#and throw in a new true crime game as well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gh0stly-pages · 3 months ago

Text

Out of Our Minds (Part Two)

Ledger! Joker x f! reader (18+)

CW: swearing, mentions of violence

Words: 5.6k

Chapter Summary: Your second session with the Joker, and as you try and make sense of his mind, you can't help but feel a pull to him

previous part: Part 1 | next part: part 3

Notes: Here's the next part! Just an fyi, this fic will def veer far from actual Dark Knight canon, but that means more surprises >:) Also, as much as this is a Harley-esque story, dont worry cuz I'm not gonna make their relationship physically abusive or anything, my Joker ain't gonna throw you out a window or anything lol. Just wanted to clarify. Anyways, hope you enjoy this one! It was fun to write. Watched a lot of Arkham games gameplay while working on this, good times lol.

You wake up with a message that your rent is rising.

You grumble, taking the piece of paper someone had slid beneath your door and crumpling it. They didn’t even have the decency to call? The rent has gone up a hefty amount, and you aren’t even sure how you’re gonna support yourself this month. You might have to fall back into taking shifts at a local diner, working nights, as much as that kills you. But you have no other option.

That, and you’ve only just started working on the Joker, so no raises quite yet.

Speaking of the Joker, you're exhausted from reading up on all his schemes, not one but two nights in a row, but you feel a bit more confident about dealing with him now. Last time, you went in pretty blind. This time, you have at least a hint of what you’re dealing with. Article after article about his crazy antics with Batman, some that you lived through, others you only caught glimpses of on the news. One thing is for sure, he is much more messed up than you thought, which, considering what you already do know about him, is saying a lot. His antics are on a scale larger than you’ve ever seen before. Everyone else seemed to wonder the same things as you, with all the articles trying to dive to explain the cause behind the crimes, some hint of who Joker really is. All of them bringing up theory after theory of who he may have been before his life of crime. You’ve compiled them all together to try and get a sense of it all.

You hope that’ll be enough for now.

Before you leave for work, you throw on the news, quickly stuffing a piece of toast in your mouth, watching as the host rambles on and on about how Batman hasn’t been spotted since the death of Harvey Dent. Since the Bat killed multiple people. The police have been looking for him for days, and yet there’s been no sign, and you don’t think there ever will be. Not soon. If he’s smart, he’ll stay hidden. Especially with the climate outside, with all the vigils for Dent, people in the streets crying out for Batman or against him. The newscaster looks almost upset over Batman being gone but you snort. If he killed multiple people, was he really as good a guy as people thought he was?

You shake your head and turn the TV off. Nope. Batman wasn’t anything special. If he wanted to save the people of Gotham, then you’d be right there waiting.

What was it that Joker had said? Nobody does things because they’re selfless. Batman wanted to be a hero and, well, he had failed.

Nobody was coming to save Gotham. Nobody was coming to save you.

————————————————-

Work is bustling as soon as you get there, with your fellow psychiatrists moving in and out of the break room, the smell of coffee wafting through the halls. Everyone tends to just ignore you, shuffling past you without even a second glance, sometimes bumping into you, causing you to nearly fall on your ass. You huff, quickly grabbing a cup of coffee and a few of your things before you go see the Joker. As you sip idly, two other psychiatrists you’ve never learned the name of come up to you, smiling at one another. “Hey,” says one of them, a girl with curly red hair. “Is it true you’re working with Joker?”

The other, a man with chestnut hair and a matching beard nods. “Yeah, we heard how Joker’s here now, and that Dale put you on the case.”

You stiffen, not liking any of this unwanted attention. Whenever people come up to you, it’s usually just to lecture you, you’re not used to people wanting to hear about your patients. You should’ve expected this, especially considering how infamous the Joker has become. But of course, people are only coming up to you for something they need, entertainment in this case, not for you. “Yeah,” you answer curtly. “I am.”

They look at one another with wide eyes. “Woah!” the curly haired girl gasps. “I saw all the other people they sent in to try and deal with him. They were all messed up in the head after.” She laughs, even though you don’t find it funny. “Is he really as wild as they say?”

“He’s mentally unwell, and I’m trying to help him,” you say. If they want some kind of crazy story, they’re not gonna get one. “Joker isn’t some kind of nut case for you to all gossip over, he’s a patient.”

The two psychiatrists’ excitement fades away as they just stand there and look at you. “Geez,” the bearded guy mutters. “Someone’s protective over him.”

Protective? Over Joker? Please. “I’m not protective. But we need to take every patient seriously, no matter how… over the top they are.”

Curly haired girl scoffs. “He’s more than just that, he fought Batman.”

“Because Batman is any better?”

“Someone’s defensive.” She snorts. “All I’m saying is that this guy is so much more than any of us have ever dealt with. The other people they sent in were some of the strongest people. Joker doesn’t just break things, he breaks people. He’s evil.” Her serious tone is immediately broken by a smile. “Who knows though. If you’ve lasted until another session, maybe he likes you.”

Like is far too kind of a word. Even then, you know they’re just teasing, and you hate it. You glare at the two of the psychiatrists. “You guys aren’t dealing with him, and until you are, then don’t try and analyze him.” Ducking your head, you rush between them, and they whisper but you don’t care as you try and find a corner to isolate yourself in. As you’re walking away, you smack straight into something, gasping as you stumble backwards.

You look up to see Mr. Dale, who sneers and dusts off his suit. “Miss l/n, good to see you again,” he says drily.

Screw my life. “Good morning, Mr. Dale,” you mumble. “I am so sorry-“

He cuts you off by shoving something into your hands. A rolled up newspaper. You open it up and see the headline. Batman Still Not Found After Five Dead At His Hand! “I assume you’ve seen all this news?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Joker, that’s who.” He snatches the newspaper back from you, tossing it into a nearby trash can. “You haven’t mentioned anything about Batman to him, have you?”

You shake your head. “No… I- I assumed he already knew-“

“Well, he doesn’t. I should’ve told you last time, but I thought Batman may have been found innocent by now. Reversed his claims. I was wrong.” Dale coughs. “Joker doesn’t know a single thing about what’s happening out in the world. And we intend to keep it that way.”

“Mr. Dale, doesn’t he have the right to know-“

“Know what? That Batman is in hiding? That Dent is dead? That’ll only motivate him further. He’ll think he won! He’ll think that it's up to him to drive Batman out of hiding!” As people turn to look at you two, Dale drops his voice. “You’re not to let him know anything past the day he was brought in, got it?”

The more you think about it, the more you realize Mr. Dale is probably right. If Joker did find out that Batman went into hiding, it might offer motivation. For what, you’re not sure. Still, there’s something that feels wrong about leaving Joker in the dark, especially when the person he was trying to stop had been a murderer all along. “Got it.”

He smiles, and it’s anything but friendly. “Good. Now, I believe your session starts soon, wouldn't want to leave the Harlequin of Hate waiting.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

——————————————-

After another round of checkpoint after checkpoint, you walk into the room with the Joker, who looks the same as the other day you saw him, still without makeup, still tucked away in a straitjacket. Even though you saw him once before, after days of searching him up, seeing the photos of him with his greasepaint on, you still get a lump in your throat as you see this other side of him. Seeing him like this feels strange, and you may as well be one of the only people to have ever seen him without his signature mask. Scars and all.

As you walk in and take your seat, he smiles, showing off his yellowing teeth. “Well, hello, doll face. I’ve been lookin’ forward to this.”

You settle into your chair, taking out your clipboard, which holds all your notes from the past two nights. Joker’s words could be sweet, but he’s basically been placed on this Earth to mess with people, so you don’t read too much into it. “Oh, really?”

“Oh yeah, doll. They, ah, never let me talk to anyone anymore. Got me locked up at all times. Ain’t that sad?” He giggles. “Don’t see anyone these days but the guards. And they just like to yell at me.”

You haven’t actually seen the way they treat the Joker. Once you’re done with a session, you’re quickly filed out and headed into the break room until your next session with another patient. But you’re sure it isn’t pretty. If they treat other, less taxing patients horrible enough, you can only imagine what they do to the Joker. “Well, rest assured, I won’t be yelling at you. Now, we have a full session today, so I really do want to get started. So,” you lean in and smile, “where should we begin? Most people would like to focus on the past, but I think maybe we should work our way back. How are you feeling right now?”

He licks his lips. “Oh, ya know, as good as a guy can be rotting away in this shithole.” He sways his head from side to side, clearly antsy, and you can tell that if he had his hands out, he’d be gesturing wildly with them. “But I’d say I’m much happier now that you’re here, doc.”

Joker was a master of many weapons. It seemed he wielded charm with the same mastery. You ignore his attempts at getting to you. “You’ve been in Arkham for a few days now. Have you been reflecting on yourself?”

Joker’s mouth smacks together. “Reflection? I’ve certainly been thinkin’, that’s for sure. Nothin’ else to do.”

You scribble that down, perking up. “Really? And what have you been thinking about?”

“All the things I’m gonna blow up when I get out of here.”

Immediately, you deflate, and Joker erupts into thunderous laughter. Of course. What the hell were you expecting? But it’s only the second day, of course he’s not exactly gonna be a changed man. “That’s all you’ve been thinking about? Is there anything in particular you’re excited to get back to?” You’re pretty sure Joker has absolutely nothing to lose, but you ask anyway. “No friends? Family? A lover?”

At the last bit, he guffaws loudly. “Why do you ask, sweetheart? Jealous?” He licks the inside of his cheeks. “Don’t worry, doll face, I’m definitely, ah, available.”

Now you wish you didn’t ask. If it were anyone else, you’d probably groan and give them a good look at your middle finger, but there’s something about the way that Joker says it that nearly makes you blush. It’s incredibly inappropriate, but you can’t deny he has a way of saying things that make you, well, react. Just another one of his deceptions, another skill he’s mastered. You know better than to give in. “I wasn’t asking for that,” you clarify harshly. “So, no family. Obviously, you don’t want to stay cooped up in here forever. There’s got to be something you want to go back out there for, and I feel like that same thing you’re eager to get back to might be the same reason you’re stuck in here. So, what is it?”

He groans. “Are you trying to get me to talk about the Bat?”

“No.” It’s not a full lie. You’re trying to get deeper into his motivation, into the way he thinks. What’s he in this all for? “But why don’t we talk about that?”

“Ah, Batsy, the Dork Knight, the savior, if you will. He’s crazy, you know.”

“Who? Batman?”

“No, Santa Claus.” He rolls his eyes. “Of course Batman! Interesting fella, he is. Thinks he’s all high and mighty for instilling order around here that he doesn’t even realize that he’s just as bad as the rest of them. He can keep trying but he’ll never amount to anything.”

You don’t disagree. It feels weird to agree with the Joker. But he makes good points. Who knew a villain would be so agreeable with? Batman did fail the city if he wanted to uphold the law, disappearing with a damn body count. If Joker only knew… “So, was your point to prove that you’re better than him?”

“Better? Oh no, doll. We’re the same. All I wanted to prove was that anyone can be broken. That all it takes is one little flick of the domino and the facade comes crumblin down!” He hollers and hoots as he scooches closer, the chair scraping across the floor until his chest is right up against the table. “We’re all messed up inside, doll, behind these masks we put up.”

All messed up. In a way, maybe. “So, all those stunts were to try and break him?”

“Those stunts were works of art,” he says, emphasizing the t. “Now, I do these things because, well, it’s funny. But it’s also about sending a message.”

“About chaos? Well, then there has to be some sort of thing that happened to you that started this obsession with chaos.”

As you begin to try and delve further into his past, you can see his barriers go up, his face more guarded. “Why don’t we just focus on the here and now, doll?” he hisses through gritted teeth. “My past is anything but a fun story. The fun part starts when the Batman and I finally start facing off.”

So he won’t let you know anything further past when he first came into Gotham’s limelight, got it. That’s fine. You need to work towards deeper topics with your other patients too. This is nothing new. At least you’re getting somewhere. “So, can we talk more about these illegal…stunts of yours?”

“Sure thing.”

“I told you before, Joker, that you’re a showman. I’d like to pull back the curtain, if you will. You caused quite a lot of damage before you were caught. Wanna tell me about that?”

He shrugs. “What’s there to tell? I assume you’ve been, ah, watchin’ the news? Did you see the hospital I blew up? I’ve shut down a few streets, scared off a few crooks.”

He has a talent for understatement. “You forced Gothamites into ships, criminals and regular civilians, and tried to get them to blow up one another,” you add, deadpanned.

At that, his excited demeanor drops a bit, and he bares his teeth like some wild animal. “Right.”

“Now, I’m no mastermind, but I know there’s a method to your madness. From what I’ve gathered, as much as you say this is all to humor you, you also get enjoyment over upturning social order and showing people what they truly are, which you believe is evil. And yet, neither boat chose to blow up the other. Why do you think that is?”

He sits there silently, but you can tell the gears in his mind are turning. He has a thinking face, subtle, but his brows furrow a bit and he presses his lips hard together. “I guess,” he finally says, after a beat, “not everyone was, ah, ready to have such a weight put on their shoulders.”

“That experience proved that people, no matter how messed up our world can be, people can be good, did it not?”

“Nah ah ah, doll. I think those people just think too fondly of themselves. It was never about not wanting to cause harm, it was about wanting to be able to sleep well at night, to be able to continue thinking of themselves as good people.” He breathes in deeply. “I know the true nature of society. I’ve seen how people will treat you when you’ve got nothing left to give them. People like to think they have morals, makes them feel secure. But those morals fly out the window one way or another. You’re just all so blind and forced into this little box that nobody wants to stand up and do somethin’!”

You sit there, trying to scribble everything down but slowly your pen just slows to a halt, as you take everything in. The worst part about his words is that he makes sense to you. Every single thing feels like the truth, and you don’t know if he’s just twisting his words to make you agree or if you really just believe it all. You’re not like him. He’s taking things to the extreme. “So that’s what you’re doing. Taking a stand against all this? That’s what the large spectacles are for?”

“Read it however you want, doll face. Just don’t think I’m in it for any gain.”

You blink. Joker’s chaos mainly stemmed from his code and amusement. But you had found it seriously hard to believe he wasn’t getting any gain out of it. It didn’t even have to be money, but was amusement and pushing a message really all there was to it? “That’s a first. Most of the other criminals are in it for money. Power. Notoriety.”

“I’m not like those fools.”

“Maybe not, but all these big, grand gestures? These stem from wanting something. And not just sending a message.”

“And what would that be?”

It’s hard, really, to comprehend how the Joker thinks because he’s truthful about the fact that he does things because he can. He is pure chaos, and as much as he plans his stunts, as much as he follows his belief strictly, he can also go completely against all this. There’s no rhyme or reason to him, so you’re grasping at straws to try and piece him together. But you think there’s more to it all, something he’s keeping locked up. “Do you think maybe you do all this because you just want to be seen? Want to be heard?” You tap your pen against your chin. “Are you lonely?”

As if it’s a fucking joke, Joker begins to snicker. He thinks everything I say is a joke. His body is almost thrashing violently, and god, he’s not settling down. “Oh, you are too funny! Lonely? Lonely? Doll. I chose this.”

Humans aren’t meant to be alone. “Your crazy antics, constantly trying to outdo yourself. This might just be a plea for something. Validation?” Love?

“Why would I keep people around when at any chance they’d get they’d just turn on me?” He smirks. “I don't have time for those shenanigans.”

The way he thinks, someone, multiple people, must have wronged him, and in your core you feel something like empathy. The world has kicked you down too. People have been cruel to you all your life. In a way, fuck it’s true, you and the Joker aren’t too different.

But that’s not something you’d like to dwell on.

“So, you don’t believe in loyalty?”

“Oh, I think people can be loyal. But you gotta buy that loyalty, loyalty never comes for free.”

You don’t agree, but that’s besides the point. “Maybe what you really need is company. A proper way to vent your feelings. By talking to someone. We’re not meant to be alone, Mr. J. Trust me, I’d know.”

He straightens a bit. “Oh, I see now, you’re a loner like me. See! Then you’d know how much people will take and take and take and then just discard you.” His voice drops to a whisper, a loud whisper. “And I have a feeling those bosses and guards out there would discard you the second they can.”

