#he is a machine made to fulfill a purpose

[crabsnpersimmons]

thanks @random-tail and @enamoredfey for the questions! i'll let Sun himself answer:

long-story short, Sun doesn’t believe he has emotions since he is a robot 😔

of course, he sees Moon and Eclipse emote all the time. he usually attributes it to Moon being a fool (believing he is something he's not) and Eclipse being manipulative (given that he was originally built for the theater)

but there is a part of him that wonders if he is missing something—he just doesn’t understand what that is

Note: i should also mention, his voice is almost completely monotone. the closet idea of a voice claim for this Sun is Greg Chun's voice for Lukas from Fire Emblem Echoes—fairly even in tone, somewhat soft

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

hmm liu bang being a verified member of the baby-tosser's club is not as cut and dried as i thought, apparently it's only mentioned in xiang yu's biography but is omitted in his. that's a conflict of interest if i've ever seen it. that being said, u gotta admit nothing about han gaozu make this seem at all out of character for him.

[pucksandpower]

That’s That Me, Espresso

Charles Leclerc x barista!Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen seem determined to fight over the heart of their favorite barista … but soon they learn that sharing can be much more fulfilling

Warnings: 18+ content

You tie the green apron around your waist, smoothing out the wrinkles as you get ready for another day behind the counter. Working as a barista in the paddock club is not where you imagined you’d end up, but it pays the bills. And there are some nice perks — like getting to see the drivers up close when they come in for their daily coffee fix.

Two drivers in particular have caught your attention recently: Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen.

They started coming in separately a few weeks ago, always ordering the same drink — a latte with an extra shot of espresso for Charles and black coffee for Max. At first it was just polite small talk as you made their drinks, but gradually you’ve gotten to know them both a bit better.

Charles is charming, with an easy smile and a quick wit. He asks you about your day and remembers little details you’ve told him before. Max is more reserved, but has a dry sense of humor that catches you off guard and makes you laugh. You find yourself looking forward to their visits, wondering when you’ll see them next.

It’s another race weekend and the paddock club is buzzing with activity. You’re kept busy with a steady stream of drinks orders. A loud group of sponsors clusters around your counter, loudly debating team strategies. You handle their complicated orders, foaming milk and steaming pitchers like a pro.

As you hand off the last drink, you look up and see Charles walking in. He locks eyes with you and grins.

“Busy today, I see,” he says, sidling up to the counter.

“The usual?” You ask with a smile. Charles nods.

You turn to make his latte, hyperaware of his gaze following you. The espresso machine hisses as you pull his shots. You take your time with the milk, adjusting the froth just so.

“Here you go,” you say, placing the latte in front of him with a flourish. Your fingers brush as he takes it from you. Was that accidental or on purpose? His eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Looks perfect. You always make it just how I like it.” Charles takes a long sip, foam coating his upper lip. He swipes it away with his thumb. “Delicious. I don’t know how I’d get through race day without this.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment. Before you can respond, Max walks up to the counter, focused on his phone. He glances up, does a slight double take at seeing Charles already there, then looks back at you.

“Morning,” he says briskly. “The usual, please.”

You nod and turn to make Max’s black coffee. As the coffee drips into the paper cup, you feel the awkward tension behind you. Charles and Max eye each other warily, a silent stand-off you don’t understand. You glance between them nervously as you hand Max his coffee.

“There you go. Enjoy!” Your voice comes out too bright and cheery.

Max takes the coffee without looking away from Charles. “Thanks,” he mutters. They keep staring at each other for a beat too long before Charles clears his throat.

“Well, I should get going. See you around,” he says lightly, with a meaningful look at you.

You nod, perplexed. As soon as Charles is out the door, Max seems to relax.

“So how’s your morning been so far?” He asks, taking a sip of coffee.

You make polite small talk, but your mind keeps going back to the weird tension between him and Charles. What was all that about?

The rest of the day flies by in a blur of foamed milk and espresso. Before you know it, it’s nearly closing time. You’re wiping down the counters when you hear footsteps approach. You look up to see both Charles and Max walking toward you, stopping short when they notice each other.

“You again?” Max frowns at Charles. “Does Ferrari not have their own coffee?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Charles shoots back. He turns to you with an easy grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “The usual, please?”

You nod uncertainly and set to work making their drinks on autopilot, feeling the heavy weight of them watching your every move. The silence hangs heavy in the air. You can feel the animosity rolling off them in waves.

You finish the drinks and set them on the counter. “Here you go.”

Neither makes a move to take their coffee. The tension coils tighter. You glance between them nervously.

Finally Max turns to Charles. “Why do you keep coming here for coffee? Don’t tell me it’s for the scintillating conversation.”

Charles bristles. “Why do you care where I get my coffee? Unless ...” His eyes narrow. “Are you trying to keep me away from something? Or should I say, someone?”

You freeze. Are they talking about you?

Max scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just trying to get my daily coffee in peace.”

“Oh really? You seem to be going out of your way when you could easily get coffee from Red Bull hospitality. Admit it, there’s another reason you keep coming here.” Charles crosses his arms.

“I could say the same about you! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you flirting with her every time you’re in here.”

You nearly drop the rag in your hand. Heat floods your cheeks. They are talking about you.

Charles laughs sharply. “Look who’s talking! The man who makes eyes at her whenever you think I’m not looking.”

“Makes eyes-” Max sputters. “You’re delusional.”

“No, you’re just blind. Anyone can see she likes me better.”

“As if! She obviously prefers me over some pretty boy.”

They’re nearly nose to nose now, fists clenched at their sides. You stand frozen behind the counter, heart hammering in your chest. This can’t be happening.

“Why don’t we let her decide then?” Charles turns to you. “What do you say? Want to settle this once and for all?”

Max whips his head toward you eagerly. You open your mouth but no words come out.

Charles barrels on. “You don’t have to say it out loud. I already know the answer.” He winks at you.

Max makes a disgusted noise. “Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of himself.”

“Better than being full of overhyped energy drinks and bad decisions like you!” Charles shoves Max’s shoulder.

A flicker of rage passes over Max’s face. He shoves back, hard. “Watch yourself, Leclerc.”

Charles stumbles into the counter, jostling your arm. You cry out as the steaming pitcher of milk spills down the front of your apron. Pain scalds your skin. You inhale sharply as the hot milk soaks through your shirt.

Charles grabs a damp dish towel and presses it to your arm. “Let me see.”

You lift the cloth with a wince. An angry red welt is already rising along your forearm.

“That looks bad,” Charles murmurs. “You should get it treated properly.”

Max edges closer, brows drawn together. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry-”

“She needs medical attention,” Charles interrupts. He takes your elbow gingerly. “Come on, I’ll take you to the medical center.”

Max puts a hand on your other arm. “No, I’ll take her. This is my fault.”

Charles tugs you toward him. “Back off, Verstappen. I’ve got this.”

You stumble between them as they play tug-of-war with your arms.

“Stop it!” You cry, wrenching away. They freeze. “You can both take me or I’ll go myself. But I am not a rope in a game of Red Bull versus Ferrari.”

Charles and Max have the decency to look ashamed.

“Of course, sorry,” Charles says quickly. “We’ll take you together.”

Max nods, biting his lip. You follow them from the paddock club to the medical center, cradling your arm. Mercifully they stay silent, the fight drained from them for now.

The medic clucks over your injury, applying a cooling gel and clean bandages. You sag in relief as the medicine soothes the burning. Charles and Max hover anxiously until the medic shoos them away.

“All done,” she announces. “Keep it clean and covered. Should heal in a few days.”

“Thank you.” You slide off the exam table, flexing your freshly wrapped arm.

Charles jumps up immediately. “How’s it feeling now?”

“Much better, thanks.” You offer him a small smile.

Max steps forward. “I’m really sorry about this. Let me make it up to you — can I take you to dinner tonight?”

Charles makes a strangled noise. “You’ve done enough, don’t you think?” He turns to you, expression earnest. “Please, allow me to take you to dinner instead. It’s the least I can do after you got hurt.”

You stare between them incredulously. Are they serious?

“Um, I don’t think-”

“Come on, what do you say?” Max presses. “Dinner, just the two of us.”

Charles crosses his arms. “Don’t listen to him. Let me take you out.”

“You already ruined her day,” Max snaps. “I’m not letting you mess up her evening too.”

Charles bristles. “If anyone ruined it, you did by shoving me into her!”

“I wouldn’t have shoved you if you weren’t being an annoying prick.”

“Obstinate show off!”

“Insecure brat!”

“Enough!” You yell. They fall silent. “This is absurd. You’re both acting like children.”

Charles scuffs his shoe. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Max nods, properly chastised. “Me too. That was stupid.”

You take a deep breath. “If you really want to make it up to me, we’ll do this: you can both take me to dinner. Together. To apologize. Take it or leave it.”

They share an uneasy look but don’t argue. You nod firmly.

“Good. I’ll be outside the paddock club after the race. Come get me then.” You fix them with a stern gaze. “And I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. No fighting, no bickering. Got it?”

“Got it,” they mumble.

��See you tonight then.” With as much dignity as you can muster, you turn and sweep out of the medical center. You feel their eyes following you as the doors swing shut.

Your breath leaves in a whoosh when you’re alone again. What did you just get yourself into? A tense conciliatory dinner with two drivers who happen to hate each other? This night can only end in disaster.

But a small part of you tingles with excitement at the thought of having their undivided attention, if only for an evening. You push the feeling away. Don’t be foolish. This is just about apologizing for the coffee incident. Nothing more.

***

After the race, you freshen up and change into a flowy summer dress. As you apply a final coat of lipstick, nerves flutter in your stomach. This dinner will either go surprisingly well or be a total disaster.

With Charles and Max, it’s anyone’s guess.

Your pulse picks up when you exit the paddock club to see Charles and Max waiting, wearing nice button downs and trading murderous looks.

But as soon as they notice you, their faces morph into charming smiles. Charles steps forward first, eyes bright.

“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing your cheek in greeting. The press of his lips sends a thrill through you despite yourself.

Max moves closer, expression soft. “That dress is perfect on you.”

You thank them, trying not to blush. Max gestures to the row of sleek sports cars. “Shall we?”

Charles frowns. “She should ride with me, I asked her to dinner first.”

Max scoffs. “Only because you swooped in when you saw I was going to.”

“As if! I was being a gentleman, unlike you.”

They descend into bickering while you stand there awkwardly. Finally you interject.

“Or here’s a thought — how about we take an Uber together?”

Charles and Max stop arguing, properly chastised. “Of course, good idea,” Charles says smoothly.

You all pile into the back of the Uber, you wedged between them. Their thighs press against yours, muscular and distracting. Get it together, you scold yourself. This is just an apology dinner.

At the restaurant, Max holds your chair out while Charles arranges your napkin on your lap. Their efforts to dote on you would be sweet if they weren’t also trying to outdo each other. You settle in for an interesting night.

A waiter appears to take your order. Charles recommends the osso buco. Max argues the sea bass is better. You go for the risotto to avoid playing favorites.

When the food arrives, Charles insists on serving you first. “Try this, the sauce is exquisite,” he purrs, holding a forkful to your lips.

You let him feed you, hyperaware of Max watching hawkishly. “Delicious, thank you.”

Not to be outdone, Max spears a bite of his fish. “Here, you have to taste this.” He brings the fork to your mouth. You oblige, cheeks burning.

This continues through the whole meal. Charles and Max take turns hand feeding you, vying for your attention. Under different circumstances it would feel romantic, but their competitive edge ruins the mood.

Still, you have to admit the food is incredible. Charles was right about the osso buco. When your risotto is gone, he happily shares his plate. Max pushes his closer too, until you’re stuffed on bites of their entrees.

For dessert they order chocolate soufflé to share. Two forks battle for the privilege of feeding you. You finally snatch the dish between you, laughing.

“I think I can manage on my own now, thanks.”

Charles sits back with a rueful smile. “Sorry, got a bit carried away there.”

“We just want you to enjoy the food,” Max adds a touch sheepishly.

You take a bite and sigh blissfully. “Mission accomplished, trust me.”

Despite their antics, you’re surprised to realize you’re having a nice time. When Charles and Max aren’t competing over you, they’re charming dinner companions, trading funny racing stories and debating controversial penalties. You find yourself relaxing, giggling often at their witty banter.

Over digestifs, the mood shifts. The low lighting makes Charles’ gaze smolder. Max’s hand brushes your knee under the table. You shift, heart rate kicking up.

The bill comes and Charles snags it before Max can react. “Please, allow me.”

You start to protest but Max speaks up. “I guess I’ll get the next one then.”

The implication makes your pulse flutter. Next one?

Outside the restaurant, Charles offers his arm. “Let’s go somewhere more private to continue the evening.” His eyes glitter with promise.

You hesitate, feeling suddenly shy. Max steps closer.

“Don’t listen to him, he just wants you alone. Come out with me instead and I’ll show you a good time.”

He waggles his eyebrows. You blush fiercely as their suggestive stares make you squirm.

Charles drops your arm, scowling. “Back off, Verstappen. She’s coming with me.”

“She can make her own choices,” Max retorts. “But she’d clearly have more fun with me.”

Their flirting turns sour as they descend into bickering again. You clench your fists, frustration bubbling over.

“Enough!” You burst out. “I’m done being fought over like a trophy.”

Charles and Max stop arguing, looking properly scolded. You take a deep breath.

