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cynthiav06 · 2 days ago

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Respectfully, did Percy Jackson even have any character development throughout the original series?

He doesn't have any flaws. He chose to take the prophecy from Nico, but he was always going to be the prophecy child.

He's good at the start and good at the end with no development unless you count being traumatised and depressed from a war as development, which it's not.

Not trying to be rude, sorry if I seem rude.

Worry not. It's a perfectly reasonable question and should usually be applied to most character studies. Also, buckle up. This is going to be long. Very long. It took me a while to get the time to post this and even more time to actually get my thoughts together. Like a lot of time. (To anyone who doesn't want to read the horrid mess of a post this is there's a partition at the end, after which all the most important points are summarized. ) Just skip to that, but hopefully, someone reads this whole thing because it took me eons to write.

I can see why you think that way, and it is contributed more so by Rick's absolute incapability of not recycling the dead horse that is the original pjo dynamics. He has inhibited character growth from almost every single character where all their epiphanies and character change in the end amounts to nothing, and they regress back to how they used to be, and any and all deviations their personality had are either dismissed or suppressed.

Percy is the victim of the latter. In the first book, he was a child, not particularly concerned with saving the world or being a halfblood. His life had been worse enough, and the halfblood situation had made it abysmal. Percy was living goal by goal. He wanted to get through the field trip, then through the semester, then through the Gabe interactions all so he could finally see his Mom, the one good thing about his life. Then that upends completely, and his only reprieve, the trip to Montauk, his safe place becomes the start of a series of grand tragedies in his life.

Sure, he stayed at the Camp, not willingly but for safety. He had nowhere to go, his life had been turned upside down, his mother was dead, and he wanted to go home, to have his mother back. He couldn't have cared less about the Gods and the world ending, but as soon as Chiron mentions Underworld, Percy is back on solid ground. He has a goal again. Get Sally back. He does everything to reach that goal. He fights monsters, prays to a godly father he refused to acknowledge beforehand, manipulate the press and the Gabe situation, bargain with immortal deities and such, and negotiate his way out of most of those bargains. All the while keeping in mind that he has a traitor to deal with, but Percy is the definition of "deal with one thing at a time. If it's not an immediate concern, it can wait." He does all that and is rewarded for it by being able to live, getting his mother back, and a taste of the life he has doomed himself to, and he almost seems to accept it. He even wonders if Camp Half Blood could be his home.

We see Percy do this throughout all the books. He is constantly changing his intentions, his goals, and his opinions on everything. He is also caught in his internal conflict of being with or against the Gods. The thing is, Percy has very little time for reflection as he is jumping from one existential threat to another, and yet he still manages to grow in the small ways. You need to see it individually book wise rather than over the whole series as Rick messes up terribly with character arcs and developments of literally every other character.

He begins by not caring about Poseidon's existence or his proximity, but in the end, he, too, is beholden to the intrinsic need of having a father. He, too, wants Poseidon to care for him like a father and is therefore hurt by being called a mistake. He knows Poseidon claimed him as a weapon against Zeus so he could rectify someone else's mistakes and restore Poseidon's reputation; who if not Percy would understand this manipulation the best? But the best lies are the ones you want to believe in, and so Percy keeps his silence because, of course, he wants to believe his father genuinely cares for him and loves him. Who doesn't?

He didn't want to be the hero, but by the end of the first book, when he is called one, he doesn't dislike the feeling. He accepts if only a little that this is to be his life now, and as the series progresses, he adds to the pros and cons.

In the Sea of Monsters he is very happy that Gabe is gone and it's just him and his mother again but by the end of it he has gained a new family member in Tyson and is very happy of the fact. He even manages to get over his initial hostility of Clarisse somewhat when he understands her situation.

Titan's Curse is all about Percy learning about the number of forces at play in the world of demigods. He tries to get along with the Hunters and Thalia; it doesn't work. He ends up almost losing Annabeth, someone who he considers a close friend by now. And so we see Percy spiral a little, show more of his anger issues as he interacts with Thalia or even Young Nico just after Annabeth falls from the cliff. Angry and impatient, he goes on his own quest.

I know most readers remember it as Percy, Annabeth, and Grover or the main cast always working together, but it's almost never like that. Somewhere along the way, Percy always ends up doing his own thing, which works because he best works on improvisations. It's Percy's plans that always end up working the most more so than Annabeth's. Just putting it out there.

Then it's just Percy having the worst month of his life. Annabeth is in mortal danger. No one seems to be hearing his opinions between Thalia and the Hunters. Then Bianca dies and Percy because he is Percy is completely and utterly guilty over it.

Note that Percy says he will do his best to keep Biancs safe and not outright promise to keep Bianca safe. But his non-existent self-esteem and other factors withstanding he blamed himself for it completely. Then Zoe dies, and Percy has lost yet another person he thought he needed to keep safe.

Percy is angry at the gods, but he is not surprised by their actions. But he is Percy, and he is determined to change the ways of Olympus, so he pressures the Council and his father to keep the Ophiptaurus, the very creature that threatens to topple their rule. It's his small was of rebelling, and Percy is always rebelling against the gods in his own way, almost never playing into their hands because as much as he despises Luke, he agrees with Luke too and unless he finds a better way to deal with the situation than what Luke is employing he too would have to one day follow in Luke's footsteps.

Now Percy, who trusts Chiron, even thinks of him as a secondary father figure realizes that Chiron for all his compassion for mortals and demigods will always in the end do the bidding of the Gods'. So he makes the snap decision to hide Nico's parentage from Chiron and from everyone else because Percy realizes no matter how much he loves or cares for certain people in his life, they are beholden to answer to a higher power he cannot gainsay, so he will have to take some secrets to the grave. He learns that in the end, some things he needs to shoulder himself.

And of course, the guilt of Bianca's death is no lesser, so he does the only thing he thinks can give him some relief from it. He takes the prophecy for himself, saving Nico and hoping it's enough to alleviate himself of this bile inducing sensation in his gut called guilt that is swallowing him whole.

Now, the Battle of Labyrinth is the most crucial. This is the book with maximum stress on Percy from all ends. From Sally dating Paul and Percy having to prove he is worth Paul's confidence in him in Goode, from Annabeth who is quite literally snippy and passive aggressive through the whole book either due to Rachel or due to her own prophecy even though Rachel and Percy are the two people who got them all out. Then there's the Nico situation. He knows Nico is spiraling, which is making Percy spiral and further strengthening his own guilt. And on top of all this, the Luke situation. Percy is literally caught between an enclosed space, with all four sides closing in on him rapidly while he is fending off mortal danger.

All this repressed tension is fully let loose when he explodes Mt. Helen's. And this is the tipping point. Percy wants to take the choice of Calypso's Island if only briefly and not because he loves her or anything of the sort but because it's his one escape. From everything from his own doomed prophecy. Yet again, Percy is trapped by his own fatal flaw. Personal Loyalty. So he chooses to carry out his responsibility because he has given himself no other choice.

If that wasn't enough of self-realization, he is faced with the horrifying realization of the devastation his power has wrought. His loss of control has single handedly released the greatest threat to Olympus. Hephaestus tells Percy he doesn't know the limits of his own, and by the gods, does that terrify Percy. Up until now, Percy knew his powers were dangerous, but now he knows that he is also dangerous; that he is the real danger. And it's not a reality he wants to ever confront, so he coils his power and holds it tight in a leash. (It's why Percy's burts of power always begin with an unraveling sensation in his gut or something breaking inside himself)

He is somewhat soothed by Poseidon's reassurance because not only does Poseidon not blame him, he also solidifies Percy's faith that he is doing the right thing. And if Poseidon sprinkles in the fact that Percy is the favorite child then who is he to deny himself the comfort of such sweet lies because, of course, Percy thinks it's a lie and of course Percy basks in it. He knows better than to trust gods, he knows better than to trust even his own allies because at the times like this, they will do and say anything to appease him, after all the fate of Olympus depends on him, does it not? And neither the Gods nor the demigods will risk a falling out with him at times like this.

He asks his father if he can help but is denied because he is needed here. Then he does his job as told, and Charlie dies. It's on him. He is struck with twice as much guilt. Over Beckendorf, and then over the state of Atlantis. He asks again if he can help his father and is denied again yet scorned by his father's family, for he can't even help them with the mess he started (or so he believes).

This is why Percy goes with Nico's plan of using the Styx. Because he assumes Nico of all people who already hated him has no reason to curry for his favor. But he makes a mistake. After all, Nico needs his father's favor, and Hades needs Percy gone. Percy can't really blame the kid, but he does anyway because why not? He is angry, he is furious, and everything is slipping from his fingers. He is going to die. Everyone is going to die, and it's all on him. It's all his fault, AGAIN. So he rages at Nico because for at least one single moment, he wishes this were someone else's burden, especially Nico's, but Percy's taken it for himself, and it's too late to back out now.

So he fights and manipulates and negotiates. Titans, River gods, his own demigods. Because don't forget Percy knows there's a mole and that's also his problem. Everything is his problem. All that work and so many dead. Silena, Michael, Ethan, and many more on both sides, and he is trying everything he can to make it better to fix things because, again, he thinks it's his fault. Imagine doing all that, and Rachel tells him he is not the hero, and Percy bristles because no, he doesn't want to be a hero, but of course, it offends him. Because, if he's not the hero, then it's not his burden, and then what the hell is he doing all this for if, in the end, he is not the hero that can save Olympus? Does that mean he read the prophecy wrong, and now he is going to get everyone killed because he wrongly assumed he isn't the hero. He is angry and impulsive, and he snaps at even Hermes. Because now HE is spiraling.

And somehow, it's all over with Luke killing himself, and it dawns on Percy, the truth. So despite all the hate because why wouldn't there be hate, Luke has singlehandedly tried to kill Percy more than Percy can count, and he calls Luke the Hero. Makes the choice because he believes in Annabeth's faith and Hermes's faith in Luke. It pays off and that's all that matters.

Finally finally it is all over. the Gods owe him, and finally, he has an answer on the path he wants to take to change the gods. He denies immortality because he is Percy Jackson, he is Sally Jackson's son and he knows better than to let others dictate the flow of his life, because he has better plans than wasting away inside for eternity, dancing on someone else's tune. He fights for the demigods, the non-Olympian gods and their children who Olympus has failed to do justice to, for Nico, and in some way for himself.

Then it's not over at all because Rachel has taken Blackjack and Percy knows the truth of the Oracle and he loves Rachel far too much to let her even try. But it works and she is okay; he can't be with her but she is alive and she is okay and Percy is extremely grateful for that.

But then there's a new prophecy, and even though he tries to find some peace with Annabeth, he knows it's not over. It's never over for him. But he can forget about it until he can no longer afford to ignore it.

___________________________________________

Of course, Percy repressed his trauma. The last time he let it out, he released the literal bane of the gods out. Do you think Percy could live with something like that happening again? What choice does he have? There's no one who can understand him. NO ONE. Not even Annabeth.

You can see him accept his role as a leader and grow more into it. In son of Sobek or even in Son of Neptune. He is more serious and more authoritative because he has so many people depending on him, so many expectations hanging on him. We can also see Percy's anger issues get out of hand. He is spiraling, the readers know he is spiraling, and Percy knows, but he can't do ANYTHING. HE IS LITETALLY DYING OR BEING ATTACKED, HE CAN'T, HE JUST CAN'T.

BUT WE KNOW IT'S THERE BECAUSE WE CAN SEE HOW MUCH PERCY HAS GROWN INTO SUICIDAL TENDENCIES. AND HE CAN'T ACT ON THEM MOST OF THE TIME BECAUSE OTHER PEOPLE ARE DEPENDENT ON HIM AND HIS FATAL FLAW WON'T ALLOW HIM TO PUT HIMSELF OUT OF HIS MISERY.

BUT WHEN HE HAS DONE EVERYTHING HE POSSIBLY COULD, AFTER HOUSE OF HADES, HE LETS POLYBOTES'S POISON CHOKE HIM, ALMOST KILLING HIM IF JASON HADN'T INTERVENED. THANK GOD FOR JASON GRACE.

Percy was this sassy, heavily independent, "I do my own thing" kid and now he is someone with more responsibilities than anyone with most of his free will stripped and most of his hopes ruined or deemed impossible. IT'S TRAGIC AND IT'S EXCRUCIATING AND HE CAN'T DO ANYTHING BECAUSE HE THINKS IT'S MAKING OTHERS HAPPY. IT'S SUCH A HORRIBLE SITUATION. IMAGINE BOOK 1 PERCY? HE WOULD HAVE LET IT BLOW UP IN EVERYONE ELSE'S FACE BEFORE HE EVER LET HIMSELF BE SO BROKEN.

I have seen so many people say how Percy is the standard hero who is always good and never makes bad choices, and I wonder which books they read. Percy always makes the supposed "right" choices at the cost of himself. His fatal flaw enabling his moral compass and the sheer guilt of the lives lost. He can't escape. He hates the gods, he hates the quests but he loves his family and friends so dearly, there's nothing he wouldn't do for them which means Percy is suffocating, drowning, choking in his own misery, his repressed trauma,his self loathing and being crushed to death by the weight of lives, responsibilities and expectations only he can hope to fulfil.

And one day Percy won't be able to take it. His lapses of control will increase in magnitudes so great, his inner rage will level the world. Destroyer, like Athena predicted, Destroyer like Kronos wanted and Destroyer like his name means.

Not every hero needs a villain arc. Percy is inspiring because after all this shit and all these horrors. He is still good, but WE NEED TO UNDERSTAND THE TOLL OF IT. PERCY IS STILL GOOD BUT AT WHAT COST? LOOK WHAT IT'S DONE TO HIM.

Rick has such a great potential for an arc like that but he is going to fuck it up, I know he is but I hope readers realize where it's all leading to and how much Percy has changed and how much he has sacrificed. Also, @hermesmyplatonicbeloved , @ogjacksonsimp , @cynicalclairvoyantcadaver , @helenofsparta2, @fourcornersofcreation thoughts? Did I stray too far from the canon, or am I getting it right at least a little? Because this post took days, I have no idea what it has devolved into.

#percy jackson character study #i am no longer sane after this post #i am taking a break after this. it turned out to be so long #pjo headcanons #rr crit #percy jackson #percy and rachel #percy jackson and annabeth chase #hoo #percy jackson and the olympians #the seven pjo #jason grace #luke castellan #percy jackson supremacy

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magnoliasandarson · 3 days ago

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a sleigh of sorts

Dick wasn’t religious, he didn’t care for capitalism (even though he kept claiming billionaires for family), but he was absolutely determined to embody the Christmas spirit. Dick had to make things right- and to do that, he had to abduct his siblings.

