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kiame-sama · 4 months ago

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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 29

(Art of Bakeneko Che'nya made by the talented @twisted-desires )

Warnings; yandere, multiple yanderes, platonic intentioned yanderes and romantic intentioned yanderes, yandere poachers, sit-down talk with guard yanderes, general boundaries being set, surprisingly rational yanderes, irrational yanderes, facing yandere poachers, tough on yandere poachers, use of the word 'rape' against poachers, emotional harming and manipulation, emotional moments, Harpies, Merfolk, Nemean Lion, Gnoll, Drider, Unicorn, Nymphs, Various Fae Species, Kelpie, Werewolf, Naga, Genie,

Extra Note: I will be adding more Royal Sword Academy students and RSA will continue to play a part in the story I just need to decide a few things for them (Names and Species) if y'all feel like sharing ideas, I am open to hear them.

~~~~~~~~

You looked outside at the group of gathered males and sighed to yourself. It had been a full two days of this lock-in since Malleus had decided to take up post and the Dragon had yet to move from where he settled. Crowley stayed with you in the dorm while the other professors went to teach their respective classes. Thankfully Idia had passed off a tablet to Vargas who then brought it to you in your dorm and you were able to virtual attend the classes you had that day.

Part of you worried that Malleus had not gone to his classes, but you had to remember he and Lilia were not at Night Raven to learn the material like the other students. They were present for Malleus to learn how to interact with others outside of his castle and learn how to deal with others who were unlike him. Naturally, the Diasomnia guarding group also switched out and several had pitched tents outside of your dorm to switch who slept, who went to classes, and who guarded. Clearly the Diasomnia group believed in Malleus and were willing to support whatever he decided to do.

Crowley had decided your scent was no longer that strong pheromone of ovulation and was moving away from that part of your cycle. As your cycle continued that meant you were going to have to call Malleus back to your side as you had promised the Dragon. Still, you wanted a moment of peace before calling upon the Dragon.

There was no way you were going to let things continue on as they have been, and serious changes needed to be made. Dealing with the past three days taught you that much.

First, you had to have a sit down with all of your guards, currently assigned or not, and have a conversation with them about the inappropriate behavior of trying to break into your dorm. Second, you would have to lay boundaries and you knew Malleus would like them least of all. Finally, you knew you would have to deal with those Fae poachers as they continued to refuse to speak to anyone other than you. Though you didn't want to speak to any of them, you would have to in order to ensure Erikír didn't get a simple slap on the wrist for his behavior.

There was so much you needed to do and you hoped vaguely that you would be able to keep the staff as your guards for the week before having another dorm selected. Being around them was an incredibly domestic feeling and it gave you so much peace of mind to have the nest to yourself for even the small amount of time. Setting boundaries would likely be difficult, given the clear disparity over what was considered appropriate to these beast men versus what you considered appropriate.

For now, you needed to tell Malleus you were no longer ovulating and uphold your promise. You would likely have to let him cuddle and hold you but you also figured Crowley could call the others counted among your guards to have this boundary setting conversation with them. All you could do was hope they listened and received the information well.

"Headmage?"

"Yes, my little bird?"

"I think it may be time to talk to everyone about this situation and what I am thinking going forward. Can you tell them all to meet here?"

"Yes, but are you sure you want to invite them in? It still may be too soon."

"My scent is no longer what it was when I was ovulating, right?"

"Correct."

"Then it should be fine. I have a few choice words to say to them, but first I need to tell Malleus. I did promise him, after all."

The Crow nodded, stepping away and tapping at his phone with a serious expression. Luckily, all of the professors were already back after their classes which meant they would all be present for this meeting as well. It made you feel a little more at peace with the idea of the extra protection given what the topic of conversation was supposed to be.

You opened the large front door and noticed the way the Dragon sitting a short distance away didn't even turn his head. He had no reason to as the sound could only be someone leaving seeing as he refused to allow anyone other than the staff entry into the dorm and no one was willing to challenge the Dragon. A few students had apparently tried several times, but Malleus sent them fleeing rather quickly.

"Tsuno?"

Your voice caused an extreme change in the Dragon, his large head immediately whipping around to stare at you with wide green eyes. As soon as he saw it was in fact you he easily rose to his feet and began a quick trotting pace to where you stood. You could feel his purr rumbling through the earth before you could hear it as the Dragon bowed his head and paused just short of touching you. His tongue flicked out slowly, retracting and telling his instinctual mind your season was over for now.

He was quick to return to his humanoid form, wrapping his arms, wings, and tail around your body as he nuzzled against your neck. Others standing nearby were quick to notice his change in behavior and you recognized several of those that had joined ranks and were keeping guard among the Diasomnia students. Naturally, the Hoard was quick to run over and join Malleus as they were all clearly overjoyed to see you again and have the Hoard be complete once more.

You had seen Lilia more recently than the others, but it was clear they all were almost stressed by the lack of time spent with you. Despite this fact that there has been distance between the Hoard, they were clearly happy to be around you once again. The memory of these beasts and their growing addictions flashed to the front of your mind but you were quick to push it to the side for the time being. If you were going to survive long enough in this world to escape it, you would need to use that affection and addiction of theirs to your benefit.

"Thank you all for guarding me these past few days. I'm probably going to have to make all of Diasomnia something yummy to say my thanks seeing as it looks like the whole dorm showed up."

"Not just Diasomnia, Mademoiselle Trickster."

You glanced over to see Rook, Epel, Vil, Jade, Floyd, Jack, Trey, Kalim, and Jamil also approaching. Malleus let out a low growl but didn't try to stop the approaching students who knew well enough to pause just beyond the Dragon's reach. Vil was first to hold up his phone, as if showing Malleus the screen was going to calm him.

"Relax, Dragon. The Headmage just sent out a group message asking all guards- current and prospective- to come to Ramshackle. Apparently (Y/n) wants to talk to all of us. You can stop growling at us now."

Some part of you wondered if Vil was so bold to talk to Malleus because he knew the Dragon wouldn't act out while holding you or because he didn't fear the intimidating beast. Still, Malleus seemed to begrudgingly accept the Harpy's words as truth while he continued to softly purr and growl in his mixture of joy to hold you and anger at the nearby monster men. Despite him continuing to growl, Vil seemed to accept this well enough and approached the doors to the building to enter.

"What are you up to, Schoenheit?"

"I'm going inside. If we were all called to meet here, I'm getting a seat while I can. Not all of us enjoy standing all the time."

With that, the Harpy slid inside and past the Dragon as the others began to hesitantly follow suit.

~•§•~

You sat facing the group with Grim laying on your lap, perched neatly atop one of the chairs you had dragged away from the dining table nearby. Everyone who was a guard or was going to be one of your guards had shown up to hear what you had to say and even several Royal Sword Academy students were called to this meeting. They all sat in silence as you regarded them one by one, even Malleus chose to sit among the others with his Hoard standing around him.

"As you all likely know by now, I have been at the whims of my cycle these past few days and have willingly sequestered myself from everyone other than the staff and Grim for my own safety. I am aware a certain- shall we say- mob formed outside of my dorm a few days back."

The silence was palpable as you spoke and judging from the way a few of the others glanced away from you, you could tell a few of them had been part of that mob. Still, you tried not to linger on the thought for too long as you continued to speak.

"I won't ask who here was among that mob. I don't truly want to know. What I do want to make clear is this; though I don't know who among you took part, I am extremely disappointed in everyone who had any part in that mob. None of you- I will say it again- NONE of you are allowed to choose my fate for me or use my cycle as an excuse for your own motivations. Now, I understand not all of you fully comprehend my cycle or what it means for me going through it. I intend to clear up that and quite a bit else about Humans and myself during this."

You saw the way Riddle seemed to lower his head somewhat, refusing to meet your gaze and you knew Vargas had to remove Riddle from Ramshackle several times. The way Rook glanced away from you as you spoke told him he likely regretted his actions attempting to scale the walls of the building to get in. Even Leona seemed to be taking your words like they were vinegar he was being forced to drink.

"My cycle is abnormal for many species, even where I come from, Humans had an unusual cycle compared to the other species. Our cycles are monthly and continue until we are no longer fertile. Each new cycle beginning again marks another loss in overall fertility until I am no longer able to reproduce. My overall fertility is nowhere near over and it will likely be years until that happens."

You noticed the way Malleus almost seemed to become distressed at this news and it unsettled him to think you could have a limit to your fertility. Lilia was equally distressed by this news as he secretly hoped for you to bear more than a few young and that just out a time limit. Jack seemed somewhat thrown off by this and his ears visibly drooped somewhat.

"Humans don't have a heat. We ovulate. It means increased fertility, not increased need to mate. We don't need to mate if we don't want to even during ovulation. I understand this may be different for other species that do have heats and can die if they are not bred. Humans are not one of those species, so get that thought out of your minds right now. There is no justification for acting like I am a slab of meat to be claimed because I sure as hell am NOT. Any who treat me as such going forward will no longer be permitted to be one of my guards. That does mean anyone."

You glanced pointedly at all Housewardens when you said this just to ensure you got your point across that they were not exempt either. Most refused to meet your gaze.

"If I am seeking a mate for the peak of these cycles or for general company, I will say so. If I don't say anything about it, then I am not seeking a mate and will not look favorably upon those trying to offer themselves as such. I understand there is a bit of a territorial dispute taking place among the various dorms regarding me, so I will say this now; I am not territory. I am thankful you all are willing to guard me, that does not mean any of you get to try and fuck me unless I ask. Again, if I am seeking a mate, I will say so. I am not currently seeking a mate. This is subject to be changed only by my wishes."

Ruggie's ears visibly flattened at this, but he did not argue with your words. Interestingly, Vil seemed to be nodding along almost eagerly and seemed quite content with your words. The staff- including Ambrose, who arrived with the Royal Sword Academy students- also seemed to be in agreement with your words.

"Now, that doesn't mean there aren't any of you who have caught my interest. There are several," you noticed Malleus tense out of the corner of your eye, "but even if I do choose to seek a mate, I will choose to progress that relationship slowly, so don't think my interest or me starting a relationship is a free pass to try and breed or mate me. It is not. I understand that what I consider acceptable and appropriate interaction is not the same as what is considered acceptable or appropriate here and vice versa. I would like to know what assumptions you all have about Humans and either lay these myths to bed or give a more detailed explanation to their accuracy."

You glanced around at them and they quickly realized you were waiting for one of them to speak. Naturally, Lilia was the fastest to think of something and was eager to begin this dialogue.

"It is believed Humans consider touches to their stomach to be sexual in nature."

"This is false. It is strange, but not typically considered sexual. I would rather no one touch me without my permission but I understand communal scent, grooming, and physical contact is a key part of socialization here. I just ask that my chest and between my legs remains a no-touching zone. I can concede to social grooming so long as it remains purely social. Anything else?"

Several more ideas were thrown out and you spent your time debunking these theories and proving them to be false or true. Even Riddle's question about the Queen's rules regarding Humans and their breeding patterns was brought up, despite how nervous it made the Unicorn. Theory after theory and question after question was asked by the group and you did what you could to answer them while also making your own stance on these situations clear in how they pertained to you.

Some questions were not really questions about Humans as a whole, but more questions about you personally and you still attempted to answer them accurately. Even as the group turned from shameful after your scolding to curious and interested, you kept going until they ran out of preconceived notions and questions. Eventually there was only one question left, and Malleus was the one to ask it.

"Now that the peak of your cycle has passed, are you going to choose other guards for the remainder of this week?"

"No. I think the staff are doing a wonderful job and I am enjoying my personal space."

"... Will myself and the rest of the Hoard be allowed in your nest again?"

"Yes and no. I would like to talk about the apparent lack of personal space I am given on a daily basis. I understand that I need to be guarded due to the poaching activity, though that need is not as high in here thanks to Idia's upgrades. I also understand it is rather normal here for beds to be shared and that the Hoard's presence helps you rest peacefully, but that doesn't mean I want bedfellows every day. Can you agree to sharing the nest every few days instead of every day? That way you get the comfort of your Hoard and I get to sleep alone some nights."

Though you would rather get your nest exclusively for yourself and Grim, you also understood that it was a wise idea to keep Malleus close. If he was your strongest ally, it would be better to keep him endeared and keep him close even if you wanted space for yourself. If anything, it would be wise to see if you can have a more in depth conversation with Malleus about the Hoard so you can both abide by the rules it has and keep the Dragon contained in a state of calm.

"... Will it make you happy if I agree?"

"Yes."

"This is... Amenable. Very well. I can agree to these terms."

"Wonderful, now to address the situation at hand, these Fae poachers, what still needs to be done with them?"

~•§•~

You sighed and tried to calm yourself as you were flanked by the three you had asked to join you. Naturally, others were accompanying you as well but would wait outside of the holding cells to ensure they could intervene if needed. Malleus, Lilia, and Crowley all agreed to simply be present but to allow you to talk to these Fae as it was their only condition to their cooperation.

The first one you planned to speak with was an almost visibly nervous Boar beast that waited anxiously for you to arrive. His pig nose twitched every few seconds as he idly scraped his tusks on the table in front of him, one leg bouncing as if he were trying to work out the stress he felt. Apparently, this was a familiar Fae to Lilia as he had fought alongside this Boar a several centuries ago before Humans died out. You had figured Lilia or Crowley would recognize several of these Fae from their own pasts and you hoped their presence would make the Fae more agreeable.

Still, they were here to see you and talk to you, so you knew you would be asking them most of the questions.

The Boar Fae tried to stand when the door opened and you walked in, his hands chained to the table in front of him so he couldn't rise to meet you the way he wanted to. It was clear the lack of mobility was bothering the Boar as he almost seemed to pull and struggle against the chain that kept him in place. All of that fight and struggle died when Lilia joined you, the Bat standing over your shoulder with his arms crossed as you sat across from the Boar man.

The Boar Fae stared at Lilia for a long moment, refusing to look away from the frowning Bat before you spoke and his eyes locked onto you. It was clear he was trying to figure out who it was he wanted to focus on, the Human he desperately wanted to see or the Bat he went through hell with.

"You wanted to be questioned by me, so here I am. I do expect you to answer honestly when I ask you questions. Understood?"

"..."

The Boar stared for a moment before letting out a soft sound that oddly registered to your mind, as if he were speaking another language but you could still somehow understand him. His noise was much like a chittering hiss but you still heard words among the almost garbled sound despite how you felt like you weren't supposed to be able to understand him.

"Finally... A Human. Beautiful, soft, little Human..!"

His hands reached out to you but the chain stopped him once more and he let out a distressed noise. It was odd to you to hear his words among the garbled noise and you vaguely wondered if it was normal to understand what he was saying. Perhaps it was some slightly different dialect that allowed you to understand what the Boar was saying.

"Yes, I am Human. No, you can't touch me. You've done enough harm by siding with that moron Erikír. Now, do you understand I expect you to be honest or did I make a mistake choosing to speak with you?"

"You... You can understand me?"

"Yes. I still expect an answer."

"... Yes. I will answer your questions honestly. I... I'm so sorry for what I agreed to."

You stared in silence for a moment before wordlessly opening a notebook you brought with you, writing down the assumed species of the Fae man and information that Lilia had once fought alongside him. Were this any other circumstance, you would have comforted the Fae who was clearly distraught and ashamed, but this Fae planned to allow Erikír to put his webbed hands on you and you couldn't forgive that. It didn't matter if he apologized, he was still willing to see you be enslaved by that fish-dick prince for his own gain.

"What exactly did Erikír promise you?"

"A half-Human half-Merfolk egg to raise as my own."

"And were the others promised the same?"

"Yes. We were all promised our own child for our aiding his endeavors."

"Did you feel even the slightest bit of guilt, knowing you were taking away my freedoms and imprisoning me for a man who planned to rape me so you could get this egg?"

"..."

The Fae went silent, his gaze looking away from you and his head bowing. You could see how his nostrils flared and he breathed heavier through his snout as if upset by your words. It was your intent for being so direct with him in the first place.

"Did you or did you not feel guilt for what you knew would happen to me?"

"Yes. I knew it was wrong and I did feel guilt. ... I just wanted my child back."

"What child?"

"My Human child. She- I found her in the arms of her dead mother, so trusting and helpless. Looking to me for guidance and protection. I just want my baby to come back to me."

You felt a twinge of pity for a moment but pushed it aside, knowing that you could show no mercy to these Fae. Just because they were hurting didn't mean they were justified with their abominable actions. Taking a moment to write down his answer and gather your thoughts.

You said you wanted to break their fragile hearts and minds for what they did to you, it would be remiss to back down now.

"Your baby is gone. You know this. Replacing her with a child borne of force and abuse is in no respect a good way to honor the memory of your child."

"But I-"

"You wanted a child so badly you were willing to imprison and sell that child's true mother into slavery to be raped and used as an infant factory. How would your daughter feel knowing you were willing to do such a thing?"

"I..."

"Furthermore, what if someone had done that to your daughter? Took her from you and raped her to give others her children?"

"... It's different-"

"How? How is it different? Because it is being done to you?"

"..."

The Fae was visibly upset and trembling at this point, your words cutting him deeply as he began to sob, his head falling to the table. He seemed to be trying to hold himself together as he gasped and shook, trying to stop himself from screaming in pain. You stood slowly and he reached out quickly, grabbing your wrist as he continued to sob and tried to pull your hand to his face for comfort.

With a quick twist of your wrist, you freed yourself from his grasp and he cried out, trying to reach you again. It was clear he was in mental distress as he sobbed so heavily and tried again to seek comfort from you.

"Wait-! Please don't go! I'm sorry! I'm-!"

"Would your daughter be proud of the man you have become?"

He went silent even as his tears streaked down his face, his hands falling limply to the table as he stared at you and watched you leave. The three followed you out of the room and you had to stop to lean against the wall, trying not to cry as well despite knowing you were still angry at the Fae. You felt such pity for him even with everything he did and it hurt you to be so painfully harsh to the man despite it all.

"(Y/n), you don't have to do this-"

"Yes. I do. All of them need to know their actions have consequences and that their selfishness has caused me pain. They can feel my pain and agony for what they chose to do to me."

Lilia cuddled up to your side in an attempt to soothe you, resting his head on your shoulder and wrapping a wing over you. The Bat was a wonderful comfort and you were surprised to feel feathery wings also wrap around you to hold you as Crowley mimicked Lilia's actions. It was soothing in ways you didn't know how to fully articulate despite it all.

"I didn't know you could speak Fae."

"What?"

"He was speaking the language of the Fae. Most non-Fae species can't understand Fae language. But you could."

"It just sounded like words to me."

"Something to figure out later. For now, are you ready to question the next one?"

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #humans are extinct twst au

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angelicqsa · 11 months ago

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.ೃ࿐ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 3, 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂��𝗇

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌𝗌𝗌!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ”, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ, ɪᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ.” – ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʟᴇᴠɪᴛʜᴀɴ

────────────˚🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆────────────

Being with bellamy was everything to me. You two were a perfect picture couple, ever since yall met; on the dropship the first day the 100 came down, you and Bellamy had chemistry. Despite you not liking his 'whatever the hell we want' motto you decide to give him a chance, and to let him in your heart. Since then its been nothing but pure bliss and a strong feeling of content. He'd always hold you and whisper sweet nothings and treat you like someone. And for once in your life you felt like you was important to someone, and you felt like you had meaning in life which is something you had never felt before. But now, its as if a summertime sadness has hit.

When Pike and Bellamy had been having these hush conversations he started acting a little off and the soft love touches were soon replaced with intense stares. It was as if a switch had flipped in him, a battle with dark vs light and the dark took over the light inside him. He walks out of the bathroom into your shared room and you ask, "Is everything okay Bellamy? You're acting a little off. You can talk to me you know?" You whisper as he climbs into bed and just stares at me as if i said nothing.

With a gruff sound he responds in a monotone way, "I'm fine. Just some stuff with Pike and Kane." he turns his back towards me before you could even respond he turns off his lamp on his side of the bed. Feeling disappointment wash through me, you turn off my lamp and let out a sigh then turn your back on him and lay there, with him consuming your last thoughts for the night.

That was about a week ago and since then, Pike has became the chancellor with Bellamy's help, Bellamy keeps distancing himself farther and farther away from you it's a contrast to how just a few weeks ago you two were a perfect couple, laughing together, secretly running off, fixing the cars together and just overall enjoying each others company. Everything has changed.

You finish up my work in the library, fixing books and collecting books that were once borrowed. You walk to the bar spotting Jasper, "Hey Jasper. How you holdin' up?" You ask curiously as you pull up a seat next to him. you were secretly hoping he wouldn't blame me for Maya's death for the 15th time in the past month which of course you felt somewhat guilty about, but you're aware that it wasn't you who killed her, and the ones responsible held an immense amount of guilt, not only for her, but for all the victims.

"Hey.." Jasper says drunkenly, while nodding off. He had bags under his eyes as if he never sleeps, which could be possibles considering the grief he was feeling. His grief and his drinking go hand in hand, everytime you see Jasper he's either drunk or on his way to being drunk. It was sad seeing your friend destroy himself.

"How are you tod-" You quickly get cut off to Lincoln being dragged out of medical by one of Pike's goons while angrily cursing at them in Trigedasleng.

"What the fuck is going on!?" You rush over to the scene while looking at Lincoln getting dragged away and you spot Bellamy standing next to Pike without a care in the world that Lincoln; one of his friends, was getting dragged out.

You rush over to Bellamy, anger quickly filling my veins you grab his wrist and mutter to Pike "Can you excuse us for a moment?" you don't even give him a chance to respond before dragging Bellamy to our room.

He looks confused when you first started dragging him, "Hey! what's wrong!" You ignore him.

He tries again and says, "Why are you angrily dragging me like i did something wrong?" Again. Silence.

He sighs angrily and says, "Now you're ignoring me!?" You simply roll your eyes, still angry and stay silent.