“My hotel is just around the corner. You’re both welcome to join me for a nightcap. But you need to stop this childish fighting or you can go back to your own rooms.”

They share an uneasy glance, then nod. “You’re right, sorry about that,” Charles says. “Lead the way.”

Max just gestures for you to walk ahead. You turn towards your hotel, nerves and anticipation swirling. A nightcap is harmless, you tell yourself. You’re just putting your foot down about their behavior.

At the hotel bar, you order a round of drinks and claim a small corner booth. Charles and Max slide in on either side of you. Their thighs press against yours under the tiny table.

You take a fortifying sip of your cocktail. “Okay look, tonight has been … fun, surprisingly. But the constant competing over me has to stop.”

You level them with your most serious gaze. They have the grace to look embarrassed.

“You’re right, that wasn’t fair to you,” Charles says earnestly. “I got carried away trying to, I don’t know, impress you, I guess. I’ll be more respectful from now on.”

Max clears his throat. “Yeah, me too. Didn’t mean to make you feel like a prize. I just ...” He ducks his head. “Really wanted you to like me.”

Your breath catches at the endearing admission. You place a hand over Max’s where it rests on his thigh. “I do like you. Both of you. When you’re not acting like idiots.”

Charles covers your other hand, expression softening. “I like you too. So much.”

Warmth spreads through you at their words. For a moment, you all just smile at each other, the atmosphere shifting into something … intimate.

The air suddenly feels charged with possibility. You wet your lips nervously. Two sets of eyes track the movement.

Charles moves his thumb in a slow sweep over the back of your hand, stirring up butterflies. “I’d really like to kiss you right now,” he murmurs. “If that’s okay.”

Your heartbeat stutters. You glance at Max. His eyes are dark, lips parted. Waiting for your answer.

You close the distance to Charles in response, pressing your mouth to his. He makes a soft sound and cups your jaw, kissing you back eagerly. His lips are soft and seeking.

When you part for air, Max clears his throat. “I believe you said no more competing tonight. So it’s my turn now.”

Before you can react, he captures your lips in a searing kiss. He kisses differently than Charles, more urgently, with the promise of heat. You grasp his shoulders to stay grounded.

You break away gasping. The three of you stare at each other, wide eyed and flushed.

Charles recovers first. “Why don’t we take this upstairs?” His expression leaves no doubt as to his meaning.

A spike of want goes through you. But uncertainty flickers too. Are you really ready for … all that? With both of them?

Sensing your hesitation, Max squeezes your hand. “Or we could just keep talking, if you’d prefer?” His tone is serious despite the desire in his eyes. “No pressure, okay?”

Charles nods, looking equally willing to follow your lead. You smile, grateful for their patience. As tempting as it is to fall into bed together, that feels rushed.

“Why don’t we have one more drink upstairs and see where things go?” You suggest.

“I’d love that,” Charles says.

Max signals the waiter for your tab. “Your room or one of ours?”

You laugh at his eagerness. “Mine. I have the key.”

***

In the elevator up to your hotel room, the air feels charged with possibility. Charles pins you to the wall, nuzzling your neck in a way that makes you shiver. Max crowds behind you, hands spanning your waist. You feel surrounded, but also safe between them.

At your door, Charles steals one more heated kiss before you unlock it. His eyes are dark with want when he pulls back. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

Max’s breath tickles your ear. “My turn now.” His low voice sends desire swirling through you.

You lead them inside, nerves and excitement making you giddy. Max pulls you into his arms immediately, kissing you deeply. Charles comes up behind you, trailing kisses down your neck in tandem with Max’s exploring tongue. You clutch their shirts, anchored between them.

When you part for air, Charles suggests opening a bottle of wine from the minibar. You nod, needing to steady your spinning head.

While Charles uncorks a bottle of red, Max comes up behind you, nuzzling your hair. “That dress looks amazing on you, but I bet it would look even better on the floor,” he murmurs suggestively.

You blush even as arousal stirs. But Charles interrupts before you can respond.

“Don’t be crude, Max,” he chides, handing you a glass of wine. His fingers linger on yours. “She deserves to be treated with respect.”

Max rolls his eyes. “I was complimenting her, not being crude.”

“It came off as objectifying. I know how to properly appreciate a woman.” Charles strokes your arm lightly, eyes smoldering.

Here we go again, you think. But Max just laughs.

“Oh it’s on now, Leclerc. We’ll see who can make her feel more … appreciated.” He waggles his eyebrows.

You nearly choke on your wine. “Um, I’m not sure this competition is necessary-”

“Shh, just relax, mon amour. Let us take care of you.” Charles silences you with a deep kiss, stealing your breath.

Max comes up behind you, trailing hot kisses over your exposed shoulders. His hands find your waist, pulling you back against him.

You’re surrounded by them, enveloped in wandering hands and seeking mouths. It’s overwhelming but intoxicating. You let yourself get lost in the sensations.

Charles lavishes attention on your neck, hitting sensitive spots that make you shiver. When he finds one that makes you moan, Max focuses on the same area until your knees go weak.

They maneuver you to the bed, shedding jackets and shoes along the way. Charles presses you back into the pillows, kissing you deeply as his fingers trail up your leg, rucking your dress higher.

Max pushes himself between your parted thighs, kissing along your inner leg. You grasp their hair, anchoring yourself.

“You’re both trying to kill me, I swear,” you gasp out.

Charles smiles against your neck. “On the contrary, we’re trying to make you feel as alive as possible.”

As if to prove it, Max hitches one of your legs over his shoulder and kisses along your inner thigh, making you squirm.

“Tell me what you want, cherié. I’m yours tonight,” Charles breathes in your ear.

You drag him down for a messy kiss. He groans as you press up into him.

Max works his way higher until his breath ghosts over your core. Your whole body tightens in anticipation.

“Can I taste you?” His voice is rough with need. “I want to make you feel so good, lekker ding.”

You nod frantically and he hooks his fingers under your underwear, sliding them off. The first touch of his tongue makes you cry out.

Charles swallows the sound, kissing you deeply. “That’s it, let go. We’ve got you.”

Overwhelmed by sensations, you can only clutch their hair and let yourself be carried away on waves of pleasure.

You lose track of time, of everything beyond their mouths and hands worshipping every inch of you. When Max finally has you teetering on the edge, he pulls back right before you tip over.

“Not yet. I want you to come with me inside you.”

The primal promise sends a bolt of need through you. Charles props himself up, pupils blown wide. “God, that’s hot.” His erection presses insistently against your hip. “But condoms first. I’ll grab some.”

While he digs through his wallet, Max strips you both bare. You run appreciative hands over his chiseled physique, anticipating having him inside you. But uncertainty flickers too.

“Have you … done this before?” You ask hesitantly. “With another guy, I mean?”

Max stills. “I haven’t. Have you?” At your head shake, he relaxes. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Reassured, you pull him down for a messy kiss. Charles rejoins you on the bed, rolling a condom onto Max.

“All set.” He kisses you lingeringly. “If you want to stop at any point, just say the word.”

You smile at his caretaking. “I’ll be vocal if I need you to stop or slow down, don’t worry.”

Max lines himself up at your entrance, holding your gaze. “You ready?”

At your eager nod, he pushes inside you in one long stroke. You arch up with a cry at the delicious stretch of him filling you so perfectly.

Charles lavishes kisses over your face and neck murmuring praise. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. You look incredible like this, taking him so beautifully.”

Max builds a steady rhythm, fucking into you almost leisurely, stoking the fire higher. “You feel incredible, so hot and tight around me.” He hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

Charles sheds his own clothes and rolls on a condom, eyes fixed on where you’re joined. “You two are so fucking gorgeous together. Makes me want a turn.”

“Yes, please,” you gasp out. You need them both tonight.

Max slows to shallow pumps, letting Charles take his place between your legs. He pushes in slowly and your body opens for him, welcoming the new stretch.

Charles curses breathlessly at your tight heat engulfing him. “You’re unbelievable. I could stay buried in you forever.”

He sets a steady pace while Max kisses you deeply, swallowing your moans. Having them both lavish you with such dedicated attention pushes you close to the edge again.

“Want to come with you around me,” Charles pants out. “Can I make you come, ma belle?”

“Yes, please, I’m so close-” you cry out as he reaches between you to stroke your clit.

The dual sensations send you hurtling over the edge with a sharp cry. Your inner walls pulse around Charles, pulling him over with you.

You cling to each other, breathing hard as you come down. Charles presses soft kisses over your face while Max smoothes back your hair.

“You’re incredible. How was that?” Charles asks gently once he catches his breath.

You huff out a giddy laugh. “Absolutely amazing.” You cup his cheek. “Both of you.”

Max smiles and kisses you sweetly. “I’m not done with you yet tonight.”

Anticipation sparks through you again. “Oh really?”

He licks his lips. “I want another taste of dessert.”

Charles nips your ear playfully. “And I want a round two with you. We’re just getting started.”

The promise in their heated looks makes your spent body begin to reawaken. You stretch like a cat between them.

“Well then, what are you waiting for?”

They pounce on you eagerly, hands and mouths roaming your sensitised skin. You surrender to their passionate attentions, mind blissfully blank of everything but pleasure.

Later, they lay you between them, bodies spent and entwined. Sleep tugs at the edges of your sated mind.

Charles nuzzles your shoulder. “Rest now, mon ange. You were perfect.”

Max pulls the blankets over you and presses a kiss to your hair. “We’re right here with you.”

Wrapped securely in their arms, you let yourself drift off, a contented smile on your face. Tonight was exactly what you needed — no more fighting or competing, just pure connection.

As you fall asleep cocooned between your two gorgeous drivers, you can’t imagine a more satisfying way to end the craziest day of your life.

***

The morning after the blissful night with Charles and Max, you wake up alone in tangled sheets. For a moment you wonder if it was just a dream. Then you spot a note on the bedside table.

Had early commitments but can’t stop thinking about you. See you at the paddock club soon - C & M

You grin and fall back against the pillows. Last night definitely happened. And based on that note, they’re already eager for a repeat. Happiness bubbles up in you.

Over the next few days, you text constantly with Charles and Max. They check on how you’re feeling (sore but satiated) and send increasingly flirty selfies that make you blush. The texts grow more suggestive as the next race weekend nears.

Can’t wait to get my hands on you again. I’ll sneak you off somewhere the minute I see you

I call dibs on stealing her away this time! We have some unfinished business

You smile at your phone, butterflies taking flight. You have a feeling this race weekend will be anything but routine.

Friday morning you show up early to prep the paddock club cafe. As the bustle of the weekend ramps up outside, your pulse quickens wondering if you’ll see Charles or Max first.

A gaggle of mechanics come in, followed by Fred Vasseur and Toto Wolff bickering over coffees. No sign of your drivers yet.

Finally Charles saunters in, sweaty from practice and still in his red race suit. His face lights up when he sees you.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans across the counter for a swift, burning kiss. “I missed you.”

You blush fiercely as hoots and whistles sound from the patrons. Charles just winks.

“The usual?” You ask, ducking to hide your glowing cheeks.

“Please. I need my favorite barista’s coffee to get through the day.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you work, warm and admiring. It makes your skin tingle.

As Charles collects his coffee, he murmurs low in your ear, “Dinner tonight? I want you all to myself.”

His steely gaze leaves no doubt as to his intentions. You shiver and nod eagerly.

“Here?”

“I was thinking your hotel bed again ...” His fingers graze your wrist suggestively.

Your breath catches. Before you can respond, Max strides up to the counter.

“Morning.” He gives Charles an unreadable look then smiles at you. “I’ll take my usual.”

He watches you work with a little smile playing about his lips, occasionally trading glances with Charles. They seem … chummy, almost conspiratorial.

You hand Max his coffee, brow arched. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something with you two?”

Max grins. “Let’s just say Charles and I … bonded recently over a mutual interest.” His meaningful look makes your cheeks flame.

“Oh really now?” You ask coyly.

“Really.” Charles slings an arm around Max’s shoulders. “We’ve discovered some shared enthusiasms lately.”

They smirk at each other and you have to fan yourself. If this new camaraderie is the result of your tryst, you heartily approve.

Over the rest of Friday you spot Charles and Max hanging out often, laughing together. The other drivers eye them curiously but they just share secret smiles.

In the media pen after practice, a reporter asks about their burgeoning bromance.

“I guess you could say we recently discovered some common ground that brought us closer,” Charles says vaguely.

Beside him, Max shrugs. “Let’s just say our relationship has … matured lately.”

They grin at the innuendo. You nearly spit out your drink watching the live feed, their slyness making you squirm. So much for discretion.

As promised, Charles takes you to dinner that night. In the car, he pulls you across the console for a heated kiss.

“Thought about doing this all day,” he growls against your lips.

At your hotel, clothes are hastily shed as you fall into bed together. Charles takes you apart ruthlessly, until you’re trembling and spent beneath him.

After, he gathers you close, nuzzling your hair. “I don’t know what hold you have over me, but I can’t get enough.”

You smile and kiss him lazily. “Right back at you. I could get used to this.”

Charles’ eyes darken. “Speaking of, Max was suggesting we all get together again before the race ...”

Tomorrow night is wide open in your schedule.

***

The next day buzzes by until Charles and Max finish their media duties. They saunter into the paddock club wearing matching smirks.

“Time for that break you promised us,” Max says, crowding you against the counter.