He wasn’t doing this for selfish reasons, even if it might sound like this was for him. His siblings deserved a break; they deserved to feel loved and important. He owed them that. The gifts sitting on the floor in front of Tim’s legs were only part of the equation. Rounding them all up and being together was the much bigger part.

So maybe he was driving like a maniac through empty Gotham streets because Duke was walking alone in the dark on Christmas Eve. Sure, Duke’s an extremely capable hero, but Dick’s his big brother. It’s his job to worry. He worries about all of them, which is why he has a screen fixed above his radio displaying their real-time locations on a grid map of Gotham.

Tim had stared for all of five seconds at the tracking display before wisely deciding to drop it (Dick knew the younger had his own trackers), instead choosing to rapid-fire question the elder to determine the reason behind his new mentality, “Did Kori bring you weird candy again?”

Dick swung the pickup through a narrow corner, laughing when Tim muttered shit and reached for the handle above him, “Tim! Timmy! Timmers,” he turned down the best of the 80s channel just enough to be heard, “This is the holiday spirit! Get with it!”

He was so tired of the family being so dark and miserable; they were a family, they loved each other, and they could be happy for ten minutes. Was it so hard to believe that Dick wanted to be with his family?

Tim shifted so his back was against the door and fixed him with a look, lips barely forming get with it as he processed what was happening. Even if the younger was actively doubting his sanity, Dick was quietly ecstatic that Tim was even slightly playing along. It meant he didn’t hate him as much as Dick feared he did. Maybe there was still a shot at them being close again.

Without drawing attention to it, Dick reached forward and turned the dial on the heat up. He knew that Tim would be pissed if Dick asked him if he was cold, but he also knew that without a spleen, a cold could be a lot worse for Tim than the next person. He felt his brother’s eyes on his face but chose to keep staring ahead. If Tim wanted to talk, he would. Pushing with Tim never worked; Dick knew from pushing and fucking things up countless times.

Instead, Dick loudly sang along to Princes of the Universe by Queen while speeding hazardously toward the yellow dot on his map. Sue him, but he color-coded his siblings. Not like Bruce hadn’t done it first.

Tim finally snapped, slapping the dial on the radio to silence it before demanding, “Why are you trying so hard?” A glance away from the road showed Dick that Tim’s body language was completely closed off, posturing like they had all been trained to do during interrogations.

Dick pursed his lips; he didn’t want to be mad- he couldn’t be mad at Tim for not trusting him to have good intentions. He had screwed up enough with the younger over the years, but he desperately wanted to make amends. He just needed Tim to accept the olive branch for what it was, “Because you deserve it,” Dick tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles popped, “this family is beyond messed up, but it’s a family. You’re my brother- and that means something to me, Tim.”

Tim stared for maybe a minute, eyes dark and shining in the low light of the truck cab, before nodding once and turning the dial on the radio up, the loud sounds of I Wanna Dance With Somebody filling the now-heavy air.

Despite the tension hanging between them, Dick did what he knew to do, what all older siblings are obligated to do. He loudly sang along, putting his chest into every high note he could not reach. Even though Tim was definitely still dealing with emotional turmoil of his own, Dick caught him struggling not to smile at a spectacularly missed note.

“There!” Tim interrupted, gesturing out the windshield at Duke, standing frozen on the darkened sidewalk, staring bewildered at the hurtling pickup blasting Whitney Houston. His jaw dropped when it screeched to a halt directly in front of him.

“Heya, Dukey, wanna hop in?” Dick grinned as he turned the radio down.

Duke’s bewildered face soured at the nickname, “What-”

Tim cut him off as he leaned out the window, “C’mon, Dukey, it’s Christmas. Get with it.”

Dick felt his face burn with how wide his smile grew, his brother was humoring him, but he was having fun. He knew it. The plan was working.

Duke’s eyebrows furrowed aggressively as he and Tim had some sort of eye conversation that Dick wasn’t privy to before he shrugged, “Getting with it,” and hopped into the back seat.

The truck tires squealed as they took off, “Welcome aboard, Duke!” Dick turned the dial back up on the radio and started speeding to the purple and pink dots, “We’re on a mission to save Christmas; you in?”

Tim twisted in his seat to face the back, “Just say yes; otherwise, he gets emotional.”

“It’s true!”

Duke laughed, loud and bright, “Yeah, of course I’m in!”

Dick eyed his newest brother in the rearview, watching as he immediately clocked the blood-staining Tim’s shirt. It was funny listening to Tim bitch at someone else for being concerned. It was even funnier watching Duke smack Tim on the back of the head for “being a spleenless jerk with no self-preservation or decency to let other people be concerned about you.” People forget, but Duke was a poet. It made for hilarious arguments.

The trio sped down the mostly empty streets, and Dick felt lighter than he’d felt in a long time. He had some of his siblings with him- and they wanted to be there. They were going to go pick up Steph and Cass, ambush Jason before he could skip town, and coerce Jason into feeding them while watching holiday episodes of crime shows.

Easy enough, they were Robins, after all.

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holyguardian · 2 days ago

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The bath had been the most horrible part somehow. Strictly ordered by the Lucian King, and for good reason. But it shattered Aerith's heart hearing how Roran screamed and cried even with their father joining him. The pools of water, even if warmed and laced with delicate calming oils, were too big of a reminder of what he had endured.

It was the most miserable cleansing of her life. Not even washing out her endless curls made her feel any better... it was usually a time of silent reflection. Like meditation, where her fingers were kept busy, so she didn't fidget around and become distracted. On that day it only felt like a massive chore.

The sudden move was a welcomed one. There was less space, less privacy, and it no longer felt like they were tightly woven in a circle nestled all close together in a family home... but it felt right. It felt safe. Walls behind walls behind walls. Nothing could creep up on them under the cover of dark.

Aerith remained dressed down in very simple linen, her hair wilder than ever, freshly washed with her wavy spirals not restricted by any braids elaborate or otherwise. It somehow suited her.

When she answered a knock on her door, the last person she expected to find on the other side was Prince Somnus. She thought perhaps it would be her mother or father informing her that Roran had stirred from his nap.

On the other hand, Prince Somnus likely didn't expect to find her so... plainly.

She blinked and stared at the offering, accepting the clay pot from him before realisation washed over her. She looked up to him with an almost-smile, nodding her head in thanks. Roran would nibble these kinds of treats until the pot was bare.

Then Somnus asked after her and she answered with a deeply heaved sigh. Her foot stuck out and hooked on the wood door, pulling it wide and open so she didn't get into trouble for speaking with someone improperly behind closed doors.

"I can't complain, it's against royal protocol." she answered, placing the offering on a stand near the door so she wouldn't forget it on her way to Roran's chambers. She directed Somnus to come sit by the window with her. He could politely take a chair by the table. She sat against the window arch, briefly looking out into the garden.

"Roran... he is shaken up. But we gave him some some calming tea, apparently a strong brew, he's fast asleep being watched over by mum and dad. I was pretending I'd be able to find something fun to surprise him with but I couldn't think of anything good enough. When he wakes up I'll bring those sweets to him, baked goods are actually his favourite. He's always swiping them from the kitchens." she explained, her thoughts a jumbled mess.

Lowering her eyes, she kicked up her leg to show off her footwear. "Pretty sure I stole your sandals from the closet. You're not getting them back." It was a meaningless little comment. Something to make things lighter, as he had put it.

This was far from how this morning had been supposed to end. But all had panned out well… enough. Somnus watched until Aerith and Roran were safely gathered up in their parents’ arms. Nothing could happen now. Like an ocean’s wave that tension washed over and off him.

His own parents were less emotional. They knew he would be fine. Their own relief was apparent upon seeing the prince and princess well and healthy. This would have been the worst. Not just a scandal but a true tragedy, if their guests’ children would have perished here.

The queen briefly looked him over, a small thank to the gods. While the king gave Somnus a nod with a quiet order to take care of this. He knew what to do. The soldiers were quickly instructed. The body should be removed from the cave and burned away from any fields or orchards or villages. Other servants called to take care of prince Roran and princess Aerith. A bath was in order after this, to ensure nothing of the Starscourge clung to them.

He wanted to talk to Aerith. But the Princess was busy, conversing with the Queen. Only what she said rang a memory in Somnus’ mind. From far ago lessons. Jenova.

There would be no grand announcements this day. There was work to be done. The Lucian royals were at task with the army, combing through the nearby caves and forests for any sign of further Daemons.

The castle was bustling, though quietly. The royal family of the farmlands had been removed from the villa by the orchards, instead being placed within the castle walls itself. The chambers allotted to them there weren’t as spacious as the villa itself, but they had been welcomed to use any and all they needed from the Lucian family.

Walking by the archway that afternoon, Somnus could see the scales of Nidhogg between the bushes, moving slowly as he breathed. There was a quiet noise coming from him, like a dog whimpering. The dragon probably feeling the boy’s fear.

At least Somnus imagined that as he passed by.

Knocking on the doors that he guessed would now be Aerith’s rooms, he felt strangely empty. Neither a bath nor trying to find anything in their library had given him more answers about a ‘Jenova’. But was that really important now?

He would have smiled upon seeing Aerith opening the doors, but this day was not suitable for smiles. Still, Somnus held up a shallow clay pot.

“Here. Sweet baked goods from our kitchen. I thought Roran might enjoy them… they are said to make things lighter…”

That sounded awful. Somnus almost cringed at his own words. Of course the boy would be terrified now. But he hoped Aerith would understand the sentiment. She did not look lighthearted either.

“… how are you doing?”

#somnus-lucis-caelum #verse; star crossed

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dolledtaesan · 2 days ago

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THE TEMPTATION

KIM DONGHYUN X READER

WC. 3.2k | WARNINGS: Stalker!Leehan, Sub kinda bratty! f!reader, Use of Leehan’s real name ( Donghyun ), takes notes of you and watches you through security cameras, leehan and reader are roommates, unprotected sex ( don’t do ! ) kinda mean leehan!, degrades reader a little!, teases reader , pussy eating!, orgasm denial!, after care and a little fluff at the end!

ageless blogs + minors DO NOT INTERACT

There were only two issues about Donghyun that bothered you, your growing feelings towards him and how secretive he is about his personal life, especially with the journal he carries around. He’s constantly writing little notes into his journal and slams it close when anyone comes anywhere remotely close to him while he’s writing and he gets very fidgety when someone touches his journal as well.

This particular morning, Donghyun was leaving in a rush to avoid getting another absence in his attendance. You, on the other hand, surprisingly had no plans that day. No classes, day off from work, no plans with friends due to them having work or classes, or both. An hour went by as you sat on the couch watching your favorite television show when your eye finally caught attention of Donghyun’s secret journal on the coffee table where you laid your feet. Your eyebrows raised in curiosity while you crossed your arms across your chest, forgetting about the show even existed for a minute as your mind wandered of the contents the journal could contain.

No. You couldn’t. Donghyun is not only your roommate but a good friend of yours , and your crush of course. You had to respect his wishes of not messing with his journal, but.. what if the journal happened to fall on the floor… leaving the journal open.. then it wouldn’t be your fault that it was opened and read, right ..? You sat there trying to convince yourself to push it off the coffee table and trying to justify your reason as if he was standing over you in the room. You could swear it was like he had his eyes on you, watching you. You felt a shiver down your spine and looked around for a moment before sighing. He’s not even here, he’s at school, why are you freaking out.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously as your heart raced, wanting more and more just to kick the journal off the coffee table just to see what’s inside. In swiftness, you looked away quickly and kicked it off the table. Hearing the plop on the floor, you instantly jumped to your feet and went around the coffee table to see the journal.

Only to find it still close on its back.

Fuck it.

As if your body had a mind of its own, You quickly went down and sat on your knees while you picked up the journal and flipped to a random page. Your stomach dropped as you read what was written but you couldn’t even stop yourself reading more and more.

May 30th, 2023

Today is Y/N’s birthday and of fucking course she went to school in the most beautiful outfit i’ve ever seen on any human ever. I couldn’t stand staying at home for even another minute thinking and imagining all the people that are going to stare at her, what they are gonna say, what they could possibly do, what they are even thinking when they see her walk by, the way men could just eye fuck her as they walk by . It’s gotten easier to follow her when she leaves out in public, distancing myself enough to not be weird and to still see them and anyone who could surround her from any angle. I told myself to wait in the cafe across from her classes but I couldn’t. I physically couldn’t pull myself away from her surroundings, I can’t and I hate being away from her all the time. I’m sitting in the back of her class pretending to be a student which was easy to do. What wasn’t easy to do was listening to this fucking guys talk about which one could “ bag her first and get her in bed first “ , I was shaking in anger and I had to hold myself back with everything in me to hurt them-

June 5th 2023

It’s midnight, around the time Y/N touches herself and she always tries to stay quiet for me. She’s so cute like that, even cuter when she can’t stay quiet and I can hear her whimpers and whines through the walls. Fuck. I can hear how wet she is. I bet she tastes so.. good. I don’t just need her, I crave her, all the time, everyday. I think about her making those noises for me, how beautiful she would look under me, squirming under my touch, how sensitive is, how tight her pussy is, how her lips would feel on my body, I need her like a drug-

June 15th, 2023

I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, everyone always asks me why I’m angry at school on the day’s Y/N is at home and it’s because LIKE I SAID I CANNOT STAND BEHIND AWAY FROM HER LIKE THIS. She asked me last night why i was gone so late last night and it was the cutest thing ever, but it’s all for her, I had ran around town looking for security cameras for the apartment and-

If you weren’t already in shock from the pages you’ve been reading about yourself, your jaw had practically smacked the floor when you read the last line. You dropped the journal onto the floor subconsciously, quickly looking around the apartment for where the cameras could be when suddenly you heard the keys furiously opening the door followed by the door being slammed closed.

“ Y/N, we need to talk!” Donghyun’s voice echoed through the apartment as you scrambled to your feet, collecting yourself and sat on the couch again, pretending like nothing happened when he probably already saw you from said cameras.

“ U-Uhm, Yeah w-what’s up?” You responded back, looking at your phone, pretending to be texting while you continued to freak out, feeling your heartbeat race as his stomps grew closer to the living room.

You looked up from your phone to see Donghyun staring at you, his face flushed in a bright red, his tongue poking the inside of his mouth while he crossed his arms across his chest, his eyes, dark, digging into you. “ What were you doing ?”

“ I was watching netflix.. and making plans for late-“

“ cut the fucking bullshit, Y/N” He spat at you, your gaze immediately avoiding his, looking anywhere but him. Fidgeting with your hands not knowing what to do next, but somehow, this also excited you. You could gradually feel the heat rushing to your core, you rubbed your thighs together and bit your bottom lip. Donghyun scoffed, walking over to you, grabbing you by your hair as he forced you to look up at him. Before looking into his eyes you noticed the tent forming in his pants, making your face turn into a bright red when you looked into his eyes.