"Im so confused! What did i do!?"

The last sentence was shouted as soon as you hit the door and you soon as you shut the door the anger in you swells, the anger that has been continuously increasing these past few weeks that you ultimately end up ejecting at Bellamy with full force.

"Are you fucking serious right now Bellamy!? 'What did i do', 'What did i do wrong?' You fucking know what you did wrong!," Bellamy looks at you in surprise at the burst of anger you just threw at him and tries to interject,

"Is this about Lincoln? I really coul-" You hold your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking and also yell,

"Im not fucking finished talking Bellamy! Im gonna talk and you're gonna fucking listen! I've been feeling like shit for these past few weeks! You've been cold towards me. You've been putting Pike and your loyalty before your loyalty to your friends whos been with you when we were dropped on this planet to die! I-.. I don't know who you are anymore Bellamy, it truly hurts to say that." You feel a pool form in your eyes as you explode, your emotions feel all over the place and you can almost see how this is gonna end. And the 'end' that formed in your mind wasn't a happy ending.

Bellamy looks at you, his eyes soft, opposite to the rough and intense eyes you'd been getting these past few weeks. Bellamy opens his mouth then quickly closes it processing what you had said.

He whispers, scared that an increase of volume might get his heart broken. "Im sorry, i- i didnt mean to make you feel like that. I had no idea you felt like that."

The tears fall down your face as if youre a window on a rainy day, you look down deep in thought and prepare for the answer you might get for this next question. "Do you love me anymore Bellamy?" You say as your voice cracks. You're too afraid to look at his expression, but suddenly you feel his fingers on your chin forcing you to look up at him. He looks broken, he also had tears in his eyes.

"You think i don't love you...? How- How could you think that? I live my life for you. Anywhere you go i go. You've became a big part of my life and showed me what being truly loved is like. I love you always and forever, and i promise ill do everything to make you feel the love i feel for you." He says while crying in guilt for making her ever feel that way. How could he make her feel like that? This girl is the love of his life. The person he wanted to spend all his years with and build a family with.

"I love you Bellamy. So so much." you smile while connecting my forehead with his. "We'll get through this together." you kiss him passionately, all the anger already gone and replaced with love and happiness. See this is the boy you fell in love with.

You two passionately kiss and the kiss progressively gets deeper and more needy. He back away first, breathlessly he says, "Can i show you how much i love you? Baby let me worship you."

You nod your head and kiss him again before he picks you up and you yelp in surprise. "Maybe a warning next time" You giggle as he places you on the bed and starts to move his hands around your body making sure to touch everywhere.

Your body tingles as you feel his hands all over you. He towers over you and kisses you slowly before moving to your neck and making sweet love spots.

'Mmm Bell..' You mutter as he licks and sucks, those mutters eventually turn into moans.

"You gotta keep it down baby. Can you do that for me?" He asks as he pauses from sucking your neck. You nod and he proceeds.

You feel the warmth on your neck suddenly disappear and then you feel your pants being slid off slowly and look down to see Bellamy making eye contact while playing with your panties.

"You're so gorgeous.. how'd i get so lucky?" He says. He then rises up and removes your shirt, exposing your bra. He ends up taking that off and looking at your boobs as if he's seen a million dollars. He starts sucking on one of your nipples while kneading the other one in his hand. You whimper at the blissful sensations while making eye contact with him which just increases the nectar coming out your pussy.

He kisses the nipple he had just been sucking on and moves on to the next one making you bite your lip in pleasure whining at the good sensation.

He then moves to the valley of your breast and starts making open mouthed kisses down to the part where your panties were. He mumbles "These shouldnt be on" and rips them off.

"Hey! i liked those!" You say gasping as you feel the air on your vagina.

"Theres plenty more baby." He says while looking at you with a smirk. He then licks a long strip from your clit down to my entrance. "You're getting my fingers and my tongue today ok baby?" He says while breathing hard out his nose. You love how he still was somewhat dominant even when its supposed to be soft and him worshipping your body you still love the sense of dominance he brings.

"Yes baby thats ok." You whimper out while looking at him with anticipation. He attacks your clit first, circling your clit slowly before sucking which he repeats for a minute. He then places open mouthed kisses on your vagina as he did when he was working on your chest.

You moan at the sensations feeling it deep inside your core almost close to coming. But you didn't want to come that quick and have the night be over with already. You arch your back into his tongue while he licks and suck as if you vagina was a lollipop. You felt close and felt pure bliss ignoring the words he had once muttered earlier 'you gotta keep it down baby' well being cautious of your volume was long gone as soon as his tongue made contact with your clit.

He sucks on your clit which brings you closer to the edge. "F-fuck Bell.. im-im close!" You struggle to say, lost in the sensations and tingles your body was feeling. One last lick did the trick for you and you cum all over his tongue. He smirks and groans as he feels your hot cum. He swallows it before coming back up to kiss you, and when you kiss him you taste yourself all over his lips and tongue.

"Your moans sound amazing, i want more out of you.." He says softly before going back down and sticking a finger inside of you making you moan loudly as you arch your back with your lips parted and your eyes magically shut as he pumps in and out of you. You moan loudly calling out his name as if he was a god.

And that was how you night ended. Feeling worshiped and cared about by the man you love most. But everyone else the next day had heard you being worshiped and you calling our Bellamy's name. An embarrassment but with a good outcome.

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 🤍

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!

─────────⋆˚࿔ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────────

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ponyosmom35 · 1 year ago

Text

he's gone

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

synopsis: reader finds out that Simon passed when Price, Johnny, and Gaz show up at her house.

warnings: angst, death, PTSD, panic attack, crying, I'm so sorry

Link to master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

She holds her hose tightly in her hand as she sprays her blooming flowers with water. The sun was beginning to set and she felt at peace. Allowing her mind to wash away the stress of the day. The sunlight hits her face and she sighs, imaging that somewhere in the world, Simon was looking at the same beautiful sky. She recalled their conversation earlier that day, a small smile coming to her lips as she remembered his voice.

She stood in the kitchen, intensely focused on her measuring cup as she attempted to fill it with the correct amount of water. She turns off the water after allowing it to reach ⅓ and carefully moves over to her mixing bowl. She dumps the water in and moves the mixer down, flipping the switch and watching as her kitchen aid whips the cake mix together. The loud noise drowns out the sound of her phone ringing and she carries on. A few minutes later she finishes putting the batter into a pan and throws it into the oven, hoping that a lemon cake would distract her from how much she missed Simon. She looks down at her small ragdoll kitten who plays with her feet and laughs, she picks him up and kisses his little face gently. Still deciding how she was gonna come clean about adopting a pet without permission.

It had been two weeks since he’d gone. So far she’d been doing better than she expected, managing to keep herself quite busy all day. It was the nights that were the hardest. She struggled to sleep without him. She tried to pretend like her body pillow was the same, but nothing could beat the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. When she came across a post about the little guy needing a home, she volunteered without a second thought.

He was quite good about calling, he would try to call every other day when in between missions. But as they got new intel he wouldn’t be able to reach out for several days at a time. This week she had not heard from him once. She knew he was going on their first mission. She worried about him, she knew that he could handle himself, better than anyone in the world.

She picks up her phone to set a timer when she realizes she’d missed his call. Her heart drops and she calls him back instantly.

“Si?” she asks anxiously

“Hi my love”

“Oh thank god, I thought something may have happened. I’m so sorry I didn’t hear my phone I was baking and it was on silent”

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t expect you to pick up every time I call”

“Of course I will” she says

“How are you doing darling?”

“I’m doing good, I decided to bake a cake for whatever reason” she says staring at the mess of flower and egg shells on the counter.

Simon chuckles and leans back in his chair as he imagines her in the kitchen trying to bake. Tears fill his eyes and he attempts to keep his voice steady.

“Is my kitchen still standing?” he asks

“The kitchen smells wonderful thank you very much” she responds

“What have you been up to this week? Catch me up”

“I wanna talk about you, where have you been the past week? Are you any closer to coming home? How are you doing? How are the boys?” she says rapid firing her questions

“We’re all good. But I don’t wanna talk about work, tell me about you distract me”

She nods to herself, understanding that he didn’t want to talk about it, meaning that their mission didn’t go as planned. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“just talk to me baby, anything”

“Well it’s been pretty gloomy today so I started reading a new book, it’s about grief. I’ve only read a few chapters but so far it’s been very reassuring and comforting to know that grief isn’t linear, you go through ups and downs just like anything else”

“That sounds wonderful love”

“Yeah, so I’m gonna try and read for a few minutes everyday. Kylie and I have started a jazzercise class, you should see how awful I am. I can’t look at myself in the mirror because in my mind I’m absolutely killing it, but then I look at the mirror and it looks like i’m half dead” she laughs

“I’d pay anything to see it”

“Don’t worry, when you come home you’re gonna get a full performance” she promises, causing him to laugh. The lump in his throat is tightening as the tears fall down his cheeks. He runs his hands through his hair and covers the speaker as he sniffles.

“I’m counting down the minutes”

“Me too” she muses “so I think we should get a cat”

“What?” he asks

“Let me rephrase that, I brought home a kitten last week”

“Did you now?” he chuckles

“Before you freak out, he’s so cute and cuddly, he was abandoned and my friend found him but she couldn't take care of him, I just had to bring him home!” she defends herself

“I’m not mad love, I’m glad you’ve got someone to keep you company. What's his name?”

“Junie”

“Why Junie?”

“Because june is the month we met” she admits

Simon puts the phone down and covers his face. His heart was crushing at her words. He receives a knock on the door, he wipes his eyes and picks the phone back up. “I love it”

“We’re about an hour out from departure, so I’m gonna have to let you go” he says slipping his mask over his face.

“Okay, please be safe”

“I love you more than anything in this world, take care of yourself okay?”

“Of course Si, I love you too, call me as soon as you can”

“goodbye love” he says before hanging up the phone.

She noticed his odd behavior that morning, but decided to let it go to prevent any unnecessary anxiety. She finishes watering the plants and turns off the hose. She walks to the steps and heads inside. She shuts the door, making sure to lock the door as well as placing the wood down to prevent it from being opened easily. She slips off her shoes and smiles at the sight of Junie sitting on the counter. She picks him up and holds him close. The sound of a knock at the door catches her attention. She wasn’t aware of any company. She walks over to the door and opens it to see John, Kyle, and Johnny. Her eyes travel to the British flag held in John’s hands and her smile falls.

“John?” she asks as her brain struggles to process the situation.

“y/n-”

“Don’t you dare” she warns holding her hand up to stop him “don’t”

“He’s gone lass” Johnny says, his teary eyes meeting her own. She shakes her head and glares at him.

“I just talked to him this morning” she refuses

“Mission was local, went south and we barely got out. We came here as soon as we could”

“What happened to him?” she asks, crossing her arms, clearly still in shock from the news.

“Can we come in?” John asks, she nods and leads them into the living room where they sit and she remains standing.

“Tell me john”

“Why don’t you sit down” he responds

“I want to know what happened!” she demands

“He was hit” Kyle says

“Where?” she asks, Price shakes his head and stands up, moving over to her and placing the flag in her hands. She notices the tags placed neatly in the center of it and she reads his printed name. She looks up at him as tears fill her eyes.

“He’s not gone, I just talked to him today! He was telling me not to burn the kitchen down -” she cuts herself off with a sob, and holds her hand to her mouth. “We’re getting married in four months”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, I-I wish I could’ve saved him” Price says gently

“Please don’t say that” she begs

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” he asks gently

“Stop this john I can’t - I can’t” she says setting his things down on the table as she looks out of the window. Tears stream down her face as she attempts to control her breathing.

“These are for you” Johnny says, handing her a bundle of letters, each of them addressed to her. There is a small box on the top of the pile.

Her vision blurs at the sight of his handwriting. Her body becomes weak as two words loop in her mind. Her body falls to the floor as the voices of the three men fade away. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. The man she loved with every fiber of her being. Her Simon. Simon who nearly killed the person who disrespected her. Simon who held her when her sister died. Simon who saved her life. Simon, who built her a bookshelf, redid her entire deck and porch. Never again would he give her one of his bear hugs. She wouldn’t hear his beautiful laugh, or watch the way he separated his food to keep it from touching. No more early morning cuddles, kisses, silly arguments. How would she live without him? What she wouldn’t have given to hear his deep voice in that moment, telling her that it was going to be okay. He couldn't. He was gone.

She was inconsolable, her heart wrenching sobs echoed through the house. Bringing tears to the eyes of the soldiers surrounding her. Johnny was at her side, holding her shaking body, trying his best to bring her even the smallest bit of comfort. He felt sick to his stomach watching her writhe in pain.

John had called her parents and the trio waitied with her until they arrived. As soon as John opened the door, they recognized him from the day he brought the news about Emma. Her mother gasps and hurries into the house, seeing her daughter crumpled on the ground, agonizing sobs erupting from her lungs. She drops beside her and rubs her back. Her father shakes Johns hand and walks the soldiers to the door. John pulls him outside and informs him the the truth.

“Sir, we need you to understand that the work we do is classified, in the eyes of the Government we do not exist unless we’re needed. With a job like this, comes sacrifices we have to make to protect the people we love”

“I’m not following? What sacrifices?” her father says, crossing his arms

“If one of the people we’re investigating finds any bit of information about out lives or our loved ones then they’d be in danger”

“Are you telling me that my family isn’t safe?”

“Officially I can’t tell you anything, but you need to know that we’re taking care of the situation, you’re family will be under 24/7 surveillance. You won’t even know they’re around”

“Is it true then? Is Simon really gone? Man to man, is he gone?” her father asks, staring at Price.

“For now” he responds “it’s imperative that y/n believes this”

“You’re asking me to lie to my daughter? Do you hear her in there? How can I-”

“Sacrifices, we all have to make them in order to keep our family safe. That’s all we’re doing here” Price shakes his hand and walks down the steps “take care of her, we’ll be checking in”

After hours of tossing and turning, crying until her lungs and throat burned she finally decides to get out of the warmth of her bed. A place she used to feel the most comfortable, now was empty. She rubs her hands over her face as her headache grows more intense, the lack of sleep already affecting her. Having woken up multiple times from nightmares, she willed herself to stay awake, to protect her fragile heart from the horror of her dreams. Everyday for the past week she’d been reminding herself that dreams are simply just a reflection of the mind, a way for her worries and fears to be shown. It wasn’t real. He wasn’t gone. This couldn’t be true. Simon wouldn't leave her.

She moves into the bathroom and stares at herself in the mirror, she looks exhausted. The weight of Simon’s absence is evident on her face. Her face was puffy and her hair was tangled. A mixture of tears, saliva, and mucus coated her face. She wipes it off and sighs. Her lips trembling once more as her eyes fill with tears. She grips onto her hair as she tries to breath through her fourth panic attack in 24 hours. Memories of his hands running through her hair flash through her mind. A wave of nausea runs through her and she stares at it in disgust. He always loved her hair, he’d play with it absentmindedly. She was angry. How as she supposed to live with the hair he would kiss every morning, the hair he gripped when he kissed her passionately. She notices the scissors on the counter and grabs them, without hesitation she begins to cut strips of her hair off. She watches as her gorgeous strands fall, some in the sink, others landing on the ground. She sobs as she ruins her hair, unable to stop herself. After several minutes, she drops the scissors and stares at herself, the jagged strands unbalanced. She rushes to the toilet in a split second and empties her stomach violently.

The sound causes her mother to rush into her room, she bursts through the door and spots her daughter laying against the toilet surrounded by her precious locks. “Oh honey”

please forgive me for this! omg I made myself cry. below is the link to when they reunite, I posted this a few months ago. If you wanna read that now, you are more than welcome I'll link it below, however there will be a few filler chapters in-between that I'll be posting!!!

You’re alive? (middle of MW3)

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/724654294153003008/youre-alive?source=share

love you all <3

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jacaerysgf · 1 year ago

Text

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Twelve | The Question

Summary | The prince has shown up at your doorstep! what could he possibly want?

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon × Fem!Reader

Warnings | switches between jacaerys and reader pov, fluff!, hotheaded jace, not proofread

Word Count | 1.7k

a/n | things are finally moving along in this chapter!! i hope you guys enjoy it <3

series masterlist

Jacaerys stares after you as you walk away. The smile on his face is not faulting, he can feel his heart pounding against his chest. A hand grips his shoulders and shakes it.

“I told you, you are a love sick fool.”

“Shut up.” jace smacks his hand off his shoulder and begins to walk away towards one of the staircases. “Youre still smiling i can see it.”

He sighs having no reply for him. Hes never felt like this before. Did you cast some sort of spell on him? How can you have this grasp on him where you can dictate his mood by something as simple as a greeting or your smile? He barely knows you but he feels like hes known you a lifetime.

“Are you even listening to me?” he looks at lucerys with a blank look who sighs, “jace-”

“I need to go speak to the queen.” jace says before he sharply turns away from luce and walks through the corridors, his neck cramps from the amount of time he bows as he passes people. He will ask his mother about properly courting you joffrey be damned. As he is almost near his mothers chambers a voice calls out his name and he holds back his sigh. Of course someone had to come bother him now of all times. He quickly takes a deep breath and puts a gracieuse look on his face as he turns. “Lady cassandra.”

“You fought well today my prince.” he rolls his shoulders back with a smile on her face. He knows she is just saying that to say something good to him as much as wants to say something he just shakes his head. “There is no need to praise a loss my lady.”

“Dont be so modest not many a man would be able to fight against ser joffrey,” did joffrey even have a reputation for being good at fights? He would have to look into that later. “To celebrate you should join me and the other ladies for tea in the garden.”

He attempts to hide the grimace that tries to fight its way onto his face. The last thing he wishes to do is gallivant around the gardens with the women of the court. “I am sorry my lady but i must speak with the queen-”

“She happens to be meeting with some of the court now so you are free to come, my prince.” and how does she know his mother is in a meeting now? And why does he speak of her so casually? Before he can question her heleana comes up behind them. “She's right, the queen is meeting some of the lord's right about now.”

The two greet heleana as she waved them off and walks past them having said what she wanted to and jacaerys faces cassandra once more ignoring that winning look she has on her face. He clenches his jaw before offering her his arm. “Then I would be more than happy to join you, my lady.”

Her smile grows as she grabs his arm and the two begin to walk towards the gardens. She makes a simple conversation with him asking what his plans are for the rest of the day? How did he feel about the tourney tomorrow? He grew more and more annoyed at her mundane conversation. She was quite frankly not doing anything wrong and he had no reason to get annoyed with her so why was he?

A part of him tried to convince himself he was just still annoyed that he lost and when cassandra even noticed he was not in the best mood that is the reason he told her but when she was attempting to cheer him up there was a small part of him telling him he was so upset because she was not the girl he wanted to be talking to. She was not you.

—-

You feel yourself sit up, alarmed. The prince? He was here? Right now?

“Good day ser. I am sorry I had no clue you were all busy. I shall take my leave.”

“Nonsense my prince please whatever could you need?” your mother goes to stand by your father's side at the door blocking your view of jacaerys. Your mother turns to you and makes an alarmed face before you realize you must look like a mess. You quickly hope out of the bed and attempt to fix your hair as your heart pounds.

“I simply wish to speak with your daughter.”

All of you freeze, your parents turn to look at you and you continue to slowly play with your hair.

“It is late my prince-”

“I apologize for showing up like this but I fear this matter is rather urgent.”

You make your way towards the doorway and your parents move out of the way.

“We’ll just… be back here…”

You can hear them feverishly whisper to each other as you step closer to jacaerys. You bow and avoid his eyes, “my prince, is there something you needed?” one of your hands moves up to your chest to grasp at where your heart is as you feel like it is about to burst out of your chest.

He's quiet for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face as his hands trail down to where your hand is and he freezes before looking back at your face and turning his head. A blush forming on his face as he composes himself.

“Could we step out into the hallway for a moment?”

Your jaw drops slightly and you turn back to your parents who look alarmed and shrug. “If you wish, my prince.” He offers his hand to you and you grasp it. He smiles warmly as he laces his fingers with yours and pulls you out into the hallway.

You don't go too far, your room only being a few feet away from you. He does not let go oof your hand. You enjoy the feeling of his hand laced with yours until the rational part of you remembers it is improper for you to be holding hands so you attempt to slip out of your grip but he grabs your hand once more and looks you dead in the eyes.

“I find this hard to admit even to myself but ever since i saw you that first day you have plagued my thoughts,” you feel your breath run away from you as he takes a step closer to you, “my prince-” “please my lady i must speak now or i will not be able to speak again.”

You hold you tongue and he takes a deep breath, when did he get so close? You can feel his breath wisping on your face as he closes his eyes. “I have never felt like this before, you have consumed me fully and hold me in your grasp. I must know this, my lady. If I were to ask to enter courtship with you would you allow it?”

Your heart was banging so loudly you would be shocked if he could not hear it. The grip he has on your hand tightens as he eagerly awaits an answer from you. Your mind runs a mile a minute as you attempt to find some words to say.

“It is not a good idea, I am from a minor house.”

“That is of no matter to me.”

“But it should matter, you have every lady from every house vying for your attention-”

“Yet yours is the only one I wish to have. I wish for your eyes to only look at me. I wish for only your hands to grip mine. That is all that matters to me. So you must tell me.”

“Yes.”

He freezes before a smile consumes his face and his free hand laces with your free hand and he laughs. “This makes me happier than you know my lady.”

You can't help but grin as well at his overwhelming excitement. A part of you thinks hes about to ask if he could court your but he doesnt. Instead stepping away from, dropping one of your hands before leading you back to the rooms door where you see your parents waiting anxiously on the bed and shoot up upon seeing the two of you. Your mothers eyes drift down to your joined hands and a smile grows on her face.

