#anyway did you know about this sad little pathetic man? now you do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

livelaughlovesubs · 2 months ago

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Dom!reader x sub!scarletella

Warning: fictional stuff - stimulation through a separate object (?), inspired by some fanarts (artists are amazing), teasing, degrading pet names

I’m seeing so many fanarts that have this implanted and I HAVE to do something about my horniness that’s holding me back from working so, as far as I understand, for mr. Scarlettela his real body is his umbrella or it’s at least connected to him - anyway, can’t believe I’m writing about homicipher bruh, I feel ashamed T^T

!!Spoiler warning!! This is not canon but has some elements from it

He is a good boy, he really is! Well, maybe not at all times, but he’s trying his best for you. And haven’t you seen just how much he loves and trusts you? He’s basically devoted to you! Like a faithful follower~ Handing the red umbrella he always carries over to you so easily, when he normally would never let anyone touch it, let alone give or lend it. It’s just proof of how much he likes you!

So why were you so mean and destroyed it? You like him, didn’t you know that his umbrella is connected to him? Why were you hurting him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t even know what to do. Because in the end, he still liked you.

Now this over 8 feet tall creature was kneeling in front of you, head lowered in confusion as he stared at the concrete floor. You were still holding the now broken umbrella, scoffing as you stared down at his rather pathetic form. It wasn’t entirely broken, just some bend metal and rough ends, or a little tear here and there. Yet for some reason his clothes were torn and disheveled, hands shaking slightly as he kept mumbling the words ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I like you’ over and over again. At first he seemed intimidating, but now you didn’t have an ounce of fear left.

There must have been a connection between him and this umbrella. Instead of speculating, best just ask him.

Slowly you pointed the long object in your hand at him, the tip pushed below his chin as you made him look up at you. His round, almost completely dark eyes stared right at you, one side was covered by his crimson hair. There were tears steaming down his cheeks, he was crying, how unexpected. The two of you locked eyes for a few seconds, and you wondered what you should do about this crazed man.

While their language was hard to grasp at first, you were getting the hang of it by now. “This umbrella, is you?” The meaning of the question itself was unbelievable, but since this ghost realm exists, maybe your hypothesis wasn’t that out of place. “Yes. Me body.” Look at that, you were right. That explains why he suddenly got so sad. You groaned internally and pulled your arm back, using the umbrella as a cane instead.

As you were still thinking over your next step, his hands reached out to you hesitantly, and softly tugged at the ends of your coat. After stretching the fabric out a little, he leaned his forehead against it, mumbling almost inaudibly, “please don’t go, I like you.” You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth subconsciously moving upwards as you snickered, “What?” His grip got a little tighter and his hand trembled from tensing his muscles so much, then he said a little louder, “I like you, don’t you like me?”

God you wanted to laugh, this was so sad it was laughable. How in the world did he come to that conclusion? In that moment, you had a lot to say t0 him, but due to the language barrier you couldn’t convey it really well. So you just talked to yourself, needing some time to vent.

“Oh you poor thing.” You chuckled in your own language, the one he didn’t understand. “What am I supposed to do with a perv like you?” He looked up at you again, wanting to ask what you said if not for your shoes that were pressing against his chest. “..what?” The person- or monster asked, but he didn’t resist your touch and leaned back, following your guidance. From earlier up to this point, he has been kneeling, just this time he was also using his arms behind his back to stabilise himself.

Without changing the almost arrogant look in your eyes, you used the gift he gave you to trace some imaginary lines on his body. The tip glided from his jawline to the tip of his chin, and you asked, “your name?” The heavy tension was something he also caught on, and he hesitated, not knowing to what this would lead. He shook his head, forcing out a “don’t know…”

You hummed slowly, showing you understood the message. Nonetheless, you continued to move the tip down his neckline all the way to his toned collarbones, “I’ll give you a name.” His eyes widened even more, it made him look objectively creepier, but you thought he looked like a dumb puppy. All big eyed, bearing a deep need and raw desire in his pupils. “How about,” then, just like drawing with a stick in the mud, you traced the word, “Scarlet,” over his chest, simultaneously voicing out the word.

He shuddered as the hard surface scribbles around his torso, squeezing his lips together while he tried to stay still for you. You weren’t being exactly gentle there. When you stopped to glance at him, he quickly nodded. That wasn’t the end to your little play yet, and you slid the pointy end across his abs and stomach, down to his thighs, making him spread them a little wider, “I gave you a name, so you’ll be my servant from now on. Understood?” This has been said in your language, but you hoped he’ll get the overall meaning.

Again he nodded. In his head, being your servant meant you liked him, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t keep him around! So how could he ever say no.

“Use your mouth.” You ordered, digging the tip into his flesh a little, and he answered shortly after, “I understand, me happy.” Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his previous crying ceased. Instead a faint taint of pink covered his cheeks, and he stared at you almost manically. “Good.” You said, which was basically a praise— right? —and he smiled, a shaky, breathless one.

A little behind you was a chair, and you dragged it closer to the still kneeling man below you. Even you were starting to get tired of standing, so you sat down in a comfortable position. “What now.” You said to yourself, not really paying him any attention anymore. It would be nice if you had a collar, would red or black look better on him? But your resources were limited, and you didn’t exactly have a lot of things with you as well. That’s when you absentmindedly thought over what you did own.

Besides that crowbar you’ve found down here, you really didn’t have a lot. Well, you also had a broken umbrella now— hold up, that’s right, you own him now. A rather sadistic thought came to mind, and you pondered to what limit you could control him with this red, unusual umbrella. Would he feel your presence when you just hold it? You got lost in your thoughts again, fumbling with the torn textile and the handle. This didn’t stop until a strange sound caught your attention.

Your eyes left the red batch of fabric in your hands, and instead wandered to the other red thing in the room. He crawled into a ball, arms folded in front of his body while his head pressed against the ground. It looked like he was in pain again, though you weren’t sure if these noises were whimpers of pain or pleasure. “You okay?” You eventually asked, and he whispered in a higher pitch, “me okay..!”

Once again your gaze returned to the umbrella. He must be in this state due to something you did, and so you tightened your grip around the handle while mindlessly drawing a line with your index finger on the panel. As expected, his shoulder jerked upwards even more, and he rolled more together, as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. His entire body was twitching, also for some reason his coat was only hanging off his arms now.

“You are into it.” You commented, not even too shocked to learn this rather unnecessary fact. At least you can have your fill of fun with this. “What about this?” Suddenly you started moving your hand up and down the handle, rubbing the umbrella panel with the other hand. It was a truly humbling experience to do something implied sexual to a literal object, but your eyes were glued to the ghost before you, so you didn’t even notice how weird it must have looked.

And sure enough, there was a change in his behaviour, he got louder. Your smile widened involuntarily, and your pace also got quicker and rougher. Oh fucking hell, if he was really feeling that kind of sensations, you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was like you were hypnotised, concentrated on nothing but his expressions. On the different ways his face twisted into one of ecstasy.

A big, dark, lunatic grin, paired with fanatic eyes that were ripped wide open. Some hints of a scarlet blush covering his face while sweat rolled down his face. Those perverse sounds he made were proof of the probably internal pleasure he felt, and he quivered all over, still bend down on the floor. Now that you’ve got a better grasp of what was happening, you realized he was crawled together to hide something.

“Ngh, hgGnn- ah..! Please…♥︎～” he whined at your feet, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and landing on the floor. You’ve been fumbling with the handle for some time, so you’ve gotten bored again and was curious about if the textile was a part of his being as well. Without a second thought, you simply stuck two fingers between the folds, and you were met with a heavily muffled moan.

“Arghhh-…MmmHFfffF～ ♡♡♥︎” Once he felt your touch, he bit into his own palm to quiet himself down. At some point he started crying again, glistening tears decorating his already ruined face. You didn’t think his reaction would be this good, this lewd, whatever you did, he must have liked it a lot. Which is why, despite the absurdity of your actions, you moved your fingers in and out of the holes or just randomly caressed whatever part you felt like touching.

Out of nowhere you felt something tugging at your coat again, it gave off a sense of Deja vu. Of course it was him, who was only pinching the corner of it with a shaky hand. His grip had lost any strength compared to before, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. “What?” You asked him, though you didn’t stop your administrations. He cried out when he opened his mouth to speak, breaking down in front of you, for your entertainment only.

“Haaaa-HnnGh… wait, p-please wait-!♡” Was he telling you it was too much? It’s making you want to overstimulated him even more. He was being so pathetic it was cute. Without wasting a single second, you went as fast as you could, blatantly ignoring his pleads. Based on your own observations, he must have been close, if he was similar to a real person. “Feels good?” You asked, to make sure he was alright. He didn’t reply again and only nodded all weakly, but you’ll let it slide this time.

He felt so hot and strange, it was a nice but unfamiliar feeling. Not only that, he felt something burning building up inside him and it was threatening to spill. That’s why he wanted you to slow down. Poor thing was confused, absolutely baffled what this warm feeling was. Is it love? It must be love. He loved you and you loved him after all. All in all it wasn’t a bad feeling, and since you seemed happy, he is too!

Another sudden wave of pleasure coursed through him, his eyes were clouded with lust and bliss, and the dirty whimpers that slipped past his lips got more erotic by the second. How desperate and lovesick he sounded, begging, pleading, squirming and trashing around on the spot. Thighs pressed together while his toes curled, back arched as a last moan ripped from his throat, “nnNgGHhh ♡♥︎ ♡～” Just as you predicted, that must have been his climax. Now’s the question, did he came in his pants? Did such things still have a reproductive system?

My my, it seems that is the case, whatever it was it seeped through the dark fabric of his trousers, causing an even darker spot to appear.

You only caught glimpses of it since he was hiding his own body so much, but you were content nevertheless. Since he was so obedient the entire time, you decided to be nice to him with the limited vocabulary you had. “Cute.” His kneeling figure was still shuddering and twitching, ragged gasps and pants were also coming from him. But for him, the only thing he could hear was your voice ringing and echoing in his mind, as well as the awfully loud beats of his own heart.

After all this time, you finally praised him! Well you did before but this time he was sure of it! And you found him cute! He was so happy he couldn’t stop grinning. That’s when you said, “do you want anything?” It was to kind of make up for making a fool out of him, or maybe for breaking his umbrella. He didn’t even think before quickly turning his head up, slurring out, “g-give me you name?” You blinked, that wouldn’t have been what you wished for but oh well. Right before you simply told him the answer you stopped yourself, and responded teasingly, “call me master.”

You weren’t sure if he knew the meaning behind it, but it didn’t matter. He had a blank look for a few seconds, mumbling to himself, most likely repeating that word a thousand times. While he did that, he let his head hang low again, facing the floor. His hair hid his face really well, and you couldn’t read his expression. “You alright?” You asked once the silence started to make you feel uneasy.

He placed both his hand on the floor and leaned down, until his face was hovering centimetres above your shoe, and he whispered eagerly, excessively so, “I’m happy, master. I love you.” Before kissing the tip of your shoe. You stared down in disbelief, a shiver running down your spine. He was more of a freak than you thought.

The moment he was done, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, proceeding to yank on it, making him face you on eye-level while he gasped in surprise. Your other hand clutched the umbrella more tightly, causing him to groan slightly. “Stupid dog.” You chuckled with a sinister smile spread across your face, watching as hearts appeared in the middle of his pupils.

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sophiethewitch1 · 4 months ago

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What We Want - Chpt. 8 - Jason Fucking Todd

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Well, look on the bright side of things. You’re not crying right now. That’s nice. You’re not an intern anymore. That’s nice. You struggle to think of anything else. Oh yeah, you’re rich! That’s also nice. You’re not dead. Nice.

This is kind of pathetic. You just feel bummed after having to break up with George a second time. And getting smacked right in the face by him. Which you know, anybody would be, you think. You don’t think a single soul has ever known the George Lancaster Break-Up Special more than once. And you didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that asshole more than once.

You couldn’t fake a brave face anymore, you just didn’t have the energy for it.

…And let’s not forget almost dying via Joker goon. Not even the man himself, just a random lackey. You think of how he literally disappeared in front of your eyes, and decide you are going to stop thinking. It’s doing you no good anyway.

Instead, you just start walking. Letting your feet and your intimate knowledge of Gotham’s streets, even in this area you don’t often frequent, guide you. You find yourself at the train station. With little consideration, you buy a ticket to the southern part of the city. The bad side of town, the docks, where your apartment used to be.

You feel like a little rat scurrying back into the sewers as you hop on the subway, tucking yourself in between people who don’t recognise you, probably because of your general dishevelment.

Shoulders knocking against strangers, you feel the most at home since this whole disaster started. You stare across the train car, watching a baby babble to its mother. It catches your eye, gives you a big toothless smile, and some snot dribbles into it’s mouth. The mother notices and cleans the baby up with a tissue. When she catches you staring, you give a very awkward but friendly smile, and she smiles back.

A tiny weight lifts off your shoulders. Surrounded by the chaos of Gotham, as the subway exits the tunnels and heads up onto the sky rails, you find yourself warm by the rays of sun through the clouds. The view is beautiful, as it always is. Usually, you’d be looking at your phone, too busy to enjoy the sights. But it really is beautiful.

It’s only when you hear the announcer calling out that you realise you did this for a reason, and dart out of your seat and through the narrowly closing doors. The metal closes behind you with a small hiss. The Docks station, for most people, would be one of the better Gotham train stations. Newly built, and with all the tourist money it was clean. Well, clean as it could get. You’d read some article about the bacteria the rats were carrying being not found anywhere else on earth, and you’d decided to stop reading articles.

Anyway, for you, even the shining marble of the station was a sad sight. Because you only ever came here on your very worst days.

This seemed like one of them.

The familiar streets flit past you, barely something you’re even cognisant of. This part of the city was mostly new, the concrete fresh under your feet instead of littered with potholes. Still, it wasn’t at the centre of the blast radius, so it hadn’t been totally demolished.

No, that was just up ahead. And like everything else in this weird new world, you immediately noticed something different. Where your family had died was… still there, for some reason.

With confusion, exhaustion, and no small bit of despair, you stop in the middle of the pathway outside the remnants of what used to be an old diner and was now just a pile of rocks. Some very charred rocks. Looking at the wreckage, you raise your brows. Its crumbling form is still under construction after all these years. The yellow caution tape is only a deterrence to you because you don’t want to end up on the gossip reels for a second time today. Looking around, you find yourself further confused. Lots of other parts of the pier had been redeveloped, but this piece of the puzzle still lay bare.