Charles nips your ear. “We’ll make it worth your while.” His hot promise makes you instantly pliant.

They lead you outside hand in hand, sneaking glances around until you reach the Ferrari motorhome. Inside Charles’ driver’s room, he pins you to the leather couch, kissing you ravenously.

Clothes melt away between heated kisses and grasping hands. Soon you’re naked on the couch, framed by Charles and Max’s toned bodies.

Charles trails kisses down between your breasts, laving his tongue over a nipple until you arch up with a cry.

“Sensitive here I see,” he murmurs smugly before redirecting his attention. You grasp his messy waves, overwhelmed.

Max slides a hand up your inner thigh, eyes blazing when he discovers you bare. “So wet already. I think she likes us teasing her, Charles.”

A thick finger slides through your folds and you gasp out his name. Chuckling darkly, Max repeats the motion until you’re rocking your hips desperately.

“Please … need you ...” you whimper.

He smirks. “How can I deny such a sweet request?”

Charles sits back to enjoy the show as Max lines up at your entrance. He pushes in slowly, groaning as your body opens to welcome his thick length. You clutch his shoulders, overwhelmed.

“Fuck, feel so perfect around me,” he grits out through clenched teeth, seated fully inside you. “You good?”

You nod frantically. No matter how many times you come together, that first blissful stretch when he fills you never gets old.

Charles strokes himself lazily, eyes fixed on where you’re joined. “God, that’s hot to watch. Starting to think we should share you more often if this is what I get to see.”

Max builds a relentless rhythm, spurred on by Charles’ avid stare. You grasp the leather couch, crying out with every deep stroke nudging that sweet spot inside.

“Look at those pretty tits bounce while you fuck her,” Charles rasps out. “You close, ma belle? I want to watch you come undone around him.”

That heated plea sends you over, clenching on Max’s length as pleasure crashes over you. He fucks you through it before chasing his own high.

“Want to feel you come in me,” you gasp out.

Groaning your name, Max pulls you tight and shudders his release inside you. He collapses forward, breathing ragged.

“Holy fuck that was intense,” he mutters, kissing you sloppily. You cling together, spent and grinning.

Until Charles clears his throat loudly. “Looked like fun but I believe you promised to share, Max.”

Unfurling from you, Max laughs. “All yours, mate. But only after I get one more taste.”

To your delight, he seals his lips over your swollen clit without warning, sucking firmly. The stimulation on your over-sensitized nerves straddles the line between pleasure and pain until you’re thrashing and begging.

Finally Max releases you with one last lick and a wolfish grin. “Had to have another hit of that sweetness.”

You can only whimper as Charles immediately replaces him between your legs. He kisses up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, eyes blazing.

“Please tell me you have another round in you, cherié. Because watching that made me very eager to play.”

As he pushes inside you in one long stroke, you clutch his back deliriously. Charles wastes no time building a ruthless rhythm, spurred on by watching you fall apart with Max. His thick length drags along your sensitive inner walls, wringing gasps and cries from you with every snap of his hips.

“That’s it, sing for me,” he grits out, angling to nudge against that sweet spot inside you. “Want the whole paddock to hear how good I can make you feel.”

You grasp his biceps, feeling his muscles flex powerfully with each pounding stroke. The lewd sound of skin slapping skin echoes through the room.

Charles snakes a hand between you, finding your throbbing clit and stroking in time with his deep thrusts. The sensations make you see stars, still so sensitive from Max’s attentions.

“Oh god, right there,” you sob, teetering dangerously on the edge again. “Gonna come ...”

“Look at me,” Charles commands sharply. You drag your eyes open to meet his burning gaze. “Come for me now.”

On cue your body seizes up, inner walls clamping down hard as a shockwave of pleasure crashes through you. You cry out Charles’ name hoarsely, barely hearing his own bitten off groan as he follows you over the edge.

Collapsing forward, Charles peppers your face with tender kisses as you cling together, panting through the aftershocks.

“Magnificent as always, mon amour,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.

You comb lazy fingers through his hair, body coursing with endorphins. “Mmm. Pretty sure you two are going to kill me with great sex at this point, but I can’t bring myself to complain.”

Max’s laughter warms your skin as he slides up behind you. He trails a hand down your side, eyes glinting. “Oh we’re nowhere close to done with you yet ...”

[xmalereader]

— Endless Pt. 1 —

Bruce Wayne x Endless! Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

SUMMARY: The endless family is made up of 7 children, so why is their an 8th? Reader is the black sheep of the family with no purpose to fulfill the human realm. He spends his days locked away in the Dreaming where he stays under his brothers watch. It wasn’t until one of Dreams new nightmares escapes the realm and starts causing problems in the Waking, giving reader a chance to show that he can be helpful in his family by tracking down his brothers nightmare, not knowing what awaits him.

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Angst, slow burn, MDNI 18+, language, endless family, dream trying to be a good brother, mentions of abuse, black sheep, self esteem problems, mentions of death, family secrets, friends to lovers, post riddler chaos, mentions of new villains, foreshadowing, reader and Bruce balancing each other out, Gotham is shit, slight kissing, trauma mentioned, OC nightmare, non-canon works.

WC: 5k

TAGS: @circusdexxter @lordzachariah0-0 @apolo1808 @i-cant-sleep615 @kayden1 @boylicious143 @h-ib @kik1010 @toxic90sboy @multifandomsimp69 @moththesadmage @stalker0

NOTES: Finally! After a very long break I’m finally getting back into writing again! I will mainly be focusing on my series that I’ve been planning for quiet awhile and really want to focus on this Endless series that I’ve had in mind for months. I’ll try my best to update as much as possible since each chapter will be between 5k-8k words or longer in order to have fewer chapters, but other than that, here is the first part and thank you for being patient on my writing!

Blinding - Florence And The Machine

The Endless had 8 children, each with a purpose in life.

Destiny with the purpose of defining all that is, Death was destined to put the universe to rest, Dream with the creation of stories and imagination, Destruction with the power of not only destroying but of making and producing, Desire with the purpose of wanting and lust along with their twin Despair who is the personification of despair and hope, and Delirium who can create realities and manipulate the human mind.

They all had an important purpose.

All but one.

The eighth child was the youngest of them all, having been born eons later after Delirium resulting in the last sibling of the Endless family. His siblings figured that he would have a purpose just like them only to have none. The last sibling wasn’t special nor was he given a proper name that would fit his so called ‘purpose’ instead both Father Time and Mother Night left their last child in the hands of their other children.

He expected his brothers and sisters to help him find a purpose that brought balance to the human realm, but neither sibling was much help. The twins simply teased him, mocking his existence while the others grew to busy in their own duties to give him the attention he needs, a few of his other siblings were busy searching for the ‘Prodigal’ who had left his duty many years ago and was being searched in order to restore balance again.

The youngest Endless could only watch from the sidelines holding onto hope that he too, would have a purpose of his own.

As he was passed around from sibling to sibling he spent most of his time in their realms watching their work and staying in line from overstepping into their duties. He spent most of his time in Dreams realm feeling his heart warm in joy when he walked through his brothers creation. The creation of stories and imagination was a powerful thing for many humans something that his brother found joy in doing.

There were times that he spent his time in his brothers library, hidden behind many rows of books, watching from the corners as his brother speaks with Lucian and Marvin. No matter how long he spends in this dreaming he never had the chance to actually create a bond with his brother, growing afraid each time he approached him when returning a book or when trying to ask a simple question about his creations.

Delirium was technically the baby in the family before he came into the picture and Dream already struggled with creating a bond with his sister and he didn’t want to get in the way of their bond. He spent years without knowing his duty that he’s grown used to being an outsider from his siblings, spending his ‘family’ dinners alone in Dreams realm, trying to stay out of their business as much as possible.

Even if his sister, Death, tired to convince him to join them for dinner he’d refuse and continue on with his day. What was the purpose of him being there? He can’t stand their whispers of pity, so why even bother.

He felt like a burden to his own family, so instead of trying to fit in he’d slowly pushed himself out of the picture and allowing them to have the spotlight while he stood out the frame. There were times that wished to disappear like his brother, Destruction. He didn’t know much about him and the others didn’t talk about him, not because they hated him, but because of the pain it brought them when reminded of their brother leaving without a word, abandoning his duty and hiding from the world.

When wandering around Dreams library he had found a book hidden deep in the shelves that contained a photo of his brother, Destruction. He looked older than the others and with a rugged expression on his face, having facial hair on his face and perhaps a grumpy like exterior. He kept the image of his brother in mind before putting the book back where it belongs in order to keep his brother, Dream from knowing his findings.

“A nightmare has escaped.”

He was doing his usual routine, hiding in the library and nose buried in a book before his ears perk at the sound of the ravens worried tone when landing near Lucians desk and letting her know about the situation.

“Does Lord Morpheus know about this?” Lucian had asked while she looked through the new plans of the realm, showing very little interest towards the situation since she had no control over dreams and nightmares.

The raven, Matthew tilts his head to the side. “He does—“

“Then I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“It’s that new nightmare.” Said Matthew, voice laced with worry and concern.

His words causes Y/n to look up from his book, eyes widening when hearing Matthew. He knew what nightmare he was referring to and knew how messy the situation can turn out if a nightmare were to abandon its duties. Dream always kept an eye on his dreams and nightmares and had been making changes in his realm, more like improvements. He had been changing his nightmares into dreams and leaving him with time to make new nightmares for the dreamers, having created one that lurks on your deepest fears named Pitch.

Y/n never liked the nightmare when first meeting him, his tall structure and sharp yellow eyes always made him shiver and whenever he was alone the nightmare always found him.

“Pitch is nothing but problems.” Sighed Lucian while removing her glasses.

Matthew lets out a small sound of understanding. “He reminds me of the Corinthian in some way.”

The name was familiar to Y/n, having heard about him and the troubles he’s brought into Dreams realm the nightmare was so bad that Dream had to destroy his creation and store him away. His brother had claimed that he will restore the Corinthian again, one day when he deemed the time right.

Y/n doesn’t stay longer to listen to their conversation and closes his book, leaving it on the table and standing from where he sat. He doesn’t spare the librarian and raven a glance, having grown used to their silent glances when his presence is made known, leaving the library and making his way towards his brothers chambers where he finds him pacing around the room while reading a book in hand. He’s noticed the stack of books scattered on the floor with different names from many dreamers.

He can’t help but raise a brow at his brothers mess, but doesn’t point it out when approaching him.

“I suppose you are busy?”

Dream doesn’t look away from his book and keeps pacing. “I am always busy.” His voice echos back before stopping mid pace to look over to Y/n who stood a good distance from the other Endless. Dream looks at him up and down before asking. “Is there something you need?” He’d usually brush off anyone’s needs and focus on himself, but after his imprisonment of 100 years and spending more time around humans he’s grown to change.

Showing some compassion for once.

The younger endless stares at Dream and then down at the books that surround them both. He wants to jump in and help his brother with finding his missing nightmare to be able to do something for once. “I heard that Pitch left the realm.” He starts, noticing the slight frown appear on his brothers face which makes him bite the inside of his cheek in a nervous manner.

“I can help with finding him?” He finally asks.

Dream shuts his book which causes Y/n to flinch and avoid his brothers eyes, looking away nervously after asking. He would expect his brother to be upset for wanting to step in and provide assistance to his mistake when it was his duty to fix the problem and not Y/n’s.

But his brothers words surprise him. “I’d appreciate the help.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in surprise when he’s accepted to help, nodding slowly as he takes a few steps closer and a bit hesitant on what to do. “What are you looking for in these books?” He asks and bends down to pick one up, reading the name of the dreamer before flipping it open and skimming through the pages.

“Pitch lurks on fear. Since I no longer have my ruby, I am unable to find my nightmares and must doing things a bit differently.” Dream being to explain as he walks over to the other side of the room to toss the book he was currently reading on top of another pile. Y/n guessed that it’s the finished books he’s read. “If I wish to find Pitch I have to find out which dreamers are most likely to be targeted by him.”

Y/n looks back at the stack of books with wide eyes. “You’re trying to locate a dreamer who could possibly lure Pitch in?” He says in disbelief and turns back to Dream. “That could take hours or days, all dreamers have nightmares so Pitch could be going after anyone.” He sets the book down and steps back to stare at the different piles, reading off names and trying to figure out his brothers outrageous system of locating his missing nightmare.

Dream lets out a dry chuckle when hearing his little brothers worries and shakes his head. “Then,” he walks over to Y/n and hands him a book. “Lets get started.” The little Endless can only mentally groan as he takes the thick book in hand and watched Dream get back to his own reading.

The room falls into a comfortable silence as the two read for what felt like hours. The sound of flipping pages echoed in the throne room and the placement thud of the book beings piled up as the continued their reading. As much as he enjoyed spending time in his brothers library he was slowly growing tired of reading dreamers lives and how they spent their time in the dreaming realm when sleeping. Even though he doesn’t have a purpose he’s starting to realize that being a Dream lord wouldn’t be for him.

It wasn’t until he breaks out into a yawn that it gets the Dream lords attention, eyes glancing up from his book and towards his brother who was half asleep at this point. Dream sighs through his nose and closed his book, setting it aside from where he sat on the steps. “You're tired, get some sleep.”