Again, you really hate how he seems to be right about everything. You wriggle in your seat a bit, shifting uncomfortably as he stares you dead on. Your coworkers don’t like you. Your landlord doesn’t like you. Your boss is already threatening to kick you to the curb if Joker doesn’t get better, and speaking of which, that helps kick your thoughts back into place. “It is kinda lonely out there, isn’t it?”

“You deserve a lot better than that, doll.”

You stop. Fuck him. He was just messing with you. He had to be messing with you. Joker didn’t feel bad for anyone. Didn’t care for anyone. The way he said those words though made it almost sound like he cared. And nobody had ever said something even close to that to you before so you soften. “Thanks,” you finally choke out. “But you don’t know me.”

“I already told you, doll, I’ll get to the bottom of you before you ever even get a glimpse into me.”

“For the last time, I’m not here to talk about myself.”

“And for the last time, I wanna know more about you,” he says, wetting his lips. “Hows about a deal? Everytime you tell me something personal about yourself, I’ll tell you something about me.”

A deal. No, this is the Joker, this is more like a game. A sick, twisted game. If it means answers, though, you’re willing to play. “Fine. What would you like to know about me?”

Joker shakes his head. “Ah ah ah, not like that, doll. We won’t be asking. Share something lighthearted about yourself, I’ll share something lighthearted about me. Share something a bit deeper?” He grins. “Then maybe I’ll be inclined to share something a bit more personal.” His eye twitches before his voice drops to a whisper. “And trust me, I’ll know if you lie to me.”

Ah, so he really wants to pick at your core. He’s baiting you, wanting to know your deepest darkest secrets because he’ll know you’ll do anything to get even just one small story out of him. He’s trying to break you. The game might be one sided, might be tipped in Joker’s favor, but it also might not be. He can lie. You can lie. Or maybe you can both tell the truth. The game is in both your hands. If Joker wants to play, you’ll play. “Fine. Deal.”

He brightens. “Ah, I knew I’d get ya!”

“In fact, why don’t we start off easy?” You think of a small detail about yourself, something that wouldn’t matter to anyone. “I’ve always been more of a cat person than a dog person.”

Joker smiles. “Mmm, seems we disagree on something.” He clucks his tongue. “Dogs have always been my favorite pet. Loyal creatures at a cost. But also deadly creatures.”

“Cats are so independent, like they don’t need anyone. But I like caring for them because of that. I like trying to help, no matter how much they hiss or push me away.”

“You’re, ah, a strange one, doll face.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” With that, you feel a weight come off your shoulders. You don’t feel quite as nervous as you did before. There’s a level of comfort now. You share something, he shares something back. And things won’t get deep unless you initiate it. You’ll have to figure out how to get there. It’s a good start. “You know, you could have a dog and a place of your own once you’re out of here.”

You expect him to groan or yell, but instead he just rests his cheek against his shoulder. “Guards say I’ll only get out if I’m a good boy. And, ah, maybe I will be good, just not in this piss pot.”

You put your pen down on the clip board and sigh. “Mr. J, I think we can really make progress with you, so long as we work on it together. You help me, and I’ll help you. And I really do wanna help.”

“Get me out of here.” There’s an edge of humor to his voice, but it doesn’t sound like a joke.

“Can’t.” Unless you can get better. Please, get better. Please. “Besides, I’ve never been very good at picking locks.”

Joker raises an eyebrow. “Was that a joke?”

“Yes. Well, and no. I really can’t pick locks.”

“I could teach ya. Maybe. I, uh, don’t really have my hands right now.”

You’re sure he can, and for a second you wonder what his hands might look like, beneath the gloves you’ve seen him wear on TV, but you quickly snap out of that. You clear your throat. “This has been a very heavy session. So why don’t we close off with something more lighthearted?” You lean in close, putting your chin on your first. “Since I’m no good at jokes, why don’t you tell me one?”

Joker perks up. “Oh! Oh! I’ve written a few jokes since getting locked up! Well, not writing them, they won’t even let me hold a crayon, but I’ve been thinking some up.”

“Alright, tell me?”

He nods his head eagerly, like a little kid agreeing to something. “Alright, uh, how about this, whaddya call a dog with no legs?”

“I don’t know. What?”

“Why’s it matter? He can’t come running to you anyways!” He can hardly even make it through the punchline before he bursts into manic laughter, his shoulders shaking. It takes a minute for the joke to settle in before you gasp and then, despite yourself, you laugh. At your laughter, Joker perks up even more. “Was that a laugh, doll face? Didn’t think ya had it in ya. Specially not for one of my jokes.”

Quickly, you regain your composure, biting the inside of your cheek to refrain from smiling. It’s not because you think he’s funny. It’s not. It’s just stupid. “You have a very dark sense of humor.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like it.”

Maybe you did. It was a little frightening. You weren’t used to having a conversation with someone that made you feel sort of… happy. Especially not with a patient. It felt wrong. It felt right. You were a little confused. “You’re horrible,” you laugh.

“Clearly, you’re just as horrible.” You watch as he runs his tongue over his lips and your stomach starts doing flips. It’s because he’s intimidating, that’s probably why. “I like it.”

You shake your head as if you can ignore him, even though you can’t. “I think it’s about time I get going.”

“Doll, won’t you come back tomorrow? I, ah, really do enjoy our chats.”

“Joker, this is only our second talk.”

“Oh, I know, I know, but I just get so lonely. Besides, I’m sure seeing me more often would, ah, really help my mental state.”

At first, you open your mouth to protest, but quickly clamp it shut. More sessions with the Joker didn’t sound… too bad. In fact, they would be good. The more sessions you got in, the more progress could be made with Joker. Then, you’d have that raise in no time. Yes, extra sessions would be good. Great, even. And it certainly wasn’t because for once you actually might be enjoying talking to someone. “Okay, I’ll see if I can adjust some meetings I have for tomorrow and try and get you in.”

“I’ll be waiting eagerly, doll face.” He smiles at you, and this time it’s not one of those scary, wolf-like smiles with bared teeth, not a sinister grin, but something… warm? Warm seems the wrong way to put it, nothing is warm about the Joker. But whatever this is, it’s close enough, and you feel heat pooling in your stomach. It’s strange. You don’t understand it. “Don’t forget about me.”

You take the remote from your bag and push on the green button, smiling back at him. “I could never.”

————————-

When you finally manage to go to the shared staff space, Mr. Dale is there eagerly waiting for you, alongside his business partner Henry Walsh. He’s a taller, thin man with curly black hair and a thin mustache. Dale waves you over, and you head over, offering a polite wave despite how he treated you earlier. “Hello again, Mr. Dale.”

“Hello, Doctor l/n,” he responds. “Tell me, how did things go with the Joker this time?”

You don’t really know how to put it all into words. “Well, I’ve only just started working on him. It’s going to take him a bit of time to open up. But I think we did well today. I’m trying to get to the root of his thinking. If I can see why he thinks the way he thinks, I can try and see what we can do to get him to push this more violent way of thinking towards something… well, less violent.” You cross your arms. “Speaking of which, I want him out of that straitjacket.”

Beside Mr. Dale, Walsh scoffs. “That psycho could lunge at anyone anytime he wants if we got him out of that thing.”

“If you want him to get better, you have to show a level of trust towards him too. You trust him, he’ll trust you.” He won’t trust them, not even at all, but you really think getting him out of that straitjacket will be good. “Please. I promise this will help.”

Walsh’s scowl would make the other psychiatrists crumble, and maybe you too, but after a session with the Joker, you, if only for a moment, feel like you can handle anything. When you don’t waver, he groans. “Fine. However he will be handcuffed. You hear me? Legs and wrists bound.” He tugs at the tie around his neck. “You’re crazy to even want this, Miss l/n.”

“Maybe you should lock me up in here too, huh?” When nobody laughs, you stiffen. “Sorry, joking. I really do believe this well help. Shove someone in a straitjacket and of course they’re going to go a little off the rocker. Treat someone like a human, they'll act like a human, no?”

The two men blink, because what do they know about treating people like humans? You’re one of the only people in this god forsaken facility who actually takes the patients seriously. You’ve got a good record of getting people out of there, and still, the two men before you see you as crazy because where they see lunatics you see people. “I’m no doctor, so I trust you,” Mr. Dale says with a small shrug. He looks over at Mr. Walsh and the two begin to laugh and gossip as if you’re not even standing there. “Crazy girl,” you hear one of them whisper, and you turn away from them, stalking out of the room.

You’re not crazy. You’re not.

———————————

Joker sighs wistfully as you walk off.

He fucking hates Arkham asylum. He spends every day locked up in a small cell, his arms restrained beneath the straitjacket, with guards constantly coming in to yell at him, or doctors trying to force pills in his mouth to fix him right up. He doesn’t remember what the sun feels like, or even how the moonlight would bathe his purple suit in a silver glow. All he knows now is flickering, ugly yellow fluorescent lights. The smell of urine and metal. The screams and cries of crazies in their cells.

It should be hilarious, really, but it just pisses him off.

But not you. He didn’t expect you. The first psychiatrists were all boring, rigid bums who were spooked off after only a few minutes of speaking to him. But not you. You stayed. You were different. You were just as miserable as the Joker, just as alone. Yet, your mind isn’t as strong as you think it is. You want something more than your dull life has in store, Joker sees this clearly.

What fun you two will have together.

——————————-

As you walk home, you think of the Joker.

You can’t help it, especially since the very apartment you’re heading to hinges on this stupid raise. Not just your apartment, but your livelihood. You stuff your hands in your pockets, and think about all the stuff he said, about how people were all messed up inside. You’d like to think he’s wrong but while trying to help Joker you can’t help but feel this pull towards him. You know that’s the whole point, he’s trying to get all buddy buddy, disarm you so you’ll forget what you’re in there for. But there’s this other pull towards him, one outside of your want (and need) to help him. Oh well, so long as you make progress with him, you can quickly forget any of it ever happened, and it makes you feel kind of selfish. For a moment, you wonder if he’d sympathize with you, but instead you know he’d laugh in your face. He’d be actively making sure he wouldn’t get better so you could learn your lesson.

That damn clown.

—————-

Edit: I’m gonna make a tag list for this so if anyone would like to be on it, lmk!!

#dark knight #dark knight joker x reader #heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #dark knight joker #L!Joker x reader #dark knight fanfic #dc joker

103 notes · View notes

solar-wing · 2 years ago

Text

⚣ BatBro with his BatBros 🦇

⚣ 🦇 A/N → Ah, my first full installment of BatBro headcanons. Where does the time go? Anyway, as we progress throughout these headcanons, you can imagine the characters slowly getting older too. By, the time we get to the end, the reader is at least 18 years old making Damian anywhere between 18-19 years old, since he's a few months older.

⚣ 🦇 Summary → Going from the life of an only child, to having 4+ siblings, can't be easy. Especially when most of those siblings brothers, and those brothers come from a family a crime-stopping vigilantes. What was your mother thinking in leaving you with your dad?

REBLOGS are very appreciated! REPLIES to, I love hearing your thoughts 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🦇

I find it funny that no one has ever thought to take advantage of the fact that Bruce Wayne has created a habit of popping up with a new kid like every couple of years. They could try to offer up their kids to him in hopes of cashing in on the Wayne family's wealth.

And he actively turns away all of them, even if he is tempted a couple of times. At least until he gets to you. Everything was normal until your mom decided one day she was done being a parent and just dropped you off at the front gate and left when you were 9 years old. This is also around the same time Damian ended up in Bruce's care, so you both were now dealing with the fact that you've suddenly got a father you never knew, as well as a brother. Well, brothers, since Bruce did somewhat actually have children before he had you guys.

She left a note along with your other belongings that said “Trust me. He yours,” with nothing else. Bruce could only stare down at you with that usual grim, but pondering look he had while you just stared back at him.

“I’d thought you be taller,” was your first sentence towards your dad. One that was vaguely familiar to the billionaire as he rolled his eyes and led you inside the manor.

Obviously, Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed everything to be true. You were indeed his son, snarky remarks and all. You and Damian must share that quality.

Speaking of, since you and Damian were blood-related, you have a more special bond with each other. Even if he bullies the shit out of you.

Hiding your toys and games all around the manor, stabbing your favorite teddy bears and various stuffed items with his knives and daggers, and I'm just going to throw in that you have a love-hate relationship with Scooby-Doo now.

You love the cartoon, but Damian took advantage of the fact that you may not do well with scary stuff and would make his own costume versions of the villains from the show and chased you around the house with them. They were horrifying and disturbing enough to even unsettle Bruce a little, so you could imagine the early childhood trauma you endured.

People think your fear of clowns stems from the Joker. No, it's from Damian.

It’s always from Damian.

Plus, since you and Damian are around the same age, you both end up in the same grade at the same school. So he always keeps a look out for you and protects you from any bullies, while you teach him how to be more sociable and friendly towards others.

Now, if Damian's closest relationship with another brother outside of you is Dick (who you along with everyone else agree that he is basically Damian's second father), I imagine you have a close relationship with both Jason and Tim for various reasons.

You and Tim connect because you both have very intellectual and detail-oriented minds. You watch Scooby-Doo, so you obviously have an interest in mysteries as well as the Red Robin personality. Whenever he is having a hard time connecting dots to a case or a puzzle, you simply come in, take one look and somehow figure it out. Sometimes, you’ll even just make a random statement that ends up being the key to what Tim is looking for.

Tim and you both have an interest in video games, you a little bit more than him. It was because of you that he even really got into them. Before, when it was just you and your mom, you didn’t have anyone to really play with, besides whatever friends you could find online. So having someone you could play with, especially in person now made you and Tim’s bond that more special.

Also, you’ve made it your responsibility to make sure the guy gets adequate rest and sleep and doesn’t drown himself in caffeine.

“Timothy Drake! It is way past your bedtime. Off the Bat-Computer and upstairs into bed young man.” You yelled, marching downstairs with an amused Alfred towing behind.

Your father and siblings all watched from the sidelines as well, all amused at the sight of your young, tiny body, yelling at a slightly older and taller teenager as if you were his father.

“Um, I’m older than you,” Tim responded while holding on to what had to be his 5th coffee of the evening.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Master Tim, with all due respect, I’d do what the young lad says. He’s already started unplugging and cutting the cords to every coffee and espresso machine in the manor.” Alfred said from behind.

Tim looked at you in horror while you stared at him the look on your face very much communicating a ‘try me if you want to’ message, and that’s when he noticed the pair of scissors in your hands.

“OKAY! I’M GOING! I’M GOING!” Tim shouted, sprinting out of his seat and up to his room. Your brothers were quietly laughing until you turned your head right to them.

“And, what are you three laughing at?! Get to bed right now.”

Now, it was their turn to question you. Cause Dick and Jason were full adults and even though Damian was only a few months older than you, well that was it. He was older than you so he bossed you around, not the other way,

“Woah, there little man. Jason and I, we’re grown. We don’t have bedtimes.” Dick said.

“Yeah, squirt.” Jason voiced right behind Dick with his arms crossed.

“Watch yourself, little brother,” Damian warned.

You raised a subtle eyebrow at them while your father and Alfred both looked at you with curiosity.

Alfred, however, had a little more amusement to his look since he already knew where this was headed.

“Dick, I will never have another brother movie night with you again, and I’ll start going to Jason for brotherly advice instead of you. Also, I’ll tell Kory you were being mean to me.” You threatened your oldest brother.

Dick was both hurt and fearful because how could you even threaten him with something that awful and quite frankly, plain rude and ridiculous. He gave way better advice than Jason! Also, he knew Kory absolutely adored you ever since Bruce brought you to the tower that one time and would not hesitate to put him on punishment as well if she even thought he was being mean to you.

Jason was holding a smug look at your threat toward Dick, that is until your eyes landed on him. “Jason, I know where you keep all of your limited edition books, especially your prized signed copy of Pride & Prejudice. We certainly don’t want that getting in the wrong hands, now do we,” You said, turning to your second oldest sibling. Jason was surprised, and slightly impressed, though also terrified. How could you know?!