“I’d like to speak with you ser.”

Your father clears his throat and puffs out his chest slightly, “of course my prince.”

You find yourself unable to stop the laughter that builds up in your throat as you see your father attempt to make himself look more intimidated and hide behind the wall as you laugh.

“What is so funny? You dare laugh at your father?” This only causes you to laugh harder as you finally get out of jacaerys hand to cover your face as you lean against the wall.

You miss the smile on your fathers face as your mother smacks his shoulder and smiles at the prince. You manage to compose yourself as your mother straightens out her dress, “allow me to stay my prince, if you could.”

“Of course.”

Your mother waves her hand and ushers you to walk away and you look between all of them and you walk away, further down the hall until you cannot hear them. You lean against the wall and cover your face with your hands as the reality of the situation creeps in.

He is most likely asking permission to court you.

Your smile against your hands as heat spreads all over your face. His words play over and over in your head and you find yourself shocked you actually managed to not faint during the conversation.

It was like something out of those fairytale books you read as a child. The prince finding the maiden girl and falls in love and they live happily ever after. The greedy part of you begins to imagine your life here in the keep. Getting to wake up and roam the rose gardens.

You hear your name being called and you walk back towards the room and run into jacaerys who's just stepping out.

“I'm so sorry, my prince.”

He just shakes his head and smiles, lifting up your hand to place a kiss on the back of your hand before saying goodnight and walking off.

You turn and watch him walk away, the smile on your face only growing as he turns back to look at you once more.

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bijouxcarys · 7 months ago

Text

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: I know it's been a while; been dealing with some health issues and uni work. I shared a teaser of chapter 16, which I actually had to split into two chapters because it reached 20k words and that's just ridiculous for me personally lol. Hope you enjoy <3

CW/TW: Slight angst, mild mention of violence

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

@electronicwitchsandwich

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman fics, just let me know!)

Roman’s couch was far too soft for a mind that wouldn’t stop racing.

It wasn’t surprising that Nate couldn’t sleep, even though it had just passed 2am. Her leather jacket was bunched up at her lower back, some kind of feeble attempt at some comfort. But the ache of her body was too much, and her thoughts were circling like vultures around death as she stared at the screen of her phone, aimlessly swiping between apps and trying to lose herself in the virtual world.

Everything felt… off. Unreal. It was like she was trapped in some kind of dream—the kind in which no matter how hard you try and wake yourself up, no matter how much you tell yourself it’s just a dream, you’re stuck in it. It’s real. And it’s not going away.

Katya: Alexei and Boris are staying at the house tonight. And I don’t know why, nobody will tell me anything.

Nate frowned, her thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. Alexei and Boris weren’t just hanging around for fun—they only showed up together at the house for either alcohol, or business. Either way, it meant something was happening; normally, Nate would be informed about meetings or visits, business endeavours… But the fact that she wasn’t this time, it didn’t sit right.

Katya: Where are u anyway??

With a sigh, she typed out a response.

Nate: Lana’s

Nate: And that’s weird. You didn’t overhear anything or…

Katya: No. It was all very… weird. They didn’t even see me standing there. They went into dad’s office.

Nate: Right…

Nate: Lock your door and get some sleep if you can. If anything seems off or if you hear something, call me.

Nate: I mean it, you call me if something happens.

Nate: Promise me.

Katya: Ok

Katya: Nate, you’re my best friend, aside from my sister.

Katya: There’s nobody else I would call.

Katya: ily 🩷

Nate: Love you too x

A knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach, but there wasn’t much she could do from here. Whatever was going on at the house, it would have to wait until she got back. She had business to take care of before then. And as guilty as it made Nate feel for lying to her sister about her whereabouts, she had to keep reminding herself that it was for Katya. For her future. Both of their futures. A dangerous life with dangerously high stakes had to be neutralised before chaos struck. Because once chaos strikes, one only has a certain amount of time before a complete implosion.

And chaos had, indeed, struck.

Switching over to her conversation thread with Boris, she thought about texting him to ask what was going on, but as soon as she opened the chat, her eyes were drawn to the unopened image attachment at the top of the screen.

Bloody hell, what now?

The second the photo loaded on her screen, she had the impulse to fling her phone to the other side of the room, far away from her eyes. A grotesque image of Boris in front of a mirror, flexing, his pale skin bare of any clothing. Completely nude. She groaned audibly, her face scrunching in disgust.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, immediately closing the chat and tossing her phone beside her. Of all the things she didn’t need to deal with right now, Boris and his misguided attempts at seduction were at the top of the list.

“I brought you a blanket.”

Nate turned around quickly to see Naomi standing in the doorway, holding a blanket in her arms. Tentative, as if she wasn’t sure how Nate would react to her showing up in the middle of the night. Everyone made the executive decision to stay at Roman’s house that night, considering the meet up occurring the day after. And for a minute, Nate forgot where she was exactly—a place she really shouldn’t be.

“Oh,” she exhaled, calming her nerves. “Uh, thanks.”

Naomi offered a small smile and walked over, holding the blanket out to Nate. “I figured you didn’t have anything with you… the big guy ain’t exactly stocked up on guest amenities.”

Nate couldn’t help but snort at that, taking the blanket and setting it in her lap. “Yeah, I noticed”

Lingering for a moment, Naomi shifted on her feet. “Mind if I sit?”

“Sure, whatever,” Nate shrugged, leaning back into the couch as Naomi sat next to her, tucking one leg under the other and glancing around the room before her gaze settled on Nate again.

“I, uh…” she started softly. “I just wanted to apologise about the whole engagement party thing. I didn’t mean for it to… well, I don’t want you to think I was there to start anything. I wasn’t spying or nothin’.”

Nate tilted her head slightly, her tired eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You weren’t?”

“No, not really. I mean, Roman asked me to be there, yeah, but I wasn’t tryna make trouble. I was just… watching, I guess. I don’t want you to think I, like… have it out for you or anything.”

Nate studied Naomi’s face for a moment, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but she found none. She seemed genuine, even back at the party. It was a strange contrast to the tension Nate usually felt in the presence of Roman’s inner circle.

“Okay,” Nate cautiously accepted. “Then what exactly were you doing there?”

Sighing, Naomi pulled her hands into her lap and played with the edges of her robe sleeves. “Honestly, just tryna keep an eye on things. I know how the big guy can be… how intense he can get. I think he’s just worried about… you bein’ around—about whether or not he can trust you. And I guess he thought I could give him some perspective. But I wasn’t there to judge you.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, her scepticism still evident, but she nodded slowly. “Right…”

“Look, I get why you’d be pissed about it. Hell, I’d be too. But for what it’s worth… I don’t see you as a threat. I don’t know the full story, but my ass has been around enough Roman Reignses in my life to know when someone’s got potential.”

“Potential for what?” Nate huffed through a low, humourless laugh.

“To be somebody Roman trusts,” Naomi said simply. “That ain’t something he gives lightly, y’know? But I think he sees something in you. He wouldn’t have let you stick around this long if he didn’t!”

The comment caught Nate off-guard, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. Roman’s trust wasn’t something she’d ever considered herself earning at any point during any of this. And to be frank, he’d be wise to share that sentiment. Nate didn’t exactly trust easily either.

“I’m not really looking to be Roman’s most trusted ally here,” she muttered, trying to deflect.

“I know,” Naomi nodded. “Doesn’t mean it ain’t happening, though.”

The two of them sat in silence for a moment as Nate pondered the words. Still unconvinced that Roman Reigns trusting her was on the horizon, in any universe.

“I think you’re handling everything pretty well. Given that the boys are a bunch of barnyard animals.”

Nate scoffed, shaking her head. “If this is me handling things well, I’d hate to see what a disaster looks like.”

Naomi chuckled quietly. “Girl, you’re doing just fine.”

Nate let out a deep breath, feeling a little of the tension ease out of her shoulders. She wasn’t sure she believed Naomi, but it was nice to hear something other than suspicion for once.

“Thanks,” she said after a moment, keeping her voice subdued.

Naomi smiled and gave her a small nod, standing up from the couch and stretching out her arms. “Well, I should let you get some rest. It’s been a long ass day.”

“Yeah,” Nate quietly agreed, watching out of her peripherals as Naomi took a step towards the door, paused, and glanced back at her.

“If you need anything whenever you’re here… just let me know, okay?”

Nate finally broke out a tiny smile. “Will do.”

With that, Naomi left the room, leaving Nate alone again in the quiet darkness.

On the plus side, Nate managed a fitful hour and a half of sleep before she jolted awake, her body stiff from the awkward position she’d fallen into on the couch. The blanket Naomi had brought her was tangled around her legs, offering little comfort. With an irritated sigh, she pushed it off and sat up, her head heavy, and the room thick with early-morning silence.

3:45am. She groaned as she read the time on her phone, running a hand through her hair. Honestly, she could have just gotten up and driven back to Tribeca, or to Lana’s place. Could have. But she didn’t. She put up with the discomfort of sleeping in Roman Reigns’ house, on the couch. God, if Dimitri could see her right now… No, she didn’t even want to entertain that possibility.

Suddenly, the soft creak of footsteps caught her attention. Her eyes snapped toward the direction of the stairs, narrowing slightly as a dark figure emerged.

Roman.

In this low lighting, he looked even more imposing—which she didn’t think could be possible—with his black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and the fitted T-shirt stretched across his chest. It was clear he hadn’t exactly been asleep either.

Roman crossed the room without acknowledging her at first, his focus entirely on the bar in the corner. He wasn’t exactly trying to be quiet as he methodically poured himself a glass of whiskey with a slightly clumsy exterior. Something about his demeanour screamed stress, despite the carefully controlled facade he always maintained. The whiskey sloshed in the glass, the sound crisp in the otherwise silent space.

She watched him for a moment, wondering what the hell had brought him downstairs at this hour. Was he still riled up from earlier? Was something else gnawing at him? Nate didn’t have the energy to ask, but she couldn’t help but feel unnerved by it. Especially when he turned, one drink in each hand, and headed toward the couch—the couch she was on.

Instead of choosing any of the empty chairs scattered around the room, Roman sat down at the opposite end of the couch from her, his broad frame taking up more space than necessary. The leather creaked under his weight, and Nate tensed slightly, unsure of why he’d chosen to sit so close. She had expected him to stay aloof, maybe ignore her entirely like he just did moments ago. But here he was, settling in, clearly not in a hurry to go back to where he’d come from.

He held out one of the glasses in her direction, and she hesitated. Eyed the drink suspiciously.

“You look like you need it,” Roman muttered, his tone edged with something almost… defeated?

Nate blinked, caught off-guard. Roman wasn’t exactly the sympathetic type from what she’d witnessed, especially not with her, and the offer made her brow arch in confusion. Nevertheless, she took the glass from him, her fingers brushing the cold condensation, but she didn’t drink it. Instead, she just stared at it, trying to piece together what was going on in his head.

They sat in silence for a long, drawn-out moment. She took little intervals to glance over at him, the sharp lines of his profile barely softened by the modest light. His jaw was clenched, his knuckles tight around his own glass as he took a slow sip.

It was strange—seeing him like this. Roman was always so controlled, always in charge, but right now… something was off.

Nate wasn’t sure if it was the late hour or the weariness etched into his face, but the usual tension between them felt muted, replaced by something entirely different. Heavier. It was almost like Roman was trying to drown himself in nothingness, the drink in his hand a poor substitute for whatever was really bothering him.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“Who’s your contact?”

She snapped her head toward him, furrowing her eyebrows. “If I told you, you’d just have another thing to be mad at me for.”

Immediately, she regretted the sharpness of her tone. Her irritation, the bone-deep exhaustion, everything was making her more short-tempered than usual. She sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across her forehead.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, her voice softer this time. “I didn’t mean to… I’m just tired.”

Roman didn’t react to her apology, didn’t even flinch at the attitude—she was sure he had become accustomed to, or at the very least expectant of, her disposition by now.

He simply took another drink, staring off into the distance, as if her words didn’t even register. She studied him carefully now, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the subtle slump in his usually rigid posture. It was clear—whatever had him in this state wasn’t about her.

The sight of him in this light, in this position at 4am… it stirred something in her. Roman was always so invincible, so unbreakable. Witnessing him this drained, this… human, pulled at her in a way she hadn’t expected.

She sighed again, this time not out of frustration, but pity. “Becky Lynch,” she said quietly, her fingers fidgeting with the glass. “That’s my contact.”

Roman finally turned to look at her, his brows narrowing. “Aiden’s daughter?”

Nate nodded, watching his expression closely. She could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to figure out why she, of all people, would be reaching out to someone deep in the bloodline of the very people she’s trying to catch out, fully knowing that there was a low chance of her actually being truthful. Roman wasn’t the type to ask for clarification outright, but the question was written all over his face. Why Becky Lynch?

Her exhausted eyes met his. “There’s literally nobody else,” she said, barely above a whisper. “No information anywhere that you can find that’ll be more helpful, more valuable than what comes from Becky. She also…” she paused for a second, “never really had a great relationship with her dad, so…”

Roman’s eyes narrowed, but not in anger. It was recognition. Maybe. He leaned back slightly, giving her a once over in that quiet, calculating manner he always had.

“So,” he murmured. “A bit like you then.”

Her heart gave an unexpected jolt, and for a moment, the silence between them felt more intimate, more charged than before. Roman wasn’t asking for more information, wasn’t pushing her for answers. He was simply… acknowledging something. Something they both understood but never talked about.

Nate leaned back into the couch, finally taking a sip of the whiskey Roman had handed her. It burned as it slid down her throat, and she grimaced slightly, setting the glass on the small table beside the couch. Her eyes drifted back to him, noticing how he hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything since his last comment. He just sat there, staring off into nothing.

It wasn’t hard to see that Roman’s mood had been exceptionally dark and volatile since she’d arrived—snapping at anyone and everyone who came near him. Whatever he was going through now was the comedown, the aftermath of exerting so much energy into being angry. Drained, like whatever had been pushing him to that edge had finally started to wear him down.

And for some reason, it bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

“So…” Nate started, crossing her arms and leaning forward, studying his expression. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you? Or are we just gonna sit here pretending that everything’s fine when you’ve been in a mood foul enough to scare off half your family?”

Roman’s eyes flitted in her direction, wordlessly contemplating whether or not to even bother with her question. She couldn’t blame him. Asking Roman to open up was probably more like trying to pry a locked door open with your bare hands—frustrating and usually pointless.

“I mean,” she continued, her tone more defensive, “It’s not because I care or anything. I just need you to be at one hundred percent. We need to figure out who’s responsible for the shipment. And whoever killed Priest isn’t gonna wait around while you throw temper tantrums.”

Nate expected him to snap back at her, to say something biting, but he just stared down at the whiskey in his glass, swirling the amber liquid around in slow, measured circles. The silence dragged on again, and she was starting to think he was going to ignore her completely when he finally spoke.

“I’m havin’... ex-wife issues,” Roman muttered, the words coming out like they’d been dragged from the back of his throat.

That was… unexpected. Nate raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. Ex-wife issues? The words didn’t even sound like they belonged in the same sentence as Roman Reigns. He seemed too… detached for something like that.

“You? Married?” she asked, her tone laced with playful disbelief, though she didn’t push too hard. “Now that’s a twist. Never pegged you for the type.”

Roman let out a dry, humourless chuckle, still not looking directly at her. “Yeah, me neither. I try not to regret it. But it’s hard not to when you’re dealin’ with… shit like this.”

Nate couldn’t help but smirk, though there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes. “Well, exes can be psychotic sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, this ex has filed a whole ass custody petition for our daughter,” Roman said, the words slipping out before he had a chance to catch them.

Nate blinked. And then blinked again.

Roman… had a daughter?

That was a hell of a thing to drop in the middle of the night like that.

“I didn’t realise you had a daughter,” she said softly, not teasing this time, just genuinely taken aback.

Roman finally looked at her, albeit with a mix of exhaustion and something else—maybe irritation, maybe resignation. “Yeah, well, you ain’t exactly someone I like to talk to.”

Void of venom, his words were just a blunt truth that Nate couldn’t argue with. They weren’t close, they weren’t even civil a majority of the time; why would they sit around and swap personal stories?

She pursed her lips, an unexpected pang of empathy arising. She knew what it was like to have family issues drag you through the mud, even if her circumstances were different. “I’m sorry,” she said, surprising even herself with the sincerity of the words. She wasn’t one to apologise much, especially not to someone like Roman.

Roman’s jaw tightened, but after a beat, he shook his head, as if trying to shake off the tension. “Nah. That was outta line. You didn’t deserve that.”

Nate chewed at the drying skin on her lower lip, shifting uncomfortably—not because of Roman, but because of the realisation that she actually… cared. About Roman’s situation. About how all of this was clearly affecting him more than he was letting on.

“I take it she’s causing trouble,” she said just above a whisper, looking down at her lap.

Roman huffed, leaning back and rubbing a hand across his jaw. “You could say that. Maria’s always been a problem. Thought I was done with her shit when we split, just had to deal with her when it was in Ava’s best interest. But… custody battles? That’s a whole different level of bullshit I ain’t ready for.”

“So, what does she want? Money?”

He shook his head, staring off into the distance again. “Nah, it ain’t about that. I think she just… wants control. Wants to prove I’m not a good father. That I’m too tied up in all this for shared custody.”

“I didn’t even know you had a kid,” she hummed, more to herself than to him. The thought of Roman’s stress being split between the business, the shipment, and the threat of losing his daughter to an ex-wife he clearly didn’t see eye-to-eye with—made her stomach twist a little. “Guess it makes sense, though. Why wouldn’t you want to keep that part of your life… separate?”

Roman’s gaze softened, just for a moment. “Yeah. You get it, right? Gotta protect what matters.”

Nate nodded slowly. She did understand. More than he knew. But there was no way she was going to spill her soul out to him. Even if he’d started to peel back a thin layer himself.

“Exes can be a real pain in the arse,” she said, her voice a little lighter now. “But it sounds like she’s going for the jugular with this one. Custody petitions? That’s not just a fight; that’s war.”

He let out a low grunt, tipping his head back and downing the rest of his whiskey in one smooth motion. “Yeah. And she ain’t exactly playin’ fair.”

With a small, almost menacing chuckle, she rested her arm on the back of the couch, leaning her head on her hand. “Well… it’s a good thing you don’t play fair either.”

That earned her a ghost of a smirk from Roman. “Damn straight.”

For the first time, the tension between them had eased enough that the conversation felt almost… normal. Almost.

Nate reached back to pick up her own glass, the burn of whiskey less harsh when she took another sip. “You gonna be alright with all this?”

Roman didn’t answer right away, just stared down at the empty glass in his hand. Contortions on his face mirrored his thoughts; twisted and sharp. “Yeah. I’ll handle it. Always do.”

She nodded, though a part of her wondered how much longer he could keep handling everything on his own without something giving way. But that wasn’t her problem to fix.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

The car slowed to a halt a couple of blocks from their destination, a gritty, rundown coffee shop on the corner of Houston Street and Essex in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. It was one of those places that had clearly seen better days—faded signage, chipped paint, and a few patrons who looked like they’d been sitting in the same seats for years. The kind of joint where no one asked questions and fewer paid attention. Perfect for a low-key meeting.

Nate shuffled awkwardly in the backseat, casting a sidelong glance at Tamina, who was silently checking over the small wire she was about to strap to Nate. Roman sat in the passenger seat, one hand draped lazily over the console while his gaze was fixed out the window, unreadable as usual. Paul was behind the wheel, ever the silent observer, but as always, his presence loomed large.

“I still don’t get why this is necessary,” Nate muttered under her breath in mild annoyance. “I could just tell you what Becky says afterwards.”

Roman responded with a small quirk of his mouth that suggested he was enjoying her discomfort far more than he should be. Tamina, on the other hand, was all business.

“You know the deal,” she said firmly, but not entirely unkind as she clipped the wire to Nate’s jacket. “We don’t trust anyone’s word, especially not when we don’t know them too well. We need to hear it in real-time.”

Nate rolled her eyes but didn’t argue further. It was pointless. Ever since she agreed to work with Roman, nothing had been straightforward, and they’d had her under more scrutiny than her father as of late. It came with strings, thick ones, and this was just one of them. If she was to talk to someone, it would be documented. Period.

“Yeah, I get that,” she sighed, glancing down at the wire now attached to the inside of her jacket. “But what, you think I’ll just forget a key detail? I’m not exactly an amateur with this kinda stuff.”

Roman’s low chuckle filled the car, breaking the quiet tension. “This ain’t about you being an amateur. It’s about making sure there ain’t any surprises. And trust me,” he added, his tone dripping with that familiar arrogant charm, “This’ll help you way more than you think. You’d rather us hear it now than grill you later, right?”

She shot him a look, unimpressed but also knowing he wasn’t entirely wrong. He had a way of bending the truth just enough to make it sound like he was doing her a favour. Typical Roman. She huffed, leaning back against the seat.

“I still don’t think it’s necessary.”

The smirk on his face grew slightly as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “You’ll get over it.”

Tamina finished adjusting the wire and sat back, satisfied with her work. She gave Nate a nod, signalling she was good to go. Paul shifted in the driver’s seat, speaking up for the first time since they’d gotten there.

“So,” he began, “Ms. Volkov. Where does your father think you are?”

Nate paused, her hand brushing over her leather-clad arm, smoothing out any folds. “A friend’s house,” she replied with a shrug, so nonchalantly.

“And that friend will back you up? Be your alibi?” Roman asked.

“Yep.” Nate didn’t look at him when she answered, her focus instead on the street outside. The wind moved the few sparse trees, a gust here and there, and she had a moment to breathe in the quiet before the meeting.

However, Roman wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her properly from the front seat. “You’re sure?”