“ I just fucking caught you reading in my journal, and you’re turned on by this, aren’t you?” He spoke in a low tone, you looked away from him again for a second before he grabbed your face again.

“ answer me.” He groaned, you nodded your head immediately in embarrassment making him laugh.

His smile turned into an evil-like grin, “ you’re acting much cuter than I could have ever imagined..” He crouched down to your height, holding his weight with his hand on the couch behind you while he leaned in and took in a big sniff of your scent. You sat there as your body tensed up, he’s never been this close to your body before in such a way. The hair on your body standing as he smelled your body, he leaned in as he stuffed himself in the nook of your neck, taking in more of your scent. Slowly making his way down your body as he continued, his nose dragging down your breast and your stomach while moaning against your body. You closed your eyes gently, starting to breathe heavily with need. Watching Donghyun slowly lose himself on you, made you lose your absolute mind and made you crave him more than you ever have.

Donghyun lifted himself off of you with a big but soft moan that escaped his lips while tilting his head back. He looked back into your eyes as you sat with your hands in your lap, thighs rubbing against each other with your face in a bright color of pink and your chest rising and falling as you breathed heavily. “ Do you see what you do to me?” He said while grabbing your thighs firmly “ now you’re gonna see what bad girls get when they don’t listen to me”

Donghyun got up and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up and lifting you over his shoulder with ease. You whined and squirmed around, fighting against him as if you didn’t want this to happen but in reality, you’ve dreamed of nights like this. He striked your ass with a hard spank causing you to let out a loud, high pitched moan. You covered your mouth as he laid you down on the bed, embarrassed. Donghyun smiled as he hovered over your body, he kissed up along your body because even though this was a punishment, this was his first time doing something with you and still wanted you to feel his love through his touches, and you very much did feel that. Your heart fluttered as he kissed along your body, his hands slowly caressing your body as they made their way up, grabbing your wrist and holding them above your head. “don’t do that again.. I want to hear you..” He mumbled while he looked into your eyes, you stared into his eyes and melted, nodding your head in agreement.

He slowly inched down your body once again, and stopped at the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked up at you with curious eyes “ Can I..?” He asked and you nodded yet again but that caused him to shake his head “ yes or no.” he asked firmly and you chuckled, nodding your head again “ yes, Donghyun..” you responded and he grinned. He grabbed at your shorts and tugged them off your legs and tossed them to the floor. Your hand went flying to cover yourself but Donghyun is always one step ahead. He grabbed your wrist in time and pinned them above your head “ don’t fucking move them again. I want to see you, all of you.” he spoke out before looking down and couldn’t fight off the smirk when he saw the wet patch that was forming on your underwear. “ all this.. for me?..” He asked as he ran his middle and ring finger down your pussy, causing you to tense up for a moment and let out a soft whimper “ y-yes..”

He bit his bottom lip as he watched his fingers glide on your underwear, spreading the slick more along your underwear and watching the wet patch grow. “ fuck..” he groaned lowly, You watched him with your mouth hung open as soft, little moans were spilling out your lips the more he teased your cunt. Donghyun finally brought his fingers to your clothed clit, rubbing in smooth, fast circles, he looked up at you watching as you let out a loud gasp. Watching while your hands gripped onto the bed sheets below you, your knuckles turning white the closer and closer he brought you to your orgasm, quickly feeling the knot form in your stomach. Taking notice of how wet you’ve become and how your body was reacting, he pulled your panties to the side as quickly laid down on his stomach bringing his face to your cunt as his tongue attacked your cunt like a wild animal.

Even with your fingers alone, you’ve never felt your orgasm on such a level like Donghyun did for you, your legs squeezed in his head as your hands flew to his hair, tangling your fingers into his locks. Until suddenly, you could feel the rush slowly leaving your body. You looked down quickly as you see Donghyun’s face covered in your slick, with a big fucking grin on his face. You threw your head back into the pillow and whined loudly “ why did you fucking do that” You pouted and he scoffed, hovering over your body as he leaned in close, kissing along your neck teasingly “ because, bad girls don’t get what they want so fucking easily. “

You looked up at him, sexually frustrated to have your orgasm stripped away from you. Eyebrows scrunched together while you pouted angrily which quickly faded away as you watched Donghyun grab the ends of his shirt and pull over his head onto the floor. Your hands subconsciously moved forward, running along his chest and abs before grabbing your wrist quickly “ what did I just fucking say, Y/N. You’re so dumb for me and my cock aren’t you? “ He spat before letting out a chuckle while he started to unbutton and slip off his pants revealing his big cock that was being restricted in his boxers that were stained in precum , your mouth watered as you imagined how full his cock would make you feel. You looked up at his eyes as his face was flushed yet again but he rolled his eyes trying to keep his act together.

He grabbed the end of your shirt and looked into your eyes for confirmation “ yes donghyun..” you reassured him, he leaned in and kissed your forehead before pulling the shirt off your body and onto the floor. You leaned in and grabbed the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him with puppy eyes, he laughed and looked away from you shyly, nodding his head “ yes, Y/N, jeez you make this hard you know?” He stated which made you giggle. You slowly pulled his boxers down, watching his hardened cock that was covered in precum, hit against his stomach, he groaned as the cold air hit his cock and as it hit his stomach. You looked up at him biting your lip before officially throwing his boxers off the bed.

In this moment it was as if you both had the same mind, you both leaned in, grabbing at each other, pulling each other in closer to your bodies, connecting them together as your lips clashed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers again in his hair as he grabbed your body pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around your body. His kiss was so messy, so needy with desire for more, his tongue exploring deeper into the kiss. The both of you moaning into each others mouth within the kiss, you felt your body heat up as you could feel his hard cock twitch against your wet cunt, begging for it to be inside already. He pulled away from the kiss, resting his head against your forehead as he grabbed your waist, positioning his cock at your entrance.

Due to what he had done before with your pussy, leaving it wet with arousal for him, made it easier for him to slip inside and bottom out. Your eyes widened as you felt all of him inside of you, looking up at him with your mouth hung open and he looked at you the exact same. The feeling of your warm pussy, suck him into your cunt, gripping around his cock so perfectly. “ fuck.. It’s like you were made for me.” He moaned out into your ear. He has very clear and obvious plans to punish you, but his desire for you and to make the both of you feel good were even stronger than those plans.

He grabbed at your thighs as he pulled out all the way until his tip was the only thing left inside of you before slamming himself back into you, thrusting into you at a rough, fast, rhythm and pace. Donghyun leaned into your neck, kissing, biting, licking leaving various marks along your neck while keep his exact same pace and rhythm, making you lose your mind. You felt as if you were in a different universe, your nails grabbing onto his shoulders and scratching down his back as pleasure was racing through your entire body, you would have to apologize later for the scratches but that’s a problem for later you. You finally felt that same feeling from earlier, your orgasm was approaching faster than before since he left you breathless the last time with no finish and you could tell he was quickly appearing his orgasm as well.

His thrust and rhythm were gradually becoming messy and uncoordinated unlike how they were a few minutes before. He threw his head back as he felt the walls of your pussy gripping him like crazy, throwing him closer to his orgasm. “ I-I need to pull out- f-fuck” He moaned out, furrowing his eyebrows as he concentrated on only pleasuring you and holding off so he could cum on you until-

“n-no! p-please- cum i-in me p-please donghyun- c-cum with me!” You moaned out loudly into his ear while tightening your legs around his waist which is what set him off. He threw himself quickly to your lips, messily connecting your lips again as you both chased your orgasm. Yours happily reached before he did, you pulled away from the kiss, with a string of spit between your lips as you screamed out his name in pleasure and grabbed his hair roughly. Coating his cock in your cum as he quickly followed, he leaned into your neck and moaned loudly against your skin, filling your pussy with his cum. He continued to thrust but at a slow pace into you to come down from both of your highs and finally stopped when your body jumped from overstimulation. You put your hand on his chest and he laughed breathlessly, slowly pulling out of your pussy with a soft moan and watched as some of his cum dripped out of you.

He looked up at you as you laid on your back against the mattress, completely and utterly fucked out, trying to catch your breath as your hair was a mess. He smiled softly at you and he was also catching his breath, admiring your body for its beauty. He kissed along your body and trailed up to your lips, kissing them softly. “ Stay right there, don't move..” He mumbled against your lips before getting up off the bed, leaving the room and coming back in a few seconds later with a towel and wet wipes. He leaned in and cleaned your body from sweat and cum from the both of you. After cleaning himself as well, he laid down next to you’d cover the both of your naked bodies with the blanket and looked over at you. You smiled softly, chuckling softly as you leaned in and messed with his hair “ so what happened to you punishing me, hm Donghyun?”

“ keep talking and you’ll see it happen, baby”

#bnd hard thoughts #bnd hard hours #boynextdoor hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard hours #bnd x reader #bnd smut #bnd imagines #leehan smut #leehan x reader #leehan x y/n #leehan x you #leehan hard hours #leehan hard thoughts #boynextdoor smut #smut

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gotham-daydreams · 10 hours ago

Text

Suspicions

Day 3 {Challenge Masterlist}

Getting close, but not close enough. Something's wrong here. How could they have known? Who did this?

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of suicide (only briefly talked about in dialog), cults, occult like acctivites, weird behavior (?), arson (sort of).] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)

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Unlike the previous two days, this one starts off rather eventful - which is honestly more common and normal than anyone in the Wayne family liked to admit, but really, it wasn’t their fault they all just worked better in chaos. Nevertheless, for those that weren’t up already, the day is smooth sailing until they exit their rooms - or wherever they slept - and are left to find what’s happened in the batcave.

Tim is one of the last to find out, as he just gets his slow morning started - grabbing a cup of tea to help him wake up instead of coffee, rubbing his eyes to get the tiredness out of them, and starting things off officially with a plate of breakfast. Once that’s done and out of the way, he finally gives himself a good, simple stretch before heading down to the batcave. It’s only there, does he see the mess unfolding.

It’s subtle, sure, but with how long Tim has technically been a Wayne, well, he can tell when something’s going on. Bruce is drinking coffee, and Cassandra, while out of the suit, already looks to be itching to put it back on again. Tim noticed that Stephanie had slept over while he was on his way to the kitchen earlier, but didn’t think much about it - though what caught his attention was the fact that not only was Jason here, but that he was awake. Huh.

“What’s going on here?” Tim asks, voice having its usual echo as he takes a sip of his tea, approaching the little crowd by the batcomputer - taking note of Barbara’s presence as well, have any of them slept?

Cassandra seems to take note of him first, and perks up, though just as she goes to supposedly explain what they’re doing, Jason cuts her off. Instead, he straightens himself out, and asks, “Hey, have you or any of your birds seen anyone weird around, lately? Like, extra shady or just new? Like they come from out of the city?”

Tim raises a brow at the question, “This is Gotham? Every other person looks like someone shady- and what does ‘extra shady’ even mean? And besides, Gotham is a big city, newcomers come in and out everyday,” he points out, and though his response only gets an annoyed groan out of Jason, he can’t help but remain curious, “why? What’s going on this time?”

Jason seems to ignore Tim’s own question, and instead asks, “Okay, have you seen anyone with some weird symbol on them? Something simple that represents a sun, maybe on their neck, wrists, arm, or just some exposed part of their body?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Just as Jason looks like he’s going to throw something, or someone, Tim adds, “but I think a few of the birds have, and- hey, some new officers came in from Metropolis, right? What’s up with that?”

Just as Jason goes to open his mouth again, Cassandra gives him a nudge, and gestures for Tim to come over.

From there, he’s given the gist, and he has the reasonable reaction of just, being confused. While he understands what’s going on, what he doesn’t get is the supposed group itself. While they do seem to be working towards this ‘Red Dawn’, is it something they’re working towards, or merely preparing for? Is there something on that specific day that will happen, and will allow… well, whatever they’re hoping for, to happen? There are a lot of things that are undetermined, but Tim is on board with the general goal - they have to learn more about these people, what they want, and put a stop to it since it has to be something bad that people are killing themselves over it. You were right when you said that the only people they were hurting were themselves, but they were still people, and what if their influence spreads? What if they rope in more people, only for them to die-

Duke rushes into the cave, a smile of sorts on his face and he hurries around the space, gathering a few things here and there - mostly his gear, but some other things too - quickly, as if in a hurry. It was hard not to notice, seeing as he was the only real movement going on in the room and it drew the attention of those at the computer. Tim was the first to question it, asking, “What’s the rush?”

“Patrol!” It was an easy enough answer, but something felt off about it, though Tim couldn’t put a finger on it - no one really could, but those that were paying more attention did notice something.

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” Barbara points out, and Duke pauses, chuckling briefly before grabbing his helmet.

“Right- thanks! Anyway, gotta go-!” With that, the young vigilante rushes out of the cave after hurriedly putting on his suit and gear. A few of those in the cave stare, raising a couple of brows or just looking confused before ultimately returning to what they were doing – even if such a sight weirded them out. Cassandra, however, couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the sight as she watched Duke rush out of the cave.

He seemed… really excited to be going on patrol… hm.

Duke could hardly focus on where his feet were going as he rushed out of the house, a warm sort of feeling blooming in his chest as he made his way out of the cave, and through the front door – nearly bumping into someone on the way out. Even if he was able to just barely move out of the way, a quick, “Sorry! I’ve really got to go, Selina!” Leaves him, the words tumbling out of his mouth like how he almost trips over the single step in front of the door. Leaving behind a confused but amused catwoman all the while.

Getting to the city is easy enough, and even more so with a small tug in his chest seemingly guiding Duke somewhere. Does he know where? Not particularly, but he can’t help but have a good feeling about this.

Dropping down in an alley, Duke peaks around a corner to get a glimpse of the city before slipping out – only to bump into someone… somehow.

Shaking it off, he goes to say something – only to stop himself when he sees who it is, what a coincidence. “Oh, [Last Name], what’re you doing here?”

You glance over your shoulder, and raise your brow at the sight of the teenager, “Grabbing breakfast? Why else would I be waiting in line at this breakfast spot?” A small, amused chuckle escapes you as you offer a hand to help him up, and it’s only then that Duke notices he fell at all.

“Oh! Yeah, that… um, makes sense?” Grasping your hand, he pulls himself up and glances to the side awkwardly. This wasn’t very professional, was it? As a vigilante, he was supposed to be better than this – and more, well, vigilant! He had to get it together, he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you!

Clearing his throat, Duke meets your eyes once again, “Seems like things are busy here, huh?” Just what the hell was he trying to do? Duke couldn’t understand – he had patrol to do, he couldn’t just sit here and make small talk-

“I guess you could say that, it does seem busier than it has been the last few days, but nevermind that- what’re you doing here, Thomas?” Your grip loosens on his hand, but Duke can’t find it in himself to let go. Not after what you just said, and so casually at that – like knowing his secret identity was common knowledge and not, well, secret!