You turned to your blood-related brother, who held a bit of an overconfident look as there wasn’t anything you could have over him that would have him actually following your orders. “And Damian, I’m sure you don’t want dear old Dad to know what happened at school last week, now do you?” You said, playing slightly with your fingernails while ‘innocently’ rocking back on your feet as if you weren’t blackmailing your siblings. For noble reasons, of course. They need their sleep!

Your brother was both shocked and angry at your statement. How did you even know about that? The look on his face, well, let’s just say it wasn’t friendly, not in the slightest.

But, to no one’s surprise except your dad, all your siblings silently trudged upstairs without another word.

Bruce looked at you and Alfred with a raised eyebrow as you turned back to face your brooding father, only now you could see his brooding look had a hint of questionable curiosity and amazement.

“You too, daddio. It’s bedtime, yo.” You rhymed. Apparently, not only was everyone’s sleep tracker, but you had a bit of flow with it too. Someone should get you a record deal.

You gave your dad a slight hug, your head barely reaching above his waist. You still had growing to do! You’d get there eventually.

Walking back toward the entrance, you also made sure to stop and give the butler a fist bump since he was your secret partner-in-crime. How else would you know where to hit to get your brothers to fall in line? with a slight hug to his side before heading back towards the entrance.

“Thanks, Alfred,” You said!

“Anytime, Master Y/N.”

Bruce eyed you both suspiciously before he realized what was going on as he watched your small body bounce up the stairs.

“Really? You’re in cahoots with my son, Alfred?”

“Why, Master Bruce, I’m offended. I’d say it was more of a beneficial partnership. Cahoots is for the reckless.” Alfred responded jokingly.

The age-old ending to every mystery novel plays out again, the butler did it.

Though, Bruce was still impressed by how easily your brothers listened to you without a second thought. It takes him a few tries just to get a sentence through their head, and that’s if they were actually listening to him that time.

“Wow, he got Jason to listen to him? I still can’t get Jason to greet me without looking him looking like he wants to punch my lights out.” Bruce commented.

“He has your commanding tone, sir,” Alfred said before backing up the manor himself, “I wouldn’t let Master Y/N catch you back down here, though. I heard he’s got some especially dirty leverage on you.”

Bruce suddenly decided to look at the clock, “Guess it is a little late,” He muttered before rushing upstairs himself.

Speaking of Jason, your relationship with the second adopted Wayne kid had more of a special touch. The Red Hood persona was the brother you really looked up to. You liked and respected how he branched out and followed his own path. Of course, Dick technically did the same, but considering everything Jason went through, he had to be one determined fucker to return to the very life that killed him. And, even though you don't necessarily agree with his 'strategies', you were always standing in his corner.

Though, Jason didn’t take well to you at first. In fact, because Damian left such a bad taste in his mouth after they met; when you two were introduced, he literally ran upstairs and screamed at Bruce about how he was the biggest hypocrite in the world for all those lectures he gave him and Dick about using protection. Richard silently agreed, also remembering his first meeting with Damian.

Determined to not live with a Damian 2.0, and also thinking he was saving you from a life full of trauma because, in his mind, no one deserved to be raised by someone like Bruce Wayne, Jason attempted to take you down to child protective services.

Your father was very unhappy when he got a call from CPS later that day and he could clearly hear you sobbing on the other side of the phone just as Jason walked through the front door. He was not the least bit ashamed, at least until you came home and he saw how upset you were.

He apologized and decided to give you a chance, thinking since the whole ordeal actually had you crying, you had to somewhat have a soul, unlike Damian. After some time, you got really close with each other.

Jason taught you how to fight and defend yourself. He’d read you stories at night from some of your favorite books as well as your own, and he’d always get Damian to back off if he decided to pull another one of his scare antics on you.

Your second eldest brother was your get-out-of-jail card too, whenever Bruce punished you for something. Though, sometimes, it may have just been better to take the punishment than let Jason pull you into whatever shenanigans he was planning. Considering the fact you and he managed to put an entire city without power for two nights somehow.

"How did you two manage to short-circuit the entire electrical grid in New York?" Bruce asked with you two standing side by side, looking like you just finished sleeping on top of a giant summer barbeque grill.

You both looked at each other before turning back to your stern-looking father, Damian mirroring his expression with his arms crossed and tapping his feet.

"Would you believe us if we said it started over a debate of how to eat fries with ketchup?"

Bruce slapped his forehead to his palm while Damian called you idiots. Tim got that curious look on his face, and Dick couldn't stop laughing for 15 minutes.

Now, your eldest brother, he was definitely someone you could count on no matter what. Being the oldest and having the most Bruce experience out of everyone, he always helped you deal with your Brucie problems or ‘daddy issues’ as you'd like to say.

Truth be told, every kid in this family had daddy issues.

As mentioned before, Dick was your movie-watching buddy, he helped you with your homework and always assisted with any life issues you had going on. No matter how many times you may have threatened the Nightwing persona with such, you always went to him for advice, and there was never really a moment you could think of where you regretted it.

He also helped you learn how to be more agile and light on your feet with your fighting. While your second eldest brother taught you how to use brute force and strength in situations, he gave you the acrobatic style of lessons. Where Bruce and Jason were direct and serious, Dick taught and showed you how to be more of the opposite.

And, whenever Jason wasn't around to get Damian off your back, you'd go to him since he was basically his second dad.

You and Dick together were like two chatty Cathys on drugs. One moment, you could be talking about the movie you were watching, then you’d get into a debate over onion rings vs french fries, somehow landing in politics, somehow ending up in a political debate only to end with the "Are we even real" conversation. And for whatever reason, you swore you could hear Tim itching in his seat whenever that conversation came up.

That boy goes down a lot of YouTube rabbit holes at 2 AM when he’s bored on patrol or not doing anything.

Now, one brother on their own was one thing. Two? Someone was calling the police. Three and you may have to check if your life insurance policy is still good. All four? Pray.

Since you now were officially the youngest, a title Damian was actually happy to pass on despite his warnings to Bruce, that meant you got the most of the teasing, even if it mostly came from your blood-related sibling. But his version of teasing tended to leave you with trips to your therapist so you could do without them.

However, one rule all your siblings and family stuck by, no one, and I mean NO ONE, not even in the Justice League or Titans/Young Justice teams, could mess or pick with you except them.

Everyone in the family was very protective over you. You were surprised to see even Alfred was on that list, though you learned quickly the butler was not one to be fucked with.

You distinctly remember that one time the Batcave got invaded and Batman made you hide in one of the saferooms, you saw on one of the video monitor screens Alfred whacking the shit outta them with just a rifle.

For that reason, among others, you took a mental note to be careful with how you complimented his cooking in the future.

But seriously, if anyone messed with you, and your family found out, Hell itself would be scared of what would break loose from your home.

A bully from school started picking on you and calling you names and you didn't tell your brothers about it, wanting to handle it on your own. Besides, you could defend yourself. They taught you well.

Until the fateful day you came out as gay, bi, pan, etc., and he called you names that your father wouldn't even repeat, and that man had the title of a playboy.

Well, word spread around the school and got back to Damian, who went back and told your other brothers.

By the next day, Dick had shredded every thread of that boy's confidence. Tim hacked the school files, got his address, and framed him for changing grades in the school. Jason used said address Tim got to pay a trip to the kid's place and shot bullet holes in all his clothes when no one was home. And well, let's just say Damian almost went to jail.

Of course, Bruce was pissed when he found out and had to intervene, but when Damian admitted the reason he nearly got arrested, your father upped his allowance.

Only God could imagine the terror that would unfold the day you started dating.

Oh, and they all call you babybird which you despise.

Don't even get me started on your sisters.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

548 notes · View notes

kikyoupdates · 24 days ago

Text

Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ 𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

yandere!ocs x reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?

previous | story masterlist | next

There are three possible love interests that you can pursue in the game.

Firstly, Alistair Calderwood. Prior to meeting the heroine, he is engaged to the villainess, but holds no romantic feelings for her. Needless to say, he falls deeply in love with the heroine and ends his engagement, which drives the villainess absolutely insane. In Alistair’s route, her obsessive tendencies result in her regularly harassing the heroine. Although it starts off small, similar to playground bullying, it quickly devolves into something more vicious. On one occasion, she even succeeds in poisoning the heroine, though she survives because the dose is thankfully non-lethal. And also because of plot armor. Definitely plot armor.

Anyways, long story short, the villainess spirals more and more due to her obsession with Alistair, and she is eventually punished for her crimes through execution—by none other than Carmine, the man standing before you.

That’s only the first route, though.

Carmine Mortis is the second love interest in the game. His is an admittedly clichéd story, with that whole trope of a knight falling for a noblewoman and coveting her affections, but societal norms and social status end up standing in the way of their relationship. It’s not a particularly original concept, but you’ve always had a soft spot for characters that will fight tooth and nail for their loved ones, which is why he was your favorite out of the trio.

Eventually, Carmine and the heroine overcome all the obstacles in their way and obtain their happy ending. But this ending unsurprisingly comes at the cost of the villainess’ life. She is a recurring antagonist, regardless of whether or not you choose Alistair’s route and her engagement falls through. Yet another reason why you think she’s such a poorly written character, because her motives in this route are much less established. The premise of the game is that the heroine is from a failing noble household, and her family moves to a new kingdom after being driven from their own land. The villainess kind of just decides to pick on her when she is introduced into high society, for remarkably petty reasons.

God. You seriously don’t know who’s writing these villainess-type characters, but it’s a literal tragedy how poorly done they are. How hard is it to create a convincing and humane antagonist that people can maybe even sympathize with at times? Even villains that are flat-out meant to be hated can still be well-written, provided you understand their motives and they have a compelling character arc.

But you suppose it’s a bit too late for such criticism, because from now on, this isn’t just a story, and these people are no longer simply characters.

This is your life.

And you’re sure as hell not going to throw it away.

Carmine purses his lips. “Is everything alright, my lady? You seem a bit disoriented. The shock of the situation must have really frightened you.”

You blink, realizing that you’re still holding onto his hand after he helped you to your feet. You pull away as fast as you can, and while it’s true that coming face to face with your would-be executioner is jarring, to say the least, there’s no reason for you to actually panic at this stage.

You are innocent. You have yet to commit any of the crimes the villainess did—and you don’t ever plan to. There’s no reason why Carmine would ever slice your head off with his sword. Having played the game, you know exactly how powerful he is, and how incredibly easy it would be for him to end your life, but there’s simply no situation where that would ever occur.

As far as you’re concerned, this will be the last meeting the two of you ever have.

“I’m fine,” you reassure. The longer you stare at him, the more you calm down. He’s still a knight, after all. A protector of the people. He only punishes criminals, and since you’re not a piece of shit (presumably), there’s no conflict to be had.

“Why did you try to apprehend that thief all by yourself?” Carmine frowns. Rather than looking angry, he just looks confused, which seems to be how most people react to you these days. “Even if he wasn’t concealing a weapon, did you plan on restraining him on your own? He would have overpowered you with ease.”

Well, that’s not necessarily true. You could have done… something. Probably. Maybe.

…fine, it was a stupid, spur-of-the-moment idea. But at least your heart was in the right place.

“I just wanted to help,” you shrug. “I couldn’t let that man get away with stealing. I wasn’t sure if anyone else would act in time, so I took my chances. Admittedly, the thought that he might have a weapon didn’t really cross my mind… but I’m sure he wasn’t actually going to hurt me.”

From a little distance off, the thief, who has since been tied up and bound with rope, proceeds to glare at you.

“No, I had every intention of stabbing you,” he states.

“Oh. Well, that’s… good to know. Thank you for your candor, I guess.”

You flash him an awkward thumbs-up, but he merely spits on the floor and curses you in response. Meanwhile, Carmine stares at you in abject horror, and Fiona looks like she wants to curl up in a ball and die.

Carmine shakes his head. “Try to ignore him, my lady. Deplorable scum like that isn’t worth your time. I assure you, he will be punished accordingly. Not only did he steal, but he also threatened violence. It’s a good thing I was able to apprehend him before anyone actually got hurt.”

You look back at the thief again, who is muttering under his breath, no doubt saying immensely unflattering things about you. Still, you catch him muttering something about ‘spoiled nobles’, and how ‘people like you will never understand what it’s like to go hungry’. While you certainly don’t condone his crimes, you try to remain sympathetic to the fact that there are people who are less fortunate than you, and sometimes, those people turn to drastic measures in order to survive.

“I wish I’d at least ripped a hole in your stomach before I got arrested,” the thief snarls.

Dude. You’re making it really hard to feel sorry for you right now.

Carmine narrows his eyes. “On your feet, criminal. And don’t speak to her like that. Have you no concept of respect?”

Carmine jerks the thief up by the rope binding his limbs together, and makes a big show of keeping one hand poised above the hilt of his blade. It’s a silent threat. A warning of what will happen if he doesn’t cooperate.

“I need to have this man brought in,” Carmine says, turning towards you again. He pauses to look you over. It seems like he’s still worried you might be hurt, or perhaps shaken up, and it’s true that you were shaken up—but for a different reason entirely.

After what feels like an eternity of silence, he smiles.

“There’s no doubt that what you did earlier was incredibly reckless. However… I can appreciate that you have a penchant for justice. It’s very admirable that you were willing to put yourself in harm’s way to stop a criminal.”

Oh, wow. He’s actually complimenting you? That’s awesome! This was pretty much exactly what you intended. The more favorable impressions people have of you, the better your reputation will be, and the less likely it is that you’ll find yourself on the wrong end of a pointed blade.

It’s definitely going to take a while, but already, it looks like your villainess title is starting to be stripped away.

“I just want to help, however I can,” you say, smiling sweetly and batting your eyes.

Carmine chuckles. “Yes, well, your intentions are respectable, but from now on, please be more careful and avoid placing yourself in harm’s way. Us knights are always on the lookout for criminals. We’ll be sure to keep everyone safe.”

“Will do, boss.”

Your smile turns to a wide grin, and Carmine gives you a curious look, clearly not used to your modern-day slang. You’ve been trying to adopt the mannerisms and way of speaking of people in this setting, but it’s difficult to completely overwrite old habits. Maybe you’ll get used to it with time. Or maybe other people will get used to how much you’ve changed. Whichever comes first.

What started off as a rather tense encounter has fortunately ended without any issues. If you avoid the heroine, there’s no reason your path should ever cross with Carmine’s again. It’s possible you might catch glimpses of him in town every now and then, but otherwise, you will both lead separate lives.

So far, it looks like you’ve managed to distance yourself from two of the three major love interests in the game. Not bad for less than a week in your new body. Not bad at all.

“God, I’m so epic,” you sigh.

Fiona, however, doesn’t seem to think you’re that epic. In fact, she has rather strong opinions on the matter.

“Lady [Name]!” she fumes, and you watch as she balls her hands into cute little fists and shakes them wildly. She’s clearly upset, but honestly, she’s just too adorable to take seriously.

“What is it?” you chuckle.

“How can you even ask me that? You could have gotten seriously hurt earlier! If that man’s knife had struck you, you could have died!”

She gasps for breath after exclaiming her last point, more riled up than you’ve ever seen her. What a loud scream to be coming from such a small little maid. It’s actually rather impressive.

“Yes, I was reckless,” you admit. You reach out, hesitating for a moment, then you grin and pat her on the head. “It’s a good thing you reacted so fast. I sure am glad I brought you with me. You saved my life, Fiona. You’re amazing.”

Fiona bristles. “Huh? O-Oh. Well, of course! I couldn’t possibly have let my lady get hurt! B-But what you did still wasn’t safe! There’s no telling what could have happened if that knight hadn’t been passing by!”

She puffs out her cheeks, still very much indignant, but it looks like she’s not opposed to you patting her head. It actually seems like she’s enjoying it quite a bit.

You finally let your hand drop, then smile again. “You’re right, Fiona. That was very rash of me, and I promise it won’t happen again. I overestimated my authority and thought I could get a criminal to behave. I guess I just wanted to feel like I was doing a good deed.”