Nate snapped her head to him, a flash of agitation sparking in her eyes. “Fuck’s sake, Roman, yes. I’ve done this before, my friend will back me up.”

He raised an eyebrow, holding her gaze for a beat longer before giving a slight nod. Tamina and Paul exchanged glances, their silent communication not lost on Nate. But before anyone could push further, Roman waved his hand dismissively. “Fine. I’m just making sure you don’t fuck this up.”

Nate rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to shield the little smirk on her face. “Trust me, I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to be.”

With everything set, Tamina gave Nate one last lok, almost a silent check to see if she was truly ready. Nate exhaled, her confidence steady, and nodded.

“Alright,” Tamina said. “You’re good to go. Just keep it cool, Zayn and the twins are a few blocks down in case anythin’ goes wrong.”

The younger woman gave her a quick hum of understanding before she opened the door and stepped out of the car. The midday sun was still muted, casting long shadows across the pavement. The streets were busier now, people going about their day unaware of the underworld dealings happening just a few feet away. Nate glanced back at the car for a moment, catching Roman’s gaze through the tinted window. He watched her like a hawk, and though she couldn’t see his expression fully, she could most definitely feel the weight of his eyes tracking her every move.

The silence stretched for a minute or so as Roman watched Nate walk away, disappearing and blending into the small spurts of people along the sidewalk. Paul cleared his throat, his fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel.

“She didn’t want to wear the wire, boss,” he commented cautiously, as if he were testing the waters.

Roman leaned back in his seat, his eyes still on the direction Nate had gone. “Yeah. I know.”

Tamina turned in her seat, her sharp cat-eyed gaze landing on Roman. “You think she’ll leave it on?”

With a slow exhale, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His face hardened, the lines of mild wisdom and fatigue strengthening in his expression. “I don’t know. But I guess we’re about to find out if our… Euro-Asian ally can really be trusted,” he muttered.

Nate had on her game face as she approached the small café where she was set to meet Becky, her pacing in line with the other pedestrians. Scanning every detail of her surroundings without looking like she was; she was experienced—did this more times than she could count—but this time felt a little more… personal. The last time she’d seen Becky, tensions had been at an all-time high, and the years of silence between them hadn’t dulled the edge of that old bitterness. If anything, it made the situation more volatile.

As she neared the entrance, she stopped for a second, adjusting her jacket just enough to make sure the wire stayed hidden. She ran her hands over her hair in an attempt to look more presentable, catching sight of unmistakable red hair from inside, standing out like a flare in the low light of the dim interior.

The bell on the door tinkled softly as she stepped inside. It was quiet, save for a few patrons scattered across the room, either lost in their laptops or deep in conversation. Nate clocked every exit, took note of where people were seated, and scanned the staff in the unlikely case that one of them was a plant. Old habits.

Becky didn’t look up immediately. She was seated at a corner table, nursing what looked like a coffee, her posture relaxed. You could feel the tension pulled taut between them, and when their eyes finally met, there was a brief flicker of recognition—more distant than familiar.

Nate approached cautiously, her boots making soft thuds against the hardwood floor, and took a seat across from Becky without a word.

“Long time,” Nate said, keeping her voice low and steady.

Becky smirked, taking a slow sip of her coffee before resting back. “Lucky you,” she began, her voice carrying that signature Irish lilt, “That I’m even here. Thought about telling you to fuck off, but… I wanted to see you. See how much like your father you’ve become.”

It appeared as though Nate kept her composure, but her hands balled up into tight fists under the table, bristling at such an insinuation. She could tell Becky meant every word. “He doesn’t even know I’m here, so…”

Becky raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. She leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “So what, you’re goin’ behind your da’s back now?” She scoffed, clearly not buying it. “You were always the loyal one. One hundred and ten percent Volkov, through and through. What’s changed?”

Nate hesitated for only a second, quickly catching herself. “It’s complicated. And none of your business.”

“Everything’s complicated with your family,” Becky eyed her carefully, her fingers tapping idly on her cup.

There was a pause, and the insinuation of their shared history hung over the two of them like a massive, dark cloud.

“I’m not here to talk about my dad,” Nate said, getting straight to the point. “I’ve got a situation. A shipment stolen. Damian Priest, dead in the process. Bad Bunny’s compound was ambushed. Irish flag on the car. I need answers, Becky.”

The redhead across from her didn’t betray much conclusion on her face, but she did display a brief flicker of familiarity at the mention of Priest. Letting the information sink in, she lowered her gaze to the table.

After what felt like an eternity, she shrugged.

That simple gesture made Nate’s chest tighten in rage. “A shrug?” Her voice rose a little. “That’s all you’ve got for me? A fucking shrug?”

Becky met Nate’s anger with cool indifference, drinking more of her coffee before answering. “I don’t know what to tell you, Nate.”

“You can tell me why your family is still fucking with us after all this time. Because I swear to God, if this is about some old gru—”

“My family didn’t do shit.”

“Sure as hell looks like it.”

Becky’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, her icy demeanour cracked. “My family isn’t even in the States anymore.”

Nate froze, her brows knitting. “What?”

“You heard me,” Becky said, dropping her voice an octave. “We left. After what your da pulled… my father hasn’t been the same. You want to know why you haven’t heard from us? It’s because we haven’t been here. My family’s been in Ireland for years. My da’s in a fuckin’ wheelchair. And believe me, we ain’t coming back.”

This wasn’t adding up.

“No,” Nate shook her head. “You… They have to be here. None of this makes sense otherwise.”

Becky shook her head, exasperation etched all over. “After your da took over X, mine was done. He’s been out of the game since then. It’s a round-the-clock job for whoever looks after him now, there’s no fuckin’ way my family’s involved in whatever bullshit you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“My father is not to blame for that,” Nate found herself defending her dad, hating that her family was being blamed period. “He did what he had to do. If it hadn’t been him, it would’ve been someone else. That’s how this business works, Becky, you know that.”

Gaze hardening, Becky leaned forward as her voice dropped to a growl. “His moves, his ‘business’ nearly killed my dad. He had a stroke after his blood pressure got too high. You want to defend him? Fine. But you don’t know what it’s like to watch your da waste away. Good relationship, or not.” She took a deep, shaky breath, calming herself. “It would’ve been more dignified to put a bullet in his head than to let him end up like this.”

The brutal honesty of Becky’s statement momentarily stunned Nate. But she wasn’t here to dwell on the past or the people they’d lost along the way, nor was she here to play catch-up, to offer her sympathy. She had a job to do.

“Why are you here then?” she asked more curiously than accusatory. “If your family’s back home, why are you still in the States?”

“That’s none of your business.” Becky crossed her arms.

But Nate wasn’t stupid. She’d noticed the small details—the subtle changes in Becky’s appearance, the way she carried herself. Most importantly, the ring on her left hand.

“You’re married,” Nate casually commented, observing Becky’s face closely. “Congratulations.”

“Don’t make it sound like it matters to you.”

“It must be someone important if nobody can find anything about you anymore. Must have taken a lot to disappear so cleanly.”

And there it was. She had the upper hand.

“So,” she continued insistently, “You’re telling me that whoever ambushed us, whoever killed Damian Priest, and whoever stole our shipment… it wasn’t the Irish?”

Becky met her gaze head-on, her eyes clear and resolute. “My family hasn’t returned since they were chased out. I’m the only one left because I don’t want anything to do with it anymore.”

Nate sat back, letting Becky’s words settle. For all the hostility, all the unresolved history between them, she believed her. It was in her tone. The inflictions. The way her eyes stayed confidently locked onto Nate’s as she pleaded her case.

“I’m sorry, Nate,” Becky sighed, looking away for the first time. “I wish I had more for you, but I don’t. My family’s outta this. And so am I.”

Tensions were rising back in the SUV. How could the Irish not be involved? It was their flag, for fuck’s sake! It seemed like everytime they got closer to an answer, it was ripped out from under them. And Roman just wanted to know where his half was—where his weaponry ended up! Who the fuck would be so audacious as to fuck with The Bloodline, and the Volkovs.

Paul leaned closer to the speakers. “What do you think, boss? You buy what Lynch is saying?”

Roman’s jaw clenched, nose flaring a little. “I don’t know yet. But Nate’s got history with her. She’ll know if it’s bullshit.”

“You trust her?” Tamina asked, raising her brows.

“I trust that she’s as desperate as we are right now. That’s good enough—for now.”

It seemed as though Nate and Becky’s conversation was coming to a close, and just as Tamina was readying the boxes that had contained the wire, Becky spoke again.

“How have you been holding up since…”

Her voice trailed off, and Roman furrowed his eyebrows. He exchanged a glance with Paul, who was equally puzzled. They didn’t know what Becky was referring to, but it was clear that whatever it was, it struck a nerve with Nate.

“Fine,” Nate’s voice responded, but even through the static, Roman could hear the lie; he’d grown used to hearing when someone was holding back on the truth.

“Lyin’ ass,” he muttered under his breath.

“Are you sure about that?” Becky pressed on, not letting Nate slip away so easily.

The pause between question and response felt like it lasted forever, and Roman picked up on the uneven rhythm of Nate’s breathing.

“Yeah,” she finally said, albeit rather flat. Clearly wanting to end this conversation. But Becky wasn’t done.

“Did you find out who did it?”

Roman shot Paul a glance. “Who did what?”

Paul shook his head, indicating he had no idea what the fuck they were talking about either.

Nate’s response was barely audible. “No.”

“You haven’t tried?” Becky asked again, her tone betraying a sense of disbelief.

“Dad tried in the beginning,” Nate admitted. “But I think it got too much for him. And now… it’s like she never even existed.”

Roman’s frown deepened. She? Whoever they were talking about, whatever they were talking about, they were way past the topic of the Irish, the shipment, and the ambush. It was personal. He tried to piece together what was going on, thinking back to the limited conversations he and Nate had shared since agreeing to work with each other. The only one that came to mind was the way her disposition switched entirely at the mention of her mother, back when they paid Bunny’s men a visit.

“Are you still trying?”

There was a long silence, causing Roman to impatiently lean forward as though it was going to drag the answer from the speakers. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling out of control, and right now, that’s exactly what this conversation was doing to him. He hated it.

Finally, there was an answer. “Yes….”

“And how’s that going?” Becky’s question felt like a final blow, digging into an old wound.

Nate let out a bitter laugh. “A load of bollocks.”

The sound of her frustration was so familiar by this point, so raw, that her accent tickled him in a way it hadn’t in the past. He smirked, despite the severity of the task at hand, mumbling, “Love how she says that shit…”

Paul raised an eyebrow at Roman’s sudden amusement but said nothing. The humour quickly faded, and Roman’s expression returned to its more guarded state.

As the conversation continued, there was a sudden long pause. The crackling of the wire grew louder, and for a moment, the car was drowned in absolute silence. Roman squinted at the speakers.

“You think the wire’s been cut?” Paul asked, looking between the speakers and Roman.

Tamina leaned forward, tense concern taking over her features. “Shit, maybe she took it off. Didn’t want us hearing the rest.”

“Nah,” Roman quickly shook his head. “She wouldn’t do that. Not after what’s already been said.”

The silence dragged on. Roman’s fingers drummed against the dashboard, his patience thinning. But then, the Irish lilt cut through the quiet with a soft sigh.

“If you get stuck, truly stuck,” she began, “Contact me. I think I know someone who might be able to help you with… all that.”

Narrowing his brows, Roman’s attention was once again fully captured.

“No guarantees, though,” Becky added cautiously. “But there’s a possibility.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tamina huffed, holding her hands up in an open gesture, as if the answer would fall into her lap.

“Take care of yourself, Nate. And please… don’t end up like Dimitri.”

The static crackled again with the sound of rustling, movement, and muffled farewells.

“The hell was that?” Tamina asked.

“The hell do I know?” Roman bit back, just as frustrated and puzzled as his cousin.

“Not exactly the intel we were looking for, but… i-it could be useful,” Paul reasoned.

Tamina glanced between Roman and Paul. “You think she’s hiding something?”

“I don’t know what it is,” Roman took a deep breath, “But she doesn’t like talkin’ about it. It’s personal. And I need to know everything if I’m gonna trust her.”

“Sir,” Paul cleared his throat, “Ms Lynch didn’t seem deceitful.”

“I’m not disagreeing with that, Wise Man.” He turned his head to look at his special counsel. “But the less we know about Volkov’s situation, the more at risk we are at gettin’ fucked by it.”

Heyman paused, trying to hold back the smile on his face at Roman’s mindset. He’d seen this man grow up. Knew his family for decades. He always knew that he’d be a smart, head-strong leader, just following in the footsteps of those who came before him, and to have been even a tiny part of that… It was his greatest achievement. Roman was his greatest achievement.

The sound of one of the car doors opening startled the silence that had taken over the space, and Roman’s eyes snapped over to Nate sliding back in the car, her face set on neutral—as if she hadn’t just been through a conversation that had rattled her to the core.

Roman waited until she’d closed the door and the tension simmered. “How’d it go?” he asked calmly.

Her eyes only met his for a millisecond, before settling back out the window. “It went.”

“That’s all you got?” He raised an eyebrow.

Nate sighed, leaning back. “She gave me what she could. It’s not much, but it’s more than we had before.” Even though her confidence had been shaken by the unexpected topic brought up by Becky, it was still gnawing at her just how wrong she was about the whole thing. The Irish. It wasn’t them. She was so sure of it, too. So entirely set on her theory, which she saw as anything but.

And she was wrong.

“You don’t look too convinced,” Roman probed, shooting his cousin and Paul a glance.

Nate shrugged. “Becky’s out. It’s not her or her family.”

Her nonchalance grated against Roman’s patience like nails on a chalkboard. “And this other stuff you were talkin’ about with her?”

“It’s personal,” she answered perhaps a little too quickly. Too insistent. The two word substitution for a much harsher two word command: shut up.

Roman’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he finally turned back around, letting it go—for now. “Fine.”

But he’d get it out of her. One way or another.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

The ride back to Roman’s house had been mostly quiet. Nate was lost in thought, processing everything that had just transpired with Becky. Roman, Paul, and Tamina sensed the shift in her mood—not like she was doing much to hide it, though.

As soon as the car stopped, Nate stepped out, honestly wanting to just get back home and go to sleep. This was supposed to be a quick meeting the day before, and it had turned into a twenty-four hour affair. It was time to head back—back to the life she’d been trying to balance alongside this chaos. She instantly moved toward the borrowed car she drove here, ready to leave, but unlike the others, Roman stayed outside.

He leaned casually against the side of the car, arms folded, watching Nate as she fished for the keys from her pocket. She stood with her back to the house, car behind her, mind anywhere else.

“So your contact was useless,” Roman said with a steady edge, as if he already knew which direction the conversation would go.

Nate glared at him out of the corner of her eyes. “She wasn’t useless.”

“Sure sounded like it.”

“Then you only heard what you wanted to hear. She knows someone that could help, does she not?”

The firmness in her tone halted further instigating by Roman. It wasn’t the first time she’d stood her ground with him, but this was a little more intense here. Sure, she felt she was losing control over her life. But this was the first time, in that life, that she felt she was losing control over an investigation. Such an unfamiliar feeling. Usually, her father was there, his plans guiding her actions. Usually, she’d be in control of what her role was. Now, she wasn’t sure what her role was, or if control even existed anymore.

Roman narrowed his eyes at her, reading the strain in her body, the square in her shoulders. “So what, you think this someone that Becky mentioned is gonna solve all of this?”

Nate huffed. “No. But it’s something. And right now, we don’t have a lot of ‘something,’ do we?”

She wasn’t backing down, and he could sense it—the way he, too, was losing control. He was no longer steering things. Standing here, listening to Nate, something shifted, however. It wasn’t a power struggle, not anymore. The harsh reality hit him—she wasn’t Dimitri Volkov. Not cut from the same cloth. And part of her seemed almost relieved about that.

Roman saw it. She wasn’t just standing up to him; she was holding herself together, barely.

“Whoever she mentioned,” Nate began softly, “Might be worth having a look at.”

His jaw tightened and he took a deep breath, running his hand over his beard. He hated the idea of relying on people outside the Bloodline, of being forced to put an ounce of trust in someone he didn’t know. It was bad enough with Nate. “You’re sayin’ we should?”

“Well, it’s either that,” she jumped in bluntly, holding his gaze, “Or accept the fact we got fucked over and deal with knowing we didn’t try our hardest to get to the bottom of it.”

Roman stared at her, taking in the truth behind her words. He hated it, but she wasn’t wrong. They had been hit from all sides, and every lead had dried up before they could act. Nate was standing there, pushing him—yet there was something else in her expression. Something he hadn’t really seen in her before.

Defeat.

Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were dulled by it. Her stance, usually confident and controlled, seemed to sag ever so slightly. The misery etched in her features struck him harder than expected. Was this what he looked like earlier that morning? Did he look this… pathetic?

Nate broke the silence, her tone lighter but laced with finality. “Anyway, I’m gonna go.”

She took a step toward the car, her hand reaching for the door handle, but Roman continued.

“Ah, back to being the perfect daughter, perfect fiancée…” His voice was smoother, more teasing than he probably intended, and for the first time in their tumultuous back-and-forth, he wasn’t doing it to bait her. He didn’t even realise he was doing it at all.

She paused, turning her head toward him, her lips twitching into a small smile despite herself. “Perfect? You’re really pushing it, Reigns.”

“Well, isn’t that the story?” he chuckled. “Y’know… white dress, fairytale ending? Every ‘lil girl’s dream?”

Her smirk cracked into a proper smile. “Don’t tell me you’re that naive, Mr. Head of the Table. Besides, I highly doubt your version of a fairytale has anything in common with mine.”

Roman tilted his head, the charming grin of his slipping into place. “Maybe not. But who knows? Could surprise you, Volkov.”

Nate rolled her eyes but found herself stalling, her hand resting on the car’s handle without pulling it open. “Yeah, well, good luck with that, bol’shoy chelovek.”

She could see the bob of his Adam’s apple, rippling as he swallowed. It sent a little rush of excitement through her to see his unrestrained reaction to her Russian. She’d suspected his enjoyment before, but it was like he wasn’t even hiding it now.

Opening the car door, she hesitated once more. Roman’s eyes were absolutely glued to her, and before she could get in and close the door completely, he leaned down slightly, his voice dropping into a serious tone.

“Get in contact if you hear anything else,” he said. “We’ll figure out our next moves.”

Nate nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. Will do.”

She slid into the driver’s seat, her movements slow, and Roman stepped back, watching as she settled behind the wheel. For a second, neither of them moved, neither willing to break the strange, new rhythm they’d found themselves in. Roman’s arms crossed over his chest as he gave her one final look, a more pliable glimmer behind his otherwise cold, empty eyes.

Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, Nate pulled the door shut. But when it came time to start the engine and actually pull away… she couldn’t do it. Held back by… something. Not exhaustion, no… It wasn’t even the idea of going back home to her father.

It was the fact that leaving here felt harder than it should have.

As she pulled away, she swore she heard him tell her to “drive safe.” Like he cares what happens…

But Roman had seen it. The reluctance in her eyes, the same hesitation that had started to creep into his own thoughts. And instantaneously, he realised something else. Something he never thought would push itself to the forefront of his thoughts.

He didn’t like watching her leave, either.

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cimmerian1275 · 25 days ago

Text

A little insight from me when it comes to drawing

Over the past year or so, ive gotten allot of people asking me "how do u do that?/i dont understand how you can draw this??" & "how do you draw so fast?" & "i wish i could be as productive as you" & "how are you so good at art?" <- to name a few of the most common comments i get.

——————

I never have a good answer for that in the moment because i overthink and spiral. But i can ramble my thoughts about it here.

I dont THINK i draw very fast, comparatively to some other people my art style/method that ive developed up over the years actually makes drawing for me take longer than it would for someone else.

Theres definitely artists out there who take a longer time to draw than me, and artists out there who can draw much faster than me.

But for me personally? Im probably somewhere in the middle.

I technically do draw very fast with the amount of details i can add in a short span of time, but 50% of the time spent drawing is actually me sketching, adjusting the sketch, using the liquify tool, resizing and rotating things a bunch of times, resketching the sketch and basically creating a whole rough draft of the artwork before i even begin drawing the actual lineart.

If my artwork took 2 hours to complete, i can guarantee you the first hour was just the sketch.

And after explaining that 👆 it makes it easier to explain "how are you so good at art?". For me, being good at art is... tough to explain because the way i view "good art" is probably different to how others think it is. Itll be a long info dump but ill circle back to that at the end.

——————

I unfortunately have a bit of a perfectionist streak and a very spur of the moment "if i can, why not?" attitude and that heavily influences my art. This is where being neurodivergent (think adhd, autism) becomes a very important factor to consider during my art process:

If the inspiration hits me to draw *something* in a cool dynamic pose that the art gods just beamed into my brain, ill go "ohhh hey that would look awesome!" which then turns into "why not draw that right now? whats stopping me?" ill pause whatever im doing and leap into sketching out that idea. I am a tragedy when it comes to impulse control.

This part is where i inevitably get doomed by my own brain xD

I have two options ahead of me:

1, 'Start drawing right now before the idea runs away' OR 2, 'Let that idea float around in my head for a few weeks, procrastinating how awesome it would be but never actually act on it'

And when i pick option 1?

Ill forget and drop whatever half baked plans i had for the day, ill forget i havent had anything to eat in the last 10 hours, ill forget i should probably go outside and touch grass. Ill lock in, grab my pen and get comfortable because i wont be moving for a couple of hours.

Ill leap into sketching that idea while its still hot, because i know if i just sit there and let myself procrastinate about it, ill never actually draw anything.