Duke’s mind races, with him staring at you like your face alone will provide all the answers, and in the midst of his disbelief, a breathless, stunned, “What?” Slips past his lips, and your brows seem to furrow.

“Is something wrong, Thomas-?”

“How-” Duke can barely even speak, his eyes blown wide. He wants to pull away, but it’s like your hand is the only thing keeping him grounded – making him almost hate how real it feels, especially as his hold tightens. With him now grasping onto it like he’s both afraid to let go, and desperate to cling onto something, but what? Duke doesn’t know. Hell, he’s almost scared to know, and that confuses him even more. “How do you know who I am?” It’s a simple question, but it’s spoken so quietly and hesitantly that it’s like Duke himself is unsure if he should’ve spoken at all, or if he even said it to begin with. As if, for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he managed to speak at all, or if his eyes and the way his hand shook had asked the question for him.

It’s beyond confusing, and honestly making Duke’s head hurt the more he tries to make sense of everything. The world spins, and yet zeros in on this moment at the same time, and Duke almost feels like he’s about to fall or even collapse all over again-

Then, he sees your smile and how you turn more towards him, and it’s like he can breathe all over again.

“Well, you’re adopted- or at least being taken care of by Mr. Wayne- aren’t you? It’s pretty hard to not know you, Thomas, especially in Gotham. Which- is sort of like Mr. Wayne’s little empire, don’t you think?” You respond easily, words almost playful as you carefully rest your other hand over his – most would pull away or tell him to stop because of how much it hurts, but you don’t. Almost like you can’t feel it, or just see how much the small action means to him – to hold onto something steady, unmoving, and undeniably real in this moment of confusion, dread, and fear. Maybe it’s both, but who’s to say.

Duke struggles to respond, only managing to stutter out an, “I-” a few times before you decide to spare him once more.

“Granted, I’m surprised to see you out and about so early. A growing boy like you needs his rest, doesn’t he?” Your fingers brush against the back of his hand, and it’s only then that Duke realizes that he’s feeling it on his skin, not though his gloves or suit – and he finally looks down. When… did he put on civilian clothes?

Regardless, he can’t help but ease. The tight tension in his shoulders drops, and Duke exhales, relieved. “Right- well, I was just out grabbing a quick bite to eat. Always good to get outta the house, yeah?” He replies easily, the excuse coming easy to him – and as if on cue, his stomach rumbles… Did he eat breakfast this morning? When’s the last time he’s forgotten something like that?

Your expression softens, and you give a small shrug, “‘Suppose you’re right, can’t really argue with that.” You glance down at his stomach before looking back at the teen, and pull your hand back – an action that makes Duke’s hand twitch before he lets it fall back to his side. “How about you join me?”

Duke can’t help but be taken aback by your request, and stammers a little as he straightens up and says, “I couldn’t- I can’t-”

“Oh, c’mon. It’ll just be a little bite, and besides, I’ve already got a table. Breakfast’s on me, yeah?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“[Last Name]?” A waiter calls out, causing you to perk up.

“Ah, that must be it! Now, c’mon,” you gesture for Duke to follow you inside, “I promise I won’t keep you long. But consider this my thanks for yesterday- I definitely underestimate how big Gotham really is.”

The young vigilante hesitates, unsure if he should follow you or try to decline again. After all, he still had patrol – and with this weird group going around, he couldn’t afford to just go off and push aside his duty for breakfast, could he? In situations like this, it was best to stay on top of things and remain vigilant, wasn’t it?

Duke feels his stomach growl much more insistently this time, and he can practically feel the painful pinch of the void growing inside it… It wouldn’t be good if he did patrol on an empty stomach, would it? After all, he had to be in top shape to properly perform his duties, right? Being on an empty stomach wouldn’t do him any good, and would only hinder him further…

“You comin’, Thomas?” The teen’s feet before he could fully process your words, but he offers a nod and agreement all the same.

Bruce would understand, right?

The waiter leads you and Duke to a booth, and from there, things go smoothly. The silence isn’t as bad as one would think, and for those that didn’t know any better – they’d think you were friends or had some friendly relation since conversation flowed seamlessly and easily. It wasn’t long before your orders were made, with you encouraging Duke to order whatever he liked, and the wait was practically nonexistent. Though, that’s only to be expected when you two got along so well. It may have been weird in any other circumstance, but here, it wasn’t. It was natural, just like everything else was.

Really, only those on the outside looking in could notice anything, and someone eventually did.

Cassandra had felt that something was weird, and with how Duke’s body language had read this morning, she couldn’t help but be curious. Not to mention worried, especially since they had enough things to worry about. So, seeing her brother eating with a cop from Metropolis was… weird to say the least. It felt weirder knowing it was you for some reason, but she couldn’t explain why. You couldn’t have possibly been the reason for Duke’s excitement, could you? No, that didn’t make any sense – unless… you knew each other previously? Would Duke have left something like that out?

Just seeing something like this spawned too many questions, and Cassandra wasn’t getting any from standing across the street. Especially not when your body language reads as calm, happy, and oddly enough – full of energy, along with a trace of confidence. With Duke being almost… too happy, too calm and content for someone that was supposed to be a stranger. You were helping them on the case, of course, but they didn’t know you as civilians. They weren’t supposed to, and yet Duke didn’t have the suit on – where was it?

… She could stand there until you both left, but something told her that wasn’t going to get her anywhere either. Something told her that she had to approach, if only to confront you and get Duke out of there herself. To help him get back on track if anything, and to get some sort of explanation if she was smart about things.

So, approaching the establishment, Cassandra steps inside and wastes no time heading over to where you and Duke are sitting. Resisting the urge to just grab you by the collar and get answers out of you, she simple rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze – which is more than enough to grab your attention.

Looking up at her, a confused expression passes by before another bright smile rests and makes itself home on your face. “Ah, You must be Cain, correct? Or would you prefer Cain-Wayne?” A light laugh escapes as you add, “It’s a bit of a tongue twister, but the choice is really yours, young one.”

Surprised, Cassandra can’t help but blink before her expression hardens and he brows furrow. Taking note of her confusion, you simply say, “I haven’t been here for long, but word travels fast in Gotham! Besides, who wouldn’t know about the children Mr. Wayne has taken in? You’re all a very common topic amongst the city folk, and from your expression – I’m willing to assume you’re surprised to hear that.” There was something in your tone that made those last few words of yours almost sound sarcastic. Cassandra couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it made her narrow her eyes all the same. What were you trying to get at-?

“Cass?” Hearing Duke’s voice makes Cassandra glance at him for a moment, and the look in his eyes rubs her the wrong way. He shouldn’t have an expression like that, not for a stranger, even if you are from Metropolis. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were still… home.” The small pause in his words doesn’t slip past her, and it certainly doesn’t make Cassandra feel any better either, but it isn’t enough to make her leave.

Even as she doesn’t say anything, her eyes say enough, and you notice how Duke tenses slightly while under her gaze. You don’t understand what they’re saying, or whatever they seem to be communicating, but you’re not bothered by it. Communication was a universal thing, after all, and you’ve seen many people find all sorts of ways to do it – with or without words. It’s something you’ve picked up on with time, but that’s a given considering things.

Nevertheless, you speak up and interrupt… whatever it is that’s going on here. “Why don’t you join us, Cain? Thomas was just finishing up, but it’s like they say; the more the merrier!”

Cassandra seems taken aback by your offer, and so does Duke, but you only focus on her for now. Despite not having said a word, it’s like you can feel her growing quieter, and just as you go to say something else, she glances at Duke before promptly taking a seat next to him – nearly pushing him towards the window just to create some space for herself.

Naturally, Duke responds with a surprised, “Hey!” At the sudden intrusion of his space, but ultimately does little to get it back, and instead moves over to grant Cassandra her desired space.

From there, you carry on as you did before, but the younger ones across from you seem awkward – you can’t decipher a reason for this, not on your own, but a few eventually come to you and you try to work around it as best you can. At the start, things are strained and it’s obvious that there is something more than what both are deciding to show. Which, while smart, is inconvenient at best.

Regardless, you do what you can to spark conversation. Duke responds well enough after a few questions that ease him back into the flow of things, but Cassandra takes a while longer. Though that only makes sense since she’s just gotten into things, and is only starting to get into that flow as well. It’s not hard to notice that she’s simply just observing for now, and most likely wants to keep it that way, but you didn’t make that offer for her to just watch.

You start with something to drink, offering coffee since that seemed to be a common choice around here, and even take a sip of your own beverage while you were at it, and ask if Duke wanted anything else. It’s always the little things that count, but of course Cassandra remains as she is, and doesn’t respond. It’s only after a good minute or so does she get something, though if it’s to ‘blend in’ easier or because she genuinely wanted something to drink, you couldn’t tell – but that didn’t matter. Eventually, she gives you small responses by nodding or shaking her head, among other small gestures that seem to give just enough information to count as some sort of reaction. Cassandra was responding and reacting more to things Duke was saying, but that didn’t bother you. She was beginning to ease up, and that’s what ultimately counts.

Then, you’re given a golden opportunity as her stomach gives a small rumble. It’s barely noticeable, and not even Duke hears it, but Cassandra does and you notice her reaction well enough to tell. Of course, you give her the same offer you gave to Duke earlier – and even if she is more hesitant and reluctant, you take a risk and push things as you get her something. Just as before, the wait is hardly long at all – even if Cassandra seemed to feel it more than you did – and when it comes, it takes her a bit to even poke at it, but she caves eventually.

From there, everything eases just as it did before. Whatever you picked, she ends up liking it, and the conversation flows much better now that Cassandra is less tense. Your smile from before remains, and the morning carries on splendidly.

However, as with all things, it eventually comes to an end as you get a notification on your mobile device, and a small huff escapes you. Things are coming along, but it’s time to call it – you’ve been here long enough. You signal for the check, and once it arrives, you simply say, “Well this has been nice, hasn’t it? I don’t know what I expected, but I’m pleasantly surprised by both of you. This has been… eye opening, as one would say,” you muse, another light laugh escaping you, “but I’ve kept you both for long enough. I’m sure you both have places to be.” You don’t even look as the waiter takes the check back after you slip on your Rose Bank card.

Duke seems to tense slightly, and stops you from standing as he shoots up from his seat, “Wait, do you have to go right now? If there’s anywhere you need to go, I could take you-” You wave him off, and shake your head.

“There’s no need, I know my way around well enough, but thank you-” Cassandra moves to stand as well, and before she can even fully get out, Duke scrambles to get out of the booth and stand in front of you.

“You just got here a bit ago, right? I’m sure I can still help-”

“Thomas, I assure you I’m fine. I’m just heading back to the station,” you handle the check and slip your card back into your wallet when the waiter comes back around. Duke struggles to speak, and Cassandra seems concerned. Hm.

Exhaling softly, you give the teen a pat on his shoulder, “If anything happens, remember, you can always contact the GCPD if need be, alright?” Duke didn’t seem too pleased with that response, but all it takes is one more long look before he averts his gaze and nods.

“Yeah, yeah… alright.” You grin, and give him another pat.

“Perfect! See you around, kid!” With that, you leave without a second thought, feeling more confident then before – and Cassandra could tell. Of course she could, but before she could think about why you were going to the station this early in the day, her eyes drift back to Duke, and she can’t help but pause. His body language and overall attitude is completely different now… but… why? What could have made him so upset?

The young vigilante glances up when she hears the small bell of the door, indicating your leave… and she doesn’t know why, but she can’t help but feel disappointed.

— — — — — —

Making your way to the station is easy enough, and as you check the time, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Just in time.

You turn around, and are greeted by the sight of blue eyes and dark hair – honestly, if his face shape was different, you’d think he was Bruce. It’s almost weird that they aren’t biologically related, but that’s the funny thing about genetics, you suppose.

Nevertheless, you offer a smile as always, “I got your call, but I didn’t expect to be meeting you in Gotham this soon, Grayson. You really are punctual. Though noon is an odd time to meet up, don’t you think?” Richard – or as everyone apparently calls him, Dick – just gives a smile of his own that borders on a smirk, and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Couldn’t think of a better time, and besides, it isn’t that bad. It’s just in time for lunch!” You hum at his response, finding it a bit curious before giving a nod.

“Well, when you put it like that it almost sounds smart,” You chuckle out, watching as his face contorts slightly. “Regardless, I got your call. You wanted to discuss the case?”

Dick doesn’t seem to appreciate your little jab, nor how you brush past it so fast – but just huffs before giving a nod. “Yeah, some guys said you’d know some things…? Or that someone here did?” You raise a brow before a look of confusion settles on your face.

“A few of us here do, but the one that would know the most would be detective Greenwood,” yet, you pause, as if thinking for a moment before adding, “I assume the situation in Bludhaven has gotten worse?”

The sigh that escapes him is telling enough, even more so with how he rubs the back of his neck, and the nod he gives is almost guilty. “Yeah… and even saying that feels like you’re sugar coating it.” Hm, must be like Metropolis then – that’s good to know. “I guess Ludwig told you?”

“Among a few other things, but just gave a general idea,” Dick visibly deflates at your words, and so, as if extending an olive branch of sorts, you gesture to a cafe nearby. “How about we get you some coffee and a quick bite to eat, hm? Can’t imagine getting here was an easy trip.”

Dick’s practically already following you to the small shop when you make your offer, and a low, exaggerated groan escapes him. “You don’t even know the half of it, it’s like Gotham’s become some highly sought out tourist destination overnight! It’s insanity, I tell you- makes no sense! The people who live here don’t like it enough as it is, why would anyone else want to be here?”

You shrug your shoulders, and guide both of you over to the cafe, “Not a clue, but it is weird when you put it like that. But maybe it’s nothing, who knows? We’ve got enough to deal with, anyway.”

“Tell me about it… not like there's anyone around here that wants to deal with this kind of weather. It feels way too warm for fall, if you ask me.” Dick mumbles, making his way over to the counter to order, and you only partially shrug, giving another nod in half agreement. You didn’t feel a difference, but it could just be because you’re used to it.

“I guess so,” you say, pulling out your wallet to pay – seeing as you offered to begin with. Obviously, Dick notices and doesn’t move to stop you, but can’t help but raise a brow.

“Aren’t you going to get anything?”

You glance at him for a moment before huffing softly, almost as if amused by what he said, and just hand the cashier your Rose Bank card to pay.

“I had a filling brunch.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Despite everything that’s been going on, this is probably one of their more organized efforts to tackle the night – which is really saying something, since there’s always been attempts, but it’s hard to be orderly amidst chaos. Something that Gotham practically breeds, even if this particular strain comes from out of town.