Fiona’s eyes widen, and you can’t blame her, because based on everything she knows of the previous [Name], wanting to ‘do good’ must sound like some kind of sick joke.

But you can see it in her expression. Slowly but surely, her doubts and reservations are melting away. Perhaps she felt your sincerity when you patted her head, or even before, when you expressed interest in remembering her name. Whatever the case, you can tell that she’s making an effort to look past all the offenses [Name] committed against her, and is choosing to believe in the you of the present.

You’ve just gained the cutest little ally you could possibly ask for.

“I-I understand what you were trying to accomplish, but it was still terrifying!” she insists. She presses a palm to her chest and exhales shakily. “Just… please don’t ever do that again. I’m not sure if my heart will hold out.”

“Aw. I’m sorry for scaring you. Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson.”

You wink playfully, to which she just sighs and hangs her head in resignation.

Still, Fiona has a point.

At this rate, it’s much more likely that you’ll die because of your own stupidity, rather than the plot of the game.

“...holy shit, is that stall selling mini donuts?!”

“I’m telling you, honey, our daughter might actually be a genius!”

Your father beams proudly as he flips through the latest pages of homework he assigned you. Needless to say, you completed everything again, and with stellar marks too. Your mother watches on with obvious skepticism, peeking out from behind her frilly hand fan. She can’t quite seem to wrap her head around what’s happening. As far as she knows, you’ve always been, well… an idiot.

“[Name] really solved all of these questions herself?” your mother asks, still not buying into the whole thing.

“She most certainly did,” your father hums. “I even sat here and watched her do it! Isn’t that incredible? To think that we were housing such a prodigy all this time!”

You grin cheekily, to which your mother starts fanning herself faster, mumbling something inaudible under her breath. Probably to do with the fact that she thinks you might be possessed. It’s a popular theory that still hasn’t died down, by the looks of it.

Whatever. You’re fully aware of the fact that you’re behaving very differently than the previous [Name], but you need to do this. You need to make a massive change, otherwise, there’s no doubt that people will resent you for the heinous acts the villainess committed before. Besides, it’s not entirely unheard of for people to reinvent themselves. It’s not especially common, but it does happen every now and then.

Also, you think it’s really funny how your parents keep acting like you’re the second coming of Einstein. You’ve always considered yourself to be decently smart, but given how straightforward your father’s math problems are… they’re definitely giving you too much credit.

Oh, well. It’s much better to have naive, supportive parents than ones that will make your life hell.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” your mother frowns. “[Name], you always used to whine and avoid studying. You said you would rather die than have to do homework, and one time you threw a fit and threatened to jump out the window.”

“...”

I already knew the villainess was a whiny little bitch, but come on. Whatever happened to standards, sis?

“Um.” You awkwardly clear your throat. “Yes, well, I’d rather not speak of that incident. I’m embarrassed with how I behaved. It’s true that my sudden change in demeanor might seem rather shocking, but I really am trying to become a better, more accomplished person. Once I started actually applying myself, I realized it wasn’t as difficult as I initially thought. I only wish I’d done this sooner.”

Unlike your father, who is absolutely giddy with the newly-improved version of his daughter, your mother seems to be much more dubious of this whole situation. Perhaps it’s a mother’s intuition or something. Obviously, she would never be able to guess that you’re an entirely different person trapped inside a new body, but it’s clear that she still has her suspicions.

She snaps her hand fan shut, then nods. “I see. Well, this is a relief. It’s good to see you taking things seriously for a change. A strong work ethic is something to be admired.”

She pats your shoulder and smiles encouragingly, but as she’s walking away, you swear you catch her frowning at you out of the corner of her eye.

Yeah. She’s definitely not fully on board yet. You can only hope that, with time, she’ll come to accept the change.

At least your father’s having a field day.

“My darling little genius,” he praises, ruffling your hair affectionately. “[Name], I want you to know that your mother and I are both very proud of you. In fact, we’re considering finding a tutor for you to work with. Clearly, someone of your intellect needs to be challenged accordingly, and with their help, you’ll learn at a much more accelerated pace.”

A tutor, huh? Well, you’re not opposed to it. You’ve spent the past few years of your life listening to countless professors drone on during lectures, most of which didn’t teach you jack shit. The better portion of your academic career has been self-taught. A tutor should be fine, because you get to work one-on-one with them and they’ll actually listen to your questions.

“Of course, father. I’m excited to expand my knowledge and push past my limits.”

He outright squeals in delight, then pulls you into his arms and gives you the biggest bear hug of all time. He was initially furious when you broke off your engagement with Alistair, but it looks like he’s completely gotten over to it.

And to think that all it took was solving a few math problems.

“Thank you, math,” you mumble quietly, which are undoubtedly words that nobody has ever spoken before.

Your father eventually pulls away from you, still smiling. “Keep up the good work, my dear. And remember that we’ve been invited to attend a social function tonight. I wanted to remind you in case you’d forgotten. If you continue to be diligent with your studies, I’d be more than happy to let you pick out some new dresses for future events. You mentioned before that your wardrobe has been looking rather sparse as of late.”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes, because what the villainess considers to be sparse is easily a hundred times more clothes than you’ve ever had.

“Thank you for your generosity, father. I would certainly appreciate some new clothes, but I’ll shelf the issue for the time being. I’d like to make sure I’ve earned my reward. It still feels like I have a long way to go.”

Your father chuckles. “My, my. To think that you’re even exerting so much restraint! Who are you and what have you done with my daughter? Haha.”

“Haha… ha.”

Don’t play with me, old man.

He grins one last time, pure adoration in his eyes, before eventually leaving. So far, it’s pretty safe to say that your father is on your side, Fiona is loyal and is slowly coming around to the fact that you’re a better person, and your mother remains to be fully convinced. But either way, you’ve successfully broken up with Alistair and haven’t had to face any consequences, which is a win in your book.

Now, then. It’s time for the most challenging task you’ve had thus far.

Etiquette.

Having played the game, you’re somewhat conscious of how certain characters within the nobility were expected to behave, but putting it in practice is a different matter entirely.

Up until now, you’ve been able to get away with your crude, modern-day way of acting, mainly because you haven’t attended any parties or notable social gatherings. You’ve stayed within the confines of your manor, and save for when you went into town that day, you haven’t made any public appearances.

This time, however, things are different.

Your parents can mostly excuse your erratic behavior. You are their daughter, after all, and so long as no one important is there to bear witness, they don’t seem too concerned with it. But when faced with countless members of the nobility, most of which are looking for just about any opportunity to gossip and scrutinize, your carefree attitude won’t go over that well.

Your one saving grace is that people already have a bad impression of the villainess. They already expect you to make rude, shameless remarks and go around trying to stir up trouble. Obviously, you won’t be doing any of that, but you hope that whatever mistakes you might make tonight will be overlooked. The last thing you want is to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Can you believe it? [Name] actually had the gall to show up.”

“Didn’t she make one of the other ladies cry at the last party?”

“She did. I heard that poor thing couldn't handle the abuse and ran out into the garden, then she tripped and broke her ankle.”

You blink tiredly.

Looks like not standing out is a hollow dream.

“Shh! She’s coming over here,” one of the gossiping women chides. They’re all huddled up in a group, but the second they notice you passing by, they throw on practiced smiles and pretend like nothing ever happened.

“[Name]!” the same woman coos, using a very obviously fake, superficial tone of voice. She then curtsies, most likely because you outrank her. “Oh, how lovely it is to see you! I was wondering if you’d been invited. You always have a way of… spicing the evening up.”

The women standing behind her giggle obnoxiously. It’s obvious that this is intended to be a passive-aggressive display, as well as an attempt to humiliate you.

But what they don’t realize is that you’re not the same person anymore—quite literally. Therefore, no matter how they try to insult you, there’s no reason for you to take it seriously. And besides, your foremost concern is ensuring that you survive. What’s a few catty bitches compared to the threat of death?

“Hello,” you smile. “It’s nice to see all of you as well. Also, in regards to what you were whispering about earlier, I’m afraid I don’t remember. Did I make someone cry? Truly, it must have slipped my mind. Perhaps I need a reminder.”

They stiffen up, because normally in high society, these underhanded remarks are rarely acknowledged face to face. You’re expected to play the long game and retort with passive-aggressive comments of your own, not call them out on their bullshit.

You have to admit, pretending to be a villainess can be pretty fun at times.

“I-I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” the woman mutters. She then gestures towards her lackeys, glaring at you before she leaves. “I believe a close friend of mine has just arrived. You’ll have to excuse us.”

They leave without further issue, good riddance. It’s best to keep people like that at arm’s length. You do want to establish a better reputation for yourself, but if you let others walk all over you instead of holding your ground, you’ll never be taken seriously.

Anyways, for obvious reasons, it looks like most people are avoiding you. Officially, your parents are the actual guests, but as their daughter, you’re expected to accompany them. They’ve already gone off to exchange niceties with the host of the evening, which fortunately leaves you free to do what you want.

And right now, what you want is to have some of that expensive wine that everyone’s drinking.

There are a few servants roaming around carrying trays stacked with alcohol, and you gingerly pick up a glass, smiling appreciatively.

“Thank you,” you say, and the servant reacts by flinching in surprise. Being thanked by the villainess is probably just as big of a shock as being hit by a bus.

He scurries off, and surprise, surprise—no one else has come to talk to you yet. You take a sip of the wine and let out a sigh. Well, this is fine. From what you remember, the villainess doesn’t have many actual friends, for obvious reasons. There are a few noblewomen who occasionally flock around her and help her harass the heroine, but those same noblewomen also talk shit about the villainess behind her back, so it’s hardly a genuine friendship.

You decide to make like a wallflower for a bit and just observe. There’s a lot to be learned, after all. High society has all kinds of unwritten rules, and the more you know, the better you’ll fare.

Okay, so… that dude is apparently having an affair. Everyone knows it, including his wife, but they’re pretending like it doesn’t exist. And that woman over there showed up wearing the same dress as someone else, which is apparently mortifying enough to quietly cry over.

“This is all so confusing,” you mutter, taking another gulp of wine.

“What’s confusing?”

You squeal. You’re so startled that you nearly drop the glass of wine in the process, but fortunately, your amazing (self-proclaimed) reflexes kick in just in time.

Some rude bastard just snuck up on you! The absolute nerve! You’re actually about to chew him out for it, since you nearly had a damn heart attack, but you stop yourself the moment you make eye contact.

Standing before you is none other than the third and final love interest—Flynn Pearce.

Flynn leans closer, tilting his head. “What’s so confusing? You look unusually focused. I noticed you standing over here and mumbling to yourself. You seem to be drinking much more slowly than usual too.”

You press your lips together. The third love interest from the game, Flynn, is none other than the villainess’ close childhood friend. They basically grew up together. That’s how far back their friendship dates. This of course means that when he starts developing feelings for the heroine, someone that the villainess has decided she hates, she openly expresses her disapproval and makes efforts to keep the two of them apart.

Flynn is an interesting character, because he’s a bit more morally gray than the other love interests. He is obviously aware of all the villainess’ flaws, but still defends her in the initial acts of his route, because of their long-standing friendship. Unlike Alistair, who is written to be charming, poised, and compassionate, or Carmine, who despises acts of injustice and can’t stand the villainess’ wrongdoings, Flynn isn’t meant to be so clear-cut. It takes a while for him to come to terms with his feelings for the heroine and realize how permissive he’s been of the villainess’ behavior over the years. His character arc leads him to realize how guilty he is by association, and after dealing with the self-loathing that comes with this realization, he eventually casts the villainess out of his life.

This is the only ending where the villainess isn’t executed by Carmine. In an act of hateful desperation, she lunges at the heroine with a knife, fully intent on killing her.

But the villainess obviously doesn’t succeed, and instead, she finds that same knife plunged into her chest.

By none other than her dearest friend.

You could argue that Flynn is the only real friend the villainess ever had, which could have potentially made her death more tragic, if not for the fact that she was horribly written and had no redeemable qualities.

Anyways, that same friend is now standing right in front of you. Just like Carmine, if you make the wrong choices and somehow end up tangled in the plot, he too has the potential to end your life.

It’s always fun staring death in the face.

“Um, nothing really,” you say, doing your best not to openly grimace. “I was just thinking… that this wine is a weird choice. I’m not sure why they picked it. It’s a bit confusing, is all.”

Flynn frowns. “I tried the wine. Didn’t you say before that it was one of your favorites?”

“Oh. D-Did I? Well, maybe the batch is off or something. Either way, it’s not a big deal. I’ll drink it all the same.”

To prove your point, you throw your head back and chug the rest of the wine. Come to think of it, you do recall that the villainess is a bit of a heavy drinker. You suppose you should do your best to play the part.

You hoped that would put Flynn’s suspicions to rest, but instead, he narrows his eyes even further.

“Not a big deal…? If the wine really wasn’t to your taste, surely you’d have more to say about it. Normally, you would have been more vocal about your complaints. I remember you once argued with the hosts for their poor choice of hors d’oeuvres.”

You gape at him.

Oh my god. Fuck you, shitty villainess! Why do you have to be such a massive asshole all the time? It’s impossible to meet your ridiculously trashy standards!

“Ah, right,” you chuckle, hurrying to compose yourself. You wave your hand dismissively. “It’s true. To be honest, I have a lot of improvements in mind for tonight, but I’m rather tired. I just don’t have the energy to go and throw their mistakes in their face. Besides, incompetent people will never learn, I’m afraid. It’s just a waste of my time. Anyways. I’m off to go grab more wine! It may not be good, but it’s palatable, at the very least. I need something to keep me busy for the rest of this mind-numbing ordeal.”

You leave without giving him another chance to comment. Shit! You weren’t expecting to run into him so soon, and you knew from the start that he’d be the most troublesome one to deal with, since he knows the villainess so well. It won’t be as easy to cut him out of your life as it was with Alistair and Carmine. You’ll need to avoid him to the best of your ability, but you just don’t know how.

While you clumsily weave through all the people, freaking out internally, Flynn stares at you from afar, without blinking once.

He purses his lips.

“She’s… acting strange.”