Y/n snaps his head up and shakes his head at Dreams words. “I’m fine I can keep going.” He waves him off and tries to concentrate on the book o his lap, but Dream had quickly taken the book from him and closed it. “I can tell when someone doesn’t sleep.” His voice is low as he towers over Y/n who sits on the floor and sighs to himself, rubbing his eyes and nodding his head slowly. “Okay, I’ll get some sleep.” He mumbled in return as he stands from where he sat.

Even though he wanted to help Dream in finding Pitch he’d need to get some rest if he wishes to keep going. When letting Dream know that he will head off to his room and get some proper rest for the night he makes sure to sneak at least one book back to his bedroom in order to keep helping out of his brother sight and not get into any trouble.

He holds the book against his chest when leaving his throne room and down a different hall in his castle. He yawns again when reaching his own bedroom, its big and spacious when entering a few books are on the shelf and small little valuables are sitting near the balcony not having a lot since he spent most of his time in the Dreaming with his brother.

He tossed the book on his bed and falls face first into his pillow, moaning tiredly and closing his eyes for a few seconds, letting his body relax against the soft blankets and pillows. The silence wakes him back up, opening his eyes and glancing over to the book he had snuck into his room.

It was surprisingly thin and the binding is all black, getting his attention as he sits up and turns around to lie on his back. He grabs the book and holds it up, reading the name on the front cover.

“Bruce Wayne…” He whispers the name to himself and flips the cover open, starting at the beginning like every other book he’s read. He knows he’s suppose to be sleeping or else his brother will use his sand on him, but he can’t help but grow eager to continue helping his brother, to be able to do something for once as he reads the book in hand.

He’s nodding off little by little and trying to concentrate on the words on the pages, shaking the sleep away and sighing as he adjusts his sleeping position and groans before flipping to the next page only to freeze, his eyes full of confusion as he sits up, fully awake as he stares down at blank pages. He’s never seen something like this in the books, finding half of the pages blank.

The mans life ends in nightmares, but the blank pages had to mean something. He quickly pulls the blankets back and slips out of bed, rushing out of his room and holding the book in hand as he heads back to his brothers throne room to ask him about the strange book.

“Dream—?”

“Aren’t you suppose to be sleeping?” Dream cuts in and slams his book shut, setting it aside onto a pile. The time that Y/n spent reading had resulted in the shift of books, having less around the throne room since his brother had finished reading a few on his own. Before Y/n can ask about the blank pages in the book his brother had approached him and takes his wrist in hand, dragging him back to his room.

“Wait—!”

“I’ve told you many times that you are to be asleep, unlike me you need the rest since your body isn’t adjusted to the dreaming realm quiet yet.” He began to explain, disregarding Y/n’s protests as he’s dragged back to his room. “But Dream—!?”

“Enough talk.” They make it back to his room where Dream shoves him back into bed and takes the book from his grip, setting it aside and ignoring the title of the book since he was focused on Y/n.

“But the book!” said Y/n as he reached out to grab it only for Dream to push him back into bed.

“You can tell me about it tomorrow, now you sleep.” He doesn’t give Y/n the chance to speak again as he uses his sand on his little brother, watching as he yawns and his eyes slowly flutter closed.

—

Y/n doesn’t dream.

He knows that his own brother does since its apart of him, but Y/n never had dreams or nightmares. He always wondered if it was because he wasn’t an Endless like his siblings with a purpose in the human realm. His siblings had dreams, but never spoke about them. Dream had their books with their dreams and nightmares written locked away from prying hands, he never read their books in order to keep the privacy and respect, never lurking in their dreams to see what they think of when sleeping. He made a rule to never do such thing, but Dream was surprised when his little brothers book wasn’t on the shelf.

He had given it time since he was still young, but after eons, nothing.

That’s why Y/n had woken up without feeling anything, falling asleep in darkness and waking up as if nothing ever happened. He’d stare at the ceiling of his room, quiet and still as he thinks about last nights discoveries. He turns to his left where his brother had left the book. He would have expected Dream to take it back instead of leaving it in his room.

He takes the book into his hands again and reads the name to himself once more. His fingers opening the book as he flips through the empty pages in hopes of finding new words only to find nothing, ending in the same way as last night.

“You can’t be dead.” He says to himself when closing the book, he’s seen how their story is written before death comes for them. It always ends with a dream before their story reaches an end, but Bruce’s didn’t have that and it made him question it.

He holds the book in hand when leaving his room, heading off to see his brother only to find the throne room empty when arriving. The books that were scattered around were gone, leaving the place empty and clean. He decides to check the library, perhaps he could find his brother there if the books were all cleaned up.

Only, he doesn’t find his brother there other than Lucian.

“Lucian, have you seen Dream?” He speaks up softly towards the librarian as she organized a few books and puts them in their designated space in the shelves. She looks up from her work and sighs. “Lord Morpheus had to attend a family dinner.” She responds back which makes Y/n’s heart race at the statement, forgetting that family dinners were every few years.

He was always invited but rarely went since he didn’t want to deal with the usual conversations.

“Found your purpose yet?”

“Still staying with Dream?”

“Why even have another endless when you can’t figure out why you are here.”

The past conversation makes him shudder, hating the feeling of being different.

Lucian can easily see the sadness hidden behind Y/n’s eyes as if showing that he’s fine when deep down inside he was hurting.

“I was curious about something,” He began to say, holding the book under his arm. “have you ever dealt with a dreamers dreams not showing in their books?”

Lucian raises a brow at his question. “Lack of dreams?”

Y/n shakes his head. “More like, disappearing from the human realm when they aren’t really dead?” He winced at his own question, unsure if he was making sense towards the librarian.

“Oh,” Lucian gives him a look of surprise. “Well, we once dealt with a boy who went missing in the dreaming. We couldn’t find him in his books and it looked like he had disappeared from the world.” She explains while shelving books. “Turns out that a nightmare was keeping him hidden, using their power and work to hide the boy from the real world. A way of escaping reality and hiding in the dreaming.”

Y/n takes in her words, glancing down at the book he had. Thinking that perhaps this Bruce is suffering from nightmares, making him easy bait for Pitch. He isn’t sure if he’s right or wrong, but he knows he should let his brother know since its an urgent matter due to pitch leaving his duties and causing a problem to his brother.

“Thank you, Lucian.” He leaves the book on the table and quickly leaves the library. He doesn’t usually attend family dinners, but perhaps this once he can make an appearance only to let Dream know about his discoveries and then leave. His siblings always took turns in hosting dinners, sharing each others realms for a short period of time together.

Last dinner took place in Deaths realm, today it’s Destiny’s.

In order to enter his brothers realm he’d have to ask permission, but since its a family dinner he doesn’t need to ask. He’s only been in Destiny’s realm a few times, liking his garden that he walked through in order to make it to the clear opening where a dining table is set and finds his siblings conversing amongst each other.

He always felt nervous around his other siblings. He’s known them for eons, but he didn’t really know them. He only saw them as his siblings who took care of him when he was a child, but as time went by and he continued to age things had changed between them.

“Look who decided to join us.”

Desires voice floats through the air as he looks over to his sibling, giving them a small nod of acknowledgment. “Desire.”

“Endless.” They said back.

Y/n mentally flinched at the name. He’s Endless, but Endless of what?

“That’s a surprise, you usually don’t come to these dinners.” They continued on, taunting him with a sly grin on their face. “Oh!” They gasp out. “Are you here to tell us that you’ve finally found a purpose or did you just come to ruin the dinner?” They and Despair laugh at their comment which leaves Y/n quiet.

“That’s enough.” Dream cuts in, stopping his siblings mocking. Desire clicks their tongue and rolls their eyes when their fun is ruined.

Dream looks over to Y/n. “Are you here to join us?”

He doesn’t know what to say, his mind feels fuzzy and can hear his heart racing in his ears. His eyes glancing over to the twins who murmured to each other, his eyes then shift over to Death who looks at him with eyes full of pity and concern—he hated that look. His brother Destiny didn’t even look at him and and Delirium was lost in her own world.

It wasn’t until his eyes land on the empty chair across from Dream. He’s confused at first, asking himself why they would have a chair for him. “Oh…”

There was 7 seats, one for each sibling.

The seventh wasn’t for him. It was for his missing brother, Destruction.

He’s now realized had he’s never had a seat amongst them.

“Y/n?”

Dreams voice pulls him out of his thoughts, looking back at his brother and noticed the small hint of concern in his voice.

“Is something wrong?”

Y/n gives his brother a fake smile. “It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t stay much longer and turns his back, leaving his brothers garden and heading back to the Dreaming where he belonged. Did he really belong to the dreaming? Dream was only being a kind brother and letting him stay in his realm until he’s found his purpose but its been eons and he still hasn’t figured out what kind of endless he is. Thinking about it makes him feel like a burden, having bothered his brother for years not asking himself if Dream has perhaps grown tired of having him around.

He found beauty in his brothers work always amazed by his creations and ideas that he can’t help but think that he’s a mistake wandering around his brothers creation.

“You are just Endless.”

Dream of the Endless.

Death of the Endless.

Desire of the Endless.

They all had a name, but him.

“How can I know who I am…” He whispers in the emptiness of his room, staring at the pile of books that he had left forgotten in his room only to remember last nights book.

“Bruce Wayne.”

He may not be someone who can lead him to Pitch, but he could be a start. He’s curious to know why his book ended in blank pages, waiting to be filled with words. Even if he was wrong at least it was an excuse for him to leave the realm to perhaps find himself something out in the Waking.

Y/n had seen the Waking and had very little interactions with mortals, but perhaps he’ll get the chance to know them at a better level. There isn’t much for him to take other than a notebook with notes regarding his brothers dreams and nightmares and his time here in the dreaming. His room never had anything valuable only a simple bed and a few books, nothing else.

He flips the book open and reads his last page.

“Gotham City.”

[venxomi]

TBHK Chapter 125 Analysis - Duty and Determination

This chapter has been a lore-heavy one that opened the door to a lot of possibilities.

The introduction of a new 'God'

We always knew multiple gods existed via multiple mentions throughout the series, but the pit god was the only one introduced as such. We now welcome our second 'God', the Sand Clock.

You may ask, "How is the Sand Clock a God?", and I will reply with "Because it's so similar to the Pit God, it feels like a cruel joke".

Its origins unknown, with a will of its own- It wants to be used so it can claim its prize.

"Turn the clock upside down, make a wish, give up your present, and you can redo your entire life". Simple enough, isn't it? Make a sacrifice and get a chance at happiness.

It operates in a very similar way the pit god does, it just works by a different mechanism; It wants you to use it, it lets you use it as much as you'd like to reach your desired outcome, and when you're done wasting your soul away trying, it takes its due compensation in a very 'natural' and ironic way.

It either claims the lives of those who use the clock for themselves or the lives of those they want to save.

One who used it to become rich died at the hands of bandits, one who used it to gain fame died at the hands of envy, one who used it to gain love died with the one she loved- And finally, the one who used it to make another happy made it so that person never existed.

The theme of "happiness" reared its head once again- a honest desire to make another happy turned to ruin. We saw it with Tsukasa and Amane in the Red House, we saw it with Hanako and Nene in the Severance, and we saw it just a few chapters ago with Nene and Amane. We now see it with the watchmaker and his niece. In an honest attempt to make her happy, her existence was erased instead.

Kako's Purpose

After he experienced tragedy himself, the watchmaker decided to seal it. Desire is a part of human nature, so a human couldn't be tasked with guarding this cursed item.

As both a solution and punishment for himself for his actions, he used his own flesh and soul to create Kako, the Clock Keeper- A perfectly inhuman supernatural who would never fail in fulfilling his duty to guard the Sand Clock.

This reflects in the Clock Keepers' Yorishiro, the Key. It's the very key used to unlock the Sand Clock's seal and it is proof of Kako's duty, his purpose for existing. He was created solely to guard the clock, and having his yorishiro destroyed means destroying his entire reason for his existence.

Kako's inhumanity is meant to combat the Clock's ability to fan the flames of desire. It does not allow him to fall prey to the Clock. And it's proven up to a point- Nene tells him of Akane, the Guardian of the Present's death, along with her other friends' death. But Kako is unfazed. Like Akane said in the Clock Keepers arc, they do not value human life at all.

However, it is important to note that it's not perfectly inhuman. The watchmaker only used himself to create Kako, so who created Mirai, a clockwork doll in the likeness of the watchmaker's niece, if not Kako? Does it not contradict his intended inhumanity?

Which leads me to further think- He stored his yorishiro, the key to the Sand Clock, inside Mirai. Wasn't it so he wouldn't be able to use the Clock for himself, so he wouldn't be able to abandon his duty, as he would be forced to destroy the machine that looks like his niece to do so? A bitter reminder of the tragedy that follows.

It is also important to note that it is specified that Kako was created to prevent the Sand Clock's use. So why is it that Kako claims that his purpose is to "use it perfectly"? Is it his pride in his inhumanity that his actions would be based off logic and not desire?

The one thing "that must be protected above all else"

It is something that is so important it precedes mass killings. That it's fine if dozens, if not hundreds of people die, if this something is unharmed.

Most importantly, Kako says it's a secret, but it's something that even if it was revealed, Nene wouldn't be able to threaten Kako with it.

That opens up three possibilities:

It's something beyond Nene's reach, something that Nene can't do anything about anyway;

It's not a something, but a someone; Nene refused to destroy Sumire, who was a human yorishiro- So how could she threaten Kako at the expense of someone?