Tim and Duke are in the manor running tests on the organic material Stephanie and Jason had managed to get from the other night, with Barbara doing similar work in the clock tower. The others are out in the city, with Bruce running some things by Gordon, Selina being god knows where, and the others tracking some shipment while taking care of minor crimes and such along the way.

It’s almost… weird how coordinated this ‘cult’ seems to be, not to mention just how many people seem to be in on this thing. There didn’t seem to be an exact number at the moment, and if they really did split up, then there may even be more members that they weren’t aware of that have taken refuge outside of Gotham-

Point is, there were definitely a lot of people in this cult. Maybe even too many to coordinate and organize, at least for them to work so in sync with one another as they were now. It’d make more sense if they were only in Gotham, but until they got Clark’s report, no one could be sure of that – even if Dick responding so readily when Bruce had called him in was telling enough on its own. There was also the possibility of there being multiple organizers and leaders for this, which seems like the obvious choice, but even so – who could get a system in place that works this smoothly? It’s almost unnatural. Uncanny, even. Not to mention it doesn’t make sense if there’s no incentive for these people to be doing all of this-

Tim couldn’t figure it out, anyway. It felt like there was still so much they didn’t know yet, and like one thing was happening right after the other. Despite not being out in the city himself, he could use his birds as his eyes to see outside while he remained in the cave – so, in a way he was also tracking the cult. What Tim found weird himself is that you didn’t think the cult had a proper name, or that they weren’t called after the event all of these groups seem to be working towards. It made the most logical sense that they would be, or at least something similar to it – but you, someone who's been working on this case longer than anyone they knew at the moment, disagreed. Why? Regardless, aside from this supposed ‘Red Dawn’, what incentive did… well, anyone have to be a part of the cult to begin with? Did the event itself grant them something? What even was the Red Dawn? What did it have to do with all this soil and sand?

There were too many questions and not enough answers, but he supposes that’s why they’re even investigating to begin with. Though, if Tim had a say in this – it feels too organized to be something that only started three or so days ago. Have they really only been in Gotham for just a couple of days? If what his birds are seeing is real, then it’s more likely that they’ve been here for months-

[“Oh, would you look at that? They split again. Geez, really makes you wonder why they’re moving this stuff around like this. Seems ssseriously inefficient if you ask me.” Jason’s voice sparks in the commlink, tone sarcastic and rough.]

[“Agreed, there hardly seems to be a purpose to such tactics.” Damian huffs, going quiet for a moment only to add, “Unless they really are trying to distract us.”]

Tim perks up at this, and uses a nearby bird to perch on top of one of the telephone lines that go across the street. Watching as the next load of… whatever this cult was hauling and bringing around, drives off down the street. Some of it in a truck, and the other half of it in various cars. Not exactly subtle, but it would be hard to keep track of it all if one person was trying to keep tabs on things. Especially if said person was human.

[“Gonna have to agree with you guys, these people… they’re doing something, alright.” Stephanie chimes in, the suspicion clear in her voice.]

“What does that mean?” Tim can’t help but ask, trying to focus on the sample he’s analyzing, but can’t help but focus more on what his birds are seeing – especially when it’s more interesting the shuffling through samples of dirt.

[Stephanie sighs, “Seems like they’re trying to spread this stuff all around. Parks, gardens, bakeries, flower shops- all kinds of places, and from the looks of things? Whatever they’re doing here, it’s getting to other civilians as well. Guards and employees are helping them, and not just to open the back door either.”]

[“Someone open the front door?” Jason asks rhetorically.]

[Stephanic stiffs a chuckle, but Cassandra responds with a curt, “Yes. And storage.”]

[Jason was quiet for a moment before a small, “... Right, ‘course they did.”]

With his birds, Tim is able to follow as many trails as he can – and upon noticing a particularly weird detail, his brows furrow. “They… looped back around.”

[“Yep, I see them. Right back at the gardens… weird.” Stephanie confirms, sounding equally confused.]

[“They’re obviously trying to play us, but why? So they can plant more of this… red shit everywhere?” Jason can’t help but question.]

Tim shakes his head, which the closest bird to Jason and Damian emulates, “No, that doesn’t make sense. They’ve got loads of this stuff all over Gotham- I don’t see why they’d need more, unless…” He grows quiet, thinking for a moment before he looks down at the sample he’s supposed to be examining. Were they thinking of this the wrong way?

[“Unless… what?” Stephanie asks.]

He tries to think of a way to explain it, fumbling for a moment before just saying, “Well, do we even know what this stuff does?”

[“That’s what we have you looking at it for, yeah? Shouldn’t you or Barbara, or hell- even Duke know?” Jason chips in again.]

[Damian sucks his teeth, “Of course you can’t even do the one job we actually give you, Drake.”]

Tim can practically feel the disdain in Damian’s voice as he says his last name, which makes his brow twitch – but he shakes it off. He tries to, at least.

“I’m trying! I just… don’t know what I’m looking at, or why, okay? This whole situation is… weird.”

[“Look, Tim, people… people died over this stuff. There’s gotta be something weird about it. Maybe weird chemicals or…?” Stephanie tries to suggest.]

The watcher huffs at the reminder, but ultimately relents as he gives it another look while still having his birds keep tabs on things. All he sees is the same thing, and as he increases the magnification on the microscope, he only finds himself growing more… confused. More weirded out than anything, and a little curious, sure, but confused all the same.

Leaning back, he takes a breath, “I don’t understand, it looks alien… but how can that even be possible?”

[“We work with aliens, is it really that strange, Drake?”]

“I know that- but this is like- different! The organisms in the dirt are being taken over by something- and it’s like it’s both trying to take over and adapt to it?”

[“Like… a parasite trying to get used to its host?”]

“Kind of? It’s hard to explain… and this substance in the dirt- no wonder some of it looks like sand…”

[“So, instead of ‘getting used to’ the host, it’s killing it.” Jason suggests.]

“Yeah, like it can’t adapt properly or… is valuing infection over adaptation. It seems to feed on organic material and create more- but there’s something weird about it too.”

[“... And that is?”]

Tim hesitates for a moment, unsure himself, before eventually just putting the idea out there. “Well, at this pace… if their plan is for it to infect all the organic material in Gotham for whatever reason, then this is a seriously inefficient way to do it. Their plan here isn’t to have this stuff in all the dirt - at least, not to change it all. It seems more like a byproduct of whatever they’re trying to do with it.”

[“Well, what’s in the dirt, Tim?” Stephanie asks.]

“That’s the thing- I have no idea. It’s like its own organism, but I haven’t seen anything like this. It’s completely alien, and I doubt it’s the friendly kind.”

[“Well- I have to agree with you there. If it was… well, who knows how this would go. But nothing about all of this particularly screams ‘friendly’.”]

[“Did the people shooting themselves give that away?” Jason sarcastically quips.]

[“The purposefully suspicious activity certainly doesn’t help.” Damian adds, sounding equally pleased.]

Tim zones out of the conversation, glancing back at the samples Jason and Stephanie were able to bring in that he hasn’t fully looked at yet. The samples themselves don’t seem to ‘decay’ necessarily, and it seems to take them a while to eat away at the dirt or sand they’ve been ‘mixed’ with – from the looks of things, anyway.

No, if anything it gives the impression of a substance trying to reach homeostasis. Since, it’s either that or it’s trying to revert back to it’s original state for… whatever reason. Whatever other material it produces in that process is simply a byproduct of its efforts. The real question is why. Why is it trying to change? Why is it working to do… whatever it’s trying to do?

Mindlessly, Tim’s blank eyes drift over to where Duke was sitting, only to pause.

The teenager was hunched over, entirely focused on the task at hand – and whereas that isn’t inherently a bad thing, Duke hardly seems to be breathing, like the smallest gust of air or wind will tamper with the sample so much. Taking too much precaution when it comes to treating it. Not like it’s dangerous, but like it’s precious, like handling something more fragile than glass.

The sight alone makes Tim feel unnerved, and as his senses heighten – its only then does he pick up on the faintest smell. What… what is that-?

[“Oh shit- we’ve got to bounce. Now-!”]

[“Agreed. How did you even manage to-?”]

[“Let’s save the questions for when we’re out of the burning warehouse.”]

Tim blinks, eyes blowing wide as he looks away from Duke and focuses back on what’s going on. Using one of his birds, he can see that a warehouse is, in fact, on fire – and it is growing fast. “Steph-”

[“Already made the call, fire department is on the way but- how in the world did you guys even manage to set the whole place on fire?”]

[“Don’t lump me in with this brainless brute-” Damian’s complaint is cut off.]

[“I didn’t even expect the stuff to catch that fast! Just- ugh,” Jason groans, the subtle sound of the warehouse coming apart is just barely audible through the comlink. “Do everyone a favor, and keep those samples away from fire. That shit lights faster than propane.”]

“Even if it spreads quickly, how did the fire get strong that fast?!”

[“Hell if I know! You said this crap is alien, right? How is anyone supposed to figure it’d have so much kick!?”]

“You knew it could set on fire?!”

[“Last I checked, dirt isn’t flammable- of COURSE I DIDN’T KNOW!”]

[“Guys! Just- focus on getting out of there! We can figure out all of this once we regroup. Meet me and Cass at the station. We need to tell Bruce about this.”]

Tim glances at Duke once again, who’s hand twitches slightly, and the watcher grows quiet before looking back at his own sample.

… Could this night get any weirder?

— — — — – – – – – – — – – –

Eventually, towards the heart of the night, Bruce is able to reach the batcave once more, and everyone recounts what they found or learned – minus certain individuals.

The discussion is as chaotic as one would imagine, but the main points get across eventually, albeit between suspicions a few of them had, and more speculation on what could be going on. The biggest question is why this group had chosen Gotham of all places, if they really have been here recently or have been in the city for longer, who Tim and Cass were able to identify as members of the cult, and so on.

Whoever was organizing this was clearly doing something to the people following them. How perfect everything seemed to flow without their presence was uncanny and unnatural, not to mention how readily members have killed themselves without a hint of hesitation. Honestly, it was terrifying – and the fact there was still so much left unknown wasn’t helping. Not knowing who was behind this, or at least in charge of the group in Gotham was setting them back – and the risk of confrontation was too high. There was no telling if they’d dispose of themself just as quickly as the other members of the cult, but that was assuming there even were other leaders in place.

They certainly had their influencers and people who brought in more members into their cult, but for some reasons… most of the vigilantes had a feeling that there wasn’t. That there was just one person in control – the lack of evidence on that end didn’t help, but they sort of just knew. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to fully dismiss anything, even if some of them were pretty set on a couple of things. Duke, Jason, Stephanie, and Cassandra in particular. Bruce was… well, himself, but he seemed to have his mind set as well even if he left the door open for possibilities.

If this was really alien, who knows what they’re dealing with – and if what Clark said earlier was true, then it’s definitely mind altering, at the very least. Though, that did pose another question entirely about you and the cops that came in from Metropolis.

Were any of you under the influence of this… alien substance?

They weren’t given much time to dwell on that as something pops up on the batcomputer – a notification of sorts. “Ah, must be Clark.” Bruce mumbles, already working on displaying and finding out all the information Clark had gathered.

A map of the United States first flashes onto the many screens, before red dots begin to appear on the map. Like little fairy lights, they flicker on, and don’t stop until it looks like the country has got the bad case of chickenpox. Then, it zooms out, showing the whole world map, and more dots appear. They’re sparse in some areas compared to others, but the message is made clear enough.

Yet, before anyone could fully digest even the point Clark was trying to make, the funniest thing happens.

The dots begin to move. They weren’t just markers, they were trackers.

Some move faster than others, all of them blinking for a moment before shifting, showing their movement. There aren’t any labels, but the direction seems to be clear enough. Especially as the map zooms back into the United States, and shows the movement there a little more clearly.

On the East Coast, all of the dots closest to there seem to be moving towards two cities in particular – but before it can be shown where they are clearly moving towards, the power cuts. The batcave is swallowed by darkness, and the vigilante family is left in complete darkness for a few moments. The cave being the most dark any of them have seen it, and the silence near deafening.

It doesn’t take long for the lights to flicker back on, but they have the oddest shade of pink, and as everything powers back on – the ventilation is still paused, and something else has taken place of the map on the batcomputer – it’s taken over every screen even remotely connected to the advanced computer, actually.

A red solar eclipse with a timer right on the bottom, counting down. No explanation, nothing aside from the eclipse and countdown.

There’s no way someone in the cult could’ve got into the system, and especially not tonight when they were all on high alert and keeping an eye on them! It wasn’t possible, the security in the cave and manor would’ve been enough to stop anyone from getting in, or at least notified any of them if someone had gotten in. Hell, Damian’s sense and trigger would have alerted him if anyone had so much as stepped onto the property that wasn’t supposed to be there. There are too many precautions put into place for this to happen – and for the sight to stay on screen as well.

That didn’t leave many possibilities, and it was less about the why and more about how this could even happen. Which, amongst the options to shift through… with the threat they were dealing with here, only one seemed to stick out and seemed the most plausible.

There was a traitor among them.

#yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere duke thomas #yandere cassandra cain #yandere dick grayson #the red dawn

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that-hazbin · 12 hours ago

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With your reblog of the What-If scenario where Alastor’s mom is a kinda bad mom, I am now picturing a combination of that What-If with your Blackout AU. I mean, not having any parental affection growing up in combination with a father who is so physically abusive he beat his wife to death, and then living through the early 1900’s in New Orleans as a mixed race man—is it any wonder his brain decided to “nope” out of super stressful situations?

And in the scenario where Alastor’s mom and Alastor reunite in Hell, what if she finds out about the blackouts and the fact that Alastor did not know what landed him in Hell?? I’m just picturing it as being a bad time for everyone involved, like that has some serious angst potential.

God that would genuinely be so, so messed up.

Alastor's lack of love during his formative years would honestly not even be the worst of his trauma, but damn did it have permanent consequences. Honestly it would be a good explanation for why his relationship with Mimzy is the way it is— he's so used to loving without being loved in return, and therefore has 0 problems with being used by the people he loves. He's just a bag of Horrific Brain Issues.

I think Alastor's mom would still go to heaven. She may not have loved Alastor, and as a result was a pretty bad mom, but she wasn't a bad person. She still did her best. Honestly speaking, Alastor mostly doesn't blame her for not loving him specifically because he knew her own circumstances were absolutely abysmal. His dad was a wife-beating scumbag and Alastor was a product of rape. As far as Alastor is concerned, his mother was a fucking saint just for not hating his existence on principle. She stuck around and tried her best.