I can spend around 2 - 5 hours on average just non-stop drawing when it comes to bigger projects. I absolutely suck at taking breaks, and i only ever do when i get thirsty or begin to feel my brain telling me it needs some enrichment (which is usually just getting up for a snack or drink). Take this with a grain of salt because im no professional or psychologist, but i like to think that i have found my own personal ways weaponize my adhd/autism to aid me with art.

(Lots of people are probably going to relate to what i say next, so buckle up! I need to do some explaining first so you can understand how my brain works)

I tend to lose focus, SO EASILY, i can switch up conversations really fast without a sweat and enjoy it. I can be reading, listening/humming to a song, and have a secret third option where a corner of my brain is thinking of fanfic and art ideas all at the same time. Ill zone out in the middle of a book, a show, an artwork, and start procrastinating about the randomest of things. Ill spend a good couple of minutes trying to stack my pillows just right to sit in a comfortable posture, ill get pissed off if theres itchy fabric brushing against my drawing arm and ill drop everything to fix that, ill keep fluffing up that blanket on my lap until its in the exact right position.

These things often make it difficult for me to sit down, get focused, and start drawing...

But i actually have a good list of tricks that make it possible for me to avoid distractions and comfortably lock in on drawing. And oh boy, when i lock in i reeaaaallly lock in.

——————

Some common problems i face when drawing, that you might have trouble with aswell:

🔶 Ill have an art idea hit me, but by the time i open up the program i use to draw its already nyoooomed back into the void it came from: IT SUCKS!! I lost the idea and cant grasp it in my imagination :C but ive got a strategy i use to grip that idea and keep it in my head long enough for me to draw. And its MUSIC. I love scrolling my playlist for the right song/playlist that fits the "vibe" of what im trying to draw, and i often associate an artwork to a specific song. Some examples of what happens when i just looped 1 song (or playlist) the entire time as i drew it: - 'Odysseus' - 'King Of The World' - 'Falling Feels A Little Like Your Flying' - 'Let The Wind Carry Us' - 'Gold' - 'First Flight/Flight Over Alps' - 'To The Ends Of The Earth' For ALL of these big artworks, i owe so much to music for enabling me to lock in and get that idea down on paper. Not every artwork is based on 1 song though, sometimes ill just have a playlist on shuffle in the background instead as i draw away. I find music helps slow down and focus my thoughts long enough for me to imagine what im actually trying to draw.

🔶 Ill stop midway drawing and lose focus, just zone out for seemingly no reason: Ive discovered when that happens for me, ive simply gotten lost in a decision making process at some point while i was drawing. When i eventually notice ive zoned out, i pause what im doing and take a step back to think... "What was i trying to do earlier?" -> I was trying to decide what part of the artwork i was going to draw next, theres a few things i rlly wanna draw now but i can only pick one! I got lost imagining how both options would look when i do them, and once id stopped to procrastinate about those my thoughts had taken the wheel and spiraled into a ditch instead of actually going ahead and drawing it. This is really common in my case, and its often about 5 songs later that ive noticed im just sitting here staring into space thinking about a fanfic i read 2 months ago and how much i loved it, and not working on the artwork in front of me xD

🔶 Ive lost the motivation to start/finish an artwork/project: Happens all the time, and its horrible, i have projects, commissions and owed art that people are waiting for... yet i cant seem to find the will to work on them. I dont really have advice for this, but i want to drop some wisdom on you and say that Its okay if you cant seem to draw that right now. You dont need to put everything else on hold to finish this, you can start a fresh project instead of continuing that old one thats looming at you from the corner of your files. Dont allow yourself to feel burdened and pressured to complete something, dont let the mere thought of losing motivation turn something you love to do into something you hate. (this is probably not effective advice for anything with a due date, but it can still help in a roundabout way) Ive come to think that when youve lost motivation, your brain is simply just still loading the ideas and motivation, theyll come to you in time. Its like waiting for a massive game to install or update, its going to take a while, but youll still get it in the end. When your motivation finally returns, you can be satisfied that youll enjoy what your drawing again! Maybe you just needed a break from it, maybe your brain needed a moment to work up the courage.

I still have artworks that are MONTHS in the making, and that people are still waiting for, but im content to know what when my motivation returns to finish those ill actually be able to put genuine effort and joy into completing them. Meanwhile, ill keep drawing what im currently motivated for so that i dont get rusty <3

🔶 ARTBLOCK!!! *falls into the void/dies for a month* The thing thats always peeking over my shoulder and asking if its time.... From my perspective, i perceive art block TWO ways:

Exhausted mentally, burnt out <- OR -> Literally art-blocked, your stuck without ideas, trapped in a rut D:

Exhausted and burnt out? Too dead inside to draw? Thats the universe knocking on your door saying you reeaaally need to take a vacation, listen to it. Burning out is NOT fun, and the longer you push past your limits the longer youll have to spend recovering from it. Having breaks for a couple days to a week every once in a while does wonders for my sanity.

Literally facing art-block, ideas not idea-ing? Ive discovered that my brain is asking for enrichment when i face that, it wants to try something new and exiting and fresh, it wants to stretch its muscles and stop drawing the same old boring stuff youve been drawing for the past couple of weeks.

Try drawing in a new artstyle!! Maybe change what brushes you draw lineart with, make them thicker, or thinner? Try a brush with a unique texture to it. Draw with a smaller/larger canvas than usual, participate in a daily art challenge or event? Spontaneously draw someones OC that you like. You just need a breath of fresh air and to mix things up a little bit <3

🔶 Hyperfixating so much that i forget to take care of myself: Half the time I WILL get really bad hyperfixation on a bigger artwork because im in the zone and i locked in too hard that its become obsessive, and it often feels like...

"If i dont finish this or keep drawing, my anxiety spikes like theres something after me and theres this unwarranted sense of NEED to do good and get that artwork done"

Thats the big driving force that gets me to be productive with my art. Depending on how you view it, it can be seen as a good or bad thought process. This is usually a good heads up that im getting close to a burn out when im finally done with that artwork, and i really NEED a break. Stop for lunch, or dinner, grab a snack and walk around a bit.

——————

To the people who say: "how are you so good at art? how do you do that?", "i wish i could be as productive as you", "tell me how/teach me your ways"

Im gonna be sappy and say its NOT straightforward and this is definitely not the answer youd expect, but im good at what i do because ive taken time to look at myself and understand how my own brain works.

Im good at art because ive spent all this time getting SUPER introspective, picking my own brain apart and discovering that: "when i do this, it makes me enjoy drawing! If this makes it enjoyable it means i can draw more" and that ultimately leads to "When im able to draw more, im constantly growing and improving my skills from all of the experiences im gaining, i now have the motivation and passion to do THIS because im actively enjoying it"

If i know what distracts me, what makes me lose motivation, what causes me to burn out, what i dont enjoy drawing... and ive learned ways to overcome those obstacles? Thats what i think enables me to be a good artist and be so productive.

Im gonna be cliche and say LOTS of practice is also literally the only reason why im where im at today. Sure, i already had a boost at the beginning because i was naturally artistic and its probably genetic somehow with all the artistically talented people in my family, but its because ive put work into refining those skills and honing them that theyre actually GOOD. They would be useless if i hadnt done anything to build them up.

You dont need to have a predestined skillset to become good at art, your just a little behind and have a longer learning curve. Ive watched a close friend of mine over about 5 years, go from really bad scribbles and awkward looking doodles to practicing and discovering they have a really good knack for colors and shapes.

I like to think "whats actually stopping me from learning to draw?", whats stopping me from downloading an art app and messing around, whats stopping me from doodling in the corner of a book, whats stopping me from stealing sticky notes and scribbling on them, whats stopping me from wanting to improve more and more? Too many people are close-minded and negative with "i dont have any devices to draw on" so what? grab a book and pen, i started with traditional art myself. "But i dont have pens or drawing books?" that sucks, but whats stopping you from grabbing a stick and even drawing in the dirt or sand or snow?

#cimmerian1275 #cimmers rambles #cimmers art tips #haha get hit with a wall of text #feeling really introspective and nostalgic today soooo... info dump of all my thoughts that ive never shared before

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ultraflavour · 9 months ago

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Why there won't be a repeat of the 4E/Pathfinder Era

It's the year 2011. The sentiment on 4th Edition has badly soured with a large portion of the D&D-playing audience, and there's not much else going on in the fantasy sphere.

Dungeon World and Star Wars: Edge of the Empire aren't coming until 2012, and 13th Age won't be for another year after that. But there is one product line at the FLGS that's been getting a lot of buzz, and if you were around at this time, you know exactly what I'm talking about: Pathfinder.

But here's the problem. You, the hypothetical person in this situation, were still kind of having fun with 4th Edition. It didn't seem so bad that the world needed to abandon it outright, but apparently it did.

Now, don't get me wrong. 4th Edition had PROBLEMS. It's not that weird that it collapsed in the way that it did. I'm not going to get into a substantive rules breakdown here, but suffice to say, it needed a refresh. And whatever "D&D Essentials" was, it wasn't enough.

But keep in mind, this is 2011. The online tools required for randoms to play games with each other safely are on the horizon, but they are not here yet. We're still using MapTool. God damn, raise your hand if you remember fucking MapTool. Your options for who to play games with are the same people you'd always been playing games with. So if the group wants to switch games, you're switching games.

"It Feels Too Much Like a Video Game"

But now a new problem arises: Those people need to either make the case for Pathfinder, or make the case against 4th Edition. In 2011, most D&D players do not have anything close to the language they need to articulate what they actually like in TTRPGs, nor form any sort of coherent critical analysis of either system.

Furthermore, you can have a substantive rules discussion about 4th Edition all you want, but how does anyone know that Pathfinder is going to be any better? Until you've actually switched to it and you know what it's all about, you only know that it's "3.75 edition." So there's no real way to know if Pathfinder actually addresses the problems that 4th Edition created until you play it.

So, unable to make the conversation about the rules, Team Pathfinder has to resort to using a Razor. You need a statement that is so undeniable, so impervious to any attempt at refutation that it completely shuts down the argument entirely. And thus you arrive at "It feels too much like a video game."

I have a lot of feelings about this phrase. At the time I was going to school for Computing Science, with the intention of entering the games industry. Video games were not evil to me. So the idea that D&D feeling like a video game did not really register. Surely, that just meant that video games had started to mimic D&D. The Paladin class in World of Warcraft has "Lay on Hands" for god's sake.

Nevertheless, this line of reasoning worked, and part of the reason why it worked was because there was no real way to argue against it. 4th Edition had introduced mechanics from World of Warcraft such as "Tanks" that could "Taunt," and what basically amounted to "Cooldowns" that would refresh conveniently just in time for the next encounter. So that part could not be refuted.

But at the same time, so what? That was just D&D harvesting back ideas from a game that had pretty much used 3rd Edition as the basis for its entire class design. If 4th Edition felt like WoW, that's because WoW felt like D&D.

But it stuck, and Pathfinder enjoyed the most success it would see until probably 2023. 4th Edition fans the world over grumbled, put their Player's Handbook 3s away, and bookmarked the Archives of Nethys. (Yeah, I agreed to play Pathfinder, but I wasn't paying a single red cent for those books. Sorry Paizo, but I did get you back later with Starfinder.)

The OGL is a Flat Circle

Something we were not really "online" to at the time was also the GSL situation. You had to be deep in the forums at that time to understand what was going on, and hahahahahaha absolutely not.

Long story short, the GSL was WotC's first attempt at clamping down on the OGL in preparation for a digital toolset. Sound familiar? Well it happened pretty much the exact same way, except for one crucial difference: They didn't revoke the original OGL. I guess they just kind of assumed that everyone would move over to 4th Edition of their own volition, once 4th had conquered the world. Oops.

The sad part is that there was a Digital Toolset that was apparently the whole reason for doing the GSL in the first place, and it never materialized (For a pretty crazy reason, look it up if you want but it's not for the faint of heart). But this is another way in which history rhymes, because as soon as Wizards thought it had a hit on their hands, they tried to push it into the digital realm, where they could control how players interacted with their product.

So because of this situation, Pathfinder was able to basically reprint the 3rd Edition rules with some touchups and release it as their own product. They simply kept authoring the game under the (still valid) OGL 1.0, and nobody ever moved over to the GSL because thanks to Pathfinder, they didn't have to accept the much more restrictive terms of the new agreement.

This also meant that the "new hotness" was a game built on the bones of a game we had already been playing for nearly a decade. We opened the door of the sleek new sports car only to reveal that it was last year's model with a spruced up dashboard and a new suspension. It was still very much that game, and it brought with it that game's problems, many of which 4th Edition had at least gone some of the way toward solving.

It wouldn't be so galling, but when Pathfinder was pitched to me, I was assured that it had addressed the problems of 3.5e, and it very much had not. It had made meaningful improvements, don't get me wrong, but those improvements were not enough to make up for the system that I had walked away from to get to that point.

The Compromise Choice

5th Edition rode over the hill like Gandalf and the Riders of Rohan. I had a preorder copy waiting for me at the local Chapters in the Metrotown Mall. I remember it well, because I was very excited to pick it up.

People who think of 5E as this dominant, conquering force who weren't around before the Critical Role era might not realize that not everybody was on the 5E train right from the get-go. It had made a lot of controversial removals that some of the more devout Pathfinder believers balked at: Gone flanking, gone skill points, gone (most) feats. Gone stacking +2 bonuses, all replaced with some nebulous thing called "Advantage."

But what was left was a much leaner machine. Combats in 5E were downright breezy compared to Pathfinder and even 4th Edition. The narrative-forward features that many had criticized 4th Edition for removing were back.

But also notably absent were a lot of the features that people liked in 4th Edition, like the "Bloodied" condition, skill challenges and Minions. WotC could not have another 4E on their hands with this one, so it had to look at feel the way people remembered it when they actually liked the game.

So, we compromised in the interest of finally bringing everyone to the table again. Eventually the 1-2 punch of Critical Role and Stranger Things led to the game ballooning into the giant that nobody knew it could be. By the release of Xanathar's Guide to Everything in 2017, the 5E era was well and fully underway, and it had gained such a lead that it would be almost impossible for any independent company to catch up.

Vomiting in Stanzas

But as ol' George Lucas would say, history is like poetry, it rhymes. And so, eyeing the digital landscape once again, Wizards of the Coast blasted its own dick and balls off with a shotgun in January 2023 with the OGL crisis, shattering a long-held truce with its third party creators.

And so once again, with Wizards of the Coast dangling its 3rd party creators over the ledge like John Matrix in Commando, it was up to Pathfinder to save the day. Months worth of stock flew off the shelves in a matter of weeks, as once again the D&D community was left to answer the question of "What are we to do if D&D fails us?"

Except this time, things were different for my table. Because we had been proactive. About a year prior, I had already been getting a bit tired of interminable D&D 5E, and my group was ready for something new. We made a surprising discovery that changed a lot about how I thought about the TTRPG industry as a whole.

Lancer was like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. Up until we played Lancer, we had attempted a lot of different systems but none of them had stuck. Dungeon World, Blades in the Dark, Warhammer 40k: Wrath and Glory, Star Wars Edge of the Empire, all thrown on the heap. None of those could replace D&D for us, for various reasons.

Lancer, on the other hand, was clearly made by people who were fans of the same parts of D&D that I was. The part where it forced you to play on a grid, drawing templates, glorious keywords. And perhaps most importantly, every mech had something approaching the concept of "Powers" that had been lost in the move from 4th to 5th.

And it was just fun. It had rules that enforced a 3-4 fight per level pacing that actually made the concept of attrition much more predictable than the loosey-goosey "let's just take a long rest now so we have all our spell slots" approach of 5E. And it forced us to actually finish adventures using a mission-like structure, tempering our worst DM impulses to just let things drag on and on in the interest of an "epic" story.

But what really struck me was that Lancer was written and maintained by such a small team. The majority of the combat mechanics were written and designed by Tom Parkinson-Morgan, who previously had been mostly known as the author of Kill Six Billion Demons.

This was not a case of some tenured TTRPG company dropping their masterpiece and shocking the world. This was a scrappy upstart conquering the Itch.io charts because, and I quote, "People are horny for mechs." Not only were they able to offer a digital toolset that rivals (and in some ways exceeds) the one that the billion-dollar company could put together, they also were able to get their product onto bookstore shelves this year thanks to a strategic partnership with Dark Horse.

It meant that brands other than the big, established players could do exactly what they did, and in some cases, better. It changed the game, literally.

Our Cup Runneth Over

So now, with the OGL 1.1 unpleasantness sending the brand of D&D firmly into the "uncool zone" once more, the D20 Fantasy community returns to Pathfinder with hat in hand.

But this is the part where things have changed.

Because this time we actually have options beyond just "Pathfinder, again." Want more of a "retro" Dungeon Crawler? There's Shadowdark, and the rest of the OSR that's been humming along in the background! Want something a bit more on the storytelling side of things? There's Fabula Ultima, or any number of PbtAs or Forged in the Dark games.

And if you, like me, are still mourning the death of 4th Edition, now there's Draw Steel from MCDM, which is taking up that banner and waving it for the sad dorks like me to rally under. And a cry rings out: "4th Edition was not perfect but it was actually pretty fun and Pathfinder wasn't really a suitable substitute!" It doesn't fit too well on a t-shirt, we can workshop it.

In a way, the 4E/Pathfinder scenario has flipped: This time, the incumbent in the election is the game that's built on "the old ways," and the incoming contenders are the ones who are making the bigger swings. It changes the conversation considerably when "the consensus choice" is also the one based on the oldest ideas. Its proponents don't really have an argument to make beyond "It's what we've always done, don't rock the boat."

Golarion's Strongest Soldiers

But perhaps more importantly, the group doesn't need to all agree on a game any more. It's never been more viable to find a pickup game on the internet than it is right now.

I've been giving Pathfinder a lot of shit this article, but I'm actually playing in a PF2E game on Sundays right now. I wanted to give 2nd Edition a shot to see if they had actually changed the parts of the game that I was most unhappy about and... Well, frankly they haven't, but that's not really a problem at this point.

Now that OGL mania has subsided and the incoming wave of PF2e players has somewhat crested, the people who have remained are the ones who didn't crawl back to 5E once it was deemed "safe" to do so. Those who have remained are the people who actually want to be there, rather than the ones who compromised for the sake of group harmony. Otherwise they'd just be playing 5E, again.

No More Compromise

That's the future that we should be moving towards, a future where nobody has to compromise for the sake of the group. 30,000 people backed the MCDM game on Backerkit, and the video where the Critical Role team makes Daggerheart characters currently has over 900,000 views on Youtube. The OGL didn't just fracture the D&D community, it created whole new ones.

Plus, there's a whole industry of indie creators who are begging for recognition. Review channels like Quinns Quest, Dave Thaumavore, and Questing Beast are increasing awareness about smaller titles, to the point where it's becoming less and less of an excuse to say that you don't know what's out there.

All that's required now is for those people to find each other, and Discord makes that really easy to do. Every publisher has its own Discord at this point because why wouldn't you, so everyone knows where to go to get a game going. Plus there's still Subreddits, and now services like Startplaying.games. And VTTs are more sophisticated than they've ever been.

Like I said: things have changed since 2011.

5E is just going to get weirder

So even if 5E probably isn't going away, the people who remain behind will increasingly be rubbing shoulders with the real cranks, the true freaks who only think in terms of words like "Action economy." And you know what? God bless. You've clearly found something you love, and I love that for you.

If you are sticking with D&D because you genuinely love it, then great. But if you're sticking to it because you're afraid to know what else is going on out in the scene, just know that you are increasingly going to be sharing the 5E community with people who have to make up the same justifications as you are. The FOMO will drive you mad.

I know, because I'm a pro-wrestling fan who doesn't watch WWE. I watch every day as people tear their hair out every time they see people online bragging about how much fun they're having with other companies. The cognitive dissonance of having made a hard choice about which product to spend your time and money on, only to see other people enjoying different products, gnaws at your soul.

It leads to stupid bullshit like Console Wars. It drives you mad, until eventually you're so deep in the tank that you're subscribing to podcasts whose only job is to talk shit about "the alternative" just so you feel better about the choice you've made.

So if you are sticking with 5E, you have to really know that it is the right choice for you. Because the people leaving it for other games have made similarly strong choices. It absolutely would be easier to just stick with 5E, but at the same time, that's going to be less and less of a good idea as the game gets more stale (and more "digital-first"), and the people who stay behind get weirder and more reactionary.

At this stage in the game's lifecycle, there would have been a 6th Edition, but now that we've seen the new Core Rulebook refresh for 2024, we can definitively say that that's not happening any time soon. Unless something really surprising happens and Wizards gets their clocks cleaned by the combined forces of the OGL, Daggerheart, Draw Steel and Core20, or the looming shadow of Brandon Sanderson actually manages to consume the entire industry as the prophecy foretold.

Even then, it seems unlikely that they'll ever totally kill the Golden Goose. But don't worry, 5E is evolving, except the thing it's evolving into is a morass of hacks and kludges thanks to the Creative Commons license. Then you'll get a new movement of "5E purists" who remember "The good old days" when healing potions WEREN'T a bonus action, back when you still had to house rule that in, as god intended!

It's do or die time

At this point, I hate to say it, but if in some bizarre freak occurrence all of the new alternatives like Daggerheart and Draw Steel utterly collapsed, I would probably just quit the TTRPG hobby entirely. If D&D went back to being the all-encompassing monster that it became during the 00's and mid-10's, then it would simply prove that this industry will never be mature enough to justify the emotional investment.

There likely won't be a better chance than right now. A failure here would be held up as precedent, to say "See? The last time you peasants rebelled against D&D, this happened." Hell, someone on Twitter used the RPG "Quest" as a snarky rejoinder to someone asking about how they felt about new fantasy TTRPGs!

I don't think that nightmare scenario is going to happen, I'm just making a rhetorical point that nothing that D&D could do at this point could get me to agree to going back to spell slots, death saving throws, and the fucking action economy, even if it somehow did manage to go back to being "The only game in town." I hear that "We're not going back" is a pretty popular slogan lately, I have to assume they're talking about not going back to 5E, right?