It didn’t, in your home, your world. It had been replaced with high-rise apartments, and since they were so close to the water, so pretty and new, you had no hope of affording them. It probably wouldn’t be very good for your mental health even if you could. Still, you’d taken many walks past the street. Enjoyed the little bit of dirty white concrete that had survived. You and your siblings had signed your names into it, and you’d stroked the sidewalk like the weirdo you were many times.

Like you did today. And today, for some reason, the rest of it was here. Untouched. A remnant of the disaster. As you run your thumb along the sharp edge of Julie’s J, you find yourself once again lost in your memories. They were like honey traps to you these days.

The mum-and-pops diner had been run by your uncle. It’d been in the family for three generations, and he was incorrigibly proud of it. You’d all had your birthday parties there, because it was free and you were poor. It wasn’t like your uncle would let you pay for the food anyway, it was just one of the few times Mum could stand the generosity. She didn’t like it when you had disappointing birthdays, and no matter how much you tried to fake your happiness, she could always see to your core. Eventually, you and your siblings all gave up on trying.

You were late. You were often late, but this time it was… it was the difference between life and death. If you’d been a few blocks further, a little bit earlier, you’d probably be dead too. Or at least have some serious hearing loss instead of just suffering mild tinnitus.

You had felt more than seen the destruction. The earth had rumbled, and a deafening roar had swept through the streets. You remember falling to your knees, the worry about being late morphing to worry for your best clothes to a true terror when you realised where the blast had come from.

When you realised your family was in the epicentre.

You sometimes wish you were on time that day. That you’d gotten to see them all, even if you went with them. It didn’t sound so bad, really. At least you wouldn’t be alone. Hmm, you should probably stop thinking like that. Or maybe go to a therapist about it.

Not that you could afford it. Oh, right. Rich now. That was really taking some getting used to.

You wonder if people who won the lottery felt the same way. Probably not, because the rest of the world reflected the changes the person felt. They’d have to go pick up the check, go to the bank, and if they let their family and friends know, deal with the consequences of that.

You’d just woken up rich. No time to adjust, your new life was here and it was demanding your attention very loudly. And soup-ly, unfortunately. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the rubble, you look towards your left, where you know the Memorial awaits you. It’s in the centre of the new shopping district, built on top of the bombed parts of Gotham. It sits right next to the water, the cold breeze a comfort that you’d turned to on more than one occasion.

You’d feel bad if you didn’t change your clothes. You told Grayson you would, and you already felt bad enough about... everything to do with him. You suppose he was your brother. Your ex-brother. Ex-step-brother. The ex-step-brother of a woman who you weren’t.

Really, he was just a stranger. It seemed he didn’t feel that way, though.

You start the walk towards the shopping district, and into the first clothes store you see. The prices on the tags would usually make you flinch, but well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing seems to matter. Your survival is now guaranteed, might as well wear some clothes that feel nice on your skin.

You walk out of that store looking like you just robbed it. Even the clerk had given you a weird look but accepted the black card tucked in your phone without much complaint. It’s an improvement if a small one.

Once you’re done, like a moth to a flame, you drift towards the Memorial centre. You’re following all the steps you used to in the past, but somehow, it all feels a bit alien. The world looks a little different, a little uncomfortable. Your shoes are worn in, and yet they still feel too tight.

Uncanny valley. You feel unwelcomed here, unwanted. Like the very earth can tell that there’s something wrong in this scene, some intruder. You ignore the feeling as best you can.

The Memorial is just as unfamiliar as the diner was, maybe even more. You know that your mother was a Wayne before she died. You know that. But still seeing your family’s framed photos, right alongside Jason's is so shocking you nearly jump. It takes a moment of wide-eyed staring before you can manage to get past that. When you do, for some reason you still go back to your old habits. You walk by them, the bouquets and to where their names used to be in thin letters.

You count with your fingers, finding the fifty-second line.

A man’s name replaces the spot where your mother’s is. The little grooves the oil in your fingers had left behind were gone, and instead was sharp stone like when the monument was first erected. It cuts at your fingers. It no longer welcomes your touch.

James Whitaker. That’s the name of the man who took their spot.

You can already feel a rising obsession with the random dead man. If you were going to psycho-analyse yourself, you’d recognise that you didn’t feel that the images of the Waynes you’d created were no longer real, no longer safe to your escapist mindset. You’d realise, that this was all pretty unhealthy, and you really, really needed therapy.

Instead, you give the guy your condolences and start reading the other plinths. They seem largely the same. It’s not like you hadn’t read all of these towers of stone at one point or another, your eyes glazing over the many, many names. So much devastation, all in one moment.

And still, this was not even a tenth of all the lives the Joker had taken. You kinda wanna go take a kick at one of the Bat signals littered around the city. Maybe that’d make you less… broiling with incompetent rage.

Again, maybe you should just go to therapy. You should call Jeanine about that or something.

Eventually, you circle back to your family and Jason’s shrines. You know, back then you’d been jealous that Jason Todd had been so well mourned. You’d wished your family had gotten the same treatment.

Now, you… felt jealous again. Possessive, over their memory, their image. You didn’t really like that random strangers that never knew them… knew them. That Sam always got As in English and Art class but would sometimes skip math and would hide in the bathrooms to do so. That Chasey had struggled with going to school because of her anxiety but kept going because she had a friend going through the exact same thing. That Julie was the ace of her school’s soccer team, and that she’d almost gotten them to nationals even in the presence of all the super-rich schools in Gotham. That your Mum was a great cook but genuinely hated doing it, but for some reason, baking was her favourite thing even as she had never made a proper macaron.

They didn’t know them. They knew their faces and a facsimile of them, but they didn’t know them. It reminded you of the people at the orphanage. Nice, but not kind. They’d had their own lives, they didn’t want some bratty, demented teenager who was going down and planning on taking everyone with her.

You really couldn’t be happy, could you? Maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. What you want now. What you’d wanted for a while, actually.

Ugh. You close your eyes and let out a deep, soul-shaking sigh. It takes a moment for you to shore up the willpower to open them again. Come on, flower shop, finish your weird little ritual then you can go home and hide for the next millenia.

The walk there is the same as always, if a little more morose. It’s in a good spot, near the church just a block away and the memorial on its other side, as well as less sombre atmospheres down near the pier. Well, as little sombre as Gotham can manage.

You feel like you blink and you’re there. Too quickly, you find a rainbow of blooms in front of you, the scent of the blossoms washing over you. When you walk into the flower shop, the bell at the door rings the same as it always does. On autopilot, you walk over to the small, cheaper buds. Your hand clenches around the crinkly wrapping paper, a bundle of posies in your hand. You go to the counter with your prize in hand.

Larissa, the counter worker, smiles at you. Your breath hitches. It’s a working smile, not one of the real, toothy ones she used to give you.

“Oh wow, I thought all the posies had sold out. Lucky you!”

You think of something to say, but the moment passes and you don’t. She rings you up, tells you the price, and when you pay, asks sweetly if you want a receipt.

She doesn’t say your name. Doesn’t acknowledge how you come here every week and buy this same handful of flowers. She doesn’t ask about your job or the weather. She doesn’t cheerfully tell you about how her apprenticeship is going, or about the next sweet thing her partner has done. No, she just stares at you, growing more uncomfortable the longer it takes for you to answer.

She doesn’t even seem to recognise this other version of you. It feels like another string that tied you down to the earth has been snipped. You have an image in your head of a child losing a balloon, desperately grasping at the air. You’re going to float up into the atmosphere, and then you’re going to pop.

You can see the foil glinting in the sun’s light, so, so clearly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Yes, a receipt, please.”

Taking it blindly, you barely flutter your eyes open as you walk out of the shop. She didn’t know you, didn’t remember you. That doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. You hadn’t really known her. It doesn’t matter. There’s no real difference, it doesn’t matter.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it never really mattered. You keep telling yourself this as you walk back over to the memorial. As you lay your flowers down with the others, the little posies are dwarfed by the other donations. It didn’t matter. You didn’t know her. None of this matters. Their flowers don’t matter.

You don’t matter. You hit that errant thought with a mental fly swatter.

Exhausted, you sit down next to the monument. You used to be able to lay your head on the stone, able to feel your family in the warmth it had absorbed in the sun. Now you just sort of, awkwardly reached out to the small bit of uncovered plinth at the side. You have to stick your hand through a wreath to do so.

It’s not warm. You wonder if your family are sad. And then you wonder if you’re an idiot for attributing feelings to a literal rock.

After a while, you get up. Cross your arms. You stare at your family's portraits, eyes moving over their smiles. One by one. You recognise some of the photographs, those are your favourites. A smile cracks across your face when you see the picture of when Chasey lost her two front teeth. She still grins cheekily at the camera, uncaring for any changes to her appearance, as all kids shouldn’t.

Your shoulders fall just the slightest bit when you see the picture of Jason Todd. It’s one of his older pictures. Probably seventeen or something. He’d always been a lovely boy when he was younger. And he still was up till he died but you’d always thought you’d seen something start to change in him. That sparkle of innocence, dulled, just the slightest.

And then he’d died. And you’d wondered if maybe he’d felt it was coming.

You certainly hadn’t. It had been like a hurricane tearing through your life. You’d ended up on the other side completely abandoned, the only friend who’d bothered to keep seeing you being one who’d learnt to dodge train ticket costs like a damn ninja. And you’d had to decide whether you could keep doing this, whether you even wanted to.

You were an obsessive creature by nurture. It had been all you could do to hang onto the Waynes, pretend they would love and care for you even if they’d have never even noticed you in real life. You weren’t sure that was strength or simple human survival. Dying was scary. Of course, you were scared of dying.

Your whole family had died. So, you told yourself, that Jason Fucking Todd would be sad if you killed yourself, and somehow, you had made it all these years.

And now here you were, and the Waynes did notice you in real life. You were important to them. You didn’t want to be, but you were. And again, you have to ask yourself, what would Jason Todd ask of you? What would he want you to do now, in this impossible situation you’ve found yourself in?

You stare at the picture. Stare at the way the sun hits his dark hair and blue eyes. Stare very, very hard. Like he might crawl out and give you a detailed list of what to do. You’d really like a detailed list. Or any guidance at all. Maybe you could go hit up a seance or something.

Your head falls forward into your sun-warmed palms. This is so stupid. No answers are going to fall from the sky, you need to find them yourself. And you’re not going to find them here.

Someone walks up beside you to the old memorial, and you quickly tuck yourself back into an acceptable image. Fold in all the rough edges you can. A tall and well-built man, with a face mask, sunglasses and a trucker hat, he looks like he could be a celebrity or something. Someone important, much more than you.

And you weren’t, not technically, at least. The universe had done the equivalent of a shelving error, and now here you goddamn were.

He does an odd pose next to you, something military-esque, where he clasps his hands together and bows his head. With a quick flick of your eyes you confirm, yes, his feet are equal with his shoulders. It’s obvious that he’s paying his respects so you do your best not to judge him too hard.

And then he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, startled and confused.

“For your loss,” the deep voice finishes, jerking his head toward the pictures in front of the two of you.

“Wha- oh uh, um,” you blink and then realise that this person has recognised you, which would make sense since you are literally in one of the photos in front of you, and manage to pull your fading conscious mind back together for a moment more.

“Thank you, uh-” you stare at him a moment longer, “You too?”

Almost worse than that time you told the barista who gave you your coffee you hoped she enjoyed hers too, but not quite. Well, you know, he’d probably lost someone here too. You don’t know why he’d be here otherwise unless he wanted an autograph or something. The thought almost makes you laugh.

He snorts at your words. You don’t know what to make of that.

He looks back down at the pictures and flowers. You think he does, at least, from the slight shifting of his head. He’s kind of mysterious. Pair that with the deep voice, the muscular and tall physique, and you’re an odd mix of attracted and socially anxious. Not that you’re not always socially anxious, but this guy feels… strong. Dumb again, you can see his biceps from here but…

You just can’t quite shake it off. Strong. Strong.

“They didn’t deserve it, none of them did,” he speaks again, and you wonder what the fuck he’s going on about at all.

You admit, you sound a little bitter when you mutter, “Well, that’s obvious.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, and you see his eyes flash to you from under his sunglasses. A shade of blue. There’s another odd pause, and then he turns to you. You don’t know why he’s looking at you. He crosses his arms, and seems to size you up.

“What are you doing here?” he asks you like he knows you.

Your brow furrows. Okay, kind of losing any hotness points here. Bothering someone who was grieving could’ve been seen as rude from the very start, but you’d just thought he was weird. Now, you thought he was weird and rude.

“…Paying my respects. Obviously,” you gesture downwards, “My mother, my siblings, and…”

Well, how would you describe the relationship between you and Jason Todd now? He was still just a stranger to you and-

“With who, that guy?”

Now, it isn’t often that you’re stunned into silence, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to do anything but stare and gape. Frankly, you’re astonished! You’ve never met anyone who spoke so rudely of the dead, and well, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to do it in front of.

“Excuse me?” your voice can’t seem to convey even half of your offence, even as you sound like you’re about ready to bite a second person for today. The man pauses like you’ve surprised him, which- what the fuck is going on? Why do you feel like an alien crash-landed on Earth these days?

“No, I just meant-” he huffs, shakes his head, and continues, his voice now offended too, “What the fuck am I saying? Yes, I did mean that. That little twerp was a naive idiot who was manipulated by the people he believed in most.”

You stare, absolutely speechless, as the stranger goes on a damn-fucking-near crazed rant about one of the people most important to you. Never met? Sure. Dead as hell? Absolutely. But still, he was one of your lifelines. Your candlelight in the dark, guiding your way even when you felt completely lost. And now he’s calling him a naive idiot? You can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears.

“He changed nothing, made no difference in the end-”

“Nothing?!” you practically shriek, finally able to find your voice just to use it to shout, “He changed… so much! He donated millions of dollars, did heaps of charity work, was practically a treasure to our city… He made multiple homeless shelters, an orphanage, helped rehabilitate criminals and countless other things.”

Your fists are clenched tight enough that they shake. You hide them behind your back, but you still feel like he can probably see them. Your emotions are simmering too close to the surface, bubbling over and onto the floor. About to burn his sneakers to ash.

“You seem like you care a lot,” he says, sounding reserved.

“Of course, I care.”

“…It’s just, you didn’t seem the type, on the TV,” he keeps talking, poking at you for some god-awful reason, and you bark out a harsh laugh.