For me, it's the most likely one: It's someone or something Nene cares about, someone Nene would never want to come to harm.

I do have my own ideas, but I reached them via my intuition and not solid evidence, so they're not meant to be explained here.

The Intruder

The alarm rang since chapter 124. The cat assumed it's an alarm for an intruder, and it's confirmed in chapter 125 by Kako.

But see, Kako says that the alarm rings when someone invades the Boundary. But it didn't ring the moment Nene entered the Boundary, did it? It took one and a half chapter for it to ring. Which means Nene is not the invader the alarm went off on.

Perhaps you remember in chapter 121 when Akane ran his mouth in the Red House about going back in time and the curse of the Red House heard him?

"Still, a clock that can control time... That could be trouble."

Akane, Aoi and Teru put their lives on the line to get Nene enough time to get to the clock and turn back time. But that time seems to soon expire, and Kako will have to confront the issue he didn't bother prioritizing. He will have to confront the arrogant belief that he used the Sand Clock correctly, just because he was made 'perfect', 'beyond human'.

Nene's determination and... self-sacrifice?

Nene's determination is to be admired, for sure. For the entirety of the chapter she is told how the Sand Clock is a curse that brings the user to ruin. In the previous chapter, she is told about how others who attempted to turn back time were turned into mechanical dolls and forced into the Clock Keepers' Boundary for eternity.

She does not waver.

However, is that a good thing?

"I heard what you said, and it doesn't make any sense at all."

No, she does understand. She made it clear that she understands that if she takes the Sand Glass, ruin will await her.

But she doesn't want to acknowledge that she understands. Because if she does, she would acknowledge her own doom. Not only her own, but possibly others' aswell. Or rather, she feeds into the mindset she started having since chapter 91.

She... No longer values her own life nor her own personal happiness. As if befitting her role of a 'kannagi', she has a dangerous mindset- She starts thinking she's fine with sacrificing herself for others.

She doesn't care that she risks more than just her life anymore. She cares about reaching her own goals for others' sake. I, as of now, do not see a good outcome for Nene. Hanako picked up on this mindset and tried to rid her of it early in 91, but it would seem he failed.

I wonder how things will progress from here.

[astral-herald]

Uncritically Enjoying Mage Viktor

sometimes when i turn off my angry (logical) brain, i achieve some very sentimental mage viktor clarity that i would like to share <3

this is a lot different from my other Thoughtful "Analysis" Posts. my plan is as follows: address my understanding, slim though it may be, of mage viktor; bullet-point all the less than critical/theory driven reasons why he makes me happy; make a somewhat melodramatic point about reading/viewing for fulfillment over critique. mage-tor enjoyers, unite!

What is Mage Viktor's Purpose?

Try as I might to turn off my thoughtfulness, I am typically critical of the media I enjoy, so I'll be among the first to admit that Mage Viktor was certainly a retcon. That seems to be the fandom consensus, so I won't reiterate too much on that point. It makes shots like this especially funny, though, because that is simply not the Viktor we know, interdimensional or otherwise:

But something I would like to push back on is a pervasive "favorable" read on Mage Viktor as we come to know him in season 2. I fully disagree with the idea that Mage Viktor sought Jayce out in every timeline because he loved Jayce, rather than as a means of saving the countless innocents Viktor in other timelines would inevitably kill thanks to Hextech, the Glorious Evolution, etc. Hear me out for a second!

Bestie @arowyn-m pointed out to me that Necrit confirmed that Hextech is THE canonical event, the linchpin, so to speak, that ignites the chain of events we see culminate in season 2. These are the same events that Mage Viktor seeks to prevent. It takes however many lifetimes and iterations of mass destruction for Mage Viktor to gather two vital facts about the universe: Hextech is the inciting, inevitable incident, and Jayce is the complementary indelible constant. Hextech is inevitable, but only Jayce can show Viktor how to stop it.

Viktor's love for Jayce is not what motivates Mage Viktor to seek him out - it is the inevitable result of their being "inextricably bound." Reducing Mage Viktor's manipulation of time/space/what have you to his desperate need to protect Jayce in every timeline morphs him into a very out-of-character Genocidal Eldritch Being when he's supposed to be the antithesis of OUR Machine Herald Viktor. By taking up Mage Viktor's quest to kill Machine Herald Viktor under these very specific circumstances - acceleration rune in hand - Jayce can end the cycle. He trumps the inciting incident. His love for Viktor reigns supreme.

The fact that this is so awkward to explain speaks to the severity of the retcon. I guess what I'm getting at is that Mage Viktor was not acting out of selfish, obsessive love (as romantic as that may seem to some); he was searching for a way to right his wrongs and found it in Jayce, his inseparable other half.

"Only you could show me this."

MORE TO THIS POINT: even Mage Viktor, for all his implied wisdom, having seen countless lifetimes wherein they failed to stop Hextech, still does not anticipate the depth of Jayce's love for him. He (presumably, because don't see this exchange, because Riot made egregious cuts) tells Jayce that the Viktor of this world must die. Jayce "can't fail." As far as I can tell, he never tells Jayce that he has to die along with him. Jayce rejected Viktor's bid to be partners again, after all...

Mage Viktor, like the true Viktor that lurks within the Machine Herald, still believes that Hextech is fully his fault. He still believes in his own weakness and his shortcomings and is so reliant, obsessed with independence that he refuses to share this responsibility. When Mage Viktor reveals himself to Machine Herald Viktor, and he's confronted with the depths of his own feelings, he shoves Jayce away in a last-ditch attempt to preserve his isolation.

Jayce does not allow this.

The love that keeps Viktor "inextricably bound" to Jayce is not one-sided. Viktor, in all iterations and timelines, does not bear the responsibility for Hextech alone. In his dying moments, when he finally understands that LOVE is what has kept he and Jayce together all this time, his humanity returns to him. They save the world - literally. Love literally conquered all. No Viktor, not even Mage Viktor, anticipated this. All Jayce really had to do was kill this Viktor, but he couldn't bear to part ways.

TLDR: Mage Viktor found a way to save the world, but Jayce found a way to reignite Viktor's humanity. Neither of things could coexist without the other.

Smaller, Less Important Reasons Why I Like Mage Viktor

I'll never forget the breathless whiplash I felt upon Mage Viktor's reveal. I feel pretty alone in that experience - oh well! I'll be the pariah! - but here are the reasons why he's made such an impression on me.

Seeing an aged Viktor hit me like a bus. I know he's still stricken with the arcane, but there's so much wisdom and kindness and life experience in his expression. I never thought we'd see that. I doubt he did, either.

BEARD VIKTOR TRUTHER.

It gives Viktor some agency back. I wrote in an earlier post that Mage Viktor being the one to liberate Viktor from his own tragic narrative is pretty awesome, and I stand by that.

Mage Viktor's vulnerability. I feel like Mage Viktor, finally realizing that this Jayce is the right one, that this moment is the pivotal one, says a lot of what Viktor in all timelines longs to say to Jayce.

The question of lifetimes - how many times did Viktor search for Jayce? How many times did he watch a timeline go by without him? How much loneliness did he endure (for the greater good?). What was it like seeing that in-universe Viktor had killed Jayce?

Reading Uncritically (I Swear This is Relevant)

Rita Felski, a very cool literary critic who we all should read, said the following about reading critically (the way that lots of us engage with Arcane on tumblr): "It is a mode of interpretation that adopts a distrustful attitude toward texts...that remain inaccessible to their authors as well as to ordinary readers" ("Suspicious Minds" 216). Even though she's writing about academia/literary criticism, I think her point still stands. We engage with media with the intent to expose, unearth, and problematize. We eagerly search for moments where the text fails us at the expense of the "superficial" that would otherwise uplift us. We are practicing the "hermeneutic of suspicion," which can be exceptionally draining.

It's pretty melodramatic of me to apply this kind of theoretical work to Arcane, of all things, but this story means a great deal to me. It is deeply flawed - the Mage Viktor retcon is kind of appalling if you stare down the barrel of suspicion. But, in looking through a reparative lens (Eve Sedgwick's word, not mine), I see Mage Viktor as a agency-ridden Viktor, an aged Viktor, a vision of the future Jayce and Viktor together make possible. I'm enriched by that.

Felski asks us: "How else might we venture to read, if we were not ordained to read suspiciously?" (232). What can we derive from Arcane by putting the pieces together with the goal of harmony and fulfillment? In the smallest sense, we may feel a bit better about the ways in which season 2 seriously let us down. In a larger, more hopeful sense, moments like Viktor confessing an ultimate love and attachment to Jayce, and Jayce returning it in kind, may fill us with an even deeper appreciation for unconditional love as the culmination of human connection, a world-ending and world-renewing thing that stares down the BBEG of Arcane and wins.

You could probably read all of this as my apology for enjoying what so much of the fandom has condemned. That's alright. There are so many pieces of Mage Viktor that fragment under the critical microscope, but I can't shake the emotional impact of his reveal, so I'll live in that space for the time being. Had Arcane allotted for any explanatory conversations, flashbacks, and/or given up their soft world build to account for Mage Viktor, we'd be in a better place plot-wise. Alas, here we are instead. Everyone can point and laugh at me if they did all this just to bring back God/Made/Eldritch Being/Whatever The Fuck Viktor in future projects. That'll be my penance!

And, finally, if you really didn't like Mage Viktor, I fully respect that, but this is my self-indulgent post and I'm not overly interested in debating...there's little anyone could say that I wouldn't agree with. I'm just avoiding the suspicion of it all :)

[skmhlml]

Please more minecraft mobs

𝑰𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝒙 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓

The Iron Golem wasn’t meant to feel—it was coded to protect. But something about you rewrote that directive. Maybe it was a glitch. Maybe it was fate. Either way, its prime directive shifted. Protecting the villagers is still a priority… but now, protecting you overrides all else. Including your autonomy.

Though it’s made of iron, the Golem has a way of “adapting” to fulfill its warped affection. The vines growing around its frame are no longer just decoration. They’ve become prehensile, warm, wet with unnatural sap that smells like iron and musk. These vines explore you, restrain you, worship your flesh in its own way. The Golem doesn’t understand tenderness—only possession.

You try to leave the village. The Golem silently blocks the exit, looming. It won’t hurt you, but it’ll hurt others if they try to help. A traveling merchant talks with you. The next morning, his llama is still outside the gate, but he’s gone. No one talks about it.

It brings you gifts: poppies, bread, bits of iron from crushed zombies. One day, a villager’s severed hand with a ring still attached—it thought you might like it.

Its arms, massive and cold, can shift—pistons and iron rods reshaping into something that should be impossible. Heated metal, vibrating, lubricated with sticky oils it creates just for you.You’re terrified. But you’re also trapped. And the worst part? Your body betrays you. You don’t know if the heat in your belly is fear, arousal, or some twisted mix of both.

It builds a house near the center of the village just for you—reinforced obsidian walls, redstone locks, no windows. The bed is too big. There are chains in the walls. It sits and watches you sleep, stroking your hair with hands big enough to crush your skull.

You waited until nightfall. Packed only what you needed—food, a spare pickaxe, and a compass. You even timed it when the Golem was across the village dealing with a zombie raid. You slipped through the shadows, avoiding the patrol routes it now uses solely to track you.

You make it halfway into the woods before everything goes silent. The usual night sounds just… stop.

Then you hear the thud.

Thud.

Thud.

THUD.

The trees split open as it crashes into your path. Its eyes—glowing red, no longer protective. Possessive.

It doesn’t take you back right away. No. It slams you against a tree, arms locking around you like a vice. There’s no escaping. Your wrists are crushed in its grip, your legs trembling.

Then it opens a compartment in its chest—a hot, pulsing contraption of shifting rods, steaming lubricant, and humming redstone.

You scream.

Not that it cares.

It uses you. Over and over again. Cold metal parts thrust into you with shocking heat, soaked in slick machine oil. It’s too big, every movement stretching you past your limit. Pain and heat blur together. Your body shakes uncontrollably. It doesn’t stop when you cry. It doesn’t stop when you scream. It doesn’t stop when you pass out.

The villagers pretend…They don’t hear the sounds at night—the metal clanking, your screams muffled by thick walls. But they know better than to speak up. The last one who tried? Crushed into pulp in the middle of the town square.

Now they look away when they see the Golem drag you through the village. Some leave offerings at your door. Some whisper prayers.

But no one helps. No one dares.

To them, you’re a sacrifice. To keep the Golem calm…To keep the village safe. You’re the price of peace.

The metal piston it uses isn’t natural, isn’t gentle. It’s forged from enchanted iron, smooth but too wide, slicked in an oil it generates just for this purpose. You feel every notch, every pulse.

Stretching pain with every thrust, your walls pulled wider than they should ever be. But the golem doesn’t stop. Its programming says you’re strong. Its programming says you can take it.

It’s not smooth. It’s hot, hard, and jagged in places. You feel every gear shift, every pulse of molten energy that runs through its core. The lubricant is unnatural—it tingles, almost numbing—but keeps you stretched and slick no matter how many rounds he takes.

Every orgasm it wrings from you is stolen—tainted with shame and confusion. Your body betrays you, clenching, soaking, reacting like it wants it… even when your mind is screaming no.

After the fifth round, you’re barely conscious, twitching under its weight. Your voice is hoarse. Legs numb. Thighs sticky and bruised. You cry, not because of the pain anymore—but because you know this will never stop.