Editor's note: The audience is going to be doubled over in pain at that great US Politics joke, might as well just end the article here.

#dnd #dnd5e #dnd 4e #dungeons and dragons #mcdm #draw steel #ttrpg #pathfinder #pf2e #lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancer

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project-sekai-facts · 2 years ago

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emurui arc ender (shocked face)

do you have everything about all of their parents? i for some reason can’t find anything about ichika’s mom, rui’s dad or emu’s mother (i may be blind, pretty sure emu’s mother was mentioned and ichika’s mom was aswell. i know she was mentioned in ichika’s introduction but i haven’t seen her in story yet)

The parents who don’t have physical appearances are generally less important and rarely show up or are mentioned (with a few exceptions) but we do learn some things about them from card stories and such. Here’s some stuff I can remember about the faceless/nameless parents

Ichika’s parents met because they liked the same song. It’s where her name comes from.

also her dad reads manga

We don’t know much about her mother. she's nice though.

Saki and Tsukasa’s mother is a piano teacher. Considering that she’s friends with Harumichi, she probably used to play professionally

We don’t know much about their father, but he has a tendency to spoil Saki (mentioned in Tenma Hinamatsuri)

Honami’s mother is a beautician (mentioned in an area conversation iirc) and her father is a hairstylist (mentioned in Petit SEKAI Episode 6)

Shiho and Shizuku’s mother is a koto instructor and their father used to be a guitarist in a band

We don’t know much about Minori’s parents but they show up in STEP by STEP!. They initially had concerns about her switching courses and being a full-time idol, but after seeing that Minori was prepared and determined to be an idol they let her go ahead

We don't know a huge amount about Haruka and Airi's parents either. Similar to Minori, we know they are nice parents and supportive of their idol careers and that's about it.

Haruka's mother is a nail artist. She was worried about Haruka when she was younger because she rarely smiled.

Kohane's dad is a photographer. He's also the one who bought Count Pearl.

According to Kohane, he has a penchant for coming up with weird names

An mentions in MEIKO's 1* card story that her mother, Yuka, is not a good cook.

I think it's stated somewhere that Yuka is a teacher but don't quote me on that

Akito and Ena's mother makes them eat their carrots because she thinks they should at least try to eat the things they don't like.

She's pretty laid-back and thinks her kids should be able to do whatever they want to do. She's meant to be the polar opposite of Mrs Asahina.

In Ena's fes card it's revealed that she kept some of the old art that Ena threw away in case she ever regretted it

Toya's mother used to bake him cookies a lot and that's why he likes them

She was also very overprotective of him when he was younger and basically wouldn't let him do any recreational games or activities in case he injured himself and couldn't play piano.

She taught Toya to play the violin. I'm assuming that she used to play professionally and that's how she met Harumichi.

We don't really know anything about Emu's mother iirc. She's mentioned occasionally but I don't remember her ever appearing off the top of my head. In Smile of Dreamer it's mentioned that she's abroad doing volunteer work in Cambodia.

Nene and Rui's mothers are good friends due to being neighbours. Nene even used to call Rui's mother "auntie" when they were younger. Her mother recorded a lot of her performances from when she was little.

Beyond that we don't really know anything. I don't remember Nene's dad ever appearing but he is mentioned.

Rui's mother is a biologist, as mentioned in Revival my dream. I have a theory that she mainly works in entomology (study of bugs), or maybe more specifically lepidopterology (study of moths and butterflies), because Rui talks a lot about a moth at one point and has books on butterflies in that event. He talks about some other bugs as well.

His dad is a robotics engineer, also mentioned in Revival my dream. He doesn't actually appear though.

Rui's mother had a very similar background to Rui. She was often called weird and eccentric because of her interest in biology and didn't have any friends until meeting Rui's father, who was really into robotics.

We don't know a huge amount about Mafuyu's father. He does push her to achieve as much as her mother does, but he seems to have limits.

We don't know a lot about Mizuki's parents either, but they are very supportive of them and were worried when they started skipping school

#parents who are very plot relevant in like one event are the ones we know most about. even if they don't have Live2D #* looks at Ms Kamishiro / Ms Shinonome *#asks #project sekai #i'm fairly certain that everyone has two parents aside from Kanade and all of the couples are married #(i say that because it used to be pretty widely accepted fanon that the shinonomes were divorced because ms shinonome was never mentioned.#i don't think it's really a HC anymore due to a new wave of fans coming in since she was introduced #but so many fics/fanart used that HC back in late 2021/early 2022 when i was new to the game so i still feel obligated to point that out.#if you've read any of the old stuff in prsk's ao3 tag and it mentions that the shinonome parents are divorced then there's your explanation

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cantwritethetword · 1 year ago

Text

Music to my Ears

(+ Tickletober2023 Day 15: Cackle)

Fic Descript: Eddie hears Steve's proper laugh for the first time and becomes OBSESSED with hearing it again. Luckily, Eddie has a way to make that happen.

~A/N - This is my first ever Steddie fic, and I haven't actually got up to Eddie in stranger things😅 but the amount of fics I've read (mostly nhasablogg cause their fics are fucking GOLDEN) makes me think i've got a decent understanding of the guy. lemme know if I completely fuck up his character tho lmao.

Hope this is alright, and hope the start of 2024 has been kind to you all <3

EDIT: This was also meant to be tickletober2023 but I'm adding it in now

- Enoy! ~

Tag List:

Masterpost Link

Fighting demonic entities from another dimension is certainly one way to bring people together.

Steve and Eddie certainly didn't have had the most typical start to their friendship, so the pair were more than happy to slide back into a more regular young adult friendship experience once everything had calmed down.

But, the less crazy shit the two experienced, the more Eddie noticed Steve's little quirks that his brain couldn't help but fixate on. Nothing that necessarily bothered him, just weird things that most people probably didn't realise about Steve.

One of those weird things was his laugh. Or, rather, his lack of proper laughter.

Any time someone cracked a stupid joke, or something funny happened in the movie they were watching, Steve would bow his head and let out a few near-silent snickers, before lifting his gaze again with a slightly-too-perfect grin.

The first time it happened, Eddie put it down to nerves. Steve wasn't quite used to hanging out with Eddie's bandmates yet, so of course he would be more reserved than usual.

But it happened again, and again, and again. And the less people that were around, the more confused Eddie became. It was almost like Steve was consciously stopping himself from laughing aloud.

From that point forward, Eddie made it his mission to make Steve laugh. He'd poke fun at Dustin, goof around with his guitar, and add even more dramatic effects to his DnD games. But nothing seemed to crack Harrington.

That was until they were alone.

The pair had been lounging on Eddie's bed, talking back and forth about whatever TV show they had just finished. Eddie had made some stupid joke under his breath, not thinking anything of it. It was nothing out of the ordinary, and had no intent other than maybe getting Steve to roll his eyes.

But with the relaxed atmosphere of Eddie's bedroom, Steve's guard was so far down he didn't have time to pull it back up, and it was almost like the laughter started before either of them realised.

It was high pitched, only a level or two below squeaky, and certainly didn't fit Eddie's old image of 'Douchebag Steve'. The giggles were bright, clear but still bunched together. It came out in a stream for only a few seconds before both men locked eyes with surprise on their faces.

Eddie was entranced. It wasn't a particularly special sounding laugh, but it was coming from Steve. It was Steve's actual real laugh.

The man in question went red, and started stuttering out a "Where were we?" in an attempt to switch the conversation back.

Though Eddie allowed Steve the free pass, and carried the conversation back to Twin Peaks. But his brain kept ticking. Would Steve let that happen again? How could Eddie get him comfortable enough to laugh like that? How could Eddie even make him laugh enough to spill?

Steve was, by now, fully under the impression he had gotten away with it, but Eddie - the meddling kid - was far from ready to let it go.

As the conversation fell to a comfortable lull, Eddie spoke.

"You know, you should laugh like that more often."

Steve completely bluescreened. "Uh- I- What do you mean?"

Eddie sat upright. "Your normal laugh is so... quiet. Just then it felt like you really let go. I liked it."

"No I didn't." Steve's eyes fell to the bedsheets, out of Eddie's gaze. "My normal laugh is my only laugh, I don't have a different laugh."

Eddie chuckled, moving closer and almost looming over Steve. "You really don't want to start this fight with me, I know what I heard."

Still maintaining direct eye contact with the bed, Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "There's no fight to be had, I didn't laugh any differently. You can't prove it."

Oh that did it. Those three words struck a chord with the resident musician, and everything clicked into place in his mind.

"I can't prove it, huh?" Eddie smirked. "I think that's where you're wrong, Harrington."

With a predatory glint in his eyes, Eddie launched his fingers onto Steve's ribs and began vibrating his fingertips against the bones.

Steve let out a strangled gasp and tensed up, half-choked grunts squeezing through his sealed lips as his hands fought to pry Eddie's off him.

"Come on Harrington, just lemme hear you laugh." Eddie teased with a wink.

"ED-EDDIE- PL-PLEASE-!" Steve groaned through gritted teeth, snickers beginning to break through his resolve as he gripped Eddie's wrists rigidly.

Almost there Eddie thought to himself. "Just let it happen Stevie."

And happen it did.

It all became just a little too much for Steve's nervous system to handle, and those adorable squeaky giggles Eddie was looking for flooded the room. Steve's hands lost their strength, and his arms crossed weakly in front of his stomach to protect himself. At least, that was the intention. In reality he had just trapped Eddie's ticklish fingers against his sides.

But by this point, Eddie had forgotten all about his little attack. His fingers stopped abruptly only seconds after Steve had cracked. Frozen, Eddie was unable to pull his eyes (and his attention) from Steve's bright giggly smile, even as Steve's laughter faded.

"Fuhuhuhuck..." Steve whined, his hands covering his eyes and breaking the silence that had formed since his little giggle fit had ceased.

Eddie chuckled, ruffling Steve's hair. "I'd say that proved my point, wouldn't you?"

"You tell no one about this." Steve said sternly, lifting himself onto his elbows. "Especially not Robin... or the kids."

Eddie grinned. "Oh I'm happy to keep this between us, our little secret hmm?"

After a quick nod in response, Steve let his gaze drift around the room for a moment. "So... uh... are you gonna let me up or..."

"Pfft, nope." Eddie laughed, and shot his fingertips straight under Steve's arms.

And this time, Steve didn't even try to stop himself.

#crow's tickle fic #steddie tickle fic #i really hope this is in character for them !!!!#I also really hope nobody has done this before...#if I've accidentally copied someone's idea IM SORRY #i dont think i have tho #EDIT: adding extra tags #tickletober2023 #crowstickletober2023

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for staying friends with someone?

I (25, nonbinary) became friends with someone (19F) online because they liked a fanfic I wrote. Let's call her Jessie. At first, Jessie messaged me just to say she enjoyed my fic and shared a fanart she drew of it. I was absolutely blown away by that, and let her know how nice her art was. Which started us having a pretty normal online friendship. Chatting about silly fandom things or ranting about our jobs or school or whatever. She is a really smart and funny person!

Jessie started writing fanfic, which I encouraged. It's fun to write! Of course I would read her fanfic and let her know I enjoyed it.

But then it turned into her only messaging me to read her fanfic. Like, we never can hold a conversation anymore without it turning to talking about her fanfic. I don't even bring up my own fics anymore because I know it will switch the conversation to Jessie's fics.

And, Jessie started to pressure me to write her ideas. Like "Oh, this would be a good idea! You should write this! When are you going to write this! I'll be waiting to read it. Have you written it yet?" When I never agreed to write it. Half the time, it's not even something I would want to write.

Or, I read this one fic and wrote a post on tumblr about how much I enjoyed it, and then minutes later had Jessie spamming my messages about how I should make a post promoting her fics. And exactly which ones I should promote because they don't get enough attention.

But the most recent thing Jessie has been doing that has annoyed me is continuously asking "If I think her fics are just as good as my fics". Like, I'm not a talented author, in my opinion. I'm pretty average. But I feel like the answer Jessie wants is for me to say Jessie's fics are better than mine. It always feels like Jessie wants to put myself under her which is...just not a good feeling. I usually just say I think we are about the same, but Jessie never seems satisfied with that answer.

I feel like our friendship has shifted to Jessie only wanting to use me for attention and the small amount of publicity I can offer. (Which isn't much. It's not like I am a well-known person or anything. I'm certainly not exactly a BNF writer or anything)

Here is where I am asking if I am an asshole. I've gotten to the point where I don't even LIKE Jessie anymore. Her actions have just...soured our relationship. I just roll my eyes when I see a notification from her, or shit talk her in real life to my brother. I procrastinate answering her messages.

But I really don't want to be mean to her face. She has had a really hard time in life. Her parents are kinda shit and her boyfriend left her (which he wasn't so great either). She has a ton of health issues, money issues, relationship issues, etc. I don't want to just drop her and make things worse for her life. But also, I just kinda can't stand the behavior anymore.

Part of me thinks I should just set up more clear boundaries, but on the other hand I just don't want to put in the effort of fighting her for those boundaries. And I am pretty sure it would be a fight.

Am I an asshole for continuing the motions of a friendship for a person I don't even like anymore? Should I just end the friendship and let them move on, or would that be worse?

(Asdfghjkl123)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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deceasedream69 · 2 years ago

Text

Ignoring

Summary: Jake x reader. A little angsty but fluffy ending.

A/n: a lot of Spanish that doesn't really matter to the plot, so I'm not gonna translate.

Reader has scarlet with powers.

--------------------------------------------------

- "but then, le dijo que no quería estar peleando, y todos estábamos viendo y..."

I got carried away with excitement as I was telling a story I considered funny to Jake. I liked the idea that because he spoke Spanish I could just let myself lose in my own native language.

- "I don't understand a thing you're narrating my darling, but you look so beautiful today"

That cut me off and I turned to look at the same face, but different person now. Did Steven really planned to come out right now in the middle of my conversation with Jake? Was Jake bored and just decided to switch and let my rambling for another alter. Of course that alter was going to be Steven.

- "hi, love, I'm sorry for the confusion, I was just gossiping with Jake", I kissed him sweetly and lay down with him before falling asleep. I still had a lot of doubts in my mind that I was sure I had to attend later.

- "y luego...", I started my experiment again, there's no way Jake was going to switch so fast, he's been with me for like 10 minutes, it'll be too suspicious or exactly the answer I was looking for. "Pero, pues, no me quise meter porque ya sabes cómo es Tara cuando..."

His eyes looked hypnotized, paying full attention to my words, brows furrowed together for brief moments and his head supported by his hand while he nodded to my words.

- "Hi, Steven", I smiled, tho, inside it hurted knowing damn well what just happened.

- "it always amazes me how you can tell us appart without even saying anything"

I kissed him sweetly.

- "have a good night, my love"

- "you too, my darling"

I couldn't hold it anymore, I was so angry. I checked Steven, he was deep into his sleep, carefully I got out of bed and walked out of the apartment.

A sigh escaped my mouth before walking towards the window. I crawled out of it, the fresh and cold air of the night hitting my face and making me easen up, but not enough.

I flew to where I knew I could let myself go freely. An abandoned building.

I came crushing through the ceiling, all the way from the top, to the bottom. When I reached the bottom I grabbed the first thing that crossed my path, smashing it against the wall, repeating the same over and over and over.

How could he do that to me, was I boring? Where my stories boring? If it's not about sex it isn't worth it to even be out? Just spending time together at least, no, it wasn't enough for him, I wasn't enough.

I broke, smashed and exploded the whole building down, kneeling in front of it when it was almost just ashes. But the last line still ringed through my mind.

I wasn't enough.

Moon knight's pov.

I felt when y/n left the bed, I thought she was just going to the bathroom, but a fair amount of time passed and she didn't come back. Lazily I got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom, my eyes not fully open and my steps clumsy.

- "babe", I knocked on the bathroom door. "Are you okay?"

I yawned and scratched the parts of my body that suddenly were itchy, as I grew more and more sleepy.

- "y/n?" I opened the bathroom door but there was no one there. "Y/n?!" I checked the entire apartment and she wasn't there.

- "this isn't funny, mi vida" I tried calling her but her phone was in the house, that's when I really got worried.

Until a spark caught my eye, outside the window.

The red lights glowing wild and standing out in the dark and lights dead city.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and got changed into my suit.

Y/n's pov.

I couldn't take it anymore, my powers blinked as I lowered my hands, my legs were shaking slightly and my head was spinning, making my vision go blurry.

Moon knight's pov.

When I arrived I was ready to fight whatever y/n was fighting, but an old building wasn't really a worthy opponent.

- "y/n?" I knelt in front of her, turning her slightly, caressing her cheek, she seemed fine, just tired. Taking her in my arms, we came back to the apartment, quickly taking my suit off.

Y/n's pov

Cold.

It was very cold.

I didn't like it, just wanted to stop feeling that coldness. I angrily groaned and tried to move, but my head felt heavy, trying to keep my eyes closed in case the lights could hurt them, but I started to open the slowly, very slowly.

- "too cold", I hugged my own body.

- "are you kidding me? You want me to burn my fingers?"

- "this is hot for you?", I whimpered and hugged myself tightly, putting my knees to my chest level.

- "stop complaining and we'll finish faster"

- "it's too cold"

He sighed in defeat.

- "fine", he turned the hot water knob just a little bit, but enough for my taste.

His touch was slow and careful, my hair was already washed when I woke up.

After picking me up from the bathtub and carrying me to the bed, get got me underwear and lay next to me.

- "can you explain to me what happened today?"

This wasn't Jake, it was softer.

- "thanks for going for me, Marc"

- "anytime, love, but that doesn't answer my question"

- "I got mad at Jake", I wasn't really maintaining eye contact. Too nervous and tired to even try.

- "why were you mad at Jake, love? What did he do?", he lifted my chin with his finger, everything was quiet, the whole moment was just us, which made me even more nervous to talk about what I felt, what happened... and how I couldn't really control my anger at the end.

- " can I talk to him?"

- "I thought your were mad at him"

- "I need to... please..."

He hugged me, making us spoon, him behind me, his arm snaked in front of me.

- "talk to me, mi Cielo"

- "do you think I'm boring? Does something I do makes you feel the need to stop listening to me so desperately you have to change alter"

- "what?", he whispered. I turned around, now facing him.

- "if you're not comfortable listening to something I'm saying, or you just find me annoying, you can just say so, and not make me waste my saliva", I said turning again so he was facing my back.

- "didn't mean to make you feel that way"

- "how did you expect me to react when you just changed to stop listening to me"

He just stayed silent and hold me tighter.

- "I don't always have the best responses, Steven does"

- "I wasn't telling the story to Steven, specially when I'm speaking Spanish", I closed my eyes, making sure I didn't get angry again.

- "tomorrow we're going to that new restaurant you told me about, and you're gonna tell me everything you want, and I'll listen"

- "you can tell me anything you want too, you can trust me", I said facing him again.

- "I know I can... I'm just not sure I deserve..."

- "don't you dare say that, mi Cielo, te amo, I love you with all my heart, and I always will, that's why I love speaking with you and spending time with you, just like I love doing any of those things with any of you three, but when I feel like you love doing it with me too"

- "I'm sorry", he grabbed my hand and kissed it

- "I'm sorry too", I kissed his hand too and he laughed.

- "I don't deserve you...", he smiled, "te amo"

- "te amo" I kissed him sweetly as we fell asleep holding each other.

The end :)

#imagines #fanfic #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon knight #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley imagines #marc spector x you #steven grant #steven grant x you #moon knight imagine #moon knight imagin #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight system #moon knight x reader

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classificationhell · 1 year ago

Note

I love your new chapter of Mourningstar, btw! Amazing work as always! How would Lucifer (both au and normal), Alastor, and Fizz and Ozzie handle their little who is very handsy? She's constantly trying to grab and pet Alastor's ears, Lucifer's hair and hat, and Fizzy's hat because she thinks they look neat.

Alastor doesn't completely hate touch from certain people, Mimzy, Niffty, Charlie, and of course his Little. He has a decent amount of patience for it, and you're honestly the only one he'll let get away with actually petting his ears. However, that being said he does have a limit.

He'd never yell at then I feel, and he'd never pull out a switch just for something he normally, or at least 7 out of 10 times, doesn't mind and isn't a disruptive, rude, or dangerous behavior. Instead when he has had enough, but you're regressed and still want to pet him he'll drop you off with 'Uncle Husker' as you call him (he finds it both funny, as Husk claims to hate it and gets annoyed, and a bit irritating as he doesn't like the implication of them being related).

For either Lucifer they are completely fine with it. They could be trying to have a conversation for whatever reason to anyone and you're playing with their hat and the person is confused, if it's not Charlie or Vaggie, because the king of hell is letting a Little do whatever with his hat and hair without even missing a beat in the conversation as if this was such a usual occurrence it didn't register to them. Both will let their Littles play with or wear the hats. Where they differ is Lucifer likes the attention, but Mourningstar absolutely needs it. The second you start this behavior with Mourningstar expect to be doing it every day or he will actively cry because, "My babygirl haaaates me!"

Fizzarolli doesn't mind it so much after you know what he looks like and knows you won't be freaking out about it, but before he's going to be holding his hat tightly and paranoid about you yanking it off.

Edit to add: Thank you I'm glad you liked the second chapter as it gave me some trouble lol

#ask response #memes #hazbin hotel memes #unfunny memes #classification hell au #classificationhell #thank you #lore adjacent #reactions #lucifer mourningstar #alastor meme #alastor reaction #lucifer reaction #fizzarozzie #fizzmodeus

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gimmie-a-sammich · 9 months ago

Text

To Rule Them All | Chapter 4 | Beginning of the End

Pairings: Idol!Ateez/???!Ateez x Fem!Original Characters

Summary: Alexis is about to have the summer of a lifetime traveling the country with some of her best friends following one of her favorite groups, Ateez. Little do they know, there is more to this group than meets the eye. Take a trip into the dark as they navigate a world unseen.