“Maybe people need to stop making so many fucking assumptions, then? It certainly hasn’t gotten you anywhere,” you throw your hands up, damn sick of all the constant fucking surveillance you’re under. You can see why this version of you lost her mind. You’re near about to as well.

He stares at you for a moment longer, and you start feeling too uncomfortable. It’s a stupid and useless protectiveness that has you staying. Like he’ll somehow try and harm the shrine to your people. It’s happened before, Joker fanboys defacing it and such. This guy could be one of those bastards.

And yet… somehow you feel…

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he finally says.

“Good, you do that.”

“But in the end, nothing’s really changed. Joker’s still out and about, as you well know.”

You physically flinch like you’ve been slapped. For a good minute there, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You raise one shaking fist, and lift one trembling finger, pointing. The man looks in the direction you’ve pointed, and when he doesn’t see anything, turns back to you. His sunglasses reflect the grey afternoon sun.

“Go,” you order, voice shaking just like the rest of you.

He just keeps staring at you. You wish he’d take off those dumb fucking glasses, so you could see this asshole’s face. Etch it into your mind. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t take any action. He simply waits for you to… Well, you don’t know what you’ll do. You haven’t known what you’d do since you left Dick behind two hours ago.

“You need to go,” you say again, and again, he doesn’t fucking move, “You… there’s… you have no right.”

You can hear the buzz of the city around you, the wind rushing by. His clothes rustle in the wind. Your voice sounds too loud in your ears, but he won’t just… he won’t leave. You don’t want this stranger here, watching you. Judging you. It’s all…

“Jason didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, and you think to yourself, desperately, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

There’s a slight shift in the stranger’s posture. His shoulders tensed.

You think you’ve offended him.

“The Joker… That’s nobody's fault but the government for not just sucking it up and giving him the death penalty, or Batman’s for not doing it himself a long time ago. They’re all fucking useless, but they’re the ones who are supposed to be dealing with this!” you continue, your words growing more heated. It’s only the already looming threat of an assault case that keeps you from shoving the guy. Not like you’d be able to move him an inch, of course, he was huge.

You’re sure it would feel good, though.

“It was never some random teenager's responsibility, and it wasn't mine either,” you say, but find yourself pausing for a moment when you hear the end of your sentence. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious anyway.

You’d tied yourself and Jason up together in your head. To you, you were both two sides of the same coin. One foot in the grave. You’ve got one foot in the grave…

“Jason Todd was a good person, and he made the world a better place.”

You look down at the portrait of the boy, his toothy smile twisting at your heart. None of this was fair. None of this had ever been fair. Why was this guy acting like anybody here had ever been able to do anything about it? Like Jason should’ve been smarter, and avoided a fucking bomb blast?

It was stupid. This was stupid, and you were over it. You were tired.

“And I miss him.”

It’s quiet after you say that.

“I don’t know how you can think it’s fair to act like his death was pointless when… of course it was, all of this was pointless,” you say, throwing your hands wide and gesturing to the entire memorial. “This was a tragedy, but Jason was a victim. And I’m sick of people like you who think they can decide whether someone else’s life was lived right. It’s not your damn right.”

“Now… fuck off!” you announce, and to your shock, he does. He fucks right off. The man gives you one last lingering look, and then turns and leaves without another word. Not like you needed them.

You huff out a shocked breath, and then turn back to the memorial.

The framed faces of your loved ones stare back at you, and for all you know it’s stupid, you can’t help but feel embarrassed for the display. You know your mother would’ve scolded you for your language, at least.

“Sorry,” you say, and you’re unfortunately reminded of that irritating man again. Likely that won’t be the first time he pops up again in your head. He seemed well, insane. Which wasn’t that odd in Gotham but… god, you just couldn’t seem to let it go.

It pissed you off to high heaven. His rudeness was something you’d usually be able to shrug off, especially from some random stranger, but, but, but-! Argh, damn it all. And it wasn’t like that was the first time you had had that sort of conversation, but it was certainly the first time someone had been so bold as to bring it up in front of your dead mother’s smiling face.

Earlier today had snuffed out the fire in you, but that encounter had been the spark to reignite it. More than that, actually. It had made you so damn pissed, made your blood boil in a way you just couldn’t ignore, to the point that you wanted to prove him wrong.

Jason Todd had mattered and had made a difference and change in Gotham. He had made a change in you. You put your hands on your hips, stare down at the flowers, and make a decision.

You’re going to fix your goddamn life. For Jason Fucking Todd.

Your body feels like shit, your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, and yet this is the greatest opportunity you’ve ever been given. You have a chance to save yourself, and save your friends, and fix all the tiny little problems in Gotham that you’ve suffered through since childhood. Surely just throwing enough money at all your problems would fix some of them.

You were rich. If you couldn’t fix your life with millions of dollars available, then you had no chance.

And yeah, you don’t know what you’re doing. You know you can’t really change what happened. Back then or even just a few days ago. But you hate that. You hate it so much. You hate how weak you are in the face of loss. How both then and now, there’s nothing you can really do. And maybe if just out of spite, towards that asshat, Batman, Joker and everyone else, you want to make a change.

You want to be able to do something about it. You want it, so fucking bad.

First order of business?

…You want more flowers.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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unconventional-lawnchair · 4 months ago

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...Too Late."

Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader

Summary: Remus comes to terms with a love lost to his own insecurities.

CW; Use of {Y/N}, Remus is dumb, yearning}

Wc: 3706

Part two

The cold night air nipped at Remus’s skin with an intensity he wasn't familiar with. He kept himself focusing on anything other then the bright lights and muffled music behind him.

He wasn't unused to the parties the Potters would throw, they were always over the top and loud, especially when James planned them. Remus would always do his rounds, speak to people he hasn't spoken to since Hogwarts, and then disappear in some quiet corner with one of Lily’s many books. Tonight? He would do anything to go home.

It wasn't the party, it wasn't his friends, for once it wasn't Sirius’s obnoxious drunken stunts. Nothing like that could send the werewolf running with his tail between his legs.

Of course, it could only be you.

“Woah, pretty cold out here, hm?” Your voice called out into the balcony from where you peaked out the door. Remus grimaced, what did he expect? Of course you would come looking for him. You two were best friends.

“Something on your mind, little Lupin?” You persisted despite his lack of acknowledgement. Remus would have rolled his eyes if he could keep the small smile off his face. You had a talent for making him feel a million emotions at once.

Ever since the day James introduced him to his older sister, the Quidditch captain, turned prefect, turned head girl. Now? Celebrated Auror. A full fledged detective.

Here he was, two years graduated and already falling behind. When he was younger, you were so unobtainable. Gone before he even hit year five. There, he could pretend that his heart didn't ache at your name, that you weren't always on his mind, that he didn't spend sleepless nights telling Lily just how much it pained him to know he'd never be worth your time.

He felt like a sap. Like a sad excuse of a man to know you hadn't spent a minute thinking about him the ways he thought of you.

“Remus?” Your voice was closer this time. You had your hands on the railing and were looking at him with such sweet eyes. Ones he remembered from his nights up in the hospital wing, with you reciting old notes from your previous years you had kept, while others studied in the classrooms.

“Hey, {Y/N}.” He mumbled and you clearly grimaced, making him look away from you.

“Have I...” You fiddled with your fingers, looking off at the manor you grew up running around. “Have I done something wrong, Remus?”

“What?” He whispered and turned to face you fully, his face falling hard. He had the chance to fully take you in. You were beautiful, but he knew that. Your hair was shorter then he remembered, your eyes were brighter, you looked.. happier. But even then, you were frowning, your brows furrowed, and it was because of him.

You gave a half sigh half scoff as you gestured between the two of you. “I haven't seen you in three years, Rem. You took one look at me and walked away.”

Remus felt his heart sink a bit at your tone. He hated to disappoint you, but what could he do to make this better? “I-” What could he say to make this hurt less? His voice came out like a pathetic whisper. “I didn't mean to, I just didn't know.. what to say? What to do?”

You have another, much more clear scoff. You raised an eyebrow, and the look on your face was a blend of confusion and something deeper. Something that made his stomach churn. “How to act? Remus, we were best friends. We still are, aren’t we?” You bit your cheek and look back at him, locking your eyes. “Even if you insist on pretending you don't know me.”

Remus felt the heat rise to his ears, an all-too-familiar rush of embarrassment mixed with guilt. A weird mixture that he seemed to seep in whenever you were around. It was never his intention to push you away, but the fear of his feelings had always loomed larger than the friendship you carried. He didn't want to be your friend. But he would have you anyway he could, even if it hurt him more then he'd like to admit. It felt like a weight too heavy to carry, and he had thought that distancing himself would lessen the burden.

“I…” He started, but the words tangled in his throat. You sat there patiently. You always did. From his monthly outlashes to his damaged moping after. “You don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t care about you. It’s just... every time I see you, it feels like I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t have.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes squishing closed. “You’re amazing, {Y/N}. You’ve done so much, and I-”

“Remus,” you interrupted, taking a step closer, your eyes searching his. Carefully, you placed a hand on his arm and it was like every knot in his body released. “You’re amazing too. You just graduated not but two years ago, and you’re already doing incredible things. I've heard about how you've joined the order, that's amazing. Everyone speaks so highly of you, please. You can’t keep comparing yourself to me. I’m not some unattainable ideal. I’m your friend. You know me, I'm just {Y/N}.”

“I'm just {Y/N}.”

You've said that to him so many times you'd think he'd listen.

But each time, it felt like a reminder that no matter how much you downplayed your accomplishments, with your Potter humility, you were still lightyears ahead of him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow unworthy of you, that your brilliance only served to highlight his own insecurities. You were the sun, you always would be. And he could only reflect what you saw in him. With all your light, he could only admire it.

“{Y/N}, you don’t get it.” He said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’ve always been the one in the spotlight, and I’m just... me.” He gestured to himself, before giving a low sigh. “Can we talk about something else?”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as you considered his words. “So you think I’m only here for the spotlight? That I wouldn’t choose to be around you just because you feel like you don’t measure up?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he replied, his voice rising with each word. “It’s not that simple! I care about you too much to drag you down with me. I want you to be happy, and I’m not-”

“Remus, don't.” You cut him off and lifted your hand. He could hear your voice crack, the corners of your eyes glistened. He felt his heart break, again and again, as he admired the glistening rock on your fingers; one far bigger then he could ever afford. “You don't get to do this. You don't get to ignore me for years and then.. profess your love! Like that just makes every night I spent just waiting-”

Your voice finally cracked and you sniffled, quickly drying your tears with your open palm. “Waiting for you to say it.”

“{Y/N}...”

“No.” You shook your head and sniffed a bit. “I'm not letting you do this. Not at my engagement party, Remus. Your timing is shit and I deserve someone who won't shut me out. Won't make me wait-”

“Won't know you longer than a year before getting on one knee for you?” He snapped back and you gave a bitter laugh.

“A man who loved me enough to get over himself!” You shouted back and he shook his head.

“Oh right, because Benjy Fenwick has so much to get over, right? That pretty scarless face and his normal full moons?” He shouted. “How long did he have to pine after you for you to entertain him?”

“You don't get to pick at him. You don't get to diminish our relationship because you didn't take me when you could have had me!”

The air between you crackled with tension, both of your hearts laid bare in the chilly night and icy glares. Remus could feel the sting of your words hitting him harder than any hex ever could, and it cut deeper than his own self absorbed pity. He had never meant to make you feel small, and yet here he was, pushing his own insecurities onto you.

“I didn’t mean to-” He felt his words catch in his throat, but even those words fell flat, lost in the weight of your confession. He could of had you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, and it twisted his gut in a way that was both familiar and so foreign he was sure it wasn't his own body..

“You didn’t mean to what, Remus?” Your voice dripped with frustration, the vulnerability from moments ago replaced with an anger he was never on the receiving side of. “You didn’t mean to ruin the night? What we had? You didn’t mean to push me away? Or maybe you just didn’t mean to love me at all?”

The last words hung in the air and he could only look down at your left hand again. It was like a wall, something blocking him away from what he truly wanted. Something he waited far too long for.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, as the reality of your words settled in. Remus felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him teetering on the edge of a precipice he had never wanted to face. His yearning. The air was heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the moments he had missed, and all the chances he hadn’t taken.

Was this one? Or should he drop it too? Would it be better for him to push? For him to take the chance? Or let you go.

“{Y/N}…” He managed, but the words felt insufficient, like a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm that had grown between you. One he chiseled out himself over the years he was too much of a coward to face you. “I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe me.”

Your gaze softened momentarily, but the hurt was still there, raw and so clear. “You didn’t just hurt me, Remus. You left me wondering what I did wrong. Why you couldn’t see me for who I really was. I'm not some hero I'm just.. I'm just a Potter. I was just a girl who-.” Your voice trembled, and he felt a pang in his chest, like a physical ache at the thought of causing you pain. “Who loved you, Remus. Who loved you so much.”

“I thought I was protecting you.” He said, desperation creeping into his tone. “I thought if I stayed away, you’d be happier. That maybe I wouldn’t be a burden on everyone I knew. You were special. You were special to me, {Y/N}.”

“Were.” You whispered. “Was. I was. You were too Remus.”

“{Y/N}, please-”

“Hey, princess, you out here?” It was like a lightning bolt had struck, cutting through the tension that had built up like a storm cloud between you. Leaving its damaging crackles between you two, blocking Remus from crossing the line. The lovely voice of Benjy Fenwick echoed from inside the house, and your expression shifted instantly- a mask of calmness slipping over the raw emotion that had just been laid bare between you.

“Just a minute!” You called back, though your gaze remained locked on Remus, a flicker of panic showing in your eyes. He could see the struggle within you, the desire to stay and confront the truths that hung in the air, but also the need to go back to him, to shield yourself from the pain he had caused. To be with the man who was months away from promising that pain like this would never cross your face again.

“{Y/N}…” He started again, his heart racing. He felt as if he were grasping at smoke, trying to hold onto you with so much desperation. He could see it, however, you were already gone.

“Remus, I…” You hesitated, glancing back towards the door where Benjy’s voice called again, more impatient this time. “I can’t do this right now.”

With that, you took a step back, breaking the weathering connection that had tethered you together just moments before. The warmth of your hand on his arm faded, and he was left feeling colder than ever. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, like a spell cast that he couldn’t break.

“Please.” He begged, his voice a mere whisper now, barely audible over the muffled music. “Don’t go.”

But you were already turning away, caught between two worlds- the past and the future, the love you had shared and the life that was now laid out before you. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to step back into the safety of the warm lights and laughter, to return to the life that felt secure, even if it meant leaving him behind. Leaving him to watch helplessly as you fell into the arms of a man that was nothing like him.