(Of course, he knows she's thought horrible things in moments of weakness. She once stood over his bed with a pillow in her hands when he was seven. It was a bad night, one of her eyes were swollen shut, tears running down her face... Alastor pretended to sleep, silently watching her in the mirror. She stood there for an hour, shaking like a leaf, before leaving. He kept this memory to himself.)

I think if she ever takes a visit to hell and finds out about the blackouts, she might actually have a really bad initial reaction. Alastor always did his best to never act anything like his father, despite sharing a similar face with him. His mom would not take kindly to knowing that he gets violent in any capacity.

When she finds out that it's entirely involuntary, and that Alastor didn't even know it was happening when he was alive, she's definitely going to have a bad mental breakdown. Her first thought would be that it's her fault. She already felt guilty for the way she treated him in life. She couldn't love him the way he deserved, never looked him in the eyes, had a hard time even going through the motions of a "proper mother." Was the lack of love the reason why his mind is so broken?

Finding out the first time he ever had a blackout was the day she was murdered would break her. Alastor loved her so much that her death destroyed his mind.

(The fault isn't solely hers, but she wouldn't be in sound enough mind to recognize this. It's the fault of Alastor's father, for being an abusive asshole, for everyone who outcasted Alastor based on his race, for being a "mixed bastard." It's the continued fault of war, financial instability, hunger, segregation, police brutality, etc. She may have been part of the initial spark, but she wasn't the sole cause.)

As for the rest of the hotel, I think some of them might actually get super annoyed with her guilt. Because to them, it might look like she's making Alastor's suffering all about her. Which would definitely lead to some tension, between her and the rest of the hazbin crew, as well as some tension between the crew and Alastor. Because he would not appreciate their line of thinking.

Despite the tension, it would take a lot for them to move on from the opinion they built on Alastor's mom. Namely that she definitely does not deserve the absolute unconditional love that Alastor showers her with.

#blackout au #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor's mother #there's the implication here that she contemplated smothering Alastor with a pillow in a moment of weakness #like straight up thought abt killing him #Alastor is 100% aware of it.#hazbin mimzy #tw rape mention #tw sa mention

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beef-brisket · 2 days ago

Note

Lucifer nods: I do- but only to talk, no... messing around with my mind-.

Adam: What?! Babe, you can't be serious! After what she did-?!

Just as Adam turns towards Hela getting ready to charge at her, Lucifer grabs his arm: Adam. Trust me.

Hela laughed and dropped herself down onto Lucifer's throne: Well done, Lucifer. You've trained your dog well~.

Adam: You fucking-!

Lucifer tightened his grip on Adam, he growled as he felt himself get dragged a few steps: Adam! Enough!

Hela: Hmm, not trained well enough, it seems~.

Lucifer: Hela! Stop. You're here to speak with me.

Hela: Well, I WAS here to talk to both of you, but that's off to a good start! So, if your mutt has calmed down, I have a few questions.

Lucifer: He's calm. Right, Adam?

After a few moments of silence, Lucifer looked up at Adam, who was glaring at Hela.

Hela: Don't make me put you down.

Adam: ...Fine. Ask your fucking questions.

Hela: Oh, I will! I don't need your permission. Anyway, Lucifer~. My favourite person~. I have many people looking for me- for different reasons. Why are you different from the rest?

Lucifer: ...You've shown yourself to me, surely you have the answer to that.

Hela: Hm. Fair enough. I find you interesting to answer your question.

Lucifer: I didn't ask one-.

Hela tapped the side of her head with her long nail, smiling at Lucifer: Oh, yes, you did~. Not only were you a human with an archangel soul, but now you're the king of Hell- not that that means anything to me, but even I know when someone's impressive~. Now, speaking of impressive, what to you intend to do with me~?

Lucifer: We- I want to end the war and keep Heaven out. Permanently.

Hela: Oh, how interesting~.

Lucifer: They've been hanging around. There's a rumour going around that they want to destroy Hell altogether. And I'm sure you don't want that to happen.

Hela: Hm... you're not wrong. That wouldn't be in my best interest. Too bad for you, that I have other plans.

Hela jumps up from the throne and dusts herself off.

Adam: The fuck does that mean?

Hela sighed: Ooh, I really wish you wouldn't talk to me, dog. But, if it'll stop you from talking, I'll answer your question~. Being back in Hell has opened my eyes to just how... revolting, the place is. So, I'm going to aim for higher amd better things~.

Lucifer: ...Heaven?

Hela: Smart boy! Heaven will be my new playground. It's about time those rats learned their place-.

Lucifer: Hela- you can't! You start a war between Heaven and Hell- and we have enough war! Just- please, just help us!

Hela: Oh, but I am helping you, pet! Once Heaven is mine, you'll be able to travel between the two! Aren't you lucky~.

As Hela started to walk off, Lucifer ran over to her: Please- Hela! Just-.

Hela smiled downa t Lucifer amd pinched cheek: Don't worry, sweetie~. Once I'm ruling all of the realms, I'll take you away from this glorified ape you call a husband, and give you a throne that's worthy of you~!

In shock, Lucifer let Hela walk off. What was he even meant to do? He stood no chance against her.

Adam: You'll get yourself killed.

Hela: No, mutt. You'll get yourself killed.

Suddenly, Hela was in Adam's face, and her claws started to dig into his ribs.

Hela: Remember, you have something of mine. Don't make me take it back. You won't like it~.

Adam: L-Lucifer helped me-.

Hela: I don't know why, I would have let you rot if I was him. But no, he had to do something, didn't he? Not that it matters. You had my blood in you for over a week, I'm everywhere now~.

Moving away, Hela smiled at Lucifer: If you want to remain king- and alive, I highly recommend staying out of my way.

In a blink of an eye, the life came back to the throne room, and the air became lighter. She was gone. Leaving Adam and Lucifer in silence.

Adam: ...Fuck sakes...

Lucifer: You can say that again.

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

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redcamellia13 · 2 days ago

Text

Mitsukou Analysis, Picture Perfect Part 1

Hello! I know, it’s been a while since I did one of these. Honestly though, I was kind of putting this analysis off, Picture Perfect is just such a beautiful arc, and I’m scared I won’t do Aidairo’s characters justice. Plus, it’s hella long.

I’m sure you’ve noticed the “Part 1” in the title. This is because I wrote this on a bus, and had very, very little time to make this analysis. I promise, I’m making Part 2 as fast as I can.

Now that that’s been settled, let’s do this!

Kou, do you realize how gay that sounds? Like, that’s not what straight guys say to their best friends. Jokes aside, we can see hints of Kou’s… jealousy? I don’t know what to call it. We can see Kou is not happy with idea Tsukasa can make Mitsuba’s wish come true.

Why? Because, say it with me people, Kou needs to be needed. Seriously, this aspect of his character is the reason of half of the things he does and says to Mitsuba.

So. We’re to the point Nene and Kou know this world is fake, and are attempting to get information out of Mitsuba so they have a better sense of their surroundings.

Why does Mitsuba listen to Nene and not Kou?

Actually, this puzzles me too. Seriously, anybody have ideas? Maybe it’s because Mitsuba saw everything that happened in the school, so he saw Nene’s shortened lifespan?

On that note, time to move onto one of the most critical scenes in MitsuKou’s arc.

Mitsuba says it himself. He saw everything. Does that mean he saw Kou crying over his “death”? I imagine it would have had a huge impact on his psychology. I’ll come back to this in Part 2.

In these panels, Mitsuba is referring to how he wants people to react when he calls out to them. He wants friends. It must be horrible, being a ghost, bound to the school, never able to communicate or make an impact.

Maybe Kou is special to him, and maybe it’s because of this. So, at this point in time, Mitsukou is not looking good. Like in a, “is this a healthy relationship?” aspect. Their entire relationship is built upon a, truthfully, unhealthy codependency.

Mitsuba needs to be seen, and Kou needs somebody to rely on him.

(Read right to left, I messed up the format and I’m too lazy to change it)

This interaction poses an interesting question. If Kou had to pick between Mitsuba (No. 3) or Original Mitsuba, which would he choose? I don’t think even Kou himself knows, look at his expression.

However, the look on his face could be described as regretful, so perhaps, the answer to this question would be Original Mitsuba. I think Mitsuba notices Kou’s appearance, and came to the same conclusion.

See, even Kou is doubting himself. My heart goes out to Mitsuba. Imagine meeting the only person who you regularly talk to, the closest thing to a friend you have. (I don’t think the Broadcasting Club counts.)

And you realize the only reason he likes you is because you have the same face and personality of a guy he liked. (No, not like liked.)

He is literally merely seeing the ghost of a friend in you.

Welp, I’m out of time, so see you in Part 2! (Oh my god, Part 2 is gonna be so. Much. Work.)

😭😭😭😭

#mitsukou canon #tbhk manga #jshk #mitsukou #toilet bound hanako kun #kou minamoto #mitsuba souske #so tired #my fingers hurt from typing so much #seriously

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zoerislovely · 3 days ago

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You're sick and Lucifer finds out

(this is my first fanfic, so if it's not good you know why. I hope you guys enjoy!)

You aren't the type of person to get sick, and when you do. Let's just say it's strong. And when that does happen, haha, you're not coming out of your room. 2 main reasons; 1. You don't want anyone else getting sick and 2. You don't want anyone worrying, especially Charlie since she would be worried sick. So you decide to stay in your bed sleeping. That is until you hear a sudden knock at the door.

Lucifer has been staying ever since the reconstruction of the hotel. And during that time he has gotten rather close to the other residents and workers (except a certain dear). But he's gotten closer to one person in particular. You. You guys have found so much in common. And even though, of course you never always agreed on everything, you guys were really united. Maybe has do to with the fact that you both know how it feels to be left alone.

The king has never felt himself happier, and everyone could notice. But when you shouted at him to leave you alone after he knocked, he felt worried rather than mad or sad.

“Is everything ok y/n?”

“Yea, so please leave!”

Being the stubborn person Lucifer is, he doesn't listen and comes into your room either way. You're all wrapped up in your covers, looking like an absolute mess.

“Hey you feeling okay?”

“Lucifer I told you not to come in”

“But you look sick..”

There's a bit of worry in his eyes as he looks at you. As much as you love this man, you don't want him worrying.

During the time you have been hanging out with him. You started to develop feelings for the short king, of course, he didn't know that.

“Yes I'm sick, that's why I don't want you in here. I don't want you to get sick as well”

He chuckles amused.

“Darling, I'm the literal king of hell, it would take a lot to get me sick”

“Well, Yea, but you could still get sick!”

He sits next to your resting body on the bed. Moving a hand to your hair and gently stroking it. This duck loving man was going to be the end of you. You try pushing his hand away.

“Please don't get close to me..you could get sick..”

“Well if I do, so be it! I'm going to take care of you!”

“Huh!?”

And with that he cuddles up in bed with you. You stare at him, bewildered. What was he doing? Before you can speak again he covers your lips with a finger.

“Ah ah ah, you need to rest. And don't you dare become stubborn, because I will make you”

You look up at him, smiling a bit. You've never been this close to him. The heat of both your bodies mixing into a heated dance. Oh how you could get used to this. You start to drift off.

Lucifer holds you close in his arms as you rest. When he had knocked at your door, he didn't expect it would end like this. But he's not complaining. He loves having you near. And a feeling he thought died long ago, seemed to return. Love. Did he really feel this for you? Or was he just confused? He wants to have you close, protect you, make you feel like you matter. Did he really love you?

Well whatever it was, he wasn't going to worry about it now. You were comfortably resting in his arms, and how he was absolutely loving it. Whatever this feeling was, it would resolve by itself, as time passes.

A yawn leaves his lips. He's also pretty tired. His eyes start closing, and sooner or later he is sleeping peacefully as well. Both of you cuddled up on the bed, sound asleep. Will this have an effect on both yours friendship? We'll see.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #ask #ask blog #hazbin lucifer #fanfic writing #fanfiction #lucifer x you #lucifer ask #lucifer hazbin hotel #luci #lucifer x y/n #first fanfic #lucifer fanfiction

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girlwhorizzed · 14 hours ago

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sometimes you thought jj liked to mess with you on purpose. with all the girls he'd have on his arm for the night being just to fuck with you, and all the ones he'd bring to the chateau, only whenever he knew you would be there.

it’s not that you guys were exclusive or anything— but god, he could at least be a decent guy and not rub it in your face, especially when deep down you know you’re the only girl he actually wants. you know how he is.

there was no denying it at this point — he was definitely getting a kick out of making you upset. he was no stranger to being an ass just for the sake of it and he was pretty used to having girls fawn and pine after his every move like he was a prize worth having. so for that reason, he’s extra amused when it comes to your attempts to rile him up, always amused with the thought of you seething on the inside, knowing he could make you act out so easily.

it was an unspoken game he liked to play with you, one where he made it his personal mission to rile you up as much as possible just to see how you’d react. whether it was being obnoxiously clingy with other girls in front of you, or being overly affectionate all of a sudden, you’re always so damn fun to mess with.

but today, you were in a funk — more agitated than normal, which was saying a lot because you could often be rather huffy. so jj had known, and yet he still decides to go and poke at your patience. your fuse was short as it was, so when you find him in the chateau with yet another girl from the cut he was entertaining, you were already angry and on the verge of tears. jj is sat on the couch, the pretty girl on his lap as he casually smokes a blunt, his mouth forming a grin when he sees you enter the room.