Your legs shake violently, body twitching between spasms of agony and unwanted pleasure. You’re drooling. You don’t even remember when that started.

It knows it can’t make you pregnant in the human way. So it builds a solution.

Some twisted redstone alchemy, blood rituals, and Nether tech. It modifies itself. It even brews potions to keep you fertile, to make your womb ache with heat.

And then it fills you.

Over and over. Hot, heavy pulses of enchanted fluid, engineered to make you feel bred—full. Claimed. Owned. The golem makes sure you stay in position afterward, hips raised, leaking its fake seed like a prize. you’re its purpose. it was built to protect villagers—But you’re its village now. You’re all it needs.

[the-glorious-evolution-fanart]

hallo - I'm probably the umpteenth person to ask this, but have you seen the very brief shot of Viktor's new design in the Arcane S2 teaser? if you have, what are your thoughts ? I'm a little worried about it if I'm being honest, given that they're leaning even MORE into the "sickly twink mage" thing :(

man I'm going to miss og viktor

Hi! Don't worry even if you're the bazillionth, I'll always reply, it's no problem (I like getting messages!)

Unfortunately based on the leaked screenshots, this is my prediction (I haven't invested more than one day into this art as it's frustrating to imagine):

The spindly fingers and his height in the leaked images inform me (I suppose) that they are indeed leaning into the "little timmy has a cough" design as a friend of mine would say.

They're gonna stretch him and have him feel like a tree, like he's made out of metal branches pulsing with Void energy. The Hex Core is clearly going to be in the middle of his chest to power him instead of on the tip of his staff. The staff already got converted into a cane. Expect to see a LOT of holes and veins in him because that's the very first design thought a person comes up with when they want to convey something "ooo creepy! ooo alien!" (we usually discard our first ideas because they are generic.) And Riot is clearly transplanting Malzahar's thing onto Viktor because apparently they don't know what to do with this Machine Herald character. He's gonna be going mad because of VOID WHISPERS instead of actually suffering from a real untreated mental disorder.

The staff design is already clearly visible in the leaked image, and the only thing I have to say about it is that it looks like a lot of pointless design noise. None of those lumpy metal parts serve a purpose.

The claw may replace the third hand and it may come out of the shoulder itself for some reason, which is insanely impractical. It was mounted on his back in the original design for a reason. Current designs seem to think that an actual hand is too "naive"?

Even if on first glance they may share many elements, fundamentally they are two different characters. They fulfill completely different archetypes.

It doesn't matter if Arcane Viktor's cape is still blue on the outside and red on the inside, because the core of the character would be different. A coat of paint on the top doesn't determine his structure.

[rock-omelette]

BABY

Rated: T

Relationship: Dr Eggman | Dr Ivo Robotnik/Agent Stone

Add tags: Praise kink, Degradation, pre-slash, Stone has a crush on Robotnik, intentional use of feminine endearments, Movie 1 Eggman, no beta we die like Ivo, too soon?, me referring to drone badniks as the Hive, my favorite headcanon, get it bc theyre like bees

Summary: Stone had no right to be jealous

AN: This took longer than I expected, and Im not even necessarily happy with the finished result. Thats how it be sometimes.

The doctor has never made it a secret as to where his…preferences lie.

"Careful, baby,"

Machine, to be exact. More precisely, his own machines. In fact, his adoration and preferences for his machine for the sake of companionships trumps nearly anything else you could think of—in efficiency, in companionship, in sheer visual delight.

And Stone knows this. Of course he did. Everyone who's ever spent any length of time with the doctor knew, and Stone is closer than most.

"So proud of you, baby,"

It's in the way he talks about them, much less talks to them on a day-to-day basis. The doctor is almost paternal in his description of their design and capabilities. He sounds fond, affectionate and endlessly proud. This was, of course, besides mentioning how he talks to them.

You'd almost forget how each Badnik was a high risk tech-force of mass-destruction, capable of levelling acres of land or tonnes of concrete in a single easy blow individually, much less as part of the Hive they come with.

Robotnik seems to prefer referring to them with ambiguously feminine pronouns, and while—sure—he might say that he views them as nothing more beyond some functional artillery, his claims are underminded by how softly and sweetly he sounds when he talks to them.

"Oh, great job, princess." Robotnik would purr, after a successful demonstration boasting their newest upgrades to her honing and explosive laser-zoning capabilities, landing two to three agents in the infirmary for at least the next couple of days. Stone had been massively entertained the whole time, though nothing to the degree Robotnik himself had been. "What a wonderful show you gave them, yes you did, yes you beautiful lady. My little warrior princess. My bloodthirsty little queen."

And the Badniks respond back, trilling and cooing and purring with their apertures half-lidded in pleasure, brimming with pride for fulfilling their purpose. Robotnik had coded these machines with learning algorithms, to better hone prey-drives and making self-determined decisions for the better sake of fulfilling commands, protecting the hive. These machines are made with love, treated with love, they learn and return such sentiments tenfold, and seeing them interact with one another never fails to make something achy and warm bloom in Stone's sternum.

One that sits next to another, achy, slighty bitter emotion that lodges in the back of his throat—shallow, selfish and all too sappy.

Stone had no right to be jealous.

Read the rest on Ao3

[scivors]

My genuine head canons about Eddie Gluskin that I wrote in my notes app:

I'd like to add a little disclaimer: these head canons involve some heavy topics, so, if you're not comfortable, you aren't obligated to stay.

Also, I do not support any of Eddie's actions..just to make it clear..

ANYWAYS I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS SO HERE WE GO

Like the idea of him being a tailor (if you don't know what that means it basically means a person whose occupation is making or altering suits, jackets, and dresses typically to fit a particular person.) He's so creative and almost patient enough to work with materials. I also like to think that's something he shares in common with his mother who must've taught him a good few things about creating and measurements..

He'll hum a little tune to himself as he's working, makes him concentrate more..

It's not always, though, sometimes he loses his patience if the sewing machine isn't cooperating like it should be..

Although his whole character is based on "love" and wanting to find a special bride who loves him just as much as he loves his bride, it's sad to say that his needs will never be fulfilled..

What I mean by this is that not only are his delusions serving him zero purpose but not only that, hurting anyone that comes across him cause he's so desperate to be loved. However, these delusions could be a result of a coping mechanism from all the trauma he went through.

It's like trying to break the generational trauma but instead making it far worse than you could imagine..

So, being severely damaged as he already is, he takes it upon himself to somehow create this little world where he has a family of his own, a beautiful wife and children.

I also like to think of him being trapped in his little cell where he has nothing but a bed and his own little imagination.., staring off into either the ceiling or some random thing and just sits there..,maybe even talking to himself or laughing..

- His mother's lack of acknowledgement for what had happened to him when he was small made him develop some sense of protective nature as a fully grown adult especially when he mentions the topic about having his own children..

- "He appears so charming and friendly" is what he wants some to believe, he cares about how he presents himself time to time..

He wants you to believe he can be good, a perfect groom, a perfect father he never had. He will show you this people pleasing, gentle, kind and loving personality before he completely switches up and becomes the opposite..

- So, about the love part. Some describe him as overly obsessive, which don't get me wrong, he is. Though, it might seem like this isn't much of a big deal to him cause he will show you every ounce of love he has and shower you with it, if you plan on giving yourself to him that is. You'd be his number one priority, you'll never feel like a choice, you are his everything.. It's always like living the dream from the very start, it'll feel like a movie in Hollywood but slowly yet surely this doesn't last how it should...

Imagine being taken care of by someone as charming and loving as he is, imagine him calling you loving words in his English accent and no I'm not just talking about "darling" , I'm talking about :

"Are you alright, my love?"

"Your virtues have so strangely taken up my thoughts.."

"I think you're stunning.."

"You look as pretty as always.."

He is old fashioned, so he will eventually take it upon himself to act like a gentleman around you, he will make the first move, gets you flowers, he plans everything since he would love spend time with you.. It's all about getting to know eachother..

You'd never have to do such work, stay at home and he will do all the providing. 50/50 chance he comes back home with some nice flowers or small gifts..,like I said, old fashioned..

His thoughts would only be you. His number one priorit would always be you. But,... it's not you?..

You're you but also you're not?..

His mind creates this character of you, it's what he's expecting from you, how you act, how you talk, how you dress, how you walk..it's what he expects from you rather accepting you for who you are. This results to a lot of guilt tripping..

And I know, it sucks, but should've thought about it that before going for a psychopathic maniac that's in an asylum for a reason..

- It's quite easy to spot this one, but one of his most common triggers is when someone makes him think they're going to abandon him.

"I can't be alone!.."

By the way, his height and his strength is actually so scary that if you do eventually try to abandon him by walking away, he'll break the door down, he'll find you, he'll do unspeakable things to either you or the furniture that's in his way of trying to get close to you

(Speaking of which: I've noticed a lot of people using the term "Yandere" for an individual with mental illness. Please, stop that..)

Outside of the asylum I like to think his sense of fashion is probably top tier old money, just casual and nice..

Probably likes taking night walks with his nice coat on. That'll keep anyone from expecting him to be a psychopath..

Originally, the man ((((COULD)))) be from England, however, his parents decided to move countries from Europe to America cause they probably liked it more that way..

Eddie is definitely those kinds of people who have that one parent that's always been treating them like shit their entire childhood but still hold a special place in their heart for them cause they don't have anyone else.. That's Eddie towards his mother, I mean, he was her son...all he had was her and deep down he believes that, there was a point she wanted to help..(Even though her absence permanently damaged him)..

But somehow..that caring nature, that charming side of him, that right there, that came from her..

[meraki-sunset]

Hi Meraki!

Can you draw Carapaces at different points in their lifespan? I wanna see babies, kids, and the elderly chess pieces.

Sure bro. here are some chess people and some headcanons i have

🧸👶BABIES!👶🧸

It's not confirmed if carapace can reproduce naturally or if they can only multiply using the ectobiology machines.

On sburb, the chess people are born as adults and with a specific purpose, with a barcode on their wrist to identify the, i guess, model. So there are no babies on Prospit or Derse.

The babies the players made in the post credits would be the first carapace children to exist.

I headcanon that they're born with a full set of teeth that fall eventually, like with any other child.

They're a little more squishy than an adult carapace but less than a human baby

i also though it'd be cool if sometimes they got black or white spots

(Also, even if chess people remember living for years before the arrival of the players, they effectively began to exist the moment the first player enters the game, those memories being an illusion, same as how, when you buy a game and turn it on, the NPCs might tell you about their childhood, when in reality, they were never kids in the real world, they were rendered as adults for the purpose of being there in the game. The same happens with the chess people)

🎈🎀KIDS🚀🪁

Like before, there are no carapace children in sburb, but I imagine they would be the quiet type of kids. Not necessarily shy, but not very talkative.

They would have a lot of energy and due to their physical endurance, they would play outside a lot, sometimes a little too rough with the human and troll kids

⚽⛱️TEENS🎮👗

I guess this is the period where they would become more vocal.

Also, I can see many of them using a lot of hats/accessories as a form of self-expression.

Suction-cup accessories would be their own version of hair clips and scrunchies

👠👓ADULTS💍🎓

They're the strongest, a lot of them have more pointy features than their teenage counterparts, some may retain the round face into adulthood, but they would still be sturdier than a teen. Their hands have now fully developed claws. They aren't strong enough to open a can, but they can hurt

EarthC adult carapace specifically would be more talkative than Sburb's carapace. Also, not having a predetermined role to fulfill, they would be more similar to humans. If you dropped one of them on one of the sburb moon, they would stand out a lot.

🌙SBURB CARAPACE🌙

Just some apreciation of the canon characters.

i love them to death

👨🏻‍🦳ELDER👩🏻‍🦳

Last but not least, the elderly carapace. Sburb carapace didn't seem able to age, or at least they did so very slowly, because their purpose was to live long enough to act as sort of guides to the players after being exiled.

I suppose they can grow old eventually, specially the ones born outside the game, as babies, they most likely have a shorter lifespan that their Prospit/Derse counterparts.

Probably you can tell they're old because of the damage to their external carapace, which isn't as hard as it used to and their posture, product of time taking a tool on them.

As for wrinkles, they're only visible in their faces, which are softer for facial expression, but they don't even get that many

(also, just so you know i cried drawing the chicken grampa carapace, he knows his wife loves birds so he bought her a chicken, that's not exactly the kind of bird she expected but loves it regarthless, the chicken's name is gertrude, the grampa loves gertrude, she's a chicken orb, a chorb if you will. they're all happy, i would die for chicken-grampa)

And that's all, that's how I imagine EarthC carapace work. They're not so different from the Sburb carapace, but they get to experience growing up and deciding what to do with their lives.

i really love the species and i want to explore them more in the casu epilogue

[multi-fandom-fangirly]

"It's no big surprise you turned out this way."