“Remus.” You warned, your voice trembling as you faced him one last time. “I need to go. I can’t keep doing this. Not now.”

Your eyes were filled with a mixture of nostalgic pain and resolve, and in that moment, he could see the conflict raging within you. But he felt powerless to change your mind, to convince you to stay and unravel the tangled web of emotions that had ensnared both of you. He was taking his last stand for you.

“Wait.” His voice cracked, stepping forward, his heart pounding so loud he couldn't hear anything but your voice. “I know I messed up. I know I made you wait, and I know I pushed you away. But I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

Your gaze dropped to the ground, and he could see the battle you were fending off with yourself. “Remus, you’re not losing me,” you pushed, your voice softening, though the distance between you felt greater then ever. “You made your choice when you walked away. You chose to shut me out.”

“No, I chose to keep you safe.” He insisted, desperation taking a full hold on his voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I stayed away, I wouldn’t ruin your life. But I see now that all I did was make you feel alone.”

You inhaled sharply, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding in your eyes. “You don’t know what it feels like to be waiting in the dark, Remus. You don’t know what it’s like to love someone who won’t let you in.”

His heart ached at your words, and he took another step closer, reaching out as if he could draw you back into the warmth of his arms, at least as a friend, the connection that had once felt so unbreakable. “I'll let you in now. I’m here. I’m ready to be what you need. Just give me a chance. Please.”

But you shook your head, the resolve returning to your features. “You had your chance, Remus. And I’m not going to break another heart just to spare mine-”

“Ours.” He insisted and you shook your head. You tried to hide it, but he could see it. You weren't over him. And he clung to the chance like it was a life line.

“Baby! There you are!” Benjy laughed as he opened the patio door. He stepped out and Remus watched as you schooled your expression and gave him a dazzling smile. Your mascara was smokey now, he could see how much you were clearly bothered in the new light.

Benjy didn't notice. “Pretty girl, it's freezing out here!” He chuckled and took off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders and put his arm around you. You just laughed and shook your head.

“It's not that bad.” You tried to placate and he didn't seem to notice your words. His cheeks flush and clearly a bit drunk.

“Hey! Remus, right? You're the new kid who joined the order, aren't ya? You know each other?” He mused and gestured between you two.

Remus felt a wave of nausea wash over him at Benjy’s familiarity with you. The warmth of your laughter felt like a dagger to his heart, twisting as he forced a smile in return, though he could feel the edges of his resolve crumbling.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He nodded, his voice low as he tried to mask the bitterness he felt. He wanted to say more, to challenge the ease with which Benjy wrapped his arm around you, but the words stuck in his throat. It felt as if he were standing on the sidelines of a game he had once played, now just a spectator to the happiness he had allowed to slip away.

You turned to Benjy, your eyes sparkling with a mix of affection he knew used to belong to him. “I was just enjoying some fresh air. Remus was keeping me company.”

“Oh, really? I thought I’d find you two out here reminiscing about your Hogwarts days.” Benjy chuckled, oblivious to the reminder only making you wince. “Thanks for keeping her entertained, bud.”

Benjy clapped his hand to Remus’s arm and turned, pulling you closer. “Let's get inside, yeah? Gonna freeze my tits off.”

His crude comment shocked a laugh out of you, making Remus flinch.

“Yeah, let’s get inside.” You hummed with a nod, your voice carrying a cheerfulness that felt forced. Remus wanted to scream, to reach out and pull you back, to tell you everything he had been too scared to say. But the words remained lodged in his throat, heavy with the weight of regrets unspoken.

As you turned to walk back inside, Remus felt the distance between you grow. He wanted to call after you, to stop you and lay bare his heart, but the laughter and music from the party surged around him, drowning out his thoughts.

He was losing you, and he knew it. The very thought made his heart ache, a dull throb that reverberated through him. It was a pain he had grown accustomed to over the years, but now it felt all too real, all too present, and he couldn’t bear it.

“Hey, Remus!” James's voice suddenly broke through the fog of his despair as he approached, a bright smile on his face. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Just… catching some fresh air. {Y/N} was keeping me out of my head.” Remus muttered, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He could see the excitement written all over his face, but it felt miles away, a world he no longer belonged to.

“Come inside! You’re missing the best part!” James insisted, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got some games going on, and Lily’s got a surprise planned. You’ll want to be there for it.”

Remus nodded, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alright, but don’t keep us waiting too long!” James called, heading back into the house, leaving Remus alone once more.

With a heavy sigh, Remus leaned against the railing, staring out into the night. The stars twinkled above him, indifferent to his turmoil, and he felt a hollow emptiness settle in his chest. He had always been good at hiding from the world, but now, he felt exposed and vulnerable, stripped of the defenses he had built around himself.

He glanced back toward the door, his heart racing as he thought about the laughter and joy that awaited him inside. But more importantly, you were inside, and he was terrified of what that meant.

The sound of laughter drew his attention back to the door, and he caught a glimpse of you and Benjy, surrounded by a group of friends. Your smile was genuine, your laughter infectious, and the way you leaned into Benjy, it stung more than anything he could have imagined. He almost heaved when he saw you give him such a gentle and loving kiss.

“Just say it.” He whispered to himself, the words echoing in his mind. “Just tell her how you feel.”

But the words wouldn’t come. He had waited too long, and now it felt like it was too late. Could he even do that? Could he ruin your chances at a normal life? That was what he wanted, right? You to be happy? To not be plagued with what he was?

As the door swung shut behind James, sealing you away with a future he couldn’t be a part of, Remus felt a sense of finality settle over him. He couldn't face you. It was done. He had let you slip through his fingers, and now all he could do was watch as you moved on without him.

With a final glance at the door, he turned away from the party, the music fading into the background as he made his way down the steps and into the darkness. He could feel the weight of his heart, heavy with regret, but he knew he had to keep moving forward, even if it meant leaving you to travel down your own path. One that had nothing to do with him.

Somehow, he would have to learn to live with the choices he had made, the love he had thrown away. And somehow, he would have to learn to live with the fact that he had lost the one person who had meant everything to him.

As he walked away from the Potters’ home, he felt the cold night air wrap around him more then before, a stark reminder of the warmth he had just lost. And with each step, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving a piece of himself behind- one he might never get back.

His heart always preferred you anyway.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #james potter #remus needs a hug #remus lupin x you #remus blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin #remus john lupin #x reader #fem reader #potter!reader #Remus Lupin x Potter!reader #benjy fenwick #Benjy x reader

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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago

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— BEING DEAN’S WIFE

REQUEST : “Hey, can i request a hcs of be Dean Winchester or Jensen ackles wife? and be super sweet and pure girl that is younger than them” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : fluff, angst (if you squeeze your eyes together, til you make a crescent moon shape), a little bit of nsfw at the very end bc it’s hilarious

A/N : uh, yeah, here’s a little gift! I didn’t wanna do university work so i did this instead ☺️ anyway, i think this is just a list of things i love about dean… LMAO XXXX

he will just stare at you for no reason

well, the reason is actually that he thinks your lovely to look at LOL

all those chick flicks he secretly loves to watch? yeah, he’ll recite the romantic stuff because he’s literally down bad for you

… he’s cringing on the inside but also knows he means every word

he’s so pathetic for you and he doesn’t even care

he loves to give you forehead kisses

and he wants them, too, but your lips need to linger a bit, and he’ll close his eyes and just release all the tension in his body because he’s touch starved

he plays with your wedding ring when your hand is right there in his line of sight

he will hold your hand and just stare at the way the ring shines in the sunlight and he will grin like a gigantic dork

ex : if your talking to him or someone else, he’ll just take your hand and gently run his fingers over the ring

he likes when you hold his head against your stomach

when he’s sitting and you’re standing and you move between his legs just to hold his adorable little face close to you, HE LOVES THAT

you’ll let him talk for hours about things he likes, things he wants to share with you

and when you admit you have no idea what he’s talking about when he makes references to old pop culture stuff, he’ll show you everything

.. if all that stuff he references was associated with something else, now it’s all associated with you and him

it’s like THERAPY, to redo stuff with you, to make it his again, and yours

teaching him how to use technology because he’s an old man (affectionate), and he learns fast bc he’s SMART

LOL, witnessing firsthand how genius and resourceful dean is when something breaks [yeah, I can’t stop thinking about him making his own EMF and Sammy being a complete NIPPLEHEAD (affectionate) about it ! as a STEM girly that was so sexy of dean]

HELLO HE SINGS, TO YOU. HE WILL SING YOU ALL THE LOVE SONGS OMG

or he’ll just sing randomly and not even notice that you’re listening to him

silence, comfortable silence, not sad, just.. peaceful

he likes not having to say anything sometimes, just being there with you

he plays with your hair A LOT, he’ll take strands and just feel the texture of it between his fingertips, he’ll even try to do your hair if you let him, if it’s long enough

CUDDLES, he needs that, too.

but he’d rather be on top when you cuddle, with his cute face on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, to your breathing, falling asleep if you run your fingers gently along his back or if you play with his hair

Dean starts mumbling a lot against your chest or shoulder when you’re just relaxing and having lazy conversation as you cuddle

how about KISSING HIS LITTLE DIMPLES??? idk about you but I just wanna kiss his little dimples when he does that specific SMILE or POUT, ya know what I mean! •ᴗ•?? or •~• ???

he flirts with you because you blush so easily

he gets flustered when you flirt back, BC HE’S NOT USED TO IT

he looks like a strawberry, just eatable, with the tips of his ears all red, then the pinkish hue pouring across his freckled cheeks and down his neck in cute little splotches 😭 ALRIGHT YEAH I THINK ABOUT THIS OFTEN

teasing him ABOUT EVERYTHING because that’s hilarious, and he’s indignant but also knows you’re so right and he’ll roll his eyes at you and pretend he’s mad

he can never be mad at you, only playfully!

UHHH ! KISSING THE LITTLE WRINKLES AT THE CORNER OF HIS PRETTY EYES !!!

squeezing him very tightly when you hug and just holding him until he’s practically putting all his weight over you like a willow tree

he’ll bother you on purpose, especially if you’re serious

ex : he takes strands of your hair and will put it in your ear LMAOO or tickle your face with it bc he’s never gonna let a single moment be boring

he grins like the cutest idiot in the world and you can’t be mad at him because he looks LIKE THAT, like the cutest idiot in the whole universe

wearing his clothes and pretending to be him, he thinks it’s cute and funny

he’ll hold your face a lot

and kiss you all over bc you’re cute and pure and deserve all the affection he can offer

and his hands are big and calloused, but he’s so tender and gentle, and warm

hugs from behind

smashing your face into his back and taking in the smell of his body (Mrs Butters lied, Dean smells good)

he’ll love the smell of your hair when he nuzzles into your neck, or the smell of your skin, or the softness of it

going on cute dates, like picnics, watching movies, going to the cinema, going to comic book stores

watching Disney movies together and he can recite the Dory movie by heart because HE LOVES THAT FISH FR

he’ll make you playlists of songs that remind him of you

He takes lots of photos, Polaroids are his favourite because he gets to put them anywhere and everywhere so he can smile and see you if you’re ever busy

you’ll always dress up on Halloween or just for fun whenever he wants

✨healing his inner child✨

grocery shopping together, he pouts when you don’t let him be unhealthy

if you’re short, he’s making fun of you for being shorter than him when he has to reach for stuff on shelves that you can’t reach even on your toes

he teaches you how to cook if you don’t know how to

and you eat the crazy food combinations he comes up with, like those marshmallow mac and cheese he said he made for Sam when they were kids , I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THAT TASTES LIKE

he teaches you how to fix cars! he’ll stare at you when you’re being silly ANYWAY PLS TEACH ME DEAN PLS

HAHAHAHAH but like hahahahah as in, 👀 the cute little names he calls you, and you thought they were cringe when couples said them to each other but actually when HE says it to YOU it makes you swoon and you blush, but you pretend you hate it at first because you’re not used to it but he can see through you, you love it

(I’m convinced that if he calls me darlin’, I will die on the spot, or my illnesses will be cured idk idk, I just know something spontaneous or magical will happen)

sharing everything, as in food

he’ll eat your leftovers, if there are any

or if he likes your stuff better than what he’s got, he’ll eat it when he think you’re not looking, but you are definitely aware, you’re just pretending because he’s so cute

trying all the Starbucks drinks together

having to deal with his grumpiness in the morning

even better, you’re not a morning person either so you’re both grumpy

he’s so cute when he’s had his first cup of coffee in the morning :’)

when you shower together, you both play with the shampoo on you heads LMAO

he gives really good massages, like MIND-BLOWINGLY GOOD, I know them hands are magical

BUYING EACH OTHER JEWELLERY, he’s too pretty to not wear jewellery

kissing his freckles BC HES CUTE AND he blushes

kissing his scars (flashback of emo memes) NO, not saying anything about them, just gently pressing your lips on his sensitive skin so he’s not insecure about all of them

reading all sorts of magazines together BC THERES NO TOXIC MASCULINITY IN MY HOUSEHOLD AND MY BOY IS ALLOWED TO DO WHAT HE WANTS YA DUMB— right, anyway

he throws you over his shoulder and then walks around to bother you

butt smacking, that’s it, imagine the possibilities

pretending he’s picking you up at bars (like Claire and Phil from Modern Family 😭)

he’ll throw out his best pick up lines and you have to hold in your laughter at the faces he makes ALSO it works bc that’s your husband

being the best husband when you’re sick

making the yummiest foods and making sure your taking natural vitamins along with medicine

hanging out with you the whole time, not caring that you’re sick even though he’s kind of a germaphobe

whining a lot when he’s sick, but he’s partially just messing with you bc he wasn’t allowed to whine about anything as a kid (I’m right behind you, John)

he’s holding your boobs for comfort LMAO

I feel like he likes to bite, so he bites you a lot for no reason, and then goes about his day

pretending to have accents

more importantly, Dean knows how to speak Spanish, supernatural lied (all that porn and all those novelas and nothing stuck? nah, he’s very good at Spanish)

so he’ll try to seduce you with his Spanish speaking skills (and if you’re Latina/hispanic like me, you think it’s so sexy or it’s just plain cute, idk yet)

playing video games together and being very competitive

he’s very clean and very neat so you never have to tell him to clean up after himself !

he’s very protective of you, but never oversteps bc he knows you can handle yourself

he likes introducing you as his wife

it’s probably not even necessary but he’ll say it very loud and with a gigantic smile and he’ll embarrass you but it’s okay bc it’s Dean

he lies and says he’s your sugar daddy when people comment about the age gap

dude, dude, he’ll tease you a lot like… 🤣 he’ll copy your moans, or repeat stuff you said to him during sex. he’ll tell you very descriptively about how it all went down and the faces you made and the sounds you made.. you know, like in rock and a hard place [09.08]

especially if you’re shy

you wanna strangle him, but you don’t bc he’s the love of your life !

did I do this right? :( doesn’t matter, add some headcannons in the tags or comments 😭 i love husband!dean

taglist

@rominaszh @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #1.4

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megangovier · 5 months ago

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Dad's friend

Comforting! Logan Howlett x Fem reader

Mention of y/n Summary: Logan was staying in your dad's house for the next month til he came back from a business trip. You had just come back from a party, broken hearted and mascara running down your face. Running straight upstairs, past Logan who was sitting on the couch he called out your name but you ignored and slammed the door.