Genre: (18+ Minors DNI) smut, angst, fluff, supernatural vibes

Chapter Warnings: cursing, more hauntings, mentions of past traumas, slight harassment from an ex

Word Count: 5k

read here on AO3

To Rule Them All masterlist

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Hongjoong briefly surveyed the faces of the members in front of him, mixes of frustration and just straight up anger showing on each of them. None of them looked impressed with his sudden announcement. He knew he had caught them off guard, but Wooyoung had forced his hand. Typically, they had at least one more day before their final decisions, making them from the comforts of whatever hotel they were staying at. But not this time. He had let his emotions overtake him and cause him to make the rash decision to deviate from their usual selection ritual. He knew it may make their upcoming flight to the States more tense, but at this point he couldn’t care less about their feelings regarding the matter. He was frustrated with himself, mainly with the fact that he had been caught breaking the rules that he had carefully drawn up throughout the years. Now, he could only imagine what off-limit excursions the other seven had been taking.

“I think a few reminders are in order before we begin," Hongjoong declared, clearing his throat before continuing on. "Once decisions are made, they are final. No switching. No trading of partners. You know how important these initial connections for feedings are. No unauthorized visits after decisions are made. We don’t need to keep tabs on them as frequently beyond this point. Feedings at most every other day to keep them from expiring on us. We don't want someone else ending up in an asylum, now do we? Most importantly, no feedings outside of dreams, and absolutely no attachments.”

After his statements, Hongjoong looked at each member more intently, taking note of how each one of them avoided his gaze. A submission of guilt, he thought to himself. Not that he had any room to judge. The only one brave enough to meet him was Wooyoung, his dark eyes filled with silent laughter. He smirked at him, knowing full well how hypocritical it was for Captain to be preaching about rules he also so carelessly broke.

Soft mumblings continued to fill the room as each took in their leader’s words. Conversations of who everyone was going to choose rumbled, calmly at first before the volume of the room increased as the debates between them escalated to new heights, causing Hongjoong to lean forward, rubbing his temples in frustration. He had never seen the group become this riled up when it came to decision making. Normally, this was a much smoother process, maybe filled with an argument here and there, but nothing that couldn’t be resolved quickly. This was new for all of them, and something Hongjoong attributed to the sheer amount of emotional connection they all had already developed towards this group of girls.

There was something different about this group of chosen ones, something that even Hongjoong couldn’t quite put his finger on. He had been willing to overlook the carelessness of some of the members, knowing that he felt a string tugging deep inside of him, pulling him towards one of them. He had noticed how often everyone stayed within their rooms recently, isolating themselves instead of spending time together. He wasn’t naive enough to not realize what they were doing behind closed doors. Hell, he was just as guilty as the rest of them, sneaking away during any free time he was provided to go on these unauthorized visits. But the interaction with Wooyoung flung him back into the reality of their current arrangement, one that was filled with loneliness and harsh goodbyes. The realization left him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown upon him, shocking his brain back into the mindset of a leader and washing away his own personal desires.

"We will determine the order how we always have," he snapped, breaking up the intense side conversations immediately. He picked himself up off the ground with a flourish and reached for the small velvet pouch resting on the couch to his left. He untied the bag and set it on the center of the living room table, exposing the brightly colored folded papers hidden within, mocking the members with its secrets. "Random draw. On each is a number from one to eight. You know the rest from there. Two per girl. Know that you might not get your first choice, and prepare to have a second option. Keep them folded until everyone has picked. Oldest draws first.”

He held the bag out to Seonghwa. Thoughts filled the eldest’s head in anticipation, a look of excitement flickering over his somber face before moving towards concern. "Can we have five more minutes to settle into our decisions… you sprung this on us without warning. We usually have tonight for our final visit. Maybe we need a bit more…” Seonghwa began, but was instantly cut off by Hongjoong.

“It wouldn’t make a difference… you won’t find anyone home,” he said without thinking. His eyes widened, filling with regret over his loose words as Seonghwa raised a questioning eyebrow.

Wooyoung cackled, rearing his head back in laughter while he slapped his knee. “Way to rat yourself out, Capt.”

The room exploded once more over Hongjoong’s apparent admission of a rule break. San and Mingi stood up, each of them pointing wildly around the room while their loud voices drowned out the others around them. Jongho stared at their leader through narrowed eyes, very clearly scrutinizing each of his decisions up until this point. Seonghwa began to silently pace the area behind the couch, running his fingers through his freshly dyed platinum hair in irritation of the events around him. Yeosang stayed within his seat on the worn armchair, eyes rolling, too used to his brothers’ fighting to warrant any more of a reaction. Wooyoung’s eyes never left Hongjoong, laughing sharply and relishing in the fact that his entire world had been set ablaze. Yunho, who had remained silent while he assessed the reactions of his brothers, stood and stepped closer to Hongjoong, face composed despite the annoyance running through him.

"First off, why are they not at home? Why aren’t any of them home?” he asked, his calm voice cutting through the chaos of the room. “More importantly, how do you know this?”

“Yeah, Joongie… how do you know this?” Wooyoung sneered, casting his eyes back to Hongjoong as six other pairs followed suit.

“ENOUGH!” Hongjoong bellowed, rattling everyone in the room as his scarlet eyes flashed dangerously. Gone was their lovable, always put together leader, and in his stead was the Pirate King they had once known. He threw his hands up in frustration, his eyes flaming with rage. “How I know is NONE of your concern.” He thrust the small pouch back out to Seonghwa. “Draw.”

The silence in the room was deafening after the outburst. Seonghwa fumbled in his reach towards the pouch, avoiding Hongjoong’s eyes at all cost. He carefully lifted an orange slip of paper, tucking it into his hands meekly. Hongjoong drew next, grasping at another slip and shoving it into his pocket without a second glance. The rest of the group drew their colored pieces in similar fashion, all taking care to avoid the eyes of their leader. Nervous glances filled the room once all eight pieces had been removed from the small bag, knowing that those small scraps of paper held their fates.

“Hana, dul, set,” Captain said, giving the directive to unfold the tiny slips of paper. He looked about the room. The faces peering back at him were void of all emotion, their blank stares would put the best poker players to shame. “One.”

“Alexis,” San’s confident voice broke the silence, answering the question with zero hesitation. His face filled with relief the second he said her name.

Wooyoung snorted next to him, elbowing him playfully. “Partners once again,” he stated, holding up the piece of paper with the number two clearly written on it.

Murmurs filled the room. This was a surprising turn of events; never has a girl been completely off the table from the first two draws. Hoongjoong quickly silenced the budding commotion with a harsh stare.

“Three.”

“Thea.” It was Yunho’s voice that came next, staking his claim with as much confidence as San. He caught the glances of several members with raised eyebrows. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I like the purple hair, what can I say? And… she’s tiny.”

His last comment garnered more side eye glances. Yunho definitely had a type, to say the least. Mingi’s boisterous laugh broke the tension as he slapped his best friend on the arm lightheartedly. The other members quickly joined, joking about Yunho’s consistency with his choices. Hongjoong shook his head, fighting the temptation to laugh along with the rest of them.

“Four.”

Seonghwa’s smooth voice entered the fold. “Nikki,” he said, a shadow of a smile appearing on his face.

Hoongjoong’s heart began to race. Being in the latter half of the process always put him on edge, even more so this time around. It was impossible to judge what Mingi, Yeosang, or Jungho were thinking. Their expressions continued to be blank, but their eyes were widening with each name, betraying their otherwise cool exteriors.

“Five.”

Jungho beamed a gummy grin, aiming it in Yunho’s direction. “Thea… I agree, something about that purple hair.”

“Two pairings set,” Hongjoong said matter of factly, squashing any additional comments before they had a chance to be said. “Six.”

“Christie,” Yeosang said, his deep timbre rolling through the room. He sunk deeper into the chair following his choice, relaxation taking the place of the tension that had been visible throughout his body.

Hongjoong glanced toward Mingi before looking at the crumpled number seven lying in his hand. His eyes then turned to Yeosang. A silent understanding was made between the two as delicate, twisted smiles snuck onto their faces. “Christina.”

An unspoken question hung in the air now that there was only one name left. All eyes were on Mingi, who had been uncharacteristically silent up until this point.

“Everything has a way of working out, huh? I’m going last and still getting who I wanted,” Mingi smirked, leaning back on the couch as he placed his long arms behind his head.

With the commotion earlier in the night, Hongjoong was surprised with how smoothly this process went. There were no arguments, not even an inkling of one when it came to the actual decisions. Apparently this entire evening was going to be one of firsts. He resumed his position at the front of the room, his bandmates waiting for the next directive now that the stage for the coming months had been set. He tried to gather their feelings from the faces in front of him, but once again he was looking at a sea of blank stares.

“Uhhh… question,” Yunho asked quietly, raising his hand to gain the attention of the leader. “How are we supposed to find them if they aren’t at their homes? We haven’t made the connection yet…”

“AirBnB in Fort Worth. I’ll send everyone the address,” Wooyoung’s sharp voice rang through the room. Hongjoong shot daggers at him, but the false maknae couldn’t care less. “What? I looked through Alexis’s laptop… it’s also all she’s talked about for days. Really, all of them. Did none of you pay attention? Or was everyone too busy sneaking around to care?”

Wooyoung's latest jab seemed to affect the guys more than any of them would have liked to acknowledge. Hongjoong rolled his eyes before returning back to Yunho’s question.

“Thanks to Woo being a complete stalker, that won’t be an issue,” he jeered, casting a dark look over to Wooyoung.

“You say being a stalker… I say due diligence in making sure we know what’s going on. Something that usually falls within your job description, does it not?” Wooyoung retorted aggressively, not taking kindly to Hongjoong’s humor.

Hongjoong couldn’t even warrant a response, and Wooyoung knew it. He had been shirking on his duties. He ignored the wondering looks from the other members’ faces, questioning why Wooyoung’s mouthiness was being tolerated. He rarely let Wooyoung speak to him this way, and now he had allowed it twice without consequence. But Hongjoong had no grounds to stand upon, so instead he simply shook his head before continuing on. “No more contact until the night before the concert. We’ll establish connections then. I mean it. NO contact. You all may think you’re being clever, but none of you are as sneaky as you think.”

“Including you apparently,” Jongho mumbled, causing laughter to thunder through the room.

Hongjoong’s face immediately flushed beet red, blushing with the realization that he had indeed been found out. Seonghwa stepped over to him and placed a reassuring arm around his shoulder, squeezing it playfully.

“It’s a little fun to break the rules once in a while, isn’t it?” he whispered before leading him out of the room. Seonghwa ignored Hongjoong’s scowl and called back into the other’s still lounging in amongst the couches. “Go finish packing, if you haven’t already. We leave here in an hour for the airport.”

__________

The day in Nashville had positively flown by. I felt like I barely had a chance to breathe between the insane pace Thea had set for us and being doubled over in laughter 95% of the time. It was always like that whenever we got together, laughing, joking, and just enjoying each other’s company in person whenever we had the chance. We had made it a point to get together at least a couple of times a year, even though we all stayed in constant communication with the never ending video calls. The dynamics were definitely going to change some now that Christie, Nikki, and I all lived within miles of each other, but that just made our desire to have Thea and Adam move even greater. The k-pop compound that we all secretly hoped would come to fruition was realistically within our grasp with a bit more convincing.

I relaxed into the soft cushions of Thea’s oversized mocha brown armchair, exhaustion from the hours in the car and the events of the day quickly coming over me. To end our marathon of a day, we all decided to wind down by watching ‘Guardian: The Lonely and Great God.’ My eyelids were growing heavier with each passing minute, and I was just waiting for one of the other three to call me out for my slow blinks, my tell tale sign that it was time for me to go to bed. In reality, all of us needed to get to sleep soon, given the fact that Nikki, Christie, and I had to be up with the sun to make the final ten and half hour trek to Fort Worth.

“Alexis… love,” Christie’s hushed voice came beside me.

“Hmmm?” I hummed, struggling to lift my heavy lids. I hadn’t even realized I had dozed off during one of the episodes. Once I finally forced my eyes open, I saw that the living room was now empty and the TV had been turned off.

“Officially bedtime, so get your cute booty up, sleepy head,” she teased, her green eyes glinting playfully in the dim light from the lamp beside me. She nudged me gently, her way of encouraging my numb body off the chair.

I groaned, but slung my feet off the chair with a soft thud and sat up, rubbing my eyes so hard that I forced myself to see stars. I shuffled behind Christie towards the bedroom we would be sharing tonight. Thankfully I was smart and had already done my nighttime routine before we began our viewing party, so all I had to do was crawl into the fuzzy blankets awaiting for me. I faintly felt Christie tuck me in tenderly before drifting back to sleep.

Christie and I were jolted awake by a third body leaping into the bed. I groaned, wanting to take full advantage of every single minute of sleep I could. I opened my eyes to see Thea wriggled in the space between Christie and I.

I grabbed one of the pillows from behind my head and brought it down onto Thea’s smiling face. “Theadoraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa… go away,” I mumbled, saying her full name with every ounce of sass I could muster this early in the morning. I was one of the few people who could get away with using it, and I tended to abuse that right more often than not.

“You know better than to disturb me without coffee,” Christie grumbled. “Really, how are you so awake?”

She flung the pillow off her before sitting up and turning to face Christie and I. She pouted, crossing her arms in front of her slim body. Her dark brown eyes bored into us, looking almost as black as her large, square rimmed glasses. Thea had always been the earliest riser of the group, so it was no surprise that she became our alarm clock this morning.

“Coffee is ready in the kitchen,” she singsonged, her voice a soft contrast to the death glare she was giving Christie.

I sat up, squinting at her. She was completely dressed, wearing a pair of royal blue high waisted athletic shorts and a white long sleeved t-shirt with a twist detail, showing off her thin waist. Her bright purple hair and makeup were both already done. The only thing out of the norm for her was her glasses, which she normally only wore at night.

“Why are you dressed already?” I asked her, tilting my head to the side quizzically. Early riser or not, there was no reason why she would be ready, considering she said she had the entire day off.

“SURPRISE!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air with a flare. “I’M COMING!”

I leapt up and flung my arms around her, tackling her back down onto the bed. “HOW DARE YOU KEEP THIS FROM US!” I shouted back, having to yell over the sound of Christie’s excited squeals.

“We’ve had this planned since the day of the drawing,” Nikki’s smooth voice came from the doorway. She was leaned against the frame, her long black hair pulled up into a ponytail, which only emphasized the midnight blue highlights poking underneath. She was dressed in leggings and a tank top, all in her typical black. She was clutching the only thing keeping her alive: coffee. She smirked at the three of us on the bed, excitement glittering in her icy blue eyes. “It was hard to keep the secret, but the reaction was so worth it.”

Thea untangled herself from the bed and joined Nikki at the door. “We’re leaving in less than an hour, so hurry up! I’ll have breakfast made for everyone in thirty,” she called as they both made their way down the hallway, leaving Christie and I to pull ourselves out of bed and get ready for yet another day spent on the road.

It didn’t take too much effort at least. I threw on the joggers and crop top I had laid out the night before, pairing them with my favorite chunky Adidas sneakers and quickly French braided my hair into two pieces. I slopped on some concealer, eyeliner, and mascara, and was on my way to the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the air and guiding me to my destination. Christie was not far behind me, dressed in leggings and a cropped teal crewneck with her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

Thea had already set her breakfast nook with four plates loaded with food and steaming cups of coffee, one most definitely with Christie’s name on it. Christie sat down in front of it and immediately scooped the mug into her hands, bringing it to her lips and taking a large sip before letting out a sigh of relief. Cooking for everyone was definitely one of Thea’s love languages, and something she tended to do often whenever we were all together.

“Told you I had coffee ready,” Thea mocked. “I learned very quickly about the demons residing within you and Nikki that could only be subdued by caffeinated beverages.”

“Bean water is better than that splishy splashy bullshit you and Alexis seem to think we need,” Nikki shot back, sliding into the booth alongside me.

I leaned my head onto Nikki’s shoulder, feeling her tense up slightly from the unexpected affection before relaxing back underneath me. “Well… somebody has to make sure you take care of yourself. You did elect me as the responsible one, remember?” I jested.

Her response was a light flick to my forehead, causing me to lift my head off her with a muffled hey before rubbing spot on my head. She snorted into her hand as Thea came and joined us at the table, the four of us continuing on with our banter while eating what Thea had so lovingly prepared. Once plates were cleared and bellies were filled, Thea gathered the plates and cleaned up the kitchen while the rest of us reloaded Nikki’s SUV. By some miracle we were running right on schedule, and Thea quickly locked up her house while the debate began on the dreaded seating arrangements.

Nikki, of course, wanted to have permanent residency either as the driver or navigator for the entirety of the drive, adamant that we would all enjoy the ride much more. Arguing with her was like trying to stop a storm from rolling in, so we all gave into her whims. Honestly, it meant that I could lounge in the back seat when I wasn’t driving, something I would most definitely not complain about. Being a passenger princess was my speciality. After further conversations, it was determined that Thea and Nikki would split the drive amongst the two of them, stating that their lead feet would only be in our benefit, leaving Christie and I in the back seat for the entirety of the trip. I was even more elated by this, knowing that Christie would let me snuggle the daylights out of her while I took my compulsory naps. We all then settled into our designated roles with travel mugs of coffee in hand and bottles of water on standby.

The drive went as smoothly as one could expect, filled with endless amounts of singing, discussions of our ever growing lists of biases, and an obscene amount of laughter. Thea and Nikki alternated their roles as driver and navigator at our stops every couple of hours. Soon enough, we were pulling into our BnB for the next four nights. It was absolutely adorable, nestled into a quaint neighborhood, surrounded by foliage and bright flowers.

“Finally!” Christie grumbled, pulling herself out of the backseat, nearly catching herself on the door in her rush to get out. “I can’t feel anything.”

We all chuckled at her clumsiness before moving to unload the massive amounts of luggage residing in the back hatch. All belongings were gathered from there and within the vehicle itself and were swiftly transported into our temporary home.

Inside, we veered apart to deposit our things within the bedrooms we had chosen on the drive down. In an effort to help pass the time we studied each room, carefully selecting each one based on the pictures in the listing. I fought the urge to lay down on the bed when I walked into mine, knowing that there was a high probability I would not get back up. I sighed as I unpacked my bathroom supplies and hung up my outfit for the concert tomorrow night, moving my way about the room slowly. I was lost in the thoughts running through my head, everything from the trip down, the upcoming concert, my never ending post-relationship drama, and the strange events of the last couple of weeks. I tried my best to drown them out by quietly humming Bouncy to myself when Nikki’s voice rang through the house.

“I’M HUNGRY!” I could hear the hangriness sneaking its way into her voice.

“YOU ARE ALWAYS HUNGRY!” I hollered back before I was quickly overtaken by giggles.

I made my way to the living room after the exclamation to find my three best friends mid discussion on what to do for dinner. Thea wanted to find some local place to go eat at, but that was quickly vetoed. None of us wanted to leave the house after finally making ourselves comfortable. Quite honestly, I had no opinion on the matter and was perfectly content with them figuring it out amongst themselves.

“Oooooooo,” Christie trilled. “There’s a Korean chicken place nearby that delivers. Rave reviews.

Nikki’s demeanor immediately perked up after the suggestion of chicken. "We're just missing soju, or else we would have a perfect meal,” she mused.

“Actually, one moment,” Thea stated, holding up her index fingers before she moseyed out of the room into the kitchen. I could hear the fridge door open and the clinking of glass, as well as muffled oomphs coming from Thea. Not a minute later, she reappeared into the living room, barely holding on to the six bottles of soju nestled precariously in her arms, beaming widely at us. “I came prepared.”

Christie had taken care of the online ordering, making sure all of our requests were fulfilled. Shortly after, the doorbell rang, causing Nikki to pop up and rush towards the door. Nobody could get between this woman and her Korean fried chicken. Thea distributed plates as Christie began pouring generous shots for all of us. We tucked ourselves onto the floor around the table in the middle of the living room, digging into the copious amounts of chicken, rice, dumplings, and tteokbokki. We were having the best time, only for it to be interrupted by my phone going off. My heart dropped at the number that popped up on the screen. The high I was running on instantly fell. I sighed deeply, dropping my head into my hands to hide the tears that were threatening to sneak it. Christie instantly placed a reassuring hand on my back as she snatched up the phone.

“Fuck off, Austin. Stop calling. It is well beyond done and over. Leave her alone,” she hissed into the speaker, her voice laced with fury. She hung up the phone, blocking the number before placing it face down on the table.

“How is he still able to reach you? Are you in contact with him?” Nikki questioned abrasively. I didn’t even have to see her face to know just how enraged she was, it was oozing out of her voice.

I sighed, shaking my head before removing it from my hands. I turned to face Nikki, whose face was surprisingly full of concern, even though her voice was showing her true emotions. I had intentionally been keeping Nikki, Thea, and even Adam in the dark about how bad things with Austin had gotten. The only one who knew everything was Christie, given the fact she was doing her best to handle it alongside me. "He got my new number from a mutual friend…. They didn’t realize the full extent of the situation. He’s been calling nonstop ever since,’ I choked out as the tears I had been keeping in began to sneak out of my eyes. “He keeps using different numbers, so it doesn’t even matter how many of them I block.”

Nikki's tough exterior immediately crumbled from the crack in my voice. "I had no idea he was going this far. I thought that ended once you moved away he had finally given up," she said softly. She rose from her perch on the couch and plopped down beside me, pulling me into a side hug with a tight squeeze. "I’m so sorry sunshine. I wish there was something I could do to make it better. I mean, Christie and I could still very easily become pen pals and have him taken care of… if you want."