More chapters are available on Quotev!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🗡️ main masterlist! ♡ character appearances

50 notes · View notes

pinkkkkat · 1 month ago

Note

Lottie comforting nat pre crash?

the best they know how to do

thank you so much for the req! i love hurt /comfort

lottienat hurt/comfort, sfw, set pre-crash right after the death of nat’s dad

soccer practice is lottie’s escape. it’s a chance for her to sweat, to be undebatably good at something, to be surrounded by by noise and chat with her friends and get away from the monotonous silence of her home life. it’s also a chance to hear the quick sarcasm and see the blur of speed that is her teammate (and good friend, these days), nat scatorccio

on a random wednesday in the early months of junior year, nat doesn’t show up to practice. it throws lottie off her game, kicks missing and head in the clouds. she can’t even pay attention when coach martinez is chewing her out, nor when coach ben is smiling sympathetically at her. nat is always at practice, she never skips, even showing up drunk if that’s the situation she’s in

it doesn’t take very long for lottie to learn why nat didn’t come to practice. it’s on the news that night, which she watches on a big television in a gray and empty home. tragedy strikes local trailer park, the news anchor says in a fake and dramatic voice, man dead after shotgun mishap, teenage daughter and loving wife left witness to the accident

and on the screen flashes an uncomfortably familiar photo, a brown haired nat smiling stiffly next to a mother with glazed over eyes and a man looking messily stoic. those are nat’s parents, lottie knows even though she’s never once seen them in the stands at a game. if that’s nat and her family, then logic says the man that’s dead must be nat’s dad. it takes a minute for lottie’s brain to catch up with the facts in front of her. teenage daughter left witness? oh my god, natalie

lottie isn’t sure what she’s meant to do, and her leg bobs up and down rapidly while her eyes dart around the room. she’s itching to do something, to help, but she isn’t sure what. lottie knows that nat’s dad wasn’t always very good to her, that her mom was a drunk, but were they close enough for lottie to… for her to what? show up at nat’s? wouldn’t it be barred off as an active crime scene now? lottie didn’t know

the phone rang, and it is with little surprise that she finds jackie taylor on the other line, with shauna chiming in from what is obviously across the room. she indulges jackie in a few “oh my gods” and “i knows,” before jackie’s proclamation that “people are saying that nat did it oh my god lot that can’t be true” causes lottie to panic so much that she simply hangs up on jackie

she paces around her living room before deciding that no, she cannot just hunt nat down. that would be insane, and she wouldn’t even know where to start. her socks pad on the tile floor while she bites at her lower lip, unable to stop worrying about nat. in the end, though, she ends up calling the florist and ordering a bouquet addressed to the trailer and scheduled for the following week, with a card that reads an “i’m so sorry,” and a “love lot,” before going to bed but not really sleeping much at all

so thursday comes as thursdays do, and the last person lottie expects to see in the locker room when she gets there, half an hour early nonetheless, is natalie. but there natalie is, sitting on the bench with her head hung, left leg bouncing rapidly where her elbow rests on it, jostling her whole body and making her shake. lottie stops dead in he tracks when she sees her

“nat?” she says quietly, not wanting to spook her off. lottie wrings her hands, trying to decide wether she should leave, take nat with her, or stay. nat doesn’t look up. doesn’t stop shaking either. lottie moves to sit next to her, not quite touching, but nat jerks up straight when she does anyways, like she’s been electrocuted

“i didn’t do it,” nat says with resolve, but lottie can tell that the girls is seconds away from crying. well, that’s that. the decision has been made for her by the wobble of nat’s lower lip and the fear in her eyes. they cannot stay here, and have nat face the onslaught of questions that is sure to be thrown at her when the other yellowjackets arrive. lottie nods at nat, and stands up only moments after she’s sat down

nat’s eyes follow lottie’s movements and land on her outstretched hand. after a moment of obvious fighting with herself, she takes lottie’s hand, and lottie pulls her up to her feet, bending to grab nat’s duffel bag and sling it over her shoulder before turning to head out of the locker room, dragging nat behind her by their clasped hands

nat is limp, following lottie blindly and without care. whatever lottie is doing, whatever the taller girl wants, is surely better than being at soccer practice or, god forbid, being at home. so when lottie opens the passenger side door to her ridiculous bmw, nat gets in and obediently buckles herself in. once lottie rounds the car and settles into the drivers seat, she reaches over and retakes nat’s hand into her own, intertwining their fingers and turning the key to start the engine

if nat was paying attention, she would notice the worried glances lottie sends in her direction very few seconds, not paying nearly enough attention to the road. she would notice lottie’s thumb rubbing soothing circles into nat’s knuckles, and maybe she would have the sense to be embarrassed. she would notice that they were obviously taking the route to lottie’s mansion, and she would maybe object. as it was, nat was not paying attention, her mind replaying the shot and the splat in a split second loop, over and over

lottie drags nat out of the car, up her front step, into her house and up wining staircase and long hallway to her bedroom. nat doesn’t really come to until she’s startled out of her haze by the feeling of lottie’s tall frame completely enveloping her own, smaller one. they’re stood in the middle of lottie’s room, and lottie is hugging her, pulling nat tight to her chest with tan arms wrapped around her shoulders

nat hugs her back without really thinking, and tears fill her eyes instantly before spilling over. she wraps her arms around lottie’s middle and burrows her face into lottie’s shoulder, tears and snot soaking the girl’s faded yellowjackets t shirt she would only be caught in at practice, which nat suddenly realizes is where they should both be. she doesn’t move for a long time

hours later finds nat asleep in lottie’s bed, and lottie worrying her lower lip between her teeth thinking about what she’s supposed to do now. she can’t let nat go back to her trailer, she won’t survive being there. she can’t send her back there, not without the guilt eating her alive. she’s shaken from her thoughts by nat mumbling in her sleep and snuggling closer, which brings a small smile to lottie’s face

at least she can give this to nat, some comfort and some warmth

eventually she falls asleep. in the morning nat blinks herself awake, confused for a moment as she takes in her surroundings. she suddenly remembers everything; her dad, the gun, a loud shot and a splatter of blood, police lights, sirens, a zombie-like walk to school, the locker room, lottie, lottie’s house, her room, her strong arms and coconut scent, her soft bed, her warm body, and then sleep

when lottie wakes up, she wraps her arms tighter around nat and mumbles “school?” to which nat shakes her head no

and so they don’t go, and instead, the warm glow of the noon sun filtering through the lace blinds finds the pair tangled up in lottie’s bed, nat in lottie’s too-big pyjamas and lottie’s tshirt marked by fresh tears every so often. sometimes, nat talks, yes about what happened but mostly about nothing, kevyn tan or her dumb english teacher or soccer practice

lottie makes laugh when she can, and strokes her hair when she can’t

it’s not a fix, but it’s something. it’s the best they know how to do

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #lottie yellowjackets #lottienat #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #lottie x natalie #lottie matthews #natalie x lottie #nat scatorccio #charlotte matthews #request #lottienat request

21 notes · View notes

britcision · 1 year ago

Text

SNACKS!

For all y’all freaking about the ghost marriage joke 😉

Also Jason is not pregnant there is no mpreg but this will absolutely not stop him from bursting into fake tears to fuck with Dick if Dick mentions his “parasite”

——————

Well You Did Get Down On One Knee part i

Jason was feeling good, really. Actually a little surprised at how good, considering.

That crunchy little ecto-ice chip had been better than a gallon of coffee, filling him with energy like he’d actually gotten a full night’s sleep.

He hadn’t actually felt this good since the night Danny slept over, which had been the night before last. Didn’t sound all that impressive, except that it had been the best he’d felt in half a decade.

Maybe the full decade. For all Robin made him magic, skipping sleep to fight crime had done a number on him in his teens. If he’d been as willing as Dickie and Tim to slack on his schoolwork, maybe…

Yeah, no, Tim was the poster child for Do Not Emulate This Sleep Schedule.

What mattered was that even after running the docks down with Black Bat for more than half the night and then getting up to get Danny, Jason felt fucking great.

A little more emotionally wrung out, sure, but he felt lighter for… having whatever that had been. Like the stress that had been compacting his chest had finally eased.

He may still want a pillow to scream into for a good six hours, but for him? Still a solid improvement. He felt like his brain was finally working again.

Which… meant he was fully processing that his fucking soul was vibrating in time with Danny’s. And every other ghost could just. Tell.

That was gonna make fight club… actually, Jason had no idea what the fuck it was gonna make fight club. By all accounts Danny being the Ghost King hadn’t made any of them less likely to throw down with him.

If anything, Danny had warned Jason that him being a “young” ghost would make the others more eager to fight. It was a kind of play, bonding and teaching the new baby their powers.

Sounded fucking terrifying by all accounts and Jason was just glad he had Danny to explain it to him, since apparently full ghosts just… knew it wasn’t serious. Even baby ghosts came into existence recognising the game.

Halfas didn’t.

Whiiiich meant that all the “playful” threats of dismemberment had sounded pretty fucking real to Danny, back when he’d been a baby ghost and had half the Zone flocking to “play” with him.

Pitty let out a rumbly little growl, like a sulking dog and Jason hid a snicker. Yeah, he’d also be kicking their asses that little bit harder for that given half a chance.

Actually, if they kept holding fight club, Pitty could take a chunk out of them itself.

That thought got him a contented little purr, which was weird enough that Jason was going to focus back in on Frostbite’s broader explanation. He hadn’t missed anything.

“In the sense that you have tied yourselves together, it may be somewhat like a marriage… however, it is a very different relationship. In a true love-union, your signatures would beat in time,” the yeti explained, gesturing once more to the screen.

Jason’s blob continued to pulse and blur a fraction of a beat behind Danny’s. Definitely not quite in time.

This was a relief. Yup. And Jason’s cheeks definitely weren’t any warmer than they’d been a minute ago, before he knew that, again, his fucking soul was echoing Danny’s.

Frostbite gave his tablet a couple more taps, and a pulsing blue line linked the images on the screen.

“In your case, young knight, your allegiance is marked in both your resonance and in your aura, which now carries a link to your King. His status is what defines your role as a knight, instead of a more casual bond.”

“No one’s king yet,” Danny protested, folding his arms and leaning into Jason’s side. Letting a little more of his weight rest on him.

Jason leaned in too, frowning from the screen to Frostbite.

———————

Tag List:

@welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle e @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel l @honeysuckletook k

#dp x dc #wip wednesday #danny fenton dead and loving it #well you did get down on one knee #i know jason didn’t yet but the joke is right there #chapter 17 part 1

209 notes · View notes

langfield · 1 month ago

Note

do you think vinh was actually in love with safi? i know he starts doubting that he ever was in chapter 5, but if he wasn’t actually in love what do you think his true feelings for her were? emotional attachment maybe? on safi’s side, i think it’s interesting how even after knowing about vinh’s statement about maya she still decides to hook up with him for a time (only to eventually stop sometime prior to the game?? maybe they had another falling out idk). their relationship in general is just very fascinating to me lmao.

god, the safi-vinh dynamic is certainly one filled with intrigue because of all the intense emotions attached to the people within it ; aimed at each other and also at the bystanders whom haunted around their not so defined relationship. there’s just so much baggage attached to them, you know? mostly painful things and a general sense of betrayal or regret, creating a potion of this general wishy washy bullshit that’s hard to parse through … more so in safi’s case than vinh’s, but i’ll touch upon that later! as for your question about vinh and his true feelings, well.

maybe he was in love with safi once upon a time. maybe the fact he believed that he was in love with her is really all that matters. i suppose it depends on what your definition of romantic love and utter devotion is. it’s undeniable he cared fiercely for safi, enough so to become jealous of max ( safi’s object of obsession ), swear off serious relationships in hope she’d want him back, and to engage in a general meddling within her life to make sure she comes out of situations as unscathed as possible. i mean, he schemes to steal a cow skull and then proceeds to throw it through her windshield in an attempt to save yasmin’s and safi’s relationship … it is very extra of him to do, in fact it’s a literal crime, and the game has both max and safi acknowledge the intensity of said action in episode four. we see the memory of the hedgehog he proudly displays on his desk, the carelessness in which safi treats it, her ‘i’ll buy you another one if it breaks’, and how vinh simpers beneath that offer because he doen’t want a new one, he wants this one, the one safi gave him : a gift that was likely unprompted, some sort of surprise maybe, given to him on a whim and cherished better than any other possession he owns. we also see how he breaks it when she dies. then there’s photos upon photos of safi on his phone and it’s implied he takes pictures after they sleep together and -- that isn’t even touching upon how he practically gives up on himself after her death. the mask drops, he starts trying to branch out and find acting gigs elsewhere, wanting to leave caledon forever, and there’s a sense of raw anger and loneliness he feels when she’s gone. he stops hooking up and pushes everyone away besides max, whom he clings to, and it’s a lot, right? there’s love there. obsession, probably. in many ways he’s still the ‘puppy’ following safi around like gwen said, only without maya this time. he waits and stews and he wants, certainly, for her to love him … but was it purely romantic love? who’s to say!

i think vinh wanted safi as his girlfriend before, maybe when things weren’t so tense, and he still believed that fiercely even when he stopped wanting it. i don’t think he knew where his feelings started to dwindle into something less excited and more resigned, or when he started looking for someone else. his priority remained with safi and with yasmin and thus there wasn’t a lot of time to dissect his heart, a rather vulnerable act he already struggles with anyway. he’s a repressive sort of man. he doesn’t do a lot of introspection because he has an act to maintain, a reputation to follow. but i do believe that by the time double exposure takes place, vinh’s love for safi has indeed shifted because his attraction to max veers on something that isn’t purely sexual. there is an undeniable interest, both in dead and living world, that he’s either embracing or squirming away from … i do not think vinh had many crushes at all when he was in love with safi. i don’t think he allowed himself that luxury, because he didn’t want to move on from her, or put himself off the market in case she wanted him again, in bed or in some profound, loving sense. lots of waiting. lots of surrendering, ‘she’ll come around, we’ll make up’, and hoping despite himself. so his romance with max proves to me that vinh is somewhat right in saying ‘or i thought i was’ when talking about safi and being in love with her, because he was before, but he isn’t exactly in love with her now, if that makes sense? i’d say an emotional attachment is a good title for what they have by the time of the games events.

( i do not wish to diminish vinh’s feelings, but i also think there’s a case to be made that he was rather desperate when he thought himself in love with safi ; there was a lot of insecurity within him back when he was a student, weighed down by the fact he was poor and not your standard run-of-the-mill white man … as an adult he scoffs at his acting abilities and wields his power as head of abraxas with a rather tight fist, as though it’s the only control he’s ever had before. it’s rather clear his only two friends were safi and maya and that vinh hasn’t had any since them -- was desperate to stay on their heels despite the fact he was never really apart of whatever they had. it’s not a stretch to speculate that vinh was, perhaps, a cocktail mix of loneliness and desperation rather than strictly in love with safi. maybe confused his all-consuming need to be around her as desire, or maybe just enjoyed feeling wanted by safi enough to mix his wires. after all, why was it safi he was in love with and not maya? vinh also uses sex as a means of coping, as seen by his rather active sex life in game via hookup apps and reggie, so maybe his sex with safi was just that. coping. in it’s own way. regardless, he did love her, or so he thinks so, and to me i think that’s enough, speculation aside )

safiya’s side of things is much more difficult than vinh’s, who is more obvious about his feelings towards her than he thinks he is. there are some brief contradictions, like how it’s stated that safi doesn’t care for vinh ( which is true ) and yet she also acknowledges that when she split apart and lost herself, all that was left of her was moses, lucas, gwen, and vinh. we know that moses and gwen matter to safi, or mattered, and that at one point safi might’ve admired lucas … so where does that leave vinh? if she doesn’t hate him like gwen or lucas now, and if she doesn’t cherish him like moses or max, why is he still apart of her? what does that mean? is it just a metaphor for their times with maya, and how safi will always be connected to that past with vinh because of her love for the caledon’s personal dead girl? was her sleeping with vinh about maya too? or did she actually care for vinh once, albeit weakly and casually, and did that fleeting moment of affection count when she vanished into everyone who’s ever thoroughly affected her life? and, as you said, it’s so fascinating that she hooks up with vinh at all post maya death … it feels strange and odd and unlike her. even in their intimate picture together after fooling around she is nothing but angry, disinterested, her underwear and bra are already back on ( if they were ever off at all? ) and while that’s on account of safi just hating photos, i also think it’s a testament to how irritable she finds vinh’s presence when stuck in it. it’s not a happy photo really, even vinh’s expression is a little red-eyed, forced, like he was likely wasted the night prior. i wouldn’t be surprised if safi was only able to be with vinh if she was … you know … literally out of her mind drunk or high or what have you.

though, that’s just speculation of course. my vague take on things is that safi went to vinh whenever she was partied out or if she was feeling particularly destructive that day ; choked with self loathing over her mom or maya and so sex with vinh was a means for her to feel even worse. some sort of self harm, some sort of outlet where she could be particularly cruel and evil without consequence, because vinh would take it and roll over -- could even be her way of controlling things too, like vinh with abraxas, because we know vinh has no issues with being led around in the bedroom, so that’s some food for thought. i don’t think she thinks about it after or remembers it much … she really doesn’t think about vinh unless it suits her or if she needs to. i always notice how, in episode four, safiya immediately knows what max is talking about when she asks if safi’s ever transformed into amanda, gwen, or lucas. she owns up immediately, confesses, and understands intimately what situation max is referring to. but when max asks about vinh and the phone, there is a brief moment where safi just stares blankly at her -- like she’s thinking about it, like she doesn’t even remember, before it finally clicks after a beat. either she wears vinh’s metaphorical skin a lot ( which, to be fair, she does pretend to be vinh a lot in game ) or she literally thinks of him so little she’ll forget everything about him in minutes. both are likely! she doesn’t even recall what type of alcohol he likes, calling it bougie japanese brandy ‘or whatever’ … and can’t be assed to remember his phone’s pin number exactly, only vague details about a magician scientist that she clearly thought was boring and lame when vinh told her said story, if her hostility and complete forgetfulness is anything to go by. for me, it’s easy to get caught up in a ‘safi did care! she had to!’ angle about vinh, although the game repeatedly shows you over and over again that she does not. she doesn’t even care that max kissed him really, if anything, she’s more jealous of vinh being with max given some of her remarks :