Warnings: 18+ only // heartbroken // cheating // arguments // dilf // friends to lovers // age gap 20s, 40s // praising // pet names // biting // pain kink // sub!Logan -Dom!Logan // tied up // degrading // fdom-fsub // oral (m&f) // mdni

The day before..

A sigh left Logan's lips, getting off the couch he headed upstairs. He was about to knock on your bedroom door, when he heard anger rising in your voice "don't you dare blame me for your actions, you trash can! I was nothing but loyal to you, did everything you asked of me and it still wasn't enough, you cheated!" Ending the call you had thrown your phone against the wall. Logan knocked on your door and gently opened it to find you on the bed, pillow over your face.

"Hi sweetheart, can I come in?" Taking the pillow off your face and throwing it against the bathroom door, you sat up eyes bloodshot and chest heaving you patted on the bed beside you and he sat down next to you, his strong protective arms around your frame. Taking in his vanilla and birchwood cologne a smile appeared on your face, his arms disappearing from your body, the smile went "what happened pretty girl, why are you upset?".

Looking at him, a lump in your throat appeared "well.. I was going out with this guy for a few months and he was all good at the beginning of the relationship but later on there was evidence of him cheating on me with my bestfriend of 15 years". A sad look appeared on his face "I'm so sorry, you deserve better than a trash can anyways". His hands grabbing your cute chubby cheeks, his thumbs wiping away your tears "you don't need boys like that sweetheart, you need someone who'd appreciate all of you".

"I'm done with them, I need someone who knows what they're doing, someone older" a laugh escaped your lips.

Logan had changed his position to lying on your bed, your body between his legs. Chin on his toned stomach looking up at him, his hand moving a strand of hair from your face "you're so beautiful y/n, those pretty eyes of yours". Blush appeared on your face.

The next morning..

Logan's eyes were still closed, yours have been on him for the last hour. Admiring how handsome he looked, the way his chest heaved up and down, the scent of his cologne. Everything about him was beautiful. A smirk appeared on your face, you decided to wake him up a different way this morning. You slowly started to nibble on his clothed cock, moans and guttural growls left his lips "y/n, wha- what are you doing" a shiver ran up his spine. He couldn't believe his best friend's daughter was doing this, if your dad found out Logan would know about it.

"I want to thank you for yesterday, now be a good boy and let me do what I want to you" a whine left Logan's throat. You undid his belt, tied it around his wrists and kissed him passionately, getting back between his legs you continued to tease the head of his shaft. Nibbling and kitten licks "please don't tease darling" taking his cock out your mouth, Logan's jaw clenched "please don't stop, i can-" your nails ran down his sides causing him to moan "pathetic, such a pain slut aren't you, getting off on pain" a laugh erupted from your throat making Logan blush in embrassment.

Taking his cock back into your mouth, you nibbled the shaft once again growls leaving his throat. He wanted to be the one in control, the one between your thighs eating you out like a mad man, he couldn't take it anymore so he somehow untied himself, pinned you down on your back and pulled your legs back. His face was inches away from your dripping wet cunt "not so in control now little one are you?" A smirk appeared on his face. As his tongue slipped between your heated thighs, grabbing them leaving marks behind a moan left your lips.

"who's the pain slut now" a laugh escaped his lips.

@sexy-monster-fucker @pedroscowgirl @jamescowgirl ❤️

#hugh jackman #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan smut #james logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #megangovier22

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pinyeti · 8 months ago

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EPISODE 6: RETURN OF THE JEDI

Is it just me or have they just not explained the Death Star properly?

I cant take Darthy seriously anymore, he’s just a bag of organs

Whats quirrel doing here

OMG ELEPHANT SNAKE IS BACK

Isnt this that old caterpillar from Alice n wonfderlad

WOW LUKE REALLY SUITED UP FOR HIS MESSAGE- DID HE JUST SELL???? GOLDENFACE AN R2-oh right Hans in the carbon - way to go to the dark side Luke, triangular droid trade YOU ARE YOUR FATHERS SON LUKE

So much of Star Wars is just running into the problem with a glowstick and hoping it dies

Wow hansolo has been imprisoned, thrown into garbage, tortured, thrown into carbon, imprisoned AGAIN all cuz he has can’t shut my mouth disease

What even is their relationship with Luke btw, are they his adopted fWOAH WOAH WOAH WHEN DID LUKE TURN INTO A MAN??? Last I saw he was a child who couldn’t get a plane out of a lake AND THEY LEFT THE LAST MOVIE WITH ALL OF THTEM BEING TOGETHER wow the text in the beginning is more important than I thought

No seriously why is Luke dressed like a pastor whats going on

WOAH GOLD BIKINI LIEA - OKAY STORY TIME I USED TO WATCH PRINCESS RAP BATTLES AS A CHILD AND THE ONE I SAW WITH LEIA IN IT SHE SAID “I wore a gold bikini and the whole world lost its shit” ANF NOW I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

Ok yoda we get it you’re 900 no ones talking about your wrinkles anyway with pastor Luke in the room, projecting much?

Is yoda suidicdal???

WDYM LUKE IS REaDY???? HE DIDNT DO ANYTHING TO BE READY EXCEPT FLY FACEFIRST INTO A MILITARY BASE HIS TRAINING ARC IS SO SHIT

Whos the other Skywalker?? lukes not even a Skywalker isnt his name Luke vader where’s skywalkers real son OH darthy’s deadname is skywalker

BABY WONKENOBIII IS BACKCKCKC-OMGWHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WDYM LEIAS LUKES SISTER WDYM HE SUSPECTED THIS AFTER MAKING OUT WITH HER FIFTY BILLION TIMES??? WHAT THE HELL

??? HELLO>>??? WHAT TH EHELL??? WHAT IN THE GAME OF THRONES IS GOING ON??????? How is Leia a princess then?? HahahahaHAHAHA SO YODA KNEW …… ABOUT THEIR LITTLE TRIANGLE

Nice the gang is back together, waiting for chewbakka to be revealed as darthy’s next offspring

YES YES GOLDENFACE GETTING THE RESPECT HE DESEREVEVVES I LOVE GOLDENFACEEE

I cant believe these are the idiots the emperors trying to kill

"yes I could sense you were my brother when my tongue was down your throat"

Oh yes Luke hands himself over- haha darthy sensitive over dead name

Luke youre so stupid- but since jedis cant die is he gonna go to wherever yoda and obi wan is

Lando is growing on me, also squid guy

This movie is gonna end with emperor and Luke dead isnt it

Is the emperor a jedi too how else does he have power or something something Sith

Id make a horrible jedi- im made of hatred

Hansolo my pathetic little idiot

I JUST REALIZED WHO LUKE EP6 REMINDS ME OF - TROY BOLTON

IS HE BEGGING DARTHY TO KILL HIM WTF

You’re telling me this big of an empire cant take down 6 idiots lead by a happy go lucky guy, never heard of this before

OHMYGOSSDDHD. LYKE YOU IDIOT NOW HE KNOWS ABOUT LEIA

Hahahah a hand for a HAND- wait what…. Why does he have a robo hand too whats going on

Luke stop acting like you didnt hear about jedis 5 secs ago

Aw does darthy have a heart among his organs

OHMYGOD DARTHY IS A GOOD GUY????? ????? What A VILLAIN TTURNS GOOD ITS BEEN AGES SINCE I SAW A VILLAIN COME OVER TO THE GOOD SIDE

OMG DARHTY FACE REVEAL

Oh damn hes not as ugly as I thought he’d be

Kinda cute even - bro how did he even get this weak why’s he dying rn

He has such kind eyes

Yeah ok I am so lost I NEED DARTH VADER BACKSTORY RIGH FUCKIN NOW

Is the empire this easy to penetrate? No but they did it with the power of lOVE and FRIENDSHIP

Love lando

YES HAN THATS THE REACTION I HAD AN HOUR AGO ACTUALLY WTF

Yes Luke its so sad your daddy that blew up an entire planet in ONE second without a single thought died IM NOT FORGIVING HIM THIS EASY

No way thats it??? They took down the empire just like that???? What??

Damn no one in this world can dance

OHMYGOD ANAKIN???? HOW CAN HE SEE THEM NOW??? IS IT CUZ HES BETTER AT WEILDING THE FORCE

ok fine anakin is cute

(3/9)

#star wars #luke skywalker #cp2077 #han solo #princess leia #r2d2 #c3po #darth vader #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #star wars review

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ineffablelara · 13 days ago

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I'm aware I'm being extremely annoying and bitchy right now but I'm so bothered by the way some people treat Loki as a delicate little baby instead of the badass, powerful and ancient God he is

Like, I get it, his ending in the show was sad but no, I don't think Loki spends his days crying about his situation, I don't think he's scared and desperate, I don't think he'll be traumatized when he leaves the tree, I don't think he's having the time of his life there either, it's a hard and lonely job but he knows someone's gotta do it, just like he knows he's the best person to do it

He spends s2 trying to explain to Sylvie that she can't just give people free will and walk away because that's not how it works, he knows that if you want to give people freedom you also have to make sure they'll be safe to fully enjoy their freedom, you can't just leave them to fend for themselves when you know full well they're powerless to stop the horrors that may come with their newfound freedom

When he explains to her that they can reform the TVA so they can protect the people living on the timelines she says they would be playing God if they did that but Loki says that they are indeed Gods and walks away frustrated by her lack of understanding of the situation

The more mature Loki we see in the show doesn't view his Godhood as something that puts him above other people, he views it as something that gives him the responsability to take care of those who can't defend themselves, there's no arrogance in his voice when he says that they can protect the new multiverse with a reformed TVA, he doesn't say "I can protect them" he says "we", he's not separating and positioning himself above the TVA workers, he wants to work with them, he genuinely just wants the best for everyone: for the people on the timelines to be safe and for the agents who feel at home in the TVA to keep doing their job

All this to say that Loki doesn't view his fate as a punishment, he's doing what he wanted to do from the beginning, OF COURSE he didn't want it to be like that, he thought he could just stay in the TVA and help them fight the HWR variants by going on misisons and stuff, OF COURSE he wishes he could have a more "ordinary" life (I mean, is it really ordinary when you're living inside an organization where time doesn't pass and constantly traveling through time?)

BUT

We have to keep in mind that Loki isn't a stupid little human like the rest of us, his perception of things is not like ours, we are limited and weak, he wields infinite power and wisdom now, for all we know he can project his mind and consciousness into any timeline he wants and interact with people if he wants, I kinda HATE when I see people writing Loki in fics as if he's this helpless pathetic thing after he leaves Yggdrasil, like, the man can create portals to ANY place he wants to go (let's not forget that he conjured the portal to the citadel while holding the branches and also materialized the stairs that lead to his throne), he can sustain entire countless universes with the touch of his fingers, I promise you he's not the helpless babygirl we all love to call him

I just...

It's so frustrating to see people acting as if Loki is just a random scared human who was tossed in the center of the multiverse tree instead of being the God who fucking created it, I think that's bc some people relate to him and they kinda start forgetting who he actually is, maybe it's just another way to woobify him but idk, it realy annoys me

Anyway, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I really needed to get this off my chest. I’m not saying that Loki doesn’t feel sad at times or that he doesn’t miss his friends—because I absolutely believe he does. I just think that, deep down, he’s proud of himself for being able to take care of everyone. He understands that it’s his responsibility as a God, and he accepts it without trying to make things easier for himself, unlike HWR. After all, that’s the difference between a human playing god and an actual God fulfilling his role as a protector of people in need.

#loki #loki season 2 #loki meta #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki season two #to quote comic!Loki #Maybe YOU can't do this #don't project your insecurities onto me

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billiethepumpkin · 1 year ago

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My Name: Dabi

Kinktober Day 2

Warning: Rated X. This content is intended for those aged 18 years or older. If you are a minor, please do not interact.

Contains: Alcohol/drunkenness. Minor injury. Grinding. Teasing. Hickeys. Nipple play. Fingering. Edging, both intentional and accidental. Vaginal sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Slightly aggressive sex. Birthdays. Feelings of self-hatred.

Author's Note: I know that Dabi is an adult, but I'm still an old fuck :)

Also, this is a repost! I wrote this a while, and I loved it. So here it is again.

It had been several days since you had been to Dabi’s apartment. He had asked you to get several things for him, seeing as he can’t be seen in public. He couldn’t put his freedom on the line, just for groceries. And you were happy to oblige, seeing as you’d be going to his house anyway at some point or another. You had been there dozens of times before, maybe even hundreds. It was dark. There was barely any furniture; just whatever Dabi could find in the dump at night, along with one singular small television that you managed to buy him for your most recent Christmas together.

When you got to his apartment, he cracked the door open slowly, carefully, until he saw that it was you. He was so drunk you could smell the alcohol as soon as the door to his apartment swung open. He was shirtless, his hair quite a bit messier than usual. If you hadn't been in love with him, you might've said he looked pathetic. You wondered how much he had drank, but the empty bottle of some sort of alcohol sitting on the coffee table was a dead giveaway. It was a surprise to you. Dabi knew you were coming over. You had this planned for a little over a week. You’d planned to bring him groceries right after you got your weekly paycheck, and that was today. “-ey there, pretty girl,” he slurred, leaning in the doorway for a moment. Worried, you pushed past him with your paper bags of groceries, almost completely ignoring his words.

As you put away the groceries, you take a minute to ponder. Why would he be like this? What had gotten into him? You knew Dabi was a drinker. After what hell he’s been through, he needed a vice, a coping mechanism. And you couldn’t argue that being drunk did help the pain sometimes. But why today, when he knew you’d be here?