The corners of my mouth twitched up slightly at Nikki’s mischievous words as Christie barked out a laugh.

"Nikki, don't tempt me like that. I will send pages of handwritten letters and I look damn cute in a bikini… we could have them doing anything we wanted," Christie joked with her partner in crime. She scooted around the table to come closer to me, nearly falling over once more as she somehow caught herself on one of the table legs. She grabbed onto me tightly, pulling me in for a much needed hug, and squishing her cheek into mine. "Hey…guess what?"

I pulled my head away, turning to look at her as I wiped away a stray tear. “Do I even want to know?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, thoroughly confused as to where she would be going next.

"Chicken has meat in it!" She sang, unable to contain her laughter any longer. Thea snorted from behind us on the couch as Nikki fell over onto the floor in her own fit of laughter as the mood was instantly lifted following the long running joke amongst us.

“One more moment pleaseeeeee,” Thea declared, crawling over to the soundsystem situated within the TV stand. She hooked her phone up to it, and immediately started playing one of my all time favorites, Lone Ranger by Monsta X.

I cackled, covering my mouth and throwing my head back at her song choice. “How dare you bring Main Dish into this conversation!” I teased, struggling to get the words out between laughs.

Thea picked up two bottles of soju off the table and took a generous swig of one before shoving the other into my chest. She reached out with her free hand to pull me off the floor, stating that in times like these the best cure was to dance it out. Nikki and Christie joined in, and all thoughts of Austin were thrown out the window. We all began taking shots of soju even more freely than before, and it took everything in our power to not dance the night away.

#ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez fanfiction #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez smut #ateez angst

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missingmywing · 2 years ago

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Oh this one is fun - it’s amazing how making one different decision can so strongly alter someone’s whole course.

@khoc-week Day 6: One Choice, New Life

Etheria:

Etheria is really hard because her entire character is based around the choices she makes, especially as the protag Keykid, and while she could make different choices she probably wouldn’t. Not for the major things. So what if, instead, it was a minor thing that wouldn’t normally have much effect - but in this case changes everything. Because what Gula told them was… a lot, and Skuld has to leave, and Etheria really needs time to process. So she and Skuld say goodbye there, and Skuld leaves, and rather than wandering off and running into Dark Chirithy Etheria instead stays, sitting in the house trying to wrap her head around everything she’s found out.

So when Strelitzia shows up, she’s there. And Ven is as well, controlled by Darkness, and suddenly some very rapid decisions must needs be made when the Darkness attacks them. Etheria defends Strelitzia of course, but Strel fights back too, and Darkness is strong but so are they and Etheria manages to break its hold over Ven and drag both him and Strel away into the streets. She knows there’s a very limited amount of time before the Dandelions leave - they’re already in the process of leaving, so she drags them directly to Ava (and if she gets any strange looks for being a Unicornis member with an Ursus and Leopardis member in tow in the Vulpes headquarters - well, Vulpes knows the most about the Dandelions, it shouldn’t be hard to piece together.)

Ava is extremely alarmed at the information she brings, because of how close it was, and that someone is trying to alter the future that isn’t her - she asks Etheria to go with them and watch over them. Etheria is hesitant - she’d planned to stay, this wasn’t - but Strel begs her to come along, and Ven is terrified and unsure now that even he should go if he’s going to be a puppet of darkness -

Ava tells him very firmly that he is a Dandelion, and that the fact that Etheria managed to pull him away was proof that Darkness didn’t have a hold of his heart. They’ll just need to protect both he and Strel, and who better than Etheria?

Etheria caves, keeps her memories, and she, Ven, and Strel form their own Dandelion trio even once they meet up with the others. Strel is technically the only one who’s a leader, but Etheria’s playing bodyguard to both her and Ven so the three of them are always together, so… they kind of end up accidentally having their own input into stuff (mostly because she keeps getting asked and is just like guys pls I’m not even supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be unbiased.

Brain, Ephemera, Skuld, and Strel: lol, unbiased.

Lauriam: I was until you saved my sister.)

Not that it ultimately stops everything or changes Etheria’s ultimate fate, but Strel survives and is sent forward alongside Lauriam, Elrena, and Ven.

Yiskah:

If Yiskah had accepted Ava’s invitation to join the Dandelions, he would have been at the finale right alongside Brain, firmly at his side. He would have taken the final unused pod to return with him to the real world, and send Lauriam and Elrena on their way, and would have been there for that conversation with Luxu, likely participated in whatever deal it is that they struck. He’d have made the jump forward along with Brain - or Brain’s heart as it may be - and they’d have landed in Scala ad Caelum together to find Sigurd waiting.

From there… well who knows, we’ll find out in Missing Link, but it will either be very different thanks to the time jump or Yiskah will end up in the same role as he would have even if he’d died and reincarnated haha.

Aella and Vale:

If Aella had decided not to switch Unions and had stayed in Vulpes with Vale, both of their fates would have been very different. They would have been a lot closer, been there to support each other, and would have agreed to Ava’s offer to become Dandelions because it made more sense than staying and fighting a losing war. Vale wouldn’t fall to darkness and betray her, and she wouldn’t die dueling him in the Keyblade Graveyard.

One could argue that the fates of the Dream Eaters aren’t much better - except as a demigod of death himself Vale can take certain liberties with his and others’ hearts and souls. And as Chirithy pointed out, death and sleep share a boundary. Vale can pull them both into the Underworld in the aftermath of Daybreak Town falling, then bargain their way free. From there… well, the world is open to them. Perhaps they go join Ephemera in creating Scala, or perhaps they stay in Olympus and mark their names in the stars as heroes. This time, that’s a choice they have to make.

Solis:

Ahh Solis my sweet sunshine idiot… I’m afraid to say that you are… very doomed. The best I can do to say that his fate would be altered with his choices are if he also joins the Dandelions, but unfortunately that doesn’t save him because unlike Etheria, Yiskah, and Vale he doesn’t have friends in high places. Even if he survives the keyblade war, he’s stuck as a dream eater. He can help Sora out in DDD, though, so there’s that!

Rosalia:

Rosalia is much the same as Solis in she’s somewhat doomed no matter what she does as a Keykid, so why don’t we go earlier? If she hadn’t jumped aboard that particular pirate vessel, had instead grabbed the next one leaving port, perhaps she’d have instead landed on Captain Teague's ship, and found herself shadowing one Jack Sparrow as they worked aboard his father’s ship.

A particularly notorious pirate duo, they may go their separate ways for a time when he tries to leave the pirate life behind, but she rejoins his crew aboard the Black Pearl after Beckett brands him a pirate and burns his ship. Perhaps she dies in Barbossa’s coup, or perhaps she escapes and later - much later, once the world dies and is rebuilt over centuries - she stumbles over a boy with a brilliant smile and an endless will to help people with the strange key shaped blade of his. The adventure to defeat Barbossa, save Miss Swan, and reclaim the Pearl is a short one, but she finds him endearing nonetheless. Perhaps she’s even the one to give him the keychain, wishing him well on his long journey ahead.

#khocweek2023 #khux #kingdom hearts #keykid #union cross #one choice new life

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hollandorks · 3 years ago

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shadows in the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

chapter fourteen

summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happiness…set during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story

a/n: Look who’s finally written ahead enough to post twice in one week! Yay! I also couldn’t just leave you hanging about a cliffhanger like that. So, enjoy! Next chapter coming this weekend!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3062

Selina and Bruce were kissing.

Y/n watched with her mouth open in shock as Selina pulled away from kissing Bruce and said, “I told you, baby. I can take care of myself.”

There was no way Bruce kissed her on purpose. Not even if he was still angry at y/n. He wasn’t that kind of man. But jealousy and indignation clouded her gaze. Blood roared in her ears. For a second, she imagined punching Selina in the face.

But Selina didn’t know Batman was an engaged man. It wasn’t her fault. And she was grieving the loss of her friend–maybe more than a friend–with Annika’s death.

Y/n took a steadying breath just in time to hear Bruce say, “Don’t ever do that again,” in a low, dangerous voice. He had Selina by the wrist. She shrugged and flounced away, hips swaying as she walked to the elevator.

The jealousy still stung, but y/n settled. He couldn’t outright tell Selina he was taken, and that was fine. He was at least setting a boundary. She sat heavily in her usual chair and sipped her coffee.

“Sorry,” Bruce said over the comms after Selina was gone, somehow knowing y/n was listening. “I didn’t know what she was going to do.”

She flipped the switch that would let her talk to him–because Selina still had the other contact lens and earpiece that allowed for more direct communication. “Just don’t let it happen again, big shot.” But she kept her voice light, teasing. She could tell by his voice he felt guilty.

“Don’t worry,” Bruce said as he stepped into the empty elevator at the signal tower. “I only have eyes for one woman.”

“Don’t you forget it,” she said. He gave a breath of a laugh.

After he got in the Batmobile, he filled her in on his conversation with Selina. Selina was Falcone’s daughter, apparently, and wanted to go after Kenzie to find out what happened to Annika. Y/n wanted to help, but Bruce explained that there was more. The hesitation in his voice tipped her off that something else was bothering him.

Apparently the Riddler’s latest was all about the Waynes–Thomas and Bruce specifically. Y/n didn’t like the sound of that. She promised to wait on Bruce before she looked into it so that they could find out together.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

It didn’t take long for her phone to alert her of someone coming down the tunnels. Half a second later, she heard the roar of the Batmobile echoing around the space as the hangar door creaked open.

Bruce parked and strode to her. “I’m sorry,” he said again, kissing her. A thought flashed across her mind that Selina’s lips had just touched his. But she pushed it away and kissed him back.

“If it happens again, I’m going to punch you in the head,” she warned. The corners of his lips tilted upwards, but he was distracted, his eyes darting towards the computer.

Right, she thought. The Riddler had something to say about the Waynes after he already tried to kill Bruce.

She swallowed as he walked past her to the computers, pulling up the GC1 website while yanking off his gauntlets and gloves.

Every headline was about the Riddler.

The biggest headline was about the newest video from the Riddler.

Bruce clicked the link and it started to play as he slowly took off the cowl.

“I’m Thomas Wayne, and I approve this message.”

Bruce went utterly still at the voice playing over the speakers. His father’s voice. A voice he likely hadn’t heard in twenty years.

Music started playing over an old campaign video as Thomas Wayne continued to speak. “From a very young age, my family and Martha’s family, the Arkhams, instilled in both of us that giving back is not just an obligation, it’s a passion. That is our family’s legacy.”

Thomas Wayne For Mayor popped up on the screen next to the man’s face.

Y/n swallowed and placed her hand over Bruce’s. They were still wrapped up like a boxer’s.

A new voice spoke on the screen, sending chills up and down her spine. The Riddler. “The Waynes and the Arkhams. Gotham’s founding families. But what is their real legacy? Twenty years ago, one reporter set out to uncover the dark truth. He found shocking family secrets.” Pictures of newspaper clippings showed one after the other on the screen, including a headline of a wedding photo. Bruce’s parents. Her heart ached for him even as rage was kindled in her gut at the Riddler.

“How, when Martha was just a child,” the Riddler continued, “her mother brutally murdered her father, then committed suicide…” There was the noise of a gunshot on the video and y/n flinched. Her grip tightened in Bruce’s, whose hand remained totally limp as he kept his attention wholly on the video. Various images flickered across the screen, reflected in the blue of Bruce’s eyes. “…and how the Arkhams used their power and money to cover it up. How Martha herself was in and out of institutions for years and they didn’t want anyone to know. Thomas Wayne tried to force this crusading reporter into a hush-money agreement to save his mayoral campaign.” The Riddler’s voice rose in anger. Bruce leaned forward. Had he known any of this? There was a slight tremble to his hands that told her that maybe he hadn’t.

“But when the reporter refused…Wayne turned to longtime secret associate Carmine Falcone and had him murdered!” The Riddler started laughing as another gunshot went off. Bruce was shaking now, really shaking, as the video continued to play.

“The Waynes and the Arkhams, Gotham’s legacy of lies and murder. I hope you’re listening, Bruce Wayne.” The Riddler stepped onto the screen. “This is your legacy too. And Gotham needs you to answer,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “for the sins of your father.”

The video stilled for a second, and y/n thought it was over.

It wasn’t.

“One last thing,” the Riddler said, and a new picture popped up that made y/n stumble back a step. “Bruce Wayne’s fiance, y/n, if you’re listening…it isn’t too late. I for one know you’re against the lies and the corruption plaguing this city. After all, you’re the one responsible for taking down our dear old Mayor Williams, aren’t you?” There was a note in the Riddler’s voice that sounded eerily like…delight.

The picture–y/n’s picture from the ribbon cutting at the grand opening of the Gotham Project–shifted to Mayor Williams in handcuffs.

“That’s right. I know all about your time working undercover in the Iceberg Lounge as a confidential informant, all to get to the heart of the lies and the corruption that almost led to your death.” The Riddler giggled again, and another video began to play.

“Kill her,” Mayor Williams said on the video from y/n’s point of view of that night. Then the flash of security footage of her being wheeled into the hospital, passed out and bloody in her black gala dress on a gurney. Bruce flinched.

Y/n was shaking now too. She couldn’t tell if she was holding on to Bruce or if he was holding on to her.

The video cut back to the Riddler’s masked face. “It isn’t too late,” he repeated. “Your fiance has to answer for the sins of his father, but you still have time to get away from the corruption I know you hate. So I’m letting the world know what you’ve done for this city, what we should all applaud you for–for my…inspiration.” He whispered the last two words, and then said, “Goodbye.”

The video went dark.

Y/n finally read some of the other headlines on the GC1 website.

Wayne’s fiance outed as confidential informant in latest Riddler video.

Future Mrs. Wayne inspires Riddler’s crusade against corruption.

Bruce Wayne and fiance targeted by Riddler’s latest viral video.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She shook all over, with fear and rage and a thousand other emotions that whirled like a hurricane inside of her, stealing all of the air from the room until she saw stars from lack of oxygen.

Bruce shouted, and the workstation went crashing to the ground.

Y/n jerked in surprise and came back to herself. She stared as Bruce gripped his hair with both hands, panting hard.

“I–” she started, but no words came.

The Riddler had been inspired by what she had done last year.

The Riddler wanted her to distance herself from the Wayne’s supposed corruption.

The Riddler knew her name.

Y/n turned and threw up the omelet and coffee she’d had earlier. She heaved until nothing else came up, then gagged some more.

The Riddler knew her name.

He knew what she had done. He’d outed her as the confidential informant that had taken down a lot of very powerful men, and millions of people had seen it.

She sank into a crouch and covered her head.

“Y/n,” Bruce said. She blinked. She got the impression that it wasn’t the first time he’d said her name. Fire blazed in his blue eyes. He was angry and hurt. All that stuff about his parents, his family–

“Did you–fuck, did you know any of that?” she croaked. Her throat ached from throwing up and she winced. Bruce handed her a bottle of water. She twisted the top off and drank.

“I–” Bruce swallowed and looked away. “I didn’t.”

“Bruce, I’m so sorry, I–”

“I’m hiring extra security. Don’t go anywhere without me.” Bruce was on his feet again, dialing on his phone as he paced. “Not even the hospital. I’m going to call Gordon and have someone assigned to you and to Alfred’s hospital room in case–”

“Bruce,” she said, and something in her tone made him finally look at her. “I’m sorry. I–I didn’t know–”

“I’m going to finish this,” Bruce said firmly. “I’m going to keep you safe. Yes–this is Bruce Wayne…” He started talking to whoever was on the phone about extra security. The moment he hung up, he was on the phone with Gordon, who apparently had already tried to call her. She gazed absently at her phone at the missed calls.

The Riddler knew her name, and had called her an inspiration.

She was going to be sick again.

“I have to go,” Bruce said when he finished talking with Gordon. “I won’t be long, and then when I get back–I have to talk to Alfred, if he wakes up.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, finally emerging from the daze she’d been in. She stood on shaking legs. “Bruce–”

“I have to talk to Falcone. See if it’s true.” He didn’t look her in the eyes.

“You can’t go there!” she said. Her heart squeezed with fear. “You can’t just waltz in and ask to–to talk to a mob boss!”

“Yes, I can. Bruce Wayne can,” he said. His eyes were flints of steel when they met hers. She knew then that he wasn’t going to be persuaded. And could she blame him? He’d just found out, along with millions of other people, that his family’s past wasn’t as perfect as he’d always believed. She wasn’t sure if the Riddler could be trusted, but he’d been right about his victims so far, hadn’t he? Why would his information on the Waynes be fake?

Her heart squeezed at the thought that the Riddler was right, and Bruce’s father had had someone killed twenty years ago. That might even explain his parents’ deaths–someone out to get revenge on what he’d had done to that reporter.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She just wanted to grab Bruce and curl up in bed until everything with the Riddler was over or until Gotham was nothing but ashes all around them. Whichever came first. She was sick and tired of fighting and running and being afraid. She was tired of worrying herself sick over Bruce. The sudden childish urge to hide under the covers was almost overwhelming in its intensity.

“I’ll be back soon,” Bruce said. “Stay here, and be careful. Set the alarms and call Gordon if anything happens. He’s sending a patrol car out here to sit in the driveway as an extra precaution.”

Y/n nodded vaguely. “Please be careful,” she said. She didn’t think Falcone would try anything, but even if he didn’t, the Riddler still had his sights on the Waynes.

Bruce kissed her forehead. “You should get some sleep.”

She nodded and followed him upstairs to their room, where he washed the makeup from his face and put on a ratty outfit that said homeless person more than it said billionaire. She sat cross legged on the bed and watched him. She twisted her fingers around their blanket and again resisted the urge to drag him into the bed to hide from it all.

“Are you okay?” she asked even though it was a stupid question.

His shoulders were hunched like he was trying to disappear into himself. “No,” he said, and then he was gone with barely a goodbye.

That was fine, because y/n wasn’t okay either. It was too much. The implications of the Riddler knowing who she was, what she’d done, and telling the whole world–she couldn’t think about that right now or she’d scream. And what he’d said about Bruce’s father, about his family–what if it was true? What would that mean for Bruce?

She rolled over in bed. She should at least try to sleep, but she was too keyed up. It took a while, but she finally dozed off.

Right when she fell asleep, y/n’s phone started ringing.

Groggy, she answered it without looking.

“Hello?” she mumbled, eyes still closed, hoping it was either Bruce or the hospital.

It was neither. It was the GCPD.

The Gotham Project was on fire.

Y/n scrambled to get dressed while calling Bryn at the same time. When she didn’t answer, she tried Ollie, who picked up sleepily but woke quickly when she explained what was happening. He swore to meet her there even though she tried to tell him to stay home.

“I saw the news,” Ollie said before he hung up. “Is it true?”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Yeah. I don’t know about the stuff about the Waynes but…that stuff about me is true.”

“I always knew you were a badass,” Ollie said lightly. “No wonder a billionaire fell in love with you.”

For some reason, tears stung her eyes. “Yeah, well–” Her phone started buzzing with an incoming call. Bryn. “Hey, I’ll call you back, that’s Bryn.”

She was already sliding into her car in the garage at this point, more awake than she’d been when she’d first answered the phone.

“I’ll see you soon,” Ollie said then hung up.

“You got it,” she said. She switched the call to answer Bryn as she pulled out of the garage.

She quickly explained the situation. Bryn said she’d left not too long after Ollie. No one was staying in the cots they provided that night, so she’d locked everything up and left a sign on the door saying they would open again in the morning. That, at least, was a relief. No one would be caught inside as it burned.

“Everything was fine when we left,” Bryn said, her voice slightly panicked. “I swear. I–”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault,” y/n said.. “Stop freaking out.”

“How are you not freaking out?” Bryn asked.

“I am, but–until I know how bad it is…Look, I gotta go, I’ll text you when I figure out what’s going on.”

“I’m coming down there,” Bryn said. There was a police car in the driveway, as promised, and the officer was flagging her down.

“No, you don’t–”

But Bryn hung up before she could argue.

Y/n sighed, then rolled down the window to explain to the cop what was going on.

“Yeah, I heard over the radio. I’ll let them know to expect you, there’s already a unit on the way,” the woman said. “Stay safe.”

Y/n thanked her and pulled away, her heart drumming an anxious beat in her chest.

She called Bruce’s phone next, knowing he was busy and wouldn’t answer. She left a voicemail stating what she was doing, that the cops were going to be there and not to worry about her.

She saw the light from the flames from three blocks away. She slowed as she crept closer, the night air colored red and blue from the lights of police cars and firetrucks.

She parked on the same block as the restaurant and got out. An officer stopped her before she got too close.

Y/n couldn’t keep her eyes from the flames. “I’m–I’m the owner,” she said, stunned, as part of the restaurant’s roof collapsed with a crash. Even so far away, she could feel the heat of the fire.

“You’re the one from the news,” the officer said. He was a young guy, her age or maybe even younger. He flushed when her gaze whipped to him. There was a small mustache on his upper lip that made him look even younger instead of older like he probably wanted. “Sorry, I, uh…the video’s everywhere, and everyone knows you’re the one who runs this place…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I just–it’s cool, what you did for the city. I heard you almost died. So I just wanted to say that…you know, it’s cool.” He winced as he finally stopped stammering.

It was too much. The video, the explosion, Alfred, Bruce, the Riddler, all of it. And now this–her passion project on fire in front of her, burning to the ground as she stood by, unable to do anything. She knew, logically, that she’d be able to rebuild. Bruce would make sure of it. But on top of everything else, it was too much.

Y/n sank into a crouch, biting back a sob, as she watched the Gotham Project go up in flames.

Within a minute, Ollie was there, and then so was Bryn, and they held her and cried with her as all of their passion and hard work burned.

Next Chapter

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