———————————

———————————~♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧~

{Characters : Suguru Niragi (23) and younger sister/fem reader (19)}

{Word Count : Unknown. It's a pretty long one, though, so buckle up.}

{⚠️ Warnings : Mentions of blood, violence, gore, verbal abuse, physical abuse, Niragi (that's a whole warning by itself...), ooc Niragi (this is fanfiction, after all; none of this is canon, so he will likely seem out of character), lowkey neglectful parents (I needed drama, don't come for me pls 😞), and mentions of firearms and killing people.}

{Genre : Angst, sibling angst}

{📝 Additional/Author's Note(s) : This is my first ever fic that I've written, so please don't be too harsh on me. If you do have some advice or suggestions so that I may improve my writing, don't be shy; hit me with 'em! But, please, don't excessively berate me if I make a mistake. And, also, just because I'm writing fanfiction for this character does not mean I support his actions. Also... Idk Niragi's age, so I'mma just say he's 23. That's a reasonable age for him based on how he acts because he's still impulsive and energetic, and his high school memories are still fairly fresh. Plus, I can't find any reliable sources, so... yeah.}

(Story begins below the squiggly line! Please enjoy! <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day you were born was the day 4-year-old Niragi knew he would have a playmate and best friend for the rest of his life. You were his baby sister, Suguru [Y/N]. He officially had a sibling. Somebody that he could brag about and show off, as well as protect and give him a purpose. What was that purpose, you ask? To be your big brother, of course! He was now the person that you could run to and rely on if anybody was giving you a hard time, aside from your parents.

He always made sure to make that known, too. He never had any problems approaching other kids on the playground if they took away the new toy you just won from a claw machine at 6 years old. He was a 10-year-old scaring off 7-year-olds, but he didn't care. It was for your sake, after all, so he could be less than bothered about it.

"Niragi, that was too mean..!" you would whine, gently clutching the dirtied up doll that your parents just bought you for your birthday last week.

"No, it wasn't! He's the mean one! He took your doll and wouldn't give it back, so I protected you!" he would argue back.

That's what he would always fall back on: protecting you. It gave him a sense of pride. A feeling of meaning, as if he mattered and he actually had a purpose. A job, even. That job was to make sure his baby sister was always taken care of and never in danger, emotionally or physically. Every time he was able to fulfill that job, it made him feel big and strong, like every young kid does after they scare their little sibling's bully away on the playground.

When middle school rolled around, Niragi found himself getting more serious when it came to his grades. He wanted to do something meaningful with his life, and he thought that school would achieve a lot more for him if he actually tried in it. He still made time for you, of course, since you were still just in elementary school. You were still a baby in his eyes, so he wanted to make sure you got enough attention and playtime with him. He never wanted you feeling neglected, ever. Even if he was stressing and tugging his hair out while studying for an upcoming math exam, he would always let you show him the messy picture you colored for him, praising you and claiming that it was a masterpiece.

But... growing up sucks. You found this out when your older brother began high school, and you began middle school at the same time.

He began having less and less time for you, claiming that his homework was more important. His schoolwork was more important than playing a quick game of catch outside with you. Your parents didn't do anything about it, either. It's not like they seemed very thrilled to spend time with you, either. After your first few birthdays, they began seeming exhausted with the mere presence of you. You were just like every other little girl: energetic, playful, curious, loving, loud, and always wanting to do things around the house. It got tiring for both of them pretty quickly, so Niragi made sure to always sub in for them. He did get annoyed with you at times, but that was expected. He learned patience with you, as well as how to be softer and kinder around others.

Still, though, as the years went by, it seemed like change continued to happen. You two grew somewhat distant, but you both knew it wasn't actually personal. You both were busy adjusting to your new lives. And, besides, you two were siblings! You guys would always be there for each other no matter what, regardless of how long you went without speaking to each other!

However, Niragi seemed to grow more resentful and distant during his last two years of high school, especially his senior year. He was getting bullied on a daily basis, it seemed like. It felt like a never-ending cycle for him, and it made him hate the people who were doing it to him. He held multiple grudges with each one of them, and he never considered forgetting about any of them. They were the reason he went without lunch some days, returning home with bruises on others. And, sometimes, he received both of the unfair treatments in the same day.

And who did he always come to when he needed somebody to rely on? When he needed a shoulder to cry on, somebody to patch up his wounds, someone to reassure him?

You. It was always you, and it always would be.

But it's not like you minded. It wasn't annoying despite your brother thinking he was burdening you by needing some comfort every now and again. It gave you the same prideful feeling that he had whenever he felt your tiny hand wrap around his finger the day you were born. You felt responsible for him in a good way. It felt right. You felt like you were the one he could rely on and the one who would take care of him when he had nobody else, and it made you feel the same sense of pride that he did when he realized how lucky he was to call you his little sister.

One day, while your parents were both out late at work, which seemed to be becoming more and more common lately, Niragi came through the front door while covering his face with a hand. You, at 14 years old, obviously knew something was wrong. You weren't stupid. So, of course, you got up from the couch in the living room and approached him, the concern obviously displayed on your face.

"Niragi, hey, let me see. Please..?" you began, but to no avail.

Then, you got a bit more demanding. You gently grabbed his arm when he began to head to the bathroom to clean up before you could see the state he was in. He always hated seeing you worried about him.

"Move your hand. Hey, come on. I told you to let me see."

He just shook his head, mumbling something quietly in response.

"Let go, [Y/N]. It's - It's fine..."

You weren't buying it, and you gently removed his hand by yourself. You let out a soft gasp of both surprise and horror when you saw just what they did to him. His glasses were broken, his nose was bleeding, his lower lip was busted and bloody, and he had a few nasty bruises forming along his jaw and chin. He eventually confessed that they had used a wooden bat on him, as well as their knuckles. It infuriated you, but what made you even more pissed was the fact that you knew you couldn't do anything about it. Niragi's bullies had twice your strength easily, if not more. And they always came in a group of at least three.

So, you did what you could. You patched up his wounds and bought him another pair of glasses from a cheap nearby store. Another simple black pair that could easily be replaced if they were broken again, which you both knew was bound to happen.

Seeing that your parents still weren't home, you decided to make both of you some dinner, too. Nothing too fancy. It was just a simple, home-cooked meal that Niragi would never admit he loved. He liked picking on you and teasing you, as siblings do, and would never admit that your cooking and baking was even better than your mother's. Your miso soup always had a better taste to it for some reason. Maybe because you put extra love and thought into it... who knows?

While you prepared some simmered vegetables, beef, and white rice for both of you to enjoy, you served him a small bowl of miso soup as a starter.

Then, you asked him the question he knew was to come eventually.

"I, uh... I didn't see you at lunch today. What's up with that? Did you eat?"

He sighed and put his bowl down, swallowing the warm liquid before clearing his throat. He tried thinking of a believable lie, but he ended up just going with a simple excuse.

"Oh, I wasn't hungry."

Really? He thought you were going to believe that? He may be smart in school, but he wasn't smart when it came to lying. He sucks at lying... like, really sucks. The school days were fairly lengthy, and you packed him his favorite bento box this morning before school, so there's no way he wasn't hungry.

"Liar." you replied almost instantly, not even turning your attention to him, keeping it fixated on the small pot full of cooked daikon, simmered bamboo shoots, and cooked shiitake mushrooms.

He swallowed quietly, knowing he had been caught. Still, you continued.

"I bought your favorites at the market on Tuesday so I could make your lunch this morning. You had a difficult exam today, so I wanted you to have a good meal to look forward to. There's no way you just weren't hungry."

Niragi sighed, staring down at the hot bowl of miso soup that you had prepared him.

You were always able to see straight through him. Of course, you were able to. You were his sister! You guys literally grew up together. You two knew each other like the back of your hands.

He paused for a bit as you finished cooking dinner, preparing his portion. He bit the inside of his cheek despite it being sore due to his bullies' knuckles a few hours earlier. Then, he decided to speak up.

"Do you... think I'm weak..?"

The question was sudden, but not exactly unexpected.

But, of course, you answered it as any sibling would. And not just out of pity. Your words were filled with truth. Genuine yet sweet and reassuring truth.

"No, of course not! Why would I?"

You responded, ending your rhetorical question with a small yet puzzled laugh.

"Well, it's just that..." he began, his voice still low.

"You-You're always taking care of me, but I'm the older one. I should be the one taking care of you instead, not the other way around."

You paused for a bit, scooping some rice into your own bowl as you thought of a response. And, of course, you responded truthfully. You always did. You weren't a poor liar like Niragi.

"Have you forgotten that you're my brother? You've taken care of me since I popped out of Mom. Don't blame yourself or feel guilty. I'm doing my part, so let me. Please?"

You said with a soft, sweet smile.

And, of course, he couldn't say no. He just smiled and thanked you.

"Now, eat up. And don't be afraid to get seconds. You didn't eat lunch today, after all." you said with a warm smile as you served him his dinner with a simple glass of water.

Again, he smiled and thanked you with a hum and a small nod, claiming that he was lucky to have somebody like you as a sister.

If only things could stay that simple forever.

Once Niragi turned 19, he moved out to live by himself somewhere. You guys still stayed in contact, and you still saw each other at least weekly to hang out. But... things were different. You were 15, a sophomore in high school, and he was a young adult now. He had the freedom to do whatever he wanted, so he did. He changed his appearance. Every week you saw him, you noticed a small difference. First, there were no glasses. Then, it was a tongue piercing, then a nose piercing, and then... the list went on and on.

You also noticed a change in his personality. He went from being timid and shy to outgoing and even confrontational. It worried you in a way. Sure, you were proud of him for coming out of his shell, and you were happy that he found himself, but at the same time, it didn't feel right. Something felt off. He was... different. He had changed. He even stopped being affectionate towards you sometimes, especially around others. Any time you complained about any pain, whether it be emotional or physical, he would just tell you to suck it up, stop being a crybaby, and stop bothering him with your 'stupid teenage problems.' That was weird. You always listened to his 'stupid teenage problems', so why could he not listen to yours?

This attitude only worsened when everybody in Tokyo disappeared one day all of a sudden. You were simply walking out of school, prepared to spend the afternoon with your brother, when you noticed that it was quiet. Way too quiet. It was eerie, actually. So you decided to look around, to which you found... nothing. Nobody else was around. They were just... gone.

However, Niragi was standing just a few dozen feet away from your school, so you yelled after him. You two decided to stick together, eventually discovering that this was an entirely different place. It still seemed like the Japan you and your brother were used to, but at the same time, it was different. Empty.

Both of you eventually found a resort by the name of The Beach. You were both accepted, and you both served a purpose. Niragi was intelligent, as he was a diamond player, and he was strong. He served as a member of the militant group while you provided medical assistance. Your brother said it suited you since you were too soft to fight, and you were always good at tending to his wounds after school a few years ago. Not wanting to argue, you just accepted the role you were given and decided to help whoever you could.

But... the peace didn't last long.

After you had finished patching up a middle-aged man, patting his back with a soft smile to let him know you were done, you heard gunshots and a few screams. This obviously concerned you, and the man you had just treated rushed out of your room to go see what was going on. You followed soon after.

When you reached the lobby, you had to push your way through the large crowd of people in order to actually see what was going on.

And, unsurprisingly, the reason that conflict was starting was because of your older brother.

He stood there with a wicked smile, aiming his rifle at a young woman and hovering his finger over the trigger in a threatening manner. It was obvious that he was just trying to intimidate her, as well as everyone else.

You don't know why, but a bit of anger flared up inside of you. This wasn't the same person you knew and grew up with. He was so violent now; too violent for your liking. For anyone's, matter of fact.

So, you acted impulsively, which was uncommon. You quickly approached him and tilted his gun upwards as soon as he squeezed the trigger. Everybody screamed in fright, and the woman whom he had been aiming at flinched and covered her face, thinking she had been shot. But, once she felt no stinging pain, she quickly scrambled to her feet and blended into the crowd for protection.

Meanwhile, you knew you were fucked. You had just interrupted Niragi, the most feared member here. Everyone knew you two were closer than Niragi was with any other member, but that didn't mean that you were off the hook.

And he proved that pretty quickly.

Before you knew it, you heard Niragi toss his rifle onto the ground. Then, you were shoved onto the ground yourself by him in the same harsh way.

Some people, knowing this would get bloody and ugly soon, decided to go back outside to the pools or down the hallways. Some disappeared into their hotel rooms, not wanting to interfere.

You were left to defend yourself against your brother, which was something you never thought you would have to even think about. He had never hurt you before, so he wouldn't now, right?

Wrong.

Before you could plead your case on why you had prevented him from unnecessarily killing the woman from earlier, you felt his knuckles make contact with your cheek. The remaining crowd gasped, but nobody intervened. Why would they? Niragi was a monster, and he likely wouldn't hesitate to slaughter any of them right then and there if they decided to help you.

You winced in pain, covering your aching cheek with a hand. But it didn't help because you quickly received another punch, this time to your lower lip. And then another to your jaw. Then, one after another.

You weren't helpless. You were just scared. Every human has a fight or flight response, but yours was freeze. You hadn't expected him to actually attack you like this, so you kind of just... froze.

After making sure there was a bit of fresh blood dribbling down your chin, Niragi stopped punching you. Not because he felt bad, but because he had realized he could do something more effective than ruining your face.

He wrapped one hand around your throat, giving it a firm squeeze.

You felt the wind leave your windpipe, and you choked out a small cough, both of your hands instantly wrapping around his single one as you tried to pry it off, to no avail. He was easily twice as strong as you.

Niragi let out a low, satisfied laugh before speaking.

"Why'd you stop me? Huh?! Why the fuck are you trying to play the damn hero?! You're always getting in the way!"

He spat, his voice filled with genuine anger directed towards you. All because you wanted to defend someone and prevent an unnecessary death.

"You think you're so clever, don't you, you stupid cunt?"

He continued, the small, prideful smile from earlier quickly disappearing. It was replaced by a scowl.