Before Dabi had downed his second double shot of whiskey, he had been sulking. Sulking over the anniversary of his birth–today. He was reminiscing on the previous birthdays he had celebrated when he lived with the rest of his family. He remembered the way Natsuo always tried to make a big deal of it. But it never mattered. It never mattered because his father never even so much as glanced in Dabi’s direction–not even on his own son’s birthday. He never told anyone that his birthday was today. And even after almost a year of knowing each other, you still didn’t know Dabi’s birthday.

You put the groceries away, taking your time to organize them as best you could, before you turned to your boyfriend. He was leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, his head leaning completely against the wall. When you turned to him, he was actually pouting. Yes, Dabi, the man who had survived years of domestic abuse, an entire forest fire, and dozens of missions with the League of Villains, was pouting.

You huffed a small laugh before stepping towards him, his back now against the wall, looking down at you. “What’s wrong?” you cooed up at him with a soft smile.

“You hav’n’t giv’n me ‘ny att’ntion,” he slurred. “Doesn’ y’r boyfr’nd deserve s’me love on ‘is birthday?” He let it slip.

And he really didn’t even mean to. He didn’t realize he even said it out loud until your eyes widened with worry, and you asked, “It’s your birthday?!” Before Dabi could even answer, your shoulders sank with sadness. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “I had no idea. How can I make it up to you? You know what? How about I make you dinner, hm?”

Dabi slowly, tiredly shook his head. “Don’ w’rry about it,” he whined, his eyes drooping and his hands resting on your hips.

“Come on,” you said. “You have to eat something. It’ll help you sober up. How about I order something?” Before Dabi could even think of a response, you were already calling the takeout place you had shown him on your first date and ordering his favorite food for him. Fuck, why did you have to be so… sweet? And caring? Dabi was trying to pretend it wasn’t his birthday. He didn’t need you going and ruining it.

He didn’t know what to say. You looked so sad, feeling like you had failed as a girlfriend, forgetting his birthday and trying to make it up to him. He couldn’t tell you yet. Dabi needed you to feel better first. Damn, how did he end up comforting you? Oh well, he thought. He couldn't be angry at you for just caring so much. Even if it was ruining his plans of sulking.

Dinner came, and you ate together, watching a TV show on your Netflix account. When your food containers were discarded on the table in front of you, he started to get dizzy from the alcohol, and he laid his head on your shoulder.

“Why’d y’ do all that?” he slurred, his eyes threatening to fall closed.

Your eyebrows angled in worry and guilt. “Well… I just wanted…” you began, “to make your birthday special. I forgot all about it, and I didn’t even get you anything–”

“Stop,” he said, waving his hand. “I’s not y’r fault. I didn’ tell you.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “Why not?” You treaded carefully. You worried that too many questions might cross some boundaries, that he might have done it on purpose.

“I’s not a big deal, m’kay?” he mumbled.

You looked at the floor instead of at him. You waited for some kind of real answer, but after several minutes, it was clear you weren’t going to get one. You prodded further. “It’s just that–”

“I’s none ‘f y’r bus’ness,” he groaned, his brows pinching together. He lifted his head, the room spinning slightly. He stood up, refusing to talk about anything. But as soon as he was lifted to his feet, he lost his balance, falling face-first into the corner of the coffee table. You gasped, and you crouched next to your boyfriend, a small cut just above his eyebrow.

“You okay?” you asked, seeing the cut and brushing the dyed dark hair out of the way. He didn’t say anything back. You offered him your hand, and he reluctantly took it, slowly standing up and moving to the couch. You went to his bathroom and found the first-aid kit–the one you forced him to keep in his apartment for times when one of you was being an idiot. You brought back an alcohol wipe and a bandage. You sat straddling one of his legs with the flashlight of your phone illuminating the space. Once he was all patched up, his eyes remained closed as his head rested on the couch cushions behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked in a whisper.

Dabi shook his head. “Jus’ don’ like my birthday,” he answered, looking down, his gaze refusing to meet yours. And suddenly it all clicked. He didn’t have to say anything else. You were being an idiot. Months ago, he told you all about his father, and you were just now putting all the pieces together. Dabi’s birthday was a not-so-gentle reminder of who he was supposed to be and who he was not. And for that he refused to forgive himself.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your hands resting on the space between his neck and his shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, now gently lifting his chin so that his lips met yours. You kissed him over and over again, one turning into hundreds. The difference in feeling between his upper and lower lip was vast. The top was soft, smooth. The bottom would have felt chapped if you didn’t know any better. His rough hands, outlined with cold staples, slid under your dress and rested on your plush thighs. You inhaled sharply at the sensation of metal against your skin.

He pulled away, and you looked down at him with a longing in your eyes. “You okay?” he asked as your skin adjusted to him. You nodded, and you desperately pulled him back into your kiss. His hands ventured further up your legs, eventually coming to rest on your hips, where the lace waistband of your panties dipped into your flesh. Dabi’s fingers splayed against your skin, the different textures melting into your flesh and making you shiver. He fondled the waistband of your panties, making you involuntarily squirm against him. The friction of his clothed leg against you was enough to egg you on. You grinded your clothed sex against him one more time, and he grinned into your lips. His right hand trailed the outline of your panties against your thigh, and eventually rubbed his thumb against your clit on the outside of your underwear. You sighed into his lips, impatiently waiting for more, wondering what would be “too forward.”

You laced your fingers into his long black hair, gently caressing the back of his head. Dabi let his head fall back, leaving his neck open for you to take between your lips. You pulled away long enough for Dabi to pull his shirt over his head. Due to Dabi’s burns, his neck was much less sensitive than the rest of his body. He could barely even feel the contact your lips were making with his neck. You knew this. You moved to his chest, just below the staples, and Dabi sighed into your touch. He could barely even think straight. He had never remembered a time when someone treated him like you treated him, when someone was as thoughtful and as considerate as you. He could only sit back and watch as you gently sucked a piece of his flesh into your pretty mouth and swiped your tongue over it. He’d never been given a hickey before. Most people were too scared to touch his neck. But here you were, finding a way and making it enjoyable for him.

“Fuck~” he groaned as you let go of his flesh with a pop. “I love you so goddamn much.” He lifted your face and slotted your lips into his. His right hand remained on your still-clothed pussy, but his left hand moved to unhook your bra. He struggled for a moment, trying to concentrate on everything at once, but you helped out by pulling your dress over your head, unhooking it yourself, and tossing your bra to the floor. Dabi had seen you naked plenty of times before. Hell, you had fucked on the first date. But seeing you now through his drunken lens, an even mixture of love and lust behind your eyes, made his cock twitch. He wanted to show you exactly how much he loved you the best way he could.

He took your nipple, hardened against the cool air of his apartment, between his lips. You let your head fall back, hair ghosting against your back. You let out a whine as his tongue swiped over your breast, his thumb gently brushing against your sex through the lace of your panties. Soon, you felt his soft fingertips push your panties into a thin line to the left of your pussy. Now, his thumb brushed against your bare clit, pulling another whine from your lips, longer this time with enough desire to make a saint blush. Pleased, Dabi dipped two of his fingers between your folds and played in your arousal for a moment, thoroughly coating his fingers in your slick, relishing in your scent and desperate to pull more sighs and whines from your love-swollen lips.

Dabi’s lips pulled away from your tit to look up at you as two of his long fingers slipped past your entrance. Your mouth dropped into a pretty O shape, mimicking a moan as Dabi’s drunken gaze met your lustful one. You let the shaky moan escape your lungs as his palm rested against your clit and his fingers curled inside you. Dabi’s lips were just centimeters from your own. Dabi closed the gap, slotting his lips into yours and beginning to move his fingers inside you. Your lack of sounds, however, led Dabi to believe this wasn’t enough. He picked you up and switched spots with you, laying you down on the couch with your legs still spread. He quickly pushed his fingers back into you, curling them again to hear you moan, louder this time from the new position.

Dabi began to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, the palm of his large hand pushing against your clit with each thrust of his wrist. He absent-mindedly palmed the growing bulge in his jeans, too focused on your pretty noises to realize that he could fully stroke himself. “Dabi~” you whined, “you’re gonna make me cum!” Dabi groaned at the name. He didn’t know it bothered him until right now. He’d have to think about it later, the way that name made him feel, especially coming from the lips of his girl, someone he was supposed to love. He’d think about it later.

“Tha’s th’ point,” he growled, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. “Cum f’ me, sweet girl.”

It was the nickname. The nickname had you flying over the edge, the rope of pleasure snapping in the pit of your stomach. Your orgasm gushed over Dabi’s fingers and dripped down your ass cheeks, your moans tumbling over your tongue like dice.

Without a moment to rest, Dabi unzipped his jeans, his dick aching to be set free from their denim and polyester prison, desperate to be buried inside you. He slapped the tip of his cock against you several times, sliding himself between your folds and coating himself in the liquid of your orgasm. When he rested his head against your entrance, your eyes widened. “Too much,” you whined. “D-dab-bi, I c-can’t–”

“Don’ call me that ‘nymore,” he commanded, looking you dead in the eyes. It wasn’t him being bratty or demanding or even the “dom.” The sentence came out of nowhere, without Dabi even thinking. The small amount of worry in your eyes made Dabi question his own words. He swallowed hard, the look in his eyes changing from fiery to soft in a matter of seconds, trying to silently assure you he wasn’t angry.

You were panting and shaking, not-so-patiently awaiting the stretch of his cock against your walls. “W-what do I call-all you the-en?” you stuttered, eyes flashing between his hips and his eyes.

“My name,” he answered, “is Touya.” With no time for you to respond, Dabi–rather, Touya–slammed his entire length inside your waiting cunt. You gasped as his hips collided with yours. Touya’s movements stopped to soothe you, as you whimpered and whined underneath him against the stretch of his member. He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, your thighs stretching to allow Touya as close to you as possible. He rested his forehead against yours as he pulled out of you slowly. His right hand came to caress your cheek. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “Di’n’t mean t’ scare you.”

You nodded, not quite able to come up with the words to respond. Slowly, methodically, he thrusted into you, his tip kissing your cervix as you let out a soft whine. Dabi let his eyes close as he listened, continuing to move his hips as slowly as possible, worried he might scare you again. “T-Touya,” you stammered. His icy blue eyes opened to find you, staring up at him with as much love as you could muster. Before that moment, Touya hated the person he was supposed to be. With every small reminder, he hated himself a little more for not living up to be that person. But when those syllables came from your lips, he felt loved. He felt wanted. He felt needed. He felt like he was the person he was always meant to be. “N-need more,” you pleaded.

He thrusted in and out of you again, with a little more force and slightly more speed. You let out a loud sigh. Touya’s sobriety was ruined–he got drunk on your moans, your scent, the way your pretty pussy gripped his dick like a vice. “R’lax, pretty girl,” he groaned, nearly through his teeth. “If y’ clamp d’wn on me like that, ‘m gonna cum already.” He slowed, almost to a stop, his cock resting inside you at the hilt, reaching deep inside you. With his left hand, Touya caressed your waist, your hips, anything he could reach. He wanted to be impossibly closer to you. He thrusted into you once again, once he was sure he wasn’t going to bust on the spot.

You did your best to relax, taking long breaths that exhaled in the form of moans and cries. “Oh, you pretty little thing,” Touya groaned, becoming restless. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“‘M yours, Touya,” you moaned in response. “I’m all yours.” The sound of his name–his true name–escaping your lips left him gasping for air.

“Promise?” he asked, looking you in the eyes with the same intensity as before. His thrusting slowed, pulling you away from another orgasm. You sighed, grieving the loss of the previously incoming pleasure. “Promise you’re mine?” At first you thought this was his way of dominating you, like maybe he was going to edge you until he got what he wanted. But when you looked deeper into his diamond eyes, you saw actual fear. Now that you’d said his name, he was terrified. Terrified that he’d lose you. Terrified that, after you, nobody would ever say his name the way you did. Not with pity. Not with disappointment. Not with anger. But with as much love as could be packed into one five-letter-word.

“I promise, Touya,” you whispered. Upon the promise, Touya began to thrust into you with such fury and passion that your body became overwhelmed. Your thoughts were no longer coherent. The only sensation you could feel was Touya entering and leaving your sex as quickly as he possibly could.

Within a minute, he felt your hole pulsing around him. Touya relished the feeling of you. The pressure of your pussy around his cock made him bust unexpectedly. All of the sudden, he was emptying himself into you, the ultimate sign that you were, in fact, his. He continued thrusting, his cock aching from the overstimulation. But he needed you to cum. He was desperate for you to cry out his name again, to be the one to make you feel oh-so-much. He stood up, thrusting into you at a new angle. His thumb swiped over your soaked clit, pulling more pleasure out of you. “Come on, pretty girl,” he groaned. “I wanna feel you cum on me, wanna make you feel s’good.”

Touya’s words washed over you, only adding to the pleasure. You played with your own pebbled nipples, desperate for the orgasm you’d been denied twice now. With every single thrust a moan came tumbling from your tongue. And with a few final thrusts, Touya was emptying himself into you again. The pressure of his cum filling you up made you fall over that final edge into bliss. You cried out, “Touya~!” as your cunt clenched around him with your orgasm.

Touya let out a sigh as you came down from your high. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, his length staying inside of you for a moment. As he slowly slid out, you sighed at the loss of contact. He picked you up and switched spots with you, resting you on his lap one more time. Both of you were out of breath, your bare chests pressed against each other.

Touya’s fingers locked behind your back, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. The soft fingers on his left hand ghosted over your back, creating goosebumps on your skin. You smiled into his neck. “I love you,” you said. “Do you know that?” You sat up to look at him, your hands resting on his face. “I love you so damn much.”

Touya smiled up at you gently, the sleep beginning to wash over his body. “I love you, too,” he whispered, your forehead resting against his before you pressed a long, loving kiss into his lips. He suddenly stood up, and you let out a gasp as he picked you up. “Let’s get to bed,” he said, carrying you all the way to his bed, the mattress and box spring on the floor. When he finally rested on the mattress next to you, he covered both of you with his blankets and pulled your head to rest on his chest. You pressed feather-light kisses onto his burnt skin every once in a while. “Y’really wanna be w’th me f’rever?” he slurred, his body still processing the alcohol.

You huffed in a small laugh. “As long as you want me to stay,” you answered, never even picking your head up. You draped your arm over him and rested your hand on the opposite side of his waist.