“oh hey. you’re just the girl i wanted to see.” he grins, not even having the decency to look sheepish. the girl on his lap gives you a quick glance over, taking in your dishevelled appearance with a judgemental eye before returning her attention to him. you cross your arms, shooting him a look as the girl on his lap scoots in closer, draping her arms around his neck lazily. and it was that stupid, smug little look on his face, along with the sound of her sweet giggles, that has you absolutely seething. he’s practically sitting there challenging you to snap, his shoulders relaxed back and arm resting over the back of the sofa as he watches you with an amused, expectant gaze.

usually you'd give into his games, let it get to you, let it cause you to end up with a runny nose and sad eyes in your bed. not today you've decided, a quick decision you really haven't acknowledged yet— just knew you were going to do. you play it carefully, like you remember doing in highschool, breath in and out— flash a sweet smile and walk off.

he’s momentarily shocked, not having expected you to react any other than your usual pouty self when he was blatantly messing with you. he thought for sure he was about to receive a good little whine, so when you instead just give him a little smile before heading to your spare room to get ready, he assumes. he had been waiting for you to start arguing, already prepared to rile you up even. more — but that’s not what you end up doing. his eyes narrow in confusion as he watches you go into your room and disappear behind the closed door. when he hears the lock click, he has to resist the urge to get up and bang on it immediately — deciding to wait just a little bit first. he huffs, trying to play it off cool with the pretty brunette in his lap who he’d forgotten about, giving her a gentle pat on the leg.

you focus all of your attention into the makeup you’re doing, taking your time and putting all of your focus into it. you have no idea where you’d go, but you didn’t care, you just needed to get away from him and his antics for a while. you take your time, really putting your heart and soul into getting yourself ready. by the time you’re done you look pretty so, so very pretty, and there’s no doubt about it, you’ll definitely turn heads tonight.

it’d been twenty minutes of silence in the living room when jj starts to get a little antsy; you were taking forever and a day. he was no stranger at all to you getting ready for a night out, always taking your time to perfect your makeup. only this time, he didn’t like it. he didn’t like not knowing what you were doing, or where you would be going, or what you would be wearing and who you’d end up around. the idea of you showing up somewhere, looking all prettied up and sexy for other guys to see you, really didn’t sit with him. he’s still sat with the girl, chatting a little mindlessly and occasionally casting a glance towards your door, a little confused why you hadn’t come back yet. he was expecting you to come out and try to talk him into not hanging out with the girl, not to just go MIA and get ready. he was getting a little bored and restless, deciding it was about time that he checked on you. “be back a second.” he murmurs to the girl, standing up and going to your door, frowning before knocking.

when you open the door, it finally clicks for him that your not moody, expected some red around the eyes and a slight pout to your pretty lips, but instead you’re in front of him, looking even more stunning than normal. he raises his eyebrows in surprise, slightly shocked at the level of effort you’ve gone through just to get changed. he’s stood in front of the now open door, watching as you look through dresses on the bed, all pretty things you’d only ever wear when he’d taken you for a nice night out. he takes your whole appearance in, all dolled up and obviously not wearing skimpy party clothes in front of him tonight. “where you going?” he asks, his voice a mixture of perplexed and irritated at the same time.

"somewhere." you say, cautiously aware to keep it vague— he'd go out of his way to ruin it for you— yet hearing the irritation visibly in his tone of voice caused the decision of a baby pink dress that complimented your body so majestically, you could be considered a goddess.

he’s leaning against the door frame, still in those grey baggy sweatpants and a white shirt that fit snuggly around his arms. he rolls his eyes at your blunt response, arms crossing over his chest. “somewhere? be more specific, baby.” he prompts again, watching you change into the pretty outfit with a slight frown, not even sure why he cares so much. after all— he's done this to you so many times before.

hearing him call you baby in that damn near desperate yet irritated tone causes your cheeks to flush, as they always do when he pulls that card, but you just can’t fold for him anymore. not this time. you try your hardest to seem nonchalant and unbothered, but jj can see right through your little facade, watching as you slip into the dress and turn back to face him. he does take a moment to look you over — admiring the way the dress clung to your every curve and the pretty colour that made you look like a little doll. he’d have to be a damn fool not to acknowledge how pretty you were looking, and he could only hope that no one else would be able to see you tonight and think the same. “answer me.” he mutters, still leaned up against the door.

you could practically see his mind ticking over as he thinks of the types of places you could be going to, he’d expected you to be going out to some house party or a club — somewhere he could go to and find you again so he could keep an eye on you. but you weren't attending any of the things that came listed in his head. you were going to the country club even though you were from the cut, you had the beauty of a kook and surely none of the men would make a fuss out of it, maybe the women.

"m'going to the country club. my cousin works there and i could get a free drink or two."

but his jaw tightens when you mention the country club— he doesn’t like the thought of those pretty boys in their polos seeing you dressed like a doll, who would no doubt be eager to have such a pretty thing on their arm. jj was certain with the dress you had on you'd fit right in— but he couldn't let you know that. “the country club is for kooks, not pogue chicks from the cut.” he muttered.

"good thing i look like a kook then." you said, adding the finishing touches to your look— you knew you were being petty and didn't have any shame for it. if jj could play this game so could you, and who knows maybe you'd become eye-candy for the men at the country club— partly to get back at jj and partly for the free shit you could earn out of it. no one would ever suspect that this cute little thing would ever scam anybody.

his eyebrows raised at your response, jaw clenching even more. it was probably the one answer he hated most, of course you were going somewhere that had kooks and alcohol — just what you needed to get a good little buzz on and forget him, leaving yourself open to be pounced on by some random guy. you push past him, giving him a subtle wave and an air kiss as you leave out the door, not putting anymore effort into the conversation because it was his fault that you were going out anyways.

he has half mind to stop you in your tracks, push you back into your room and remind you who you belong to. he doesn’t though, because he knows you’d never forgive him for it, and decides to swallow all his possessiveness watching you leave through the front door with a huff of defeat. having pissed you off enough for you to go and get attention from others at a place that will no doubt be crawling with kooks who have a fetish for pogue girls, it was eating at him.

it was only a few hours later you returned back to the chateau, expecting it to be empty and vacant because when you left it was— kiara was grounded at home, and john b was God knows where, and pope probably at home studying. the lights were all out, signalling that no one was home and the house was vacant — giving you the perfect time to get changed and wash the makeup off your face before crawling into the spare bedroom. you were exhausted, having been chatted up by some guys who looked rich enough to piss on their father’s rolexes, and despite it giving jj a taste of his own medicine, you just wish your night hadnt ended up having to talk to so many pompous men.

you were feeling good, high off the ego boost you’d received from the men at the country club that night who’d spent their evening complimenting you like crazy and asking for dances. you’d come back, a little buzzed from the champagne and cocktails, and expecting the chateau to be just as it was when you left — empty and quiet. how wrong you were, and it was evident when you were when you open the door and he’s lounging on the sofa, still in the same sweatpants and white shirt from earlier, clearly having just been sat there the whole time you were gone. his head turns and he locks eyes with you, and despite it being dark inside, you’re sure he’s watching you like a hawk, noting your appearance.

"hi jj." you say shyly, breaking the silence and embarrassment hitting when face-to-face. you were together but the constant back to back with other people made you feel ashamed. at least whenever you got back at him, and this was one of those times out of two.

he’s watching you, silent and somewhat tense as he runs his eyes over your figure for what feels like the hundredth time, jaw clenching again when he sees the way the dress hugs your body. he doesn’t know what’s pissed him off more — the fact you’d put yourself in that dress and the country club, or the fact you seem to be embarrassed to be back at what is your own house too. “have a nice time?” he asks, voice slightly gruff as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

you’re just about to pass him on the way to your room— not in any mood for an argument that could occur tomorrow morning when you were in a better headspace— but when his hand suddenly grabs your arm and has you pushed up against the nearest wall, your body almost completely squashed against his as he practically pins you down, his chest rising and falling with anger. “stop fuckin' cheating on me.” he asks in a low voice, eyes piercing down on your own.

he doesn’t really mean it, of course he doesn’t, he knows you would never give yourself up— but the jealousy was bubbling and bubbling, and it makes him want you all to himself and away from the other guys in that damn country club. he doesn’t trust any of them, and he sure as hell doesn’t trust you going there and not getting chatted to. he’d been sitting here for hours thinking of every damn scenario of you getting drunk and chatting it up with a rich boy. he’s got you there as his hand moves to capture your jaw in a firm grip, his thumb rubbing roughly across your cheek — his eyes darkened, staring into yours as he has you completely pressed against the wall with no where to run. you’d been wanting his attention all day, even more so when he’d started messing with you with some girl, and here he was, all the attention in the world on you with his body so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. “you gonna answer me or not, princess?"

"i didn't cheat on you. you cheat on me!" you say, the ego boost from the alcohol begining to take place as you stand up to him— it wasn't fair he got to pull the cheating card on you when the only times you'd ever act out like this was when he'd pushed you to your own limits. but of course it was only reasonable when he could have other people over him.

"the hell i do.” he scoffs, his temper rising at your response. he’s a little shocked at the courage you had to talk back to him, but at the same time he’s kinda into it. he can see the slight flush to your cheeks, so he assumes you’re probably at least a little tipsy right now, which has the ego boost he thought you were getting from the country club making even more sense to him. “what did you go to the country club for then, huh?”

you scoffed at that, eyes practically rolling back. he had the nerve to come for you when he'd done all this just for a reaction, and get upset when he got one. "what did you have that girl in your lap for then, huh?" you bark, he could be such a hypocrite.

he rolls his eyes, his irritation bubbling up even more as you use his own words against him — you were right, he couldn’t deny it, but he’d be damned if he’d admit that to you. he presses you back against the wall, his body completely against yours, leaving no gap between the two of you. “you’re not getting away with that, princess.” he mutters, his breath hitting your face.

the pet name seems to soften you, it always did have a way with making you feel special, making you fold completely. it's evident on your face, when your cheeks blush. his names for you always melted your defences, growing soft and all warm again with that. any other girl would brush it off and continue arguing and pushing the matter about the girl— you’re slowly giving up — giving up that tough, argumentative attitude you’d suddenly sprouted up with.

he had you right where he wanted you now, watching as once again, his use of that nickname makes you fold. the irritation in his expression melts away a little as he’d never been able to resist his own sweet little pet when she was soft, pink cheeks and looking all pretty in her pretty pink dress. “there you go, princess…” he murmurs, tilting your chin up with his thumb and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.

he’s staring down at you, his body still practically pinning you against the wall, your curves flush against his. he had you completely at his mercy right now, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take advantage of that or try and act like a good boy and be soft with you. “how much did you drink?” he asks, voice a little gruff as he looks down at your lips — they were more red and shiny now then he remembered.

"just two. didn't wanna do to much." you say softly, even mad at him you respected him— he is your boyfriend after all and getting black out drunk with a bunch of other men would disrespect him. but for now, you always took pride in enjoying when moments like this occured. when both of you got soft with each other and all cuddly, staring up at him with your doe eyes.

he studies your face, not entirely sure if he believes you only had two — you looked a little more floaty and giggly than he remembered. but he couldn’t deny that he loved you like this, pretty and sweet and soft in front of him. he knew his resolve would probably crumble at some point anyway, especially if you kept looking at him with those big eyes. “you sure about that, baby?”

"uh-huh." you say, shaking your head obediently with a little bite to your lip. readjusting his hand from your jaw to your curves that were perfectly grabable in this little cute dress.

he’d almost forgotten you’d gone out and put the pretty dress on to piss him off — in fact, he kinda had until he noticed it again. he still didn’t like you wearing something that was gonna get attention from men at the country club, and he had half a mind to tell you to change immediately. he lets out a heavy sigh, running eyes hand over his face. “you had guys lookin’ at you?”

you rolled your eyes jokingly as you flashed him with a cheeky grin. "didn't pay no attention to them though. just took pictures for instagram." you giggled, knowing you of course you took pictures, but jj was an over thinker and would always assume the worst, even being soft as he is now, he's still bombing you with questions.

“instagram huh?” he asks, a hint of annoyance on his face — he was definitely gonna check that later. he doesn’t think you’d be stupid enough to use that as a coverup to show some random guy your cute pink dress, but he’s certain he’s not going to like the comments you’ve recieved about your appearance. “any comments on those pictures?” he mutters, already assuming he knows the answer.

"just kiara and sarah." you giggled, you start to move his hands, letting his eyes close momentarily as your adjusting his palms from cupping your breast to your ass.

he hates how the answer somewhat calms him down, although he’s not at all pleased about the fact some guys have more than likely seen the photos. he’s not liking it one bit, but it’s even more irritating for him how soft and sweet you’re being, and how god damn pretty you are in that dress. he watches as you move his hand, a slight scoff leaving him. “keep still, baby.”

he’s taking his time looking over your appearance, noting that you were definitely a little more giggly than usual and your eyes were slightly dilated — and he doesn’t think you’re putting that on, which means you’d probably actually had more of a buzz than you’d led him to believe. his hands slide from your jaw down your body, feeling the silk of the dress on his fingers as he moves them down your hips.

it's quiet for the most part, your head against his chest and a few meaningful kisses and muttering sweet but nothings— before he can’t take it anymore, having you in the hallway and against the wall isn’t enough for the boy, as he grabs your arm and practically drags you towards the bedroom as you both let out giggled.

#jj maybank #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #girlwhorizzed #fem reader #outer banks #jj obx imagine #jj obx fic #jj obx #toxic!jj #toxic!reader #cheating #jj maybank is cutie #not proofread

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paingoes · 2 days ago

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hiiiii hihihi. thank you again as always for long comments aaaaa this makes me so excited. not gonna go down point for point necessarily but there are some things i wanna address ^_^

yeah delta is very soft in this one!!! softer than destroyer delta was in the beginning. ive said before that delta tends to mirror his environment a lot which is why hes a bit more irate and kinda judgemental around canon paris. his walls are still up for pretty much all of destroyer. this delta is in a relatively safe environment and the people hes around are being gentler w him which inspires him to be gentler in tone. the thing AU delta and paris have in common is theyre both more aware that theyre being abused so they have slightly better defenses against it. in canon their attitude is basically just “this sucks but i guess thats life”. having sabina around gives both of them more context for the fact that things arent normal…

regardless delta is still pretty terrified of paris and sabina — particularly paris! he understands that he is property of the crown but prior to the emperor’s death it was abundantly clear that delta belonged to constantine specifically. like in the flashback chapter, any attempts from paris or sabina to connect with delta ended with all parties involved being punished :( which means they had a very tenuous connection. delta knows that paris and sabina arent happy about him being there. and like you said that doesnt feel any different than if they were unhappy with his existence.

sabina is trying to repair some of that damage now since she couldnt while constantine was there. paris is less patient about it and doesnt really understand why delta is anxious around him. he thinks its just a general skittishness.

and yeah delta is knitting the cat hat cause he misses kitty!!! he doesnt even know her but he misses her across universes. i love you kitty.

martino was gonna have a larger rant w his typical victim blaming bullshit about how delta needs punishment and discipline just so hes safe to be around. he wouldve brought up the fact that delta has killed thousands of people, that sabina didnt see any of it so she doesnt know what shes talking about. “you dont know him like i do”. i cut the longer rant for time and because i dont think sabina would even let him talk that long.

at risk of being painfully obvious. paris specifically attacked martino because of PTSD about having seen constantine hit sabina. that’s why he snapped and that’s why he was all spaced out and unable to speak afterward. it actually scared him pretty bad!