( i know, technically, safi’s ‘come again?’ is more nervous than jealous per se … but there is a certain air to it, especially given the ‘i can be your new boyfriend’ comment as seen above lol. if she loves max and doesn’t care for vinh, i can only imagine how she’d feel about their romance in particular! )

and, of course, there’s that part in episode four where safi can disguise herself as vinh in order to tear lucas a new one. i enjoy that part for many reasons! seeing how safi feels so much more comfortable in someone else’s skin than her own is fascinating and makes for good foreshadowing … but there is also the reveal of her opinions on vinh, unabashed and shameless, when she is finally giving him an ounce of thought :

it’s interesting! she doesn’t care for him, really, doesn’t loathe him like lucas or gwen or her own mother, but there’s a level of vitriol regardless. she thinks him fake. she thinks him a coward. she thinks he’s scared of facing consequences and that he only acts in his own self interest and she hates every bit of that. while safi can confess to doing maya wrong and hating herself for it, she never allows vinh that same courtesy. even says as much to max, claiming that only she had the humanity to regret her choice while vinh apparently didn’t. and yet … she doesn’t hate him? doesn’t feel strongly towards him? he’s still apart of her, a large part, and she can get along with him fine on crosstalk if she so pleases and she can hate his guts but, when the raw truth is revealed, she apparently feels nothing towards him at all? it is fascinating to think about is all. how she doesn’t wish him dead but doesn’t care if he’s alive either despite everything they’ve been through, even though she hates gwen and lucas and her mother more. it’s rather mean, though that’s what makes it so complex and interesting. it shows that safi only ever cares ( and oh, does she care fiercely, obsessively ) for a very slim group of people, and that when push comes to shove, everyone else can fend for themselves for all she cares. she would protect moses and max in a heartbeat, without thought, and the piece of her within them tries valiantly to keep them safe by locking them away from the world ( another thing to dissect, certainly! ), but she doesn’t really extend such empathy towards the innocents caught in her crossfire. she may be tormenting lucas and gwen specifically, but everyone else was going to be collateral damage and safi was fine with that. at least a little bit. vinh falls in that category of inevitable damage, i think, despite their closeness and despite their history, and you can tell that’s what really wounds him at the end of things. safi couldn’t even torment him, didn’t have the want or energy to do so, he was valiantly apart of her and safi didn’t even care about that. very interesting! it’s also heartbreaking in many ways to see two people who should’ve been able to lean on each other, who should’ve loved one another, be nothing but strangers at the end of things. an example of how tragedy doesn’t always bring people closer. sometimes it drives you worlds apart from the one you should be grieving with, which can be seen in other life is strange games, most notably with chloe and joyce, i think.

anyway! tldr : it’s complicated and worth exploring. there are many ways you can interpret their relationship and i highly encourage everyone to find what angle is most interesting to them! and i don’t blame you for finding their dynamic fascinating because it’s easily one of my favorites in double exposure … i don’t think of it often, but it’s always lingering in the back of my mind. regardless, i hope this word vomit is helpful! if i brought up more questions than answers, i do apologize. but thank you so much for such a fun question <3 it was an absolute blast, and tickled my brain enough to pump this out asap.

#my asks.#life is strange double exposure #vinh lang #safiya llewellyn fayyad #ohhhh these two. THESE TWO!!!! i genuinely have no clue what’s going on with them #but there’s a palpable sense of pain no matter how you swing their dynamic and i love it #lots of yearning and dismissal and an ache you know? hate. betrayal. love. obsession …#you could name the feelings between them but putting an actual label on things is what’s most difficult #which. ironically. fits their relationship in its entirety haha #many thoughts and feelings — i just hope this captures even a sliver of them anon!!!#i will also say i tentatively think safi and vinh slept together before maya’s death at LEAST one time #because that makes sense as to why safi would be more inclined to do it again. even after #i also think she stopped after max came into the picture. as vinh words it ‘she was obsessed’ with max #and never stopped talking about her … so i think she stopped with vinh entirely. she’s so far up max’s ass she stops having time for him #or something like that. lol #ANYWAY! i do think vinh loved safi and i do think four years ago safi at least cared for vinh #but she certainly doesn’t anymore. and though he’ll always love her i don’t think it’s romantic anymore either #that’s my take!!! as bland as can be!!!!#thank you sm again !!!

15 notes · View notes

swissmissficrecs · 1 year ago

Text

Johnlock fics I read in 2023

This is everything I read in the Sherlock Holmes fandom last year that made it into my bookmarks. So while I may not have read enough to make a selected "best of" list, consider these the ones that made it past all my internal selection criteria and are deserving of a spotlight. A few of these were completed prior to 2023.

A Case of You by Silvergirl (17K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) Sherlock is marrying an American, and at the rehearsal dinner, best man John makes a drunken love confession he doesn’t remember the next day. Badly hungover, John can't find anyone to tell him what the hell happened to the wedding, where the grooms are, or how he can put it right so that Sherlock can be happy. But what if he's dead wrong about what will make Sherlock happy?

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (16K, T, Johnlock) It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

A Story That Is Almost, But Not Quite, Entirely Unlike Blue Carbuncle by Iwantthatcoat (16K, M, Johnlock) It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and the Holmes Family is all set to have one of those unimaginable Christmas dinners— but the game is afoot, as Mummy’s friend is caught up in a Christmas mystery.

An Elegant Solution by ArwaMachine (19K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock finds himself unspeakably aroused by the idea of John with another man. Problem is, the only man Sherlock will permit be with John is Sherlock himself. Seems like an unsolvable problem. ... or is it?

An Ocean Away by westernredcedar (14K, T, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has been gone for twenty long years, time enough for John Watson's daughter to make it all the way to Harvard University.

Avast Ye Merry Gentlemen by StellaCartography (10K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock is not a Christmas person. John decides it's Christmas that needs changing.

Bright Blue Ink by 13_33 (13K, G, Johnlock, Warstan) When one of my patients asks me about my relationship with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, I answer this: I am his chronicler, his assistant in solving crimes, his confidant and friend. Of course, all these terms hold true, now as then, at the beginning of our shared history. But just as in a family portrait you can only see the put-on smiles and never the real faces of the people, they were only part of what made up my true relationship with Holmes. I know him, I then add; I know him well. [ACD]

Deductive Reasoning by cormorant (8K, T, Johnlock) John finds out that Sherlock has assumed for a while that their relationship was romantic, and feels like maybe he should have been notified about that.

Doting Husbands by Calais_Reno (16K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.

Full Mount by ArwaMachine (54K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock unceremoniously returns from the dead, John finds himself inexplicably angry all the time. So he does what any emotionally-constipated British man does: he joins a Mixed Martial Arts gym. As John throws himself into the sport and joins in on underground no-holds-barred brawls, situations arise that just might force John to face what is really going on underneath all the rage.

Indefinite Lines by ArwaMachine (298K, E, Johnlock) When two lines, inclined towards each other, are extended indefinitely, it is inevitable that they meet. Upon meeting, the lines become something new. Together. Perhaps it’s been like that from the beginning for Sherlock and John—their lives weaving together, inclined towards one another, moving closer and closer to something greater than themselves.

Live from the Morgue by disfictional (8K, E, Johnlock) Molly interviews Sherlock on her podcast, Live from the Morgue. John listens.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (68K, M, Johnlock) After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only consists of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock) Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …

Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock, Warstan) Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Our Ghosts And This by LipstickDaddy (12K, T, Johnlock) An epilogue in three acts.

Primavera by Berty (9K, T, Johnlock) Italy in the springtime is as romantic as it gets but is it enough to free unspoken words and feelings after years of silence?

Salut d'Amour by ecoutes (11K, G, Johnlock) Despite Holmes claiming that my narrations of our cases were tainted with sentimentality, his preferences in music, I learned, were awfully romantic. [ACD]

Spare Parts by Raina_at (63K, E, Johnlock) Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

stirringofbirds between my arms by NotusLethe (18K, E, Johnlock, Enola/Tewksbury) Over the years, John Watson gets to know his new flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, and the man's clever ward. [Enola Holmes]

Stretch by illwick (13K, E, Johnlock) Sometimes the lines get blurry. [Part 35 of a BDSM established relationship series]

The Adventure of The Reluctant Docent by mydogwatson (23K, T, Johnlock) Someone is killing the docents of London. Sherlock is on the case when he meets a very interesting docent.

The Case of the Freudian Dick Pic Slip by expoduck (11K, E, Johnlock) John accidentally sends Sherlock a dick pic he'd intended for another man.

The Mystery of the Missing Metallurgist by rudbeckia (14K, M, Johnlock) A young wife engages Holmes to find her missing husband. Lestrade thinks the man has absconded to America, but Holmes rises to the challenge of Proving Lestrade Wrong. The case turns out to be far more complex and dangerous than they first thought, and Holmes sends Watson to secure Lestrade’s help in bringing a criminal gang to justice. When Holmes gets injured, Watson realises where his heart lies and a little lighthearted banter leads to a tentative confession. [ACD]

The Silence Between the Notes by J_Baillier (44K, M, Johnlock, Viclock) Lieutenant John Watson's days in London are painted in shades of grey after losing both his military career and his family. Could an unexpected request to travel to Vienna to track down the errant son of a wealthy family break the monotony?

The Wizard of Baker Street by Calais_Reno (23K, T, Johnlock) In which Sherlock is a wizard under a curse and John spends a lot of time as a cat.

‘tis the damn season by chrysanthemumsies (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John travel to Edinburgh to catch a homophobic serial killer in time for Christmas. They figure out how to use their words, more or less.

Trapezoid by SilentAuror (27K, E, Johnlock, OMC/ OMC) Corey Graham invites John and Sherlock to visit L.A. to consult on a project… at least, officially.

Yorkshire by lurikko (8K, E, Johnlock) They're in Yorkshire, in a house in the moors, for a case, only Sherlock keeps touching John. [Omegaverse]

#rec list #best #master list

112 notes · View notes

thecontroll · 5 months ago

Text

⠀ა̸⠀𝐑ai Control Up⠀⠀ 【 TEMP:01CAP:01 】

Art by: Caroless. Write and created by: Control (me)

⠀ ✦⠀Synopsis -

It's been 4 years since the definitive defeat against the fearsome Dr. Eggman. The world seems to remain in peace after that, however, there is something big approaching while people are disappearing into the darkness.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

The end of peace.

It was a busy morning, the typical comings and goings of any big city. Our old and beloved hero finds himself in a corner cafe - a typical downtown cafe, very cozy with an inviting atmosphere.

Sonic seemed to be waiting for someone, which was true, he was waiting for Miles "Tails" Prower, his best friend. It was taking a while to get to the agreed location. The runner had refused service to the waitress twice and became even more impatient with each second.

In the background you could hear the establishment's old television, broadcasting major, prominent broadcasters, which generated public interest. It's time for the big newspapers, with the hottest news of the moment, the hedgehog listened to the new report carefully, remaining discreet to his customers.

"- We have just had another case of disappearances. This is the twentieth reported in recent days, the fourth in the last 5 hours " the reporter says. "The victim was a young civilian, resident of the Sunset City. We give the floor to the detective, -------- listening?"

"- Positive Ms.--------. The question that intrigues us most at the moment is whether there is a relationship with the other cases of disappearances registered in recent weeks. What scares us and which were in various parts of the world . All the victims appear to be young people and the kidnapper seems to have attacked in the same way: at the best time, leaving no trace."

"[---]"

The reporter speaks again, instigating that old television panic: - Will we return to a time of constant attacks after years of peace? What if it's a plan from a new villain ready to bring the world to ruin? And where are our heroes in all this? "

- We're here - the blue one thinks out loud. It wasn't just his friend's delay that made Sonic restless. He's been like this for days, all these strange cases and with Dr. Eggman out of the game it was hard to think about who was responsible for the crimes.

The door bell rings, suggesting that a new customer has just entered, however, he was not there for coffee or dessert. The hedgehog becomes excited and then says:

- Wow Tails, this is taking so long! I was starting to want to run and look for clues.

The fox had finally arrived - much to Sonic's relief. He was holding a bunch of paperwork awkwardly, giving an idea of the delay. They were going to solve this case right then and there, and now!

- Sorry Sonic. It was a lifetime to catch all the bulletins - He justifies himself - listening to the report in the background, now from another sensationalist broadcaster - and speaking of the devil.

- Yup, that's right - Sonic makes a sarcastic expression - they're charging us again.

- Well, your charges will cease. We came here for a reason - Miles throws the files on the table and sits down.

Now they could analyze the piles of files and start the "detective talk".

- The journalism was right: it's the same kidnapper. If we can identify a pattern between the victims and how they are approached - The fox begins, searching through the information on the files. Everything was written down and it really must have been a real headache to get all the information.

- There's something about the civilians ?

- Maybe, let me see. It has all the personal data of the individuals. Name, gender, species and ethnicity, residence, marital status and blood type - Prower pauses for a moment to look at a paper - Sonic, pay attention to this last one.

- They all have the same blood - something catches your attention - type "C", Tails what is that? - The blue one says surprised.

- Blood type C is a blood type very similar to A. It is very difficult to discover because of this similarity - he pauses - I only know that they produce a supposed "miracle protein" but it is just a hypothesis created by Dr. Wire - *sigh* - You know, this blood is extremely rare and exotic. There is no very in-depth research on it, just theories and hypotheses.

- So if the targets are a select group of people, that helps a lot. But the fact that people with common sense know little about it scares me. .

- I'm worried too. Someone has probably discovered something revolutionary and is going to use that knowledge for something terrible, and that someone isn't Dr. Eggman. - The fox looks outside for a minute - Not knowing your enemy is worse than getting used to the atrocities he commits.

- Whoever it is, let's put an end to this - Sonic stands up determinedly, punching his fists and encouraging his friend - after all, we are still heroes, and people are in danger right now... we have to act!

- I don't want to let these people be used either! - the scientist says determinedly, then takes his trusty Miles Electric and begins to calibrate his precious device - Let's see... there must be a record of all individuals cataloged with type C somewhere . . .

The old hero sits back down and watches his faithful companion, all determined. Suddenly a cry of "eureka" is expressed by the fox, affirming his success in the search.

- Here are all registered so far, by counting the number of cases and attaching the names of the victims with the archived data we can make an estimate of the next target - Prower says.

- The criminal has only kidnapped young people so far, which means we can eliminate the older ones - Sonic concluded.

- There are 68 people in total. That number has just dropped to 30, counting recent cases - pause - the kidnapper has a tendency to hide any trace, it's not that hard to make ordinary civilians disappear. I don't believe he/she/it would bother to go after high-class or famous people.

- So we have 27. We need to identify another pattern. How about we take a look at the regions recorded in the investigation records?

- Good idea. Let's see... - Miles looks deeper - Apparently he or she is looking for their victims from North to South, going to West.

Now they just needed to make statistics of the missing regions. That part was left to the fox, a master of quick calculations. The old hero seemed a little more relieved. Seeing all those numbers going down eased the heroes' minds.

In the background, the TV stations continued their narrative of chaos, and the two were fed up with it. It was one of the reasons they had chosen a public place - Tails' idea. They didn't want to admit it, but the newspapers were right about one thing: "we have to put an end to the new threat."

Looking for more information about the cities and countries that suffered the attacks, young Prower seems to have found the answer he was looking for. He exclaims excitedly:

- Found it! Sonic we need to go!

Miles quickly flies off with his tails, collecting all the confidential paperwork. The hedgehog understands the message and follows him, making the coffee machine's dirty towels fly. The people around look surprised, already knowing about the two's presence, passing it off as a fresh suffering - they don't even bother anymore. Despite everything, most of them feel safe seeing the duo in action. .

With the Tornado ready to fly, Miles shouts the destination point:

- TO THE SMALL TOWN OF BLUE COPPER!! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ •

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ •

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀•

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.