“So,” he said, “forever, then.” It was halfway a smartass joke, halfway a correction.

You laughed again. “Yeah,” you answered. “Forever.”

This work was written by Abigail "Billie" Rothenberger. Please do not copy this work on Tumblr or any other platform.

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royalphantompain · 1 month ago

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Man....... That's craaaazyyyy innit, mate. This scene is bonkers........

Like holy shit-

In the second episode, Pomni just looked so miserable for the first half of the episode.

Sopping wet cat of a woman

I mean, can you really blame her? After realizing that, basically, her old life is gone, and this is her new home now. Forever!!!! Yippie!!!! She had to come to terms with it yesterday. This honestly just sort of feels like she is dissociating.

But then, underneath the map, where Gummigoo demands to know what she is, and after he finds out the truth.

I think it's safe to say she is still not doing too well, but she sees this NPC in distress and still just feels wrong letting him stay that way. She knows he's fake but still goes to him.

Now, I also kind of like to interpret in a way that she can sort of relate to him finding out everything is not real. While she is a real person, does her life actually matter at this point? Is she even who she was when she was a human? She may have memories of her past like but she has a new face and a new name, and she can never go back to the real world, but that may be me reaching and maybe in the end she was only saying she related to feeling like nothing, and I just ranted about nothing and I am not normal.

Regradless, ever since she came here, this is the first person she actually has a real conversation with and actually confides in, and she offers him to stay in the circus with.

I mean, uhh, while that didn't go, uhhhhh, quite as planned, erm, awkwaaaaaard..... I do think this is a very important moment for Pomni and her development. Even though in the end, she did realize the other humans would care about her, the first person she connected with was this gelatin NPC, so he was still important to her, and probably meant a lot.

I absolutely adore episode 3 a lot, but I don't think it really adds anything here, so moving on.

God, she is such a pathetic fucking loser. She is so cringe and such a failure. I love her more than anything.

All of a sudden, someone who she considered a friend is now back after she aww him literally explode into confetti, but he just goes up to her and orders from her like it was nothing. How excatly do you react to that? Like she wanted to ask that, but do you just say, "Hey, remember that time I told you to come back home with me, but since you aren't real, I literally accidentally killed you?" But also, in his point of view, this stranger just comes up to him and can't even form a coherent sentence, and crawls on the floor, like huh???? Girl???? What is wrong with you???

LOOK JUST HOW UNCOMFORTABLE HE IS BECAUSE OF HER- LIKE IT IS GENUINELY SO SAD TO SEE POMNI TRYING TO BE BY SOMEONE SHE CONSIDERED A FRIEND BUT HE JUST FEELS UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND THIS WEIRD LITTLE JESTER- YOU CANNOT BLAME HIM FOR FEELING THIS WAY- AND SHE CAN SEE IT-

Before he opens the door, he still looks uncomfortable and just leaves her there, and he can not understand why she was acting this way.

Honestly it's this part that killed me the most.

That is not her friend. It's just a stranger using the same model. It isn't the Gummigoo she knew and had an important moment with.

This scene honestly was so cringey but in a way that was genuinely more sad than anything. I love it.

ANYWAY!!!!! I love this show, and I absolutely would love to spill my thoughts on absolutely everything in this new episode besides my beloved pathetic wet cat jester, but it's 2 AM, and I have to go to work at a job where sometimes I would rather eat glass and laundry detergent :']

#ghost's pain #tadc #The Amazing Digital Circus #Pomni #tadc spoilers #Gummigoo

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weebsinstash · 1 year ago

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Now that I saw that doodle Vox made again, I'm just wondering how tf he knew Alastor has hooves

Also noticed that he was a lil fixated on Al's ass in that same doodle so there's that :>

I literally searched the Hazbin wiki for the source and couldn't find it but I've seen multiple people posting some screenshot of some website that says, Velvette previously stated Vox had an Alastor body pillow, and I don't know if that's an old Voxtagram post or more recent but it's been living in my head rent free ever since

Like there have been so many Viv streams and q&a's that have mildly spoiled things or mentioned facts that have since become non canon so I'm not sure what to listen to anymore but dude, reading the wiki of all the amalgamated facts is A TRIP. Vox is Actually Totally Correct: despite Alastor having his gentlemanly persona and some weird "serial killer moral code, like dexter", he canonically has awful oral hygiene and both Vivzie and... Fautisse? Have mentioned this. His demon form has black gums. Vivzie said he "probably doesn't prioritize oral hygiene" and also probably wasn't a cannibal in life so that's literally a new hobby he picked up in death so also um. THE SECOND THIS MAN HAD FREE REIGN AND THERE WAS NO RULE OF LAW OR CONSEQUENCES HE DECIDED TO START EATING PEOPLE SO LET THAT SINK IN.

You start reading Alastor's wiki page and it makes it pretty clear he's like DERANGED, hypocritical, he's like borderline a megalomaniac? It's all hidden behind this, persona, this wall he puts up, his well put together demeanor that allegedly never cracks, but underneath his showmanship he's a haughty, insecure, judgy, gossipy, genuine FREAK who responds with insults and violence whenever he can who relishes in trolling people and scaring them, literally enjoys knowing when he's making people uncomfortable

I have so many conflicting feelings but like PRETTY SURE HIS VERSE IN THE FINALE WAS A VILLAIN SONG, HE'S LITERALLY SINGING ABOUT BEING PISSED AND WANTING TO RETALIATE BECAUSE HE'S BEING FORCED TO DO STUFF HE DOESN'T WANT TO

THUS

I AM CONVINCED VOX IS JUST A BOTTOM AND A SLUT WHO THINKS ALASTOR IS JUST REALLY COOL AND HAS A ONE SIDED PATHETIC BOY CRUSH

Bro the sound I fucking made when his wiki trivia says he's been described as "painfully white, like phlegm in the back of your throat white" NO DONT DO MY TV MAN LIKE THIS 😭🤣

Anyways, you've probably seen the posts but for someone who claims to be so hip and modern, Vox goes out of his way to dress similarly to Alastor. The coat with lapels in the front and a tail in the back, a bow tie with a cravat, cuffed sleeves, intentionally or not the color contrast of Vox's hands resembles Alastor's and Vox CAN customize his body...

He's just. I just completely forget sometimes that Alastor literally called him OLD PAL in episode 3 and yes he was obviously saying it to talk down to him but like ALASTOR DID ACKNOWLEDGE HISTORY BETWEEN THEM, and also oh wait what's this, Vivzie has confirmed Vox and the Vees are major antagonists of Season 2 and that Vox and Alastor's history is going to be expanded upon so.... radiostatic shippers stay winning ha ha

I read a post that I meant to reblog that was something like "Vox is actually an incredibly cunning charismatic manipulative businessman who is a legitimate threat and we see this for all of 5 minutes and the second Alastor is mentioned he starts completely coming apart" and it's SO TRUE, he can be ur angel or ur devil. He's a legitimately OP threat and he's also A PATHETIC SAD FAILHUSBAND. Give me Vox who's efficiently marketing more hypnosis equipment to substantially grow his own wealth and manipulating his shareholders and then he's going back to his computer room with some popcorn and kicking his little feeties as he watches his darling and Alastor on like 30 different monitors. Give me Vox who can know the INSTANT someone is trying to go behind his back and double cross him because he has mass surveillance all over the city and he's using his endless resources to develop high end 3d printers to make posable figures of his crush and Alastor.

Give me Vox who loses his cool and insults you to your face and you two get into a huge argument and maybe Velvette and Valentino lash out at you in defense of him and he's going to his room and crying from frustration into his body pillows totally not plural, totally not ones of you and Alastor and calling himself a stupid idiot because he hurt your feelings and then spends the next like week SUFFOCATINGLY showing up almost every single place you are and embarrassing himself as he tries to bond with you and prove to you what CLEARLY AWESOME boyfriend material he is

#yandere x reader #yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #sinprompts #hh

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gremlinmodetweeker · 4 months ago

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A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

So this is the first official Ghost story on my blog. I know, I know, it's been a long time writing and I've not written something for the guy, but it's really just because I get so worried about writing him poorly.

I know he's a big military guy who hates having emotions and kills any and all kindness in his heart, but I also really like the idea of him exploring the concept of healing from his trauma? I dunno, I just thought about it.

Also, like König, I can't imagine Ghost keeping normal pets. Originally I had him get a spider, but then I read over his backstory again and it made more sense for him to get a venomous snake. I think it's a major step to overcoming his trauma. By the way! Big trigger warning, this is about a snake! This entire fic centres around a snake!

Anyways, I had some fun writing this but it made me super sad.

TW: Snake, discussion of past abuse, emotional trauma, child abuse (referenced), emotional disregulation

Wordcount: 1.7k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

Simon locked eyes with the little black and yellow creature housed deep within its cave. It was a small thing, barely hatched from its egg it looked like. The length of a ruler at most. It was a light thing, covered in fine scales along its supple body. This thing was venomous, yes, but it couldn’t do any real damage. It was a threat maybe to a mouse, but a man such as himself wouldn't fall to such weak poison. Swelling, pain, nausea, yes. But death? Not quite.

And yet, his heart quickened within his chest. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow. It had been so long since he’d seen one of these beasts, and yet the same fear from back then wormed its way inside him now.

“Hungry?” Simon’s voice was particularly gravelly, roughened by sleep deprivation and lack of use.

The creature made no move. He’d be surprised if the thing even heard him. Did it even have ears? He’d have to ask the breeder later.

“Been a long time since I’ve seen one of yer kind before,” he admitted. He didn’t quite know why, but it felt somewhat soothing to speak to the thing.

“I killed the last one of ye that I saw. Crushed the fucker right under my boot, I did.”

It didn’t seem to scare the beast off. He wondered if it really was more afraid of him than he was of it. He hoped that was true. He didn’t want to admit that the fear still wriggled under his skin.

“He wasn’t anything like what my dad ‘ad,” Simon closed his eyes as the oppressive memories washed over him, “that one was a right bastard. Bigger than anything I’ve seen ever since. Shoved it right in my face, he did. Wouldn’t let me go till I kissed it right on the lips. If it bit me, I wouldn’t be standin’ ‘ere. But you,” Simon opened his eyes, dark eyes matching two glassy eyes of inky black, “you’re nothing. You're pathetic. You’re… You're so small.”

Simon turned back to the breeder.

Finally, the creature came to its senses and slithered back further into its burrow. So sleek and streamlined, and yet so slow to move. It was afraid of him, that Simon decided the moment he noticed that despite backing away, it didn’t dare look elsewhere.

“How much for this one?” he asked as he pointed at the plastic cube.

“That one?” the woman blinked and looked at what he was pointing at, “the female or the male?”

“The female,” Simon clarified.

“Oh she’s pretty, isn’t she?” the woman adjusted her glasses as she slid behind the plastic cube, “poor girl’s probably pretty scared being out here.” She didn’t mention how terrifying Simon was in his dark clothing, rough fabric stretched tight across his broad frame. He was used to scaring people by this point. Sometimes, like now, he wished he wasn’t.

“How do you pronounce that?” Simon pointed at the name that had been scrawled in blue ballpoint pen on a blank sticker.

“Boida dendrophila,” the woman replied, “she’s pretty young, but she’ll get big soon enough.”

“She’s one of them big ones, yeah?” Simon asked aloofly.

“You bet your arse,” the woman grinned, “she’ll be big soon enough. Don’t know much about ‘em?”

“Oh no,” Simon leaned down to take a better look at the little beast, “I’ve been doing my reading.”

“You got a big enough enclosure for her?” the woman quizzed him.

“Sure do,” Simon hummed, “I built her an enclosure myself. It’s nearly as tall as me, long too. Got some nice branches for her to climb and all that..”

“Wow that’s a lot of space. You sure that’s not too much?” the woman frowned.

“She won’t be in there for a bit, I’ve got something for while she’s small,” Simon reasoned.

What a stupid question.

“Oh well that’s fine,” the woman broke out into another smile, “but yeah she’s eating mostly baby mice, an adult once in a while. You know she’ll be eating bigger things when she’s full grown, right? You can handle that?”

“I think I’ll be quite alright,” Simon mused, “have to admit, she’s a right beauty.”

“She really is, isn’t she?” the woman gushed, “I’ve been raising her since she was just hatched. But now? Well, normally I sell them off a bit sooner, but she grew on me. Unfortunately, the husband isn’t too fond of her and wants her to be moved on.”

“Why’s that?” Simon looked at the woman from behind his sunglasses.

“Oh he got bit when she was the length of a pencil,” the woman laughed, “he’s held it against her ever since!”

“Heard her kind can get pretty feisty,” Simon commented as he looked back at the spider.

“They can get a bit aggressive, I won't lie to you. A bit territorial, too,” the woman explained carefully so as not to scare off the only interested customer she had all weekend.

“Real fast,” Simon continued on, “with nasty bites.”

“Sounds like you’ve done your reading,” the woman laughed uncomfortably.

“Course,” Simon refrained from rolling his eyes, “so how much is she? The sticker’s ripped.”

“She’s on sale, actually,” the woman grinned, “only a couple hundred quid.”

“That much, eh?” Simon straightened up to tower over the slender woman.

“Normally she could be anywhere up to four hundred,” the woman fought back against the subtle threat of intimidation.

“Well then,” Simon looked down at the cube, “looks like I got a good deal then.”

“You won’t go stompin’ on her, will you?” the woman furrowed her brows.

“No ma’am, that was just what I had to do when I went out to the Middle East,” Simon chuckled humorlessly, “I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ this here little lady.”

The woman grinned as she counted her bills, Simon smiled just slightly as he picked up the container and brought it back to his car.

When he got home, he carefully moved the little creature into the glass enclosure of dirt, leaf litter and cork bark. He put it back in its place on his shelf and smiled.

“Dendrophila, eh?” he chuckled, “how ‘bout Ophelia? That’s a cute lil name for ya.”

The creature only burrowed away under the cork bark, eager to get out of sight of the frightening giant before her. He didn’t blame the little thing, he’d be terrified of himself if he was a younger man.

Once, he’d hardened himself into an unstoppable thing, a monster of a man. He had formed his shell through cruel lashings the world had lavished upon him. He took ablutions in raining blood. He was festering sickness or silver sin. He was what he despised in the world, the monster he tried to protect his own family from. When his brothers in arms welcomed each other warmly, they regarded him as a feral dog to be kept at a distance, chained in the backyard, out in the rain.