“endearing” is a good word for this and i do think paris’s protectiveness is one of his most endearing traits. in canon he is a hypocrite about this: he has no problems hitting delta but will lose his shit whenever anyone else hurts him. but in this AU it is solely protectiveness ! yay ❤️‍🩹

paris freaking out at delta here is such a mess though. like i totally get why he did it but its very silly.

to get personal for a second a lot of this mourning period vibe is based on my own experiences and a lot of whats going on in my own life. and again to be painfully obvious. there are a lot of reasons to go through someone’s things after they die and it doesnt even mean that delta MISSED constantine. it literally could have just been his way of processing the loss. it could be because constantine had cool things and he wanted some of it for himself. constantine was awful yes. but he was a very important figure in deltas life and delta didnt get to say goodbye to him or to even go to the funeral. he deserved the opportunity to process things at his own pace.

but i think its also obvious paris isnt actually upset with delta here. again, delta is just a convenient target. he’s wrong to do this. dont take it out on the baby!

sabina calling delta “the baby” was like my favorite part of this. but i do think its funny she’s saying that to paris. paris and delta are the same age. i think the difference in how she treats the two of them is really interesting. she clearly expects more from paris and treats him more like an equal. they’ve both been prepping for succession for a while. she’s a lot more gentle with delta by comparison. delta is so much less abrasive than paris and will kind of allow himself to be babied and treated gently in ways that paris tends to resist. but sabina loves both of them! idk. this was so much fun to write i love them all…

anyway yeah none of them are perfect obviously because all three of them are deeply traumatized. but they are all trying very hard to make this work!!! i wanted gentleness for them

i will totally add you to taglist!!! didnt even realize you werent on it. my bad !!!

thanks again :,)

a softer destroyer AU…..2!!!

(part 1)

wait why is writing family drama so fun

SORRY THESE TRANSITIONS ARE KINDA CLUMSY….. bro trust

also i imagine older sabina’s voice being similar to glados :)

(Content: living weapon whumpee, royal whump, familial whump, parental death, dehumanization, beating, PTSD, implied child abuse, implied domestic abuse, brief reference to past noncon, elderly abuse?, verbal abuse, angst)

In the far corner of the room, the kid was curled up against the cushion. The needles he held moved softly, like he was afraid to make too much noise with them. Sabina watched him through the corner of her eye.

Delta seemed to leave every room that they entered in the beginning. Something in her sunk at the thought. Not that it was a foreign mindset to her. Loneliness was safety. Nobody could hurt her when there was no one around. She understood why he hid. But she had given him the sewing basket in hope that he wouldn’t.

Years ago, she had laughed dead in the Emperor’s face when he had first gifted it to her. She’d spent all of that week embroidering phalluses into his coronation robes. Delta, however, seemed grateful.

At eighteen, he was younger than even she had been when she was taken.

“Can I see it, honey?”

It wasn’t an order, but he rose nigh immediately to fulfill it. He held the mass of yarn out to her, then pressed his hands back together, clasped politely. She noticed a soft blush appearing on his face.

It was a pink cat hat. He was knitting paw pads into them.

“You’re learning so fast,” she praised, which made him shy again. She let his fidgeting go unacknowledged.

“Do this,” she instructed. “You’ve been at it for a while.”

Sabina stretched both of her wrists out. She rotated them within their sockets, then pressed against the individual joints and digits. It helped. She’d been doing a lot of physical therapy in the past years, most of which was just stretching. Delta followed her example obediently. From his expression, the process was novel to him. He seemed mildly entertained by the exercise.

She noticed, inevitably, the ring of bruises around his left wrist. This part she does not leave unacknowledged.

“Who did that to you?” She pointed at the injury, but did not touch it.

For a second, he looked at her like she was stupid. But it fell away quickly. When he didn’t answer, she pushed again.

“Have they been hitting you?”

“…Yes, ma’am.”

It was a redundant answer. Marks like that didn’t appear on their own. But it meant he was okay with talking about it, which counted for a lot.

“How many times, since I told them not to touch you?” She could feel her own irritation spiking. “Both of them?”

“Not Simon,” Delta said hurriedly. “He hasn’t at all. He didn’t even hit me before.”

That last part was a lie. She had definitely seen the scientist swat him at least once, back when the Emperor was alive. She didn’t like the way that man talked to him. But the way Delta was staring at her begged to let it go.

“The other one, then? How many times?” she asked.

He winced.

“…I haven’t been keeping track,” he admitted. She could hear the note of irritation in his voice.

“Caned?” she asked. “Can you repeat that?”

Her only son twirled the butterfly knife in between his fingers. His other hand curled up by his mouth when he spoke.

“Ask him.”

Martino stood in the center of the room, the other side of the desk. Both his hands were clasped behind him — and he was unmistakably annoyed at having been called in.

When she had gone to collect him, Sabina had found the doctor in the study — and his charge with him. Delta sat up on the table with his hair gathered up behind him. His shirt had been unbuttoned and pulled down at one shoulder, leaving half of his torso bare and exposed. To see the fabric hanging off him, to see him dead-eyed…

Her chest ached.

Now, though, it was just the three of them. Sabina rested at the edge of the desk to face him. Paris swayed back and forth in the chair, with a weird and restless energy that resisted engagement in all directions. She did the talking.

“Do you remember the instructions I gave you?” she asked. “I thought they were quite explicit. I thought I told you not to touch him.”

“Your Majesty,” he said, all slick condescension, “I’m a doctor. How else would you have me treat him?”

“Don’t get cute. Don’t come in here and act like you need me to teach you how to be decent. You don’t touch people without permission.”

“Your Ma-

He wasn’t taking this seriously.

“You are in my house,” she yelled. “You will follow my orders. And you will keep your fucking hands to yourself! Do you understand me?!”

She stood up then, crossing the room to him. The fabric of the skirt rippled when she moved. He was taller than her, by a good amount. It didn’t matter. She was the one with the crown.

“If you hurt him again, I can have you sent to the gallows without trial. The fact you’ve even escaped it this long is a wonder in itself.”

“Your husband didn’t seem to think so.”

She slapped him. Immediately, she was overcome with a sense of disgust. Not at having done it. But at the fact she’d had to touch him.

Martino stumbled. It couldn’t have hurt that much, but he clearly wasn’t expecting it. He stumbled a bit, which she recognized as simple reflex.

Paris didn’t.

The second Martino stepped to her, he was on him. He’d practically leaped over the table to intervene.

“Get back. Get back,” he urged, though he’d already slammed him into the wall, about as far back as he could reasonably go. His head smacked hard against the wooden surface.

Paris had the worst of her temper. His grip on Martino’s blazer tightened. With a harsh, jerking motion, he tossed him to the floor. Though the doctor landed on his hands and knees, the ensuing kick to his ribs knocked him all the way to the ground.

“Don’t ever-“

Paris didn’t even bother to finish the sentence. He wasn’t able to. All he could focus on was driving the boot into that man’s chest as many times as he could. It wasn’t a fight, and it was barely even defense. It was just a beating. They both heard the rib crack. If he kept going, she knew he would’ve killed him.

Sabina wrapped one hand around her son’s forearm to restrain him. She did so without much enthusiasm, but some degree of obligation. Martino wouldn’t have struck her. He wasn’t suicidal. He didn’t deserve to die — at least not for that reason.

More than anything, she didn’t want that for Paris.

He collapsed back against her. When he turned, she saw his eyes had gone glassy. She cupped his face to try and bring him away from it.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop. I’m fine. Look at me. I’m fine. Easy.”

“He was going to-“ Paris gasped. He sometimes got so angry he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m fine,” Sabina insisted. “Calm down.”

He stilled, but he did not calm. She’d gripped his wrist to restrain him — through the skin, she could still feel his pulse beating as if his heart might explode.

That was not the last of the re-shuffling. While they’d had succession plans drafted ever since he’d turned fifteen, that didn’t change just how brutal the transition always was. It was still abrupt, still contested. That day’s meeting was particularly bad. All of them had been recently. Paris did not greet anyone when he got back. He cursed to himself, making his way back up the stairs to the Emperor’s bedroom. They still hadn’t cleared out all the paperwork yet. He knew it could take hours of searching for him just to find the forms he was looking for, if they hadn’t been burned or lost already.

He jumped back in surprise to see Delta already inside of it. Draped in one of Constantine’s jackets, much too big on him. He’d been going through the jewelry box when the door had opened. He retreated his hand quickly as Paris entered, as if this did anything to conceal the act.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Delta froze. It did not help.

Paris laughed incredulously and without humor.

“Oh my god, what the fuck are you doing?”

Delta didn’t answer, which only pissed him off more.

“It’s fucking rude to ignore people when they’re talking to you. What’s your problem? You miss him? Because he was so fucking nice to you?”

No answer. Delta looked back at him as if he’d just slapped him in the face. But Paris couldn’t stop it once he’d started.

“Do you actually think he loved you? Do you think he ever loved anyone but himself? Put that shit down. He bought you and he fucking ruined you the same way he ruined everyone else that he pulled into his life. You think he was better just because he wasn’t holding a whip? That he didn’t know what they did to you, that he didn’t fucking pay for it?! Are you that fucking stupid?!”

That did it. Delta was already on the ground midway through the rant, kneeling, the way he did whenever people raised their voice around him. His eyes were down, bowing his head to keep his expression from view. But his knuckles were turning white from just. how tightly his fists were balled up.

“God fucking damn it,” Paris yelled, banging his side of his fist into the door in frustration. Delta flinched. At the same instant, Sabina appeared by the stairs.

“Paris,” she said his name in low warning tone.

“No, what the fuck is he doing? Why-“ Paris gestured, then cut himself off. He ran one hand through his hair, about ready to tear it out. He knew he was about to cry.

“I told him he could,” Sabina explained, slowly. Irate. “God knows you don’t want any of it. How dare you start yelling at him like that?”

She was mad at him. He hated it when she got mad at him; he couldn’t stand it. He slipped past her, jogging down the stairs before either of them could see the tears forming in his eyes. Sabrina stayed there on the top step. He didn’t see Delta, but he could guess he was still kneeling there, that he’d stay until she gave him permission to get up.

“You can’t snap like that again,” Sabina warned him from the other side of the kitchen.

Paris leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over. He rocked himself gently off the edge.

“Why? Constantine was a fucking dog. I thought we agreed to burn all his shit,” he grumbled.

“You couldn’t burn all that he owned if you had the rest of your life to do it.” She promised. But her eyes had lit up when she said the word burn. She shook her head. “Enough. Don’t take it out on the baby. It’s not his fault.”

“Is he stupid?” Paris asked again. “Doesn’t he know?”

Sabina sighed. She opened the fridge, pouring herself a glass of wine. She was overly focused on the mechanics of it. She rolled her shoulder to undo some of the tension that was forming there.

“Your father is dead, Paris. Isn’t that enough for you? It’s not enough that the both of us hated him, and that he died violent and alone? You also need everyone else to despise him just as much as you do?”

“I do.” Paris said plainly. “Don’t you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Do you know what all my anger got me, in the end? Do you know what would have happened if I’d kept feeding it?”

He didn’t answer. His mother crossed the kitchen to him, tilting her head to one side. He had half a second to glare at her, but it fell flat on the attempt. Sabina was unfazed. She said:

“I would’ve killed you in the cradle.”

Paris shifted back, pulling his arms tighter around himself. He hated when she got like this — all intensity, like she could hold up all four decades of her life on the edge of her fingers. Time flattened into a blade when she wielded it.

“Mom…” he pleaded. He worried she would twist the knife. She could have. He was fragile then.

But she seemed to realize she was pushing too far. Gently, she cupped the side of his face. He leaned into the touch, not caring that her eyes were still sharp.

“Don’t get cruel,” she said.

Paris withered beneath the gaze, nodding his agreement.

Paris looking all over the castle for him. As he stumbled from room to empty room, his dread grew as he realized where he would find him.

He turned the handle of the basement stairs, tracing slowly down to the lower level. To his surprise, Simon was right in the middle of leaving. The scientist shot him a dirty look as he passed, which Paris refused to even dignify. As if he was any better.

In the center of the large basement, the interior bedroom still stood upright. The lock was off of the enclosure now and they’d given Delta a bedroom in the upstairs. But half of his belongings were still in the cage that had been constructed for him.

Paris knocked at the door.

“Yes?” Delta called at the first knock.

“Can you come out?”

He knew the door was likely unlocked, but he had never stepped into Delta’s room before. To do so now felt like too much of an intrusion.

Almost immediately after the request, the door opened. Delta hovered in the entrance way. He’d taken the jacket off.

“I had permission,” Delta protested weakly. He knew there was nothing he could really do to defend himself, in the end. The resignation was obvious in his voice.

“You’re not in trouble.” Paris promised, raising his hands slightly in mock surrender.

He didn’t expect it to do anything. But almost imperceptibly, the muscles of Delta’s shoulders relaxed.

In the garden, well into the night, Paris wove flowers in between his hands.

“Do you want it?” He held the crown up to Delta.

“Yes, please.”

Delta placed the daffodils gently onto his head, careful not to disrupt their arrangement.

“Can you teach me how to make those?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Paris agreed. After a few seconds of working himself up to it, he followed: “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

Delta seemed caught off-guard by this, like he didn’t know what the term meant. Even though he said it at every provocation. It was quiet after that. That was fine. His mom said he had to apologize, never said he had to he forgiven.

“I know he didn’t love me,” Delta said. “I’m not…trying to contradict you. I know he didn’t love me. That’s not what it was.”

The both of them stared out onto the lake. The water reflected starlight off the surface. Even late into the night, the grass was still warm with the midday sun.

“But I do miss him,” Delta admitted.

Paris nodded, afraid to do anything else. He couldn’t agree. But he understood. Delta continued.

“Thank you for letting me stay here. I know you don’t like it. I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you.”

“What?” Paris winced as he sat up. “It’s not difficult. What are you talking about?”

Delta recoiled a bit, like he’d overstepped. He kind of had. Paris rarely heard him speak so much at one time, let alone like this.

“I know you didn’t want me here.” He drew his legs closer in on himself. He was bracing himself now, definitely, still expecting to be hit. But he kept talking. “When I first arrived. You or y- Her Majesty. Thank you for letting me stay anyway.”

Oh. Paris felt the guilt well up inside him. He was right, obviously. They didn’t want him there. Of course they hadn’t been receptive to the Emperor bringing home a child in chains, to his building him a prison within their basement.

He hadn’t realized Delta had picked up on the hostility. The thought never even occurred to him. He really hadn’t been thinking about Delta at all.

“You were a kid,” Paris said quickly. “That wasn’t- Nobody blamed you. You get that, right? We weren’t mad at you.”

Delta ran one claw around the daffodil petals, feeling their shape. He swallowed, “I was scared.”

Paris sat with that for a second, returning his gaze to the water where it was easier to look. He recalled the day’s incident, feeling much worse for it.

“You can take what you want from his room,” Paris amended. “Honestly, he’d probably want you to have it.”

Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the bitter edge from his voice. Why was it only ever about what Constantine wanted? Why was there never room for anything else?

“I’m sorry, Paris.” Delta said quietly.

Paris blinked in surprise.

“It’s not your fault,” he replied automatically, trying again to reassure him. “I’m not mad at you.”

“I know.” Delta agreed. “But I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

The grief was worst at night. He ran his hands through the grass, feeling his throat tighten.

“…Me too.”

~~~

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