*hmmn* *hmmm*

A grumble can be heard ...

A white-furred cat with purple spots has just woken up from an induced sleep. She was young, her clothes said she was a freshman. Her name was Rai, a Mainecoon cat. .

The girl opens her eyes, still sleepy, and it took her a while to notice the distorted green vision. She was trapped in a laboratory tube, submerged in a type of chemical saltpeter liquid. She could hear the wires in the compartment pulling the bubbles.

Waking up scared when she realized this unusual situation. Now she was awake and with an accelerated heart. In fear of losing her breath, looking in all directions with agitation.

Realizing that she wasn't drowning, she stops. "- What is this!!! Breathable water? W-where am I?!?" Rai thinks scared.

She tries to look more calmly, trying to focus her vision on specific points, escaping the "cloudiness" of the green liquid. She uses her fingers to feel the glass by touch. Her breathing was labored, heavy, still trying to stay calm.

Waking up in a completely different place is not a pleasant experience, especially when trapped in some kind of crazy capsule. Rai can visualize the place where she was. It was a large room, with low lighting and endless metal walls. She was not alone, but she had not noticed the dozens of people in the same situation as the cat - but still unconscious.

The girl began to despair. This was not a dream! Even if she tried to wake up, it was very authentic, this was real! "- Why . . . w-why me???" The feline questioned herself in despair.

She still had so much to live for! So many things to experience, learn, and be moved by. It seemed like he was living his own idealized purgatory.

It seemed like he was living a horror movie, but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was left there with the weight of doubt. It's time to act! No matter how, no matter the consequences! His thoughts were taken over by one feeling: panic, and by luck or bad luck, Rai will use them to his advantage in this traumatic moment.

The girl takes up some space in the small reservoir. Then she hits the glass with her fists. Without any result. Her breathing starts to get more labored, her irises completely retracted, "- crap, of course it wouldn't work. Well, in the end it's my only choice" Rai concludes desperately.

Then she continued to repeat the movement, even though her hands could not handle the pressure. The young woman also kicked hard to compensate for the weak punches from above. And finally, the glass began to show its cracks.

With more blows, kicks and panic and *trick*!! The floor was full of shards, dripping and spreading over it was the green liquid from the capsule. The cat finally managed to free herself.

Trembling, the girl remains in the position in which she fell: on her knees, with her hands tightly gripping the fabric of her pants, her legs scratched by the shrapnel. She looks up, paralyzed.

Rai laughed (a genuine laugh) although it didn't represent happiness. Was it relief? Maybe with a dry mix of fear. At least he had managed to get out, all that was left was to reach the outside.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ . . .

Oh . . . the outside. Now the feline comes to her senses and thinks: "- I have no idea where I am haha". Well, one step at a time.

With some effort, she stood up. Rai, who had surpassed herself in strength a few minutes ago, was exhausted from fatigue. So the next step would be to catch her breath.

The feline slowly tries to recover. The young woman looks down, trying to ignore the pain from the scratches. After a few minutes, the girl becomes active again. She needs to be quick and careful, a difficult task for someone who is in crisis.

Rai leans on one of the capsules in the room, looking slightly to all sides of the corridor. Everything was clear, with no sign of guards, robots or any other kind of bizarreness. Seeing that the coast was clear, the girl runs out - awkwardly given the circumstances.

Look! There's a door ahead: sturdy metal, automated. It seemed to be locked with some kind of technological panel, something Rai couldn't 100% understand.

This gave the feline a certain amount of clarity. In a way, the young woman knew this structure of subjects, articles and newspapers. Obviously, it would be more common for a hero, however, the cat was a simple civilian. She was sure: she was in one of Dr. Eggman's bases. But how? Hadn't the doctor been arrested a few years ago?

Rai felt a strong chill, anything bad could happen, and these thoughts and conclusions were making a hurricane in his head.

Did this mean the scientist could have returned? Or that someone else had taken his place? Was it a distant cousin taking over his Empire? Would someone rescue she? How long had he been there? Had anyone come to see him? This was running through the poor feline's brain, which was beginning to tear up. She was so overwhelmed that she had almost forgotten how to access the door.

Rai I wasn't good with technology, although she was sure that she would have difficulties even being an enthusiast, she was not the prodigy Prower after all! If that room was an incarceration area, security should certainly be reinforced.

The panel glowed red with several codes she didn't understand. Should she try to touch it? She was afraid that an alarm would go off, but nothing compared to her panic at being trapped in this horrible sector.

The feline freezes for a moment. She doesn't know what to do. She leans against the sealed door and slides down to the cold floor, tired and terrified. The girl puts her head between her shoulders and tries to control her distress. Her thoughts consume her in this moment of silence.

"- What am I going to do? I don't want to die"

"I don't want to die"

"Don't--"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"I-I won't go"

Rai raises his head in crisis.

- I refuse to die here!

She gets up and tries to break the control panel. She was furious, in the throes of a panic attack. She would go to hell to try to access the other side.

The device was no longer useful. The girl already had several wounds on her hands. Nothing seemed to have solved it.

And in the hour of despair, behold, the light appeared:

The sound of the huge metal door opening.

Your chance! Rai runs into the endless corridors in front of her. "Just run, even if your body can't handle it" was her thought, her need to live guiding her through this chaos.

The entire base goes on alert, Rai doesn't try to think about it. The lights flash in shades of red and the noise of the sirens is deafening. She just follows her path without looking back, without knowing what's right ahead.

But was that a bit strange, achieving what she wanted so much out of nowhere? Deep down the young woman knew that she was counting on luck, however, she reconsidered having someone else involved in this.

The feline continued at high speed, her body seemed to want to stop at any moment. The corridors seemed to have no end. She went from "here to there" but didn't get anywhere, even with the warning sign in effect.

Finally, Rai seemed to have reached some relevant point. She was in a huge hexagonal room, the glass window in front of the perimeter shone with a clear glow in shades of blue, barely illuminating that dark environment, the place had several counters with devices and buttons. There was no doubt, she was in a command center. The cat also came across a living figure, one she didn't want to see.

The girl stands still as she sees the giant in front of her, watching her with glowing red eyes, shining in the low lighting of the room. With an unmistakable appearance, purposely made to seem familiar, he was like the hero loved by all, but vile, evil and cold. The person staring at Rai is Neo Metal Sonic. Expressing that angry indifference on his metallic face, he shouts at the cat:

- What are you doing here?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

📌 Author's notes: I see you've reached the end of the chapter, thank you very much for your attention. Sorry if the writing seems a bit strange (maybe) I don't understand anything about American literature (I'm Brazilian). See you in the next one.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic #fanfic #sonic fanfiction #fanfiction #au #sonic au #alternate universe #sonic fandom #sonic fanbase #idw sonic #sonic art #fan character #sonic fancharacter

20 notes · View notes

good-beanswrites · 11 months ago

Note

I remember seeing a fanart on Twitter of Mahiru and Shidou jumping Kazui after they found out his crime. Can you do a fic of them beating his ass after finding out his crime

RIP Kazui sdfasdf -- thank you for the request pal!! (I assume you mean the cheating theory and not homophobic 06 09 LMAO) Mikoto is always down to stir things up, though it took a while to picture what Mahiru would be driven to. In the name of love I think she'd become a force to be reckoned with 👏👏👏 I hope you enjoy >:3

Some occupants of Milgram are excellent at lying. They hide a great many things, and pull a great many poker faces. Other occupants are the very worst at it. They wear their heart on their sleeve, for better or worse. Kazui was one of the excellent ones. Mahiru was not.

When Muu asked if he understood any of the celebrity news they were discussing at dinner, he convinced her that he knew everyone they’d mentioned with a grin. When Mahiru told Fuuta his hair looked “perfectly stylish” after he tried cutting it himself, she got a much rougher reception as he saw right through her.

When Es declared Kazui forgiven “despite his infidelity,” he had maintained the perfect expression to hide the fact that they were a bit off. When Mahiru waved her fingers and told Kazui nothing was wrong, he could plainly see there was bitterness underneath her words.

He couldn't fathom what he'd done to upset her – they'd had pleasant conversations during meals, and played games in the common area. The pair never spoke about it, though; there was no need to make her any more angry. Kazui had nearly forgotten about it by the time Es disappeared.

Mikoto proved a slightly better liar, but Kazui caught some odd expressions from him as well. They were smoking in silence together when there was a knock at the door. He answered with his cigarette still resting between his teeth. He was surprised to find Mahiru glaring up at him.

She drew herself up, appearing taller and more intimidating than usual. There was a fire in her eyes he hadn’t experienced before. “In the name of true love –!” she cried. She squeezed her eyes shut and wound her arm back. Kazui looked at her quizzically. It wasn’t as if she was going to slap anyone.

She slapped him. Hard.

The force knocked the cigarette from his lips and sent him coughing on the smoke. Suddenly Mikoto was behind him, holding his arms in place.

“Woo! He’s all yours, Mappi!”

Seeing the sudden turn of events, Shidou leapt in to help. He tried to wrench Kazui away by his right arm, but Mikoto held fast to his left. He didn't particularly enjoy being the subject of their tug-of-rope. His legs stumbled between them, falling a bit to one knee. He was left sputtering for breath, pinned between them and facing a fierce Mahiru. He didn't know when she and Mikoto planned all this, and his mind was spinning too fast to think too hard on it.

Kazui looked frantically to her, but her rage was rapidly dulling. She slowly returned to looking exactly 154 cm short. Her mouth twisted into a wobbly frown. “W-what do I do?”

“Eh? You said you wanted to teach him a lesson! Let's go, throw some punches! A few kicks!”

She covered his face with her hands. “I've never hit anyone before!”

“But, you just did?” Mikoto adjusted his hold.

“Not like that!”

Shidou bristled. “Why is she hitting anyone?”

Reminded of her reasons, Mahiru uncovered her face. “Kazui Mukuhara – this is what you get! This is what you get for being a dirty, rotten, cheater!” She tried again, bringing her arm back. The movement seemed to pain her more than anything.

He was met with another stinging slap, despite Shidou’s protests. Kazui gasped for air, finally catching his breath now that the smoke had cleared from his lungs. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes.

“We know what you did,” Mahiru said. “Oh, we know everything.”

Mikoto made a sound of agreement from behind. “It’s pretty fucked up, comforting Shidou about loosing his wife like that, while you’re a cheater yourself.”

Kazui opened his mouth, but Mahiru interrupted.

“I don’t want to hear any excuses! Es may have forgiven you, but in the name of true love, I’m going to punish you all the same!”

Although Mikoto was stronger than Kazui had given him credit for, he didn't have the muscle to completely hold him. Kazui pulled himself from the grip, grabbing Mahiru’s wrist as she swung for him again. Shidou took a step back, as the situation fell under control.

Kazui smiled gently. “You don’t need to punish anybody. Es didn’t get the full story.” He released her.

“Oh yeah?” came her incredulous reply. She lifted her fists as if preparing for a brawl, but she had one of the worst forms he'd ever seen. She bounced on the balls of her feet, brandishing her fists. She looked like she was going to start crying.

“Mahiru, I didn’t cheat on my wife.”

“Oh thank god.” She dropped her fists.

Mikoto raised an eyebrow, either from the turn of events, or he was annoyed at how effortlessly Kazui had escaped him. “There was no other woman?”

He let out a deep laugh. “Not at all.”

“Oh, I just knew it!” Mahiru leapt forward to hug him.

“If you knew it, why did you slap me…?”

“I’m sorry! I hope it didn’t hurt! Oh, and I was going to try and hit you again… I’m so sorry!”

She pulled back from the embrace, looking to him with horror. He continued with his warm expression.

“No, no. I was just surprised. I wasn’t afraid of another hit.”

She turned to Mikoto and Shidou to express her excitement, and Kazui reached up to rub his burning cheek. His eyes flicked to Mahiru with uncertainty. He was, after all, an excellent liar.

#milgram #kazui mukuhara #mahiru shiina #mikoto kayano #huh - i have another drabble that starts pretty similarly...#LMAO thank you for the request!! this was so fun asdfsdf #its not quite an ass beating - i couldnt swing it for either of them - but Trust Me he didnt get off easy 😂#those two slaps were with the power of god and anime on her side -- its gonna leave a mark RIP #hell hath no fury like a woman defending a woman she thought was scorned !!#from that day on kazui vows to never make mahiru upset under any circumstance 👍#and you know i bet shidou and mikoto have the same thought 😂#also LOL if you have the art still id love to see it 😂#drabbles

39 notes · View notes

imecliptic · 2 years ago

Text

since i’m having an inheritance games brainrot currently, i decided to throw together taylor swift songs/lyrics that i thought fit the characters. it was actually really hard but i’d totally do it again-

Avery Kylie Grambs: …Ready For It? - “Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him. Wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted. But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom, holdin' him for ransom.”

Libby Grambs: Tied Together With A Smile(I also really considered Begin Again) - “I guess it's true that love was all you wanted, 'cause you're givin' it away like it's extra change, hoping it will end up in his pocket, but he leaves you out like a penny in the rain.”

Nash Westbrook Hawthorne: Fearless - “We're drivin' down the road, I wonder if you know I'm tryin' so hard not to get caught up now. But you're just so cool, run your hands through your hair. Absentmindedly makin' me want you.”

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne: cardigan - “You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleedin'. 'Cause I knew you, steppin' on the last train, marked me like a bloodstain, I- I knew you tried to change the ending; Peter losing Wendy.”

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne: Mine - “Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing, that's ever been mine.”

Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne: The Archer - “I've been the archer, I've been the prey. Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?”

Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne: Mastermind - “What if I told you none of it was accidental? And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me? I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork the dominoes cascaded in a line. What if I told you I'm a mastermind?”

Skye Hawthorne: the last great american dynasty - “‘There goes the last great American dynasty’ ‘Who knows if she never showed up, what could've been’ ‘There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen’ ‘She had a marvelous time ruinin' everything’.”

Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris: Better Than Revenge - “I had it all I had him right there where I wanted him. She came along, got him alone, and let's hear the applause; She took him faster than you could say ‘sabotage’.”

Toby Hawthorne: closure - “Don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled. I'm fine with my spite, and my tears, and my beers and my candles. I can feel you smoothing me over”

Pearl O’day: no body, no crime - “She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it. No, no body, no crime. I wasn't letting up until the day he… died.”

Alisa Ortega: Midnight Rain - He was sunshine, I was midnight rain. He wanted comfortable, I wanted that pain. He wanted a bride, I was making my own name.”

Maxine Liu: dorothea - “You got shiny friends since you left town, a tiny screen's the only place I see you now, and I got nothing but well wishes for ya.”

Thea Calligaris: New Romantics - “We need love, but all we want is danger. We team up, then switch sides like a record changer. The rumors are terrible and cruel; But honey, most of them are true.”

Rebecca Laughlin: tolerate it - “I greet you with a battle hero's welcome. I take your indiscretions all in good fun. I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten. You're so much older and wiser and I.”

Emily Laughlin: Wildest Dreams - “Say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe. Red lips and rosy cheeks; Say you'll see me again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams.”