In Simon’s heart there was no room for love. He was not a man forged in kindness and love. He was the unfortunate son of Mr. Riley, cursed from birth to be raised in the muck and mire of human atrocities. He had been calloused by the time he was nine, and by the time he joined the military even the recruiting officers were afraid of him. He was too cruel, too strict, too much for anyone to handle. He could brute-force his way through life, but only for so long.

Even monsters had hearts. This was the unfortunate fact that Simon had learned far too late in life. He hated himself for how he wallowed in his loneliness. He thought his team would be enough, but there was a despicable part that still resided deep within him. He could offer his rotten sort of love to his teammates, but he could never care for them like he needed to. There was a part of him that had been stunted since childhood, and far too late it breached his skin to scream into his ears, begging him to please just notice me, notice me and don't let me die here inside of you.

He didn’t want to, but he spoke to a therapist. It was Price's advice after he'd broken down with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a revolver in the other. Price promised to never say a word as he unwound his lieutenant's fingers from the trigger.

A week later he'd arrived at a small office. They’d been cowed by him at first. Everyone was, but something about frightening the one person he wanted to be helped by hurt a part of Simon he wished to rip from his chest. Once he would have laughed, but in that office, he could only hurt. No tears fell, but his walls did and he was able to speak openly for the first time in his entire life without the help of a bottle of jack and a pair of dice. It felt wrong. He hated it, but he learned.

His therapist told him that to help rid himself of this festering parasite of an emotion, he should try to nurture the damned thing. Simon had laughed in the man’s face. He then told him to go to Hell. The man had learned not to flinch in the face of a predator, and so pushed forth. He said that to grow, Simon could try getting a cat or a dog. Something he could raise with the love he never had been given as a boy.

He said that he needed something to love or else he'd never be able to heal. Simon scoffed and left the room, but not before booking another appointment. The smug look on his therapist’s face disgusted him. He turned quickly and left.

So maybe it was out of spite that he bought Ophelia, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed the little creature. He needed something to love, and so he did. He loved the Ophelia with all his heart. He nurtured her and cared for her as best he could.

Months passed, and he started to handle Ophelia. She hissed, she scurried away, she did everything to get away from Simon’s touch. He figured that if he had to face himself, he’d do much the same. He wasn’t a creature born of love and compassion. He was death, in face and in heart, but each time he brought Ohpelia’s container out and changed her water, when she ate from his tongs, he could feel his rotten heart beating within his chest. It made him smile despite himself.

He was not a creature of love, and yet it was love he felt when Ophelia tentatively reached out and slithered up his hand. When he raised her up, ever so gently, he couldn’t help but cry.

How cruel was the world that a boy, born from street gutters and raised by heavy hands, would only ever feel love for the first time in a dingy London flat on his thirty-first birthday, alone save for the venomous snake in his hands?

Stories

Ghost Dump

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myddle · 5 months ago

Text

Okay Uzi, lets start Murdering, some Drones

The finale of Murder Drones has come and gone, this show has successfully buried it's way into my cerebral cortex, and I will now think about it until I die

Anyway, lets speculate on what the fuck just happened in Episode 8 (And Episode 7 a bit too I guess)

Warning: Biggest Post Yet, Spoilers, Opinions

I Was Wrong About The Admin Thing, And I'm Okay With That

Last time I did a post like this, I speculated that Uzi's Administrator status would be the key to victory against the Absolute Solver. In truth, it was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it lore point, which makes sense in hindsight, because the whole Admin thing was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it lore point to begin with. This kind of environmental storytelling is good to put in a text, of course, but casual viewers need to be able to follow the plot without it. Truthfully, this is actually an area where the show usually stumbles a little; if there's one criticism I have for Murder Drones, it's that it show-don't-tells a little too hard sometimes. Luckily, this show is good enough for me to want to excuse it's flaws by any means neccessary! FOR EXAMPLE,

Khan Doorman: Mischaracterised, Or Traumatised?

So, Khan was kind of acting a little too badass at the end there, huh? This drone was a delusional door maniac at the start of the series, but now he's this stoic badass with a goofy side? Huhwhat? Explain THAT, Smart Genius!

How about I do? Call it a theory, but I think that THIS, is the real Khan, and the dingus we saw at the start of the series was a broken shadow of him.

Khan was a respected man, seeming leader of the Worker Defense Force, front of the line in finding Nori and Yeva just after the Core Collapse, and say what you will, he can build a good door.

And then tragedy strikes. The Dissassembly Drones strike, and while the WDF fends them off, they are not without casualty. Nori is devoured by nanite acid, and Khan beats her head in to end her suffering. The worst has happened.

While Nori's heart sneaks away to go make the plot happen, Khan spirals. His efforts to fight the DD scourge have failed, so he turns to doors. He doubles, triples down, becomes obsessed with the only thing that hasn't failed him. His daughter still wants to take the fight to the enemy, but Khan rejects the thought so hard, he rejects Uzi with it, hence his "doors>uzi" bullshit in the first episode (for the record, I'm not justifying it, I'm just explaining it, he was still a piece of shit for this).

By the time "Pilot" rolls around, Khan has been in a door-obsessed fugue state for... maybe years, I don't think we ever find out how long ago Nori's "death" was. But by now, he's barely functional; Uzi's second excuse to go outside literally only worked because it was door themed. His fear and delusion almost kill his only remaining family.

But as the events of the show go on, Khan is shook out of routine, and his stupor begins to fall away. In "Heartbeat", he defends his daughter's eccentricities. In "The Promening", he clumsily attempts to be part of Uzi's life again, and watches her build an alliance with N and V. In "Cabin Fever", he opens up to Uzi, revealing the darkness that haunts him and admitting to his mistakes. By "Mass Destruction" his mind has mostly cleared, and while he's still a door-loving goofball, he trusts his daughter, knows what he needs to do, and is ready to kick some Solver ass.

Wow, turns out I had a lot to say about Khan friggin' Doorman, do excuse me. Alright, onto the actual finale, now.

And Now, A Summarisation Of My Thoughts On "Nuzi"

yes

TradJedy: A Bootlicker To The End

I've seen some people are unsatisfied with J's villanous and, lets be honest, kinda pathetic role in the finale, but as sad as it is, I think it was true to her character. J is, above all, two things: Tessa's closest, favourite drone, and a corporate underling for some reason. Cyn wearing Tessa's skin was no doubt the most demoralising for J; Tessa is dead, the killer is pantomiming the life she never had, and you can't stop her. Plus, J likely knows better than anyone just how powerful the Solver is, how futile resisting it's conquest could be. But, to have a place alongside it? An offer of safety? Why wouldn't she take that offer? Hell, even V was tempted by it; when Cyn confronts her, she almost instinctively says "I can still...", as if her survival instinct is telling her to serve. J simply gave in.

Anyway, onto some details:

"If I promised you anything, it tricked me too."

I've seen people get confused by this line, but I think J is speaking on behalf of Eldritch J, formerly the J clone that led N & V's DD squad. That J seemed to fully buy the JCJenson cover story, at least to me, and J Prime appears to have deduced that. I don't think she has all of Eldritch J's memory, though; that "PRIOR HAZARD" poppup strikes me as the impersonal knowledge of an error report, rather than personal experience of getting blown to pieces.

"I never needed either of you."

Yeah, buuuuuullshit. J definitely doesn't really mean this. She's in bridge-burning mode, trying to convince herself more than anything that she's moved on. That offer of safety has gained a heavy price of two old friends, and J is pushing herself to pay it.

Local Autistic Teen Fights God And Wins

This uno-reverse-card moment felt a little out of nowhere at first, but on a rewatch, I think I get it. While the past few minutes fighting Cyn were utterly nightmarish, and some of the most gruesome stuff I've ever seen get done to humanoids, it did teach Uzi one thing; resisting the CallbackPing is suprisingly easy. Before this episode, it seemed like the USB Patch was the only hope for escaping the Solver's clutches, but apparently strong willpower and personality is enough to stop it temporarily, and that gets a lot easier to pull off once you know that you can do that. A single "Bite me" or the hand-hold of love is enough to stop Cyn's advance, and once Uzi fully realises that, it stops scaring her. In addition, Uzi's use of the [NULL] shows that she is a very quick learner, and can easily adapt to Cyn's tricks, allowing her to pull this "no-u" and turn the tables on Cyn. This quick thinking is also what wins the battle against Cyn in the end, catching on to how she uses the teleport.

Teleport... that seems familiar... hey, WAIT A SEC-

Doll Is Alive And I'm Not Coping; A Thesis

Everybody has pointed to this frame after Uzi eats Cyn's heart; the box that says "UZI DRN" briefly says "RSN DOLL" instead. But funnily enough, that isn't even the first thing that made me suspect that Doll might still be alive deep within Uzi's code.

If you look closely at Uzi's new gradient eyes, you'll notice that thEY'RE SO PRETTTYYY AAAHHH <3 <3 <3

*ahem*

If you look closely at Uzi's new gradient eyes, you'll notice that a subtle but distinct tint of red sits in between the yellow and purple ends. Admittedly, you can also see pink and orange, so it's not airtight evidence, but it was enough to get me speculating. Obviously, that RSN DOLL frame basically confirms it on it's own, but I found some other stuff too, and I thought it was interesting enough to share.

Uzi consumed Cyn's heart (some of it anyway), and Cyn lived on inside Uzi, possessing her tail in the post-credits. Back in "Mass Destruction", Cyn consumed Doll's heart, and while the scenarios aren't one-to-one, it can be reasonably inferred that Doll might live on in Cyn, who now lives on in Uzi, resulting in a situation oddly reminiscent... of Russian Dolls. BWAM BWAM BWAAAAAAM

It's thematically resonant, which means it's basically canon, right?

[There used to be another thing here about Solver Powers, but it turned out it was a lot less airtight than I thought, so I'm moving it to another post. Thanks to @1-800-hellyeah for the catch]

In conclusion, Doll lives on in the depths of Uzi's code, and that matters. The ramifications of this are unclear, and there's another thing with Doll in the credits, but we'll get to that in a moment with...

The Credits Scene Lightning Round

The credits are full of scenes of the surviving cast enjoying life after the Battle For Copper 9, and while I haven't heard anything about their canonicity... I mean, they look canon. Liam has stated that this is the end of the series, and I'm inclined to believe him, but a lot of this stuff feels like plot hooks he could pick up in a second season someday, if he wanted. Or maybe he just left them to feed the fanfic crowd long term. Either way, lets see what we've got to chew on!

J Prime, Alone

Man, despite how much of a prick she was, I feel kinda bad for J. She gave up everything for the Solver, only for the Solver to get defeated anyway, at least for now. She's repairing one of the ships she destroyed, presumably to leave the planet, but where is she gonna go? What is she gonna do? Fake Tessa's JCJenson credentials imply that the company might still be operating out in space somewhere, but trying to pal up with them feels like a long shot, especially since J Prime probably has some blood on her hands from Cyn's orders. ...What's left for her?

Goopy Ghost Doll

Okay, so if Doll is in Uzi's code, how is she also here? I honestly have no real clue, but my best guess is that since Uzi is arguably the most powerful entity in the setting now, Doll could utilise a fraction of Uzi's power to project herself out into the world, unnoticed? Maybe? That's the best I've got. Anyway, she's probably gonna try to kill V again, knowing her.

And don't say it's just a hallucination or something; everything* in the show has either been real, or an illusion with a clear source. They've been very good about not pulling the hallucination card, and I'm inclined to trust they wouldn't do it now.

*I just remembered the weird skeleton thing behind V in "Home", I'm not sure what that counts as

Yeva's Corpse, Or Lack Thereof

People have seen this shot of Doll's house, and said that the absence of one of the covered bodies implies Yeva is also alive. While Nori proves that your body doesn't even need to be missing for you to maybe be alive... I don't know. I'm hesitant. If she's alive, why get her body back now of all times? It feels like there are other much simpler explanations, like maybe her body is just on the floor now, 'cause everything started floating at the start of the episode, and actually, didn't N pull the cover off of those two, anyway? Maybe he put it back, I don't know. Make of this what you will, I got nothin'.

Eldritch J, Alone

Oh, SHE'S alive. Now THIS is interesting. Her heart did survive the explosion in "Heartbeat", and I guess nobody's been down to the Cryosleep wing since. Understandable, I wouldn't exactly be eager myself. But it's possible Eldritch J was able to recollect all the matter that Cyn "gathered" with her back then, and has grown back to full size.

Now that Cyn isn't around to run the Solver, Eldritch J is probably fully sentient and aware now. That must have sucked to wake up to; last she remembers, she got shot in the face by a purple gremlin, and now she's this fucking thing. Oh man, my brain is already writing the fanfic where J Prime finds her whilst infiltrating the Outpost for ship parts. (That concept is free to grab it anyone wants to)

Alright, lets finish this off...

Cyn

I've long wondered about Cyn's true nature, whether Cyn is a remorseless mastermind or a tragic puppet of the Solver's true will... The finale didn't give us a straight answer on this - The two seemed narratively entwined in Cyn's heart, but in the post credits scene she seems... friendly. Friendliest she's been, potentially. Plus, The illusory camera heads appear in Uzi's reflection seperately, implying a seperation between Cyn and Solver.

After everything, I think I've personally settled on somewhere in the middle. Cyn was a willing accomplice to the Solver... for as much as that can mean for Cyn. In "Home", Cyn is contacted by the Solver on the brink of death, and is offered salvation, to not be discarded like she was before. Her life before this was likely very short; her owners probably threw her out pretty quickly due to her "quirks". Tessa tried to give her the love she gave to her other drones, but it was already too late; Cyn would spend her formative years under the influence of the Solver, so it's no wonder she ended up so morally twisted. She talked about her "back-ups" to excuse the deaths and suffering of her fellow drones... was it an excuse? Or does she genuinely think that made it okay? How much does she understand... anything?

She's acted without remorse, but she's only had the full perspective of a detached eldritch being that only cares for consumption. But even then, her personality shines through. She seems to have genuine affection for N, even if she expresses it in horrid ways. Her alignment with the Solvers goals seems to come from a personal desire for revenge on humanity, considering how she plays out the gala. And despite the circumstances, she's visibly enjoying herself in "Absolute End", having an absolute blast fighting the trio. It's like a game to her.

Her crimes are great, but she's hardly the only one in this show with a kill count. I believe that if someone gave her that USB Patch, then sat her down and explained how reality works, she would have a full change of heart and crisis of remorse.

In a way, she was a lot like J; a willing, but coerced minion to the Solver of The Absolute Fabric. The Void. The Exponential End.

I like to call it The Voiceless One.

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