#the inheritance games #the hawthorne brothers #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #avery kylie grambs #libby grambs #maxine liu #thea calligaris #rebecca laughlin #emily laughlin #nash hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne

142 notes · View notes

milk-crafting · 2 months ago

Text

Six-song soundtrack game: Rosin! Since I do a lot of Laz stuff and she needs some love too <3

Tagged by @crovvbaar

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following:

An event that describes your character's past - Carrion - Fiona Apple

Won't do no good to go no distance The space between us is as boundless as the dark Won't do no good to throw no fist, babe You can't intimidate me back into your arms Because honey, I've gone away

2. How your character sees themselves - Way Out There - Lord Huron

I'm a long way from the land that I left I've been running through life and cruising toward death If you think that I'm scared you've got me wrong If you don't know my name, you'll know it now I belong bodily to the earth I'm just wearing old bones from those that came first There are many more flames when mine is gone They will build me no shrines and sing me no songs

3. How others view them - Burn Your Village - Kiki Rockwell

I could burn your motherfuckin' village to the ground I do not roll over like a motherfuckin' hound I could crack your skull between these motherfuckin' thighs I could doom your lineage with one look from these eyes I could name the date in which they'll put you in the ground You're the one who said it's justice watchin' witches drown

4. Their Closest Relationship (platonic or romantic) [idk about this yet xD but she is her own best friend and source of comfort right now, and I think this kind of illustrates that] - Ribs - The Crane Wives

The dark doesn't frighten me I chose to close my eyes It is mine, it is mine The night doesn't frighten me I chose to let it thrive It is mine, it is mine Time has changed the metaphor Now, dust is not the origin of bone Little girl, don't let them sell you any armor All your ribs are still your own

5. A Major Fight Scene - Lotta True Crime - Penelope Scott

Well she'll fucking kill you She wins every fight She's gonna rock your shit by the end of the night And the only advantage that a killer has Is they think they have the right

6. End credits song - Ptolemaea - Ethel Cain

I am no good nor evil, simply I am And I have come to take what is mine I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood I am here now, as you run from me still Run then, child You can't hide from me forever

Tagging: @deathandthesoul @crownedinmarigolds @porcelainseashore @diableriedoll @fantastic-mr-corvid @amatres

#tag game!#ty for the tag~#almost put brutus by buttress on here because it's sooo <333 #but I could decide where it would work #rosin posting #vtm #vampire the masquerade #lamia #hecata

7 notes · View notes

sarnai4 · 10 months ago

Text

Teamwork

This is going to sound a little odd given how some of my previous posts mentioned Viggo being very dismissive of Dagur...BUT I'm going to throw this idea out there. Imagine Viggo and Dagur as actual business partners/crime buddies. (Spoilers ahead)

Now, just hear me out. They are extremely different, yes, but I think their strengths balance the other's weaknesses. Let's consider Viggo. His biggest flaw is what I like to somewhat affectionately call his Viggo ego. The man is cocky to a new level. He couldn't even imagine someone betraying him, not him because he's the genius Viggo Grimborn. He can tell Dagur to follow orders and that he's dumb and he'll do nothing. Oops, okay, he did something. Viggo can ridicule his brother time and time again and Ryker will obviously do nothing to him because who can, right? Well, Ryker apparently can turn on him. Hmm, weird. Okay, for real this time, no one else can try to touch him. Dang it, Krogan and Johann! Just had to try to kill the guy. Don't you know that no one can go against Viggo? He's amazing. Well, that's the thing, he is, but he's so aware of that fact that he sets himself up for failure by not even considering real dangers as threats. It's really Viggo's only weak area. Besides that, he's incredibly strategic, level-headed, cool, charismatic, etc. He just needs to balance out that arrogance of his. I think Dagur could help him with this.

Despite Dagur definitely being a cocky guy too, he's nowhere near Viggo's level. To put it in perspective, the guy didn't even fight back after getting choked out because he didn't want to mess up his plan. He never said anything when the Grimborns mocked him and he also let Alvin think he was in charge back in DoB. This is the type of influence Viggo needs in his life. If he's willing to listen, Dagur could help open his eyes to the people around him and how they aren't all on his side. Honestly, once Viggo doesn't have to worry about his "allies" trying to kill or betray him, he's pretty much good. That removes about 70% of his problems. Even just in the two interacting, Dagur could probably help Viggo gain some humility and learn to not underestimate people. It would be difficult for the crime boss to accept that someone like Dagur is actually smart, so it would be an important first step for him to take. Afterwards, he could probably start opening his mind more to different forms of intelligence and not just assuming, "I'm better than you and you'll never stand a chance against me," when meeting someone.

Considering Dagur, I think his biggest weakness is his temper. No, not his mind. That's not fair and honestly not true. Him being deranged has led to him being unpredictable, a valuable trait when going up against people. He's also still very capable, so it's never held him back. His temper on the other hand. Woo. Yeah, that causes some issues. He gets angry over tiny things and just cannot function anymore. Dagur, if you stayed calm, you probably would've expected the tail to the face when Heather and the Riders left. Probably would've also not retreated in fury when the A Team showed up. This is how he had his first real loss against Hiccup back when they were kids because he was so angry at the provocation that he didn't pay attention and took him on with the Skrill, electrocuting himself. He had the advantage before that because of the numbers, but he reacted too hastily. Just have to get that temper under control.

Viggo is so calm and reasonable that I could see him helping with this. Even in times when he's lost, he can respect a game well played. There are times when he's lost his temper, but it's very rare and he generally keeps a cool head. Now, he'd need to not be condescending towards Dagur since that would make it worse, but I think he could be beneficial. Viggo getting through to Dagur, finding out why he actually gets so furious about things and helping him calm down/think things through when he's in one of those states would really help him out.

So, this friendship would definitely take time to work. It also might take some situations where they're forced to rely on each other first, but I think there's potential. Unfortunately, this would ultimately be to the detriment of the world because a Viggo who doesn't underestimate his foes and a Dagur who doesn't let his anger get the better of him are a deadly duo.

#HTTYD #RTTE #Dagur the Deranged #Viggo Grimborn #Theories #Friendship maybe?#Unstoppable force #Don't try to run and hide since it won't work

31 notes · View notes

oatmilkriver · 5 months ago

Note

hi hi <3 i’d like to ask for a cinnamon roll please with either stranger things boys or bridgerton boys (whichever you would prefer tbh i love both sm lol)

im a female (she/her), heterosexual, 5’2 with pale skin, brown eyes and black hair + red streaks. my mbti is infp and zodiac is pisces. i love horror/slasher movies and crime mysteries, reading, listening to music (lana del rey, artemas, sabrina carpenter & chase atlantic) as well as playing video games and learning new things !!

im nice but come off as sarcastic and sassy at first. i hate people who are mean for no reason and always stand up for others. i take some time getting used to people but once i do i will never shut up around them lmao

ok i’ll stop here but thank you sm in advance !! also also i really love your profile it’s so pretty and the vibes are so cute <33

- xoxo, yeon

i ship you with- eddie munson

he's in love with you the moment he lays his eyes on you.

he immediately walks up to you in front of everyone and starts talking and throwing in cheesy pick up lines. you're not sure at first but he's so persistent and charming you fall for him too.

watching horror movies together is his favorite date. but gets weirded out with anything true crime. definitely prefers slashers over mysteries.

makes fun of you for your music taste but it slowly grows on him too. one day you find him working on a campaign and he doesn't realize you're there watching him and he's mumbling 'motherfucker' like in ppp. it becomes a vocal stim and he does it often now.

he loves you so much he thinks he can't love you more. until you stand up for him in front of everyone. maybe jason carver just calls him a freak in the cafeteria and eddie goes to say something back but you beat him to it.

looks at you with wide eyes before pulling you in and kissing your head mumbling a 'my girl' into your hair.

LOVES YOUR HEIGHT DIFFERENCE

#oatmilk's grand opening ☕️#cafe event #oatmilk's 🥮#eddie munson x reader

10 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 11 months ago

Text

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Summary: Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Shadowheart, and Tav enjoy a well deserved night off with plenty of drink.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 1,760

She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety, should the need arise. - Shadowheart

-----

“So it’s true what they say about Selunites and liquor.”

“What’s that?”

Wyll blinked, seeming to have lost the thread between his comment and Tav’s question. Beside him Karlach snickered loudly into her mug.

“I don’t know,” he finally slurred, morose. “Should I?”

“You brought it up, bud.”

“I did?” Wyll reached one hand up into his hair, gripping, only to be met with a horn instead. Tav saw the exact moment his sloshed mind registered the new-ish appendage without recalling why he had it. They flicked an emergency look at Karlach. She slung an arm around Wyll’s shoulders.

“They say,” she whispered, knocking her head companionably against his, “that they’re lightweights. Eh? Eh?”

Wyll’s mouth made a perfect ‘o,’ then split as he dissolved into giggles. Astarion let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Honestly. Now we know why the Duke never let his offspring drink at social events, don’t we? And Karlach, did you just make that up?”

She toasted Astarion from across the table.

“That’s...” he seemed to chew on his words for a moment. “Not half bad. Lay down your ax and you could have a career in comedy, darling.”

“Ha! You’re the hilarious one.”

Wyll’s laugh was infectious and Astarion was saying something fascinating about the stand-up of two hundred years past, but Tav ignored both as they spotted a familiar figure in their periphery. They subtly raised a hand towards the Elfsong’s bartender and got an equally subtle nod in return. More drinks would appear on their table in due haste—without the requisite coin. Word of their reported heroism had spread across the city, their names exalted even by those who normally distrusted the Baldur’s Mouth, and Tav’s little party had found themselves on the receiving end of numerous offers lately. They’d rejected most out of hand—too easy a method of subterfuge—but free drinks for the night? After the hell that was the foundry? They needed this.

Besides, they were unlikely to find another safe place to indulge anytime soon... and that was assuming they’d all make it out of this war with the Absolute intact. Tav shook the bleak thought away, nodding in thanks as another mug appeared at their elbow. Gale had joined them for the first hour before taking his leave, saying that anything more than a glass of wine was a bit beyond him these days and really, it would be a crime to leave Josen’s The Illustrated Guide to Magically Infused Flora unfinished for the night. Blurg had proven to be quite the recommender of books. Jahira had volunteered as an all-night look out—someone needed to let the kids have their fun—and Lae’zel, to everyone’s surprise, had decided to spend the evening with Halsin. Last Tav had seen he was teaching her the basics of wood carving, a hobby they never would have attributed to the githyanki, though the appeal made a bit more sense once they heard her aspirations to carve the greatest dragon their pathetic world had ever seen.

In short, this was the most peace they’d seen in months and Tav had every intention of hoarding it.

“What do you think?” Astarion said. He was speaking to Karlach but facing Wyll, one hand making a coin disappear and reappear with a finesse that left the drunk warlock enthralled. “What would it take to get Withers to join our little party?”

Karlach hooted, slamming one hand down hard on the table. “Oh, I’d pay to see it! The other patrons’ faces as well. How many undead resurrection peddlers do you think this inn has seen?”

“About as many good cleanings.” Astarion sneered at the grime on their table. He made the coin disappear a final time, leaned over, and wiped his hand on the front of Wyll’s shirt. Wyll just smiled.

“That feels nice," he murmured.

“I’m sure it does, you beautiful man.”

Tav choked on their drink, firmly telling their own muddled mind to remember this image in the morning: Astarion dragging one hand sensually down Wyll’s chest while Wyll beamed the smile of the wasted, perpetually listing to one side so that Karlach was holding him up.

“Does Withers even drink?” they asked, then winced. That image wasn’t nearly as cute. “I offered him food a couple of times and he always gave me this look. You know,” Tav tried to replicate the stoic, yet somehow condescending expression that the skeleton loved to employ. “He doesn’t need to eat, obviously, but does he want to? I think he should. It’s only right, you know? Everyone in the party eats. Withers is a part of the party, so—” They swung the mug to emphasize the importance of this, splashing the table in the process. “Oops.”

“Frankly, I couldn’t care less what that bag of bones does or does not consume, but do you know who is in need of a hearty meal?”

It took Tav a long time—too long—to realize what Astarion’s batting eyes and winning smile were asking for.

“Ohhhh,” they said. “Uh, it’s gonna be strong. I think.”

“Excellent.”

So Tav expertly drained the mug in their hand, palmed a blade, and drew it decisively across the back of their arm, refilling the mug with blood. They gratefully took the rag Karlach handed them as Astarion drank deeply around a sigh.

“Pace yourself,” Tav reminded him.

“Chug it!” Karlach countered.

It didn’t take a seer to figure out who Astarion was going to listen to.

The lull gave Tav a moment to take stock of their own state and they winced at the haziness that had permeated the inn. Karlach had the constitution of an owlbear and it would take at least a few minutes before Tav’s blood had any effect on Astarion, but Wyll now had his forehead pressed to the table, muttering something incomprehensible against the wood. While Shadowheart...

Oh dear.

Tav wasn’t sure when ‘So drunk she couldn’t remember Shar’s name’ had become ‘Full on passed out with a string of drool inching down her chin,’ but Shadowheart had definitely passed into the latter territory. Hesitantly, Tav reached out to give her a poke. Their finger missed her shoulder by an inch. Blinking, shaking their head, they gave it another go and landed somewhere in the vicinity of her collarbone. Shadowheart didn’t move, but the string of drool dropped down to mar her shirt.

“We killed Shadowheart,” Tav whispered.

Astarion leaned into their side, a heavy weight. “Eh?”

“We killed Shadowheart.”

Karlach was across the table in a heartbeat, shoving poor Wyll aside to get an ear near Shadowheart’s chest. A moment later she spluttered out a relieved laugh as her head gently rose and fell with Shadowheart’s breathing.

“Fucking hells, soldier, way to give me a scare! She’s fine, she’s fine. Well, probably not going to be feeling so great come tomorrow, but provided we don’t let her drown in her own vomit she’ll be kicking ass again soon enough.”

“That’s optimistic,” Astarion said, eyeing the puddle of drool Shadowheart was now leaving on the table. “Also: ew. Also, if you—” he pointed a stern finger at Tav, “—ever scare me like that again I will give your favorite shirt to Tara for shredding purposes. My heart just skipped a beat and it hasn't moved in a century! I—wait.” His eyes narrowed. “Gods. Does drinking normally make me admit that all aloud? I can’t remember. Did it used to make me this talkative? Oh fuck, I need more, lest I remember this come morning...”

Tav was shooing their clingy vampire back while Karlach laughed. Shaking her head she stood, tested her own balance against the table, and with a satisfied “Whoop!” bent to pick up Wyll with a single arm. He went willingly—if limply— enough. Tav caught a soft murmur somewhere around Karlach’s waist and then what might have been a sad echo of her ‘Whoop.’ A weak hand lifted to cheer, then fell, scraping the inn floor.

“Alright, you too,” Karlach said and snagged Shadowheart by the back of her shirt—like a mother cat collecting her kitten. Their healer went over her shoulder with all the grace of a potato sack but Tav nodded, feeling very happy with the image.

“Do I need to grow another arm?” Karlach asked, eyeing the two of them skeptically. “Or I can come back down...?”

“We’re perfect, darling, absolutely perfect. Don’t give it a second thought. Though you would look stunning with multiple arms, I'm sure.” Astarion slung his around Tav’s shoulders in a move that let him pull their neck awfully close. Tav planted a sticky hand over his face and ignored the squawk.

“We’re good,” Tav confirmed, then blinked when what came out was a garbled string of consonants and vowels. They glared down at the mug in their hand. When had it turned their lips numb? Stupid mug.

Karlach sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be back in ten. Starting to wonder if those squid bastards specifically went after lightweights...”

She disappeared up the steps to their room, inspiring curious looks and more then one whistle in her wake. Tav felt a giddy emotion bubbling up at the image—which was immediately interrupted by Astarion remembering that he probably shouldn’t drink directly from their neck in a public place, so he poked them—sharply—with the knife instead. Poke poke.

Poke poke poke poke pokepokepokepokepokepoke—

With a growl Tav finally re-filled Astarion's glass, then smacked their lips until they decided to work again.

“We are going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow,” they sighed.

It was worth it though, right? Tav forced their meandering mind to focus on the consequences: Gale’s disapproving looks, the mood Shadowheart would not doubt be in the next morning, the fact that there was always the risk that they’d come under attack during the next few hours and Gods, would Tav be useless if it came to a fight. Really, they should do the responsible thing and throw themselves into the nearby fountain, try to sober up abit—

"Yes we are!" Astarion cheered, blood splashing across his shirt, and he smiled. Not a smirk, not a flirty grin, just... a smile. Genuine and bared with the assurance of safety, not false confidence. Tav stared at it for a moment, stunned, before their own smile emerged in response.

One more round. Karlach had said ten minutes, which really meant five—three, probably, considering she was worried about them.

So they'd have to chug it.

Challenge accepted.

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #Astarion #Karlach #Tav #Wyll #Shadowheart #BG3 fic

25 notes · View notes