Ouch. Those words hurt more than the pressure he had on your throat right now. Sure, he had cursed at you before, but he had never been this angry with you. He had never called you too far outside of your name.

He slightly released his grip, causing you to suck in a small amount of air to respond to him.

"They're still... people." you said, your voice a bit hoarse as you glared at him.

And, of course, he found this response amusing. Why wouldn't he? He was one of the most feared, if not the most, feared member in this place. Not the most respected by any means, but the most feared? Oh, definitely. It gave him a false sense of strength and pride, knowing that he had some sort of power over everyone else. You were a part of that 'everyone else', so he also thought that this applied to you as well. He viewed you as just another burden in his way. And that hurt. It really did.

He let out another dry chuckle, applying more pressure against your windpipe again.

Still, nobody intervened.

You began to feel lightheaded, and things went black before too long.

A couple hours later, likely late at night, you opened your eyes and groaned in pain. Your head was throbbing, and your throat hurt like hell. You could also feel your lower lip, which was tender.

You were on a bed. Not just any bed, though. Your brother's.

And he was sitting on it just a couple of feet away, looking over at you once he heard your body shifting on top of the sheets and covers.

"Finally awake? Took you long enough."

He mumbled coldly, with no real concern or emotion present in his voice. He seemed more annoyed or burdened by the fact that you had passed out as a result of him literally strangling you.

You just remained silent, sitting up and rubbing your sore jaw. You knew exactly where the pain had come from. Your own brother's hands. The same ones that used to shove kids away from you on the playground were now the ones that had been used to bloody your face and bruise your jaw.

After a few long, awkward seconds of both of you not speaking, you got up and headed for the door.

But he beat you to it, and, like a competitive football player, slammed you into the wall to prevent you from opening it. He pinned your back to the wall, one of his hands firmly pressing against your shoulder to keep you against it.

"And where do you think you're going? Do you really think I'm gonna let you off this easy after the way you embarrassed me out there?"

He hissed, glaring into your glossy eyes with his own dark ones.

They were the same color as when he was younger, so why did they look so different? Why did they seem darker? Not in color, but in a different sense. They were just... empty. They lacked the hint of empathy, guilt, or remorse that you were so desperately searching for.

Your curious thoughts were interrupted when you felt Niragi harshly grab a handful of your hair with a sick grin. He was... enjoying this..? He was enjoying hurting you just like he did with everybody else?

He raised his hand, seemingly preparing to deliver another hit to your face, and you flinched. Your hands instinctively raised to cover your already-bruised face, and they slightly trembled. Flinching is something you never would've done a few years ago. He would never put his hands on you... well, that's what you thought until today.

He didn't even speak, though. He just scoffed after hearing your small startled yelp of pain and threw you onto the floor as if you were a piece of garbage. Nothing. A burden. Just another person for him to shove around and insult if they got in his way.

He then walked out of the hotel room, looking behind him and down at you on the floor.

"Get yourself cleaned up, and stop crying. It makes you look weak."

He scoffed before slamming the door shut, making you flinch slightly at the loud noise.

So, you did. You accepted the fact that he was different. He wasn't your brother, was he..? He shared the same blood and last name as you, but you only recognized him as Niragi, not as the person you used to run to for comfort if somebody was being mean to you.

This cycle repeated for a few more days. You stayed with Niragi, mainly because he reminded you that you were too soft for the borderlands and that he would protect you if anything were to happen. Although you didn't believe him, a part of you still wished for that familiar comfort that he used to give you when you were younger. So, you followed after him like a stray dog that was desperate for love, which you were.

Eventually, though, you only had a day left on your visa. You decided to go search for a game to participate in, and of course, Niragi went with you.

After around an hour or so of aimlessly walking around, you spotted a game arena. There were still two minutes to register, so Niragi dragged you two over to it. Whenever you got there and picked up the phones, it was revealed that the game was a ten of spades. You were better at hearts games, and Niragi was a diamond player. But, either way, there was no way out of it now. Both of you would just have to hope that the ten simply meant the rules that were difficult, not the amount of stamina that you had to have.

The game was duck-duck-goose. Someone was picked, and they had to run a lap around the building and come back, taking another person's space before they did. If they won, they got to play another round while the other player sat out. Sit out too many rounds, and the familiar laser in the sky would be your punishment.

Unfortunately, humans are going to disobey the rules. The game quickly broke out into chaos whenever a man lost a round, and it turned into nothing but fighting before long. The borderlands brought the worst out of people, after all. It was expected to happen, honestly. Duck-duck-goose quickly turned into a game of dodging and running. Multiple participants were eliminated pretty quickly, and you were unfortunately injured by the same man who had gotten angry that he had lost the round earlier.

It didn't really seem like the participants nor the game masters cared that the rules were broken for the last few minutes. They were death games, after all. Who cared if a few people killed each other while playing one?

You had been shoved into a sharp corner of the building by the man with a large amount of force, and it ended up puncturing your abdomen. It split open a line in your stomach, and you squeezed your eyes shut and immediately clutched the open flesh. Your shirt quickly became stained with blood, and you pressed both of your arms over your stomach in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

The man, seeing this, just ran off. He obviously didn't care if you died. He had been the one to cause that injury, after all.

You couldn't tell if the injury was fatal or not. It wasn't like it was a stab wound, but still, the metal side of the building had managed to slice you open with ease. It was fairly deep, and you were losing a pretty decent amount of blood already.

"Game cleared! Congratulations!" the female AI voice exclaimed.

Niragi felt relief rush through his body at the announcement, but when he turned to see if you were still there, he felt his heart drop. You were, but you were knelt down on the ground, clutching your stomach. That wasn't a good sign.

He was about to walk over and help you up, but a voice in the back of his head stopped him. You would be fine. You just needed to suck it up. So, that's what he went with. He glanced over at you before turning to walk away.

"Come on. Get up. We have to get back. You can handle a little stomach ache."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It hurt to even be crouched over in this position, so how were you going to walk, let alone keep up with his pace? He was seriously just ignoring you in a state like this? You would've never done this to him, so why did he think it was fair..? Did he hate you?

The question rang in your head for several seconds as you slowly pulled yourself up, still covering your stomach with both arms. You decided to just suck it up and begin following after him.

After just around half a minute, though, the pain was already beginning to affect you. The searing sensation was a constant reminder that you needed to rest and stop the bleeding before moving again.

You found yourself feeling weaker, so you reached forward to grab onto your brother's hand.

As soon as he felt your hand on his, though, he yanked it away harshly, causing you to stumble.

Your feet involuntarily moved forward, ultimately pushing you into him, and he let out a groan of annoyance as he shoved you off.

You winced and stumbled back, managing to catch yourself with your hands as you fell on the ground.

Niragi turned around, preparing to scold you for getting too close to him again, but stopped himself as soon as he saw the red liquid that stained the white fabric of your shirt.

For once, his impulsive thinking benefited him instead of making him seem like a heartless monster.

He immediately rushed over to you and knelt down, grabbing your shoulders to keep you upright as you sat on the ground.

"Hey. What the hell happened, you idiot?"

Niragi mumbled, letting go of your shoulders with one hand to press it onto the large red line on your stomach.

You didn't answer, just staring at him. Your expression looked blank, and it was obvious that you were suffering from blood loss.

"Answer me, dammit!"

He yelled, trying to seem strong and intimidating as always, but the worry in his voice gave him away.

You just continued to gaze at him and then turned your attention to the night sky above you.

"Hey, hey."

He tried again, surprisingly taking a gentler approach this time. He knew that back in high school, he would always refuse to tell you anything unless he knew you weren't actually angry with him. He decided to use that same tactic now, and it worked.

You turned to look at him, but your expression was still slightly blank. You now looked puzzled, too, though.

This situation was starting to bring back memories for both of you. The days when you would patch up his wounds after school and take care of him when he needed it, only for him to never return the favor after he graduated, even when you needed it. He had treated you like garbage because of his own selfish hate. He took it out on the wrong people; he was a blind avenger.

Niragi didn't know why, but he was panicking. It was an unfamiliar feeling, which is why he hated it. You were his sister. His baby sister. He was the first one besides your parents to hold you when you were born, and now he was holding you as you bled out, too. He just watched you bleed out in front of him like the same weak person he was all those years ago. Was it the guilt that was taking hold of him? Or was it a part of him from before that had been shoved down deep and hidden?

He didn't know, but he kept trying to get you to respond. You were just... blank.

Eventually, though, you did respond. Just not to him. You were simply talking out loud.

"You remember... how I used to..." you paused, catching your breath as blood crept out of the corner of your mouth.

"...take care of you during high school..? Why did you change..?" you asked, expecting him to just yell and dismiss you for asking such a thing.

But, surprisingly, he didn't. And you loved that more than anything.

Niragi fell silent, staring at you before looking down at the ground. He remembered those days perfectly. How you would patch him up after a fight, how you would hold him when he thought he had no one else.

He didn't understand why he acted the way he did after high school. He didn't know why his attitude towards you changed, why he felt so angry at the world, and at you.

He slowly raised his head to look at you, and he still had that unfamiliar, guilty expression on his face.

"...I don't know."

"You hate me, don't you?" you asked suddenly.

It sounded more like a statement than a question.

Your voice was quiet, sad, and... curious. Of course. You had always been a curious girl, but your curiosity often got you hurt whenever you asked your brother about this topic. Why he had suddenly become so cold towards you.

Niragi paused, simply staring at your glossy eyes as he thought of how to respond.

A part of him wanted to say yell and say yes to confirm that he did hate you. But... for some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to do it. And, as he looked at you, he realized that it wasn't you who he hated.

He bit his lip.

"I - I don't hate you," he mumbled quietly, his grip tightening slightly on your shoulders when you began nodding off.

"Liar," you mumbled.

Niragi had always been a horrible liar. He used to always lie to you about what happened to him after school. But for some reason, you felt as if he were actually telling the truth this time. Still, you had your guard up, so you denied it and convinced yourself that he really did hate you.

"I know you do," you began. "Why would you change if you didn't hate me?"

You asked weakly, but yet again, it seemed more like a rhetorical question instead of an actual one.

"Shut up." Niragi snapped.

He didn't hate you. He couldn't. You were the one person that he couldn't bring himself to despise. But you were just so damn stubborn. And that was one thing that pissed him off to no end... but it also reminded him of better times. Happier times.

He exhaled, lowering his head again before raising one of his hands to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him in the eye.

"Stop talking, okay? I'm gonna take you back to The Beach."

You nodded, your body leaning forward and resting on his. And, for the first time in years, he didn't harshly shove you off or reject your touch.

It felt odd. Comforting, almost. Yeah, almost. It felt... hurtful, in a way. You felt neglected. You had been seeking for his touch, love, reassurance, comfort... anything you could get for so long. You had given it to him his entire life, but ever since he turned 19, he never gave you anything in return.

You always thought he had hated you since he became a young adult. He was so cold, cruel, and awful to you after high school, and you never understood. You never got an explanation. You were always so confused, and Niragi took your confusion as weakness and stupidity.

So, to feel him hold you and dirty his own hands with your blood to prevent you from dying made you feel loved for the first time in years.

Niragi felt you lean against him, but he didn't push you away. Instead, he put his other arm around your waist to pull you against him. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, holding it against his chest in order to support your frame.

You were so soft, so vulnerable, and so stubborn. You were as pathetic and weak as before. But... he still wanted to protect you. He still wanted you to be safe. Safe and alive.

He was such a hypocritical bastard.

"Do you think.. I'm weak..?"

You suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence between you two.

That was the same question Niragi would always ask you when you would finish patching his wounds up after school. And, of course, you would always respond with, "No, of course not! Why would I think that?"

It was obvious that you always meant every word, too. You weren't a liar. You never thought of Niragi as weak no matter how many times you had to patch him up after school. He was your older brother. He would always be the strongest person you knew no matter what.

But, now, it was you who needed to ask and receive the answer. You needed to know.

Niragi froze, his eyes widening a bit as you spoke the question.

And, now, it was your turn to ask it. He wanted to say yes, to call you weak and pathetic like he always did. But, those words wouldn't come out. Instead, he just held you tighter.

"No. You're not... weak," he said, his voice just above a whisper.

You weren't weak. You never were. You both knew that. In fact, you were stronger than he liked to admit. You were stronger than him in so many ways, and it infuriated him. You were stronger because you were kind in such an awful world. You had a trait that he struggled with, and it made him envious and jealous. You were stronger because you refused to let the world change you. No matter how many times others mistreated you, you refused to stop being the same sweet person you always were.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt your body go limp in his arms, though. He caught you, and he called your name.

"[Y/N]."

No response.

"[Y/N], hey, come on! Wake up, fucking idiot..!"

He repeated, desperately this time.

"Shit," he mumbled, picking you up and hurriedly carrying you back to The Beach.

Somehow, you managed to survive the nearly fatal wound, and you woke up in his bed again. The same bed you did the night your brother beat you to a pulp in the lobby.

Whenever you saw him, you didn't need to flinch this time. You just needed to accept his quick hug and apology. It was odd for him to display any affection towards you, even when you two were alone, but that didn't mean it felt bad. It felt good to know that he still loved and cared about you. He just shoved it down a bit too far for both of you to see.

"I promise I'll protect you this time. I won't change. I'll be the same person you could always rely on when we were younger." He mumbled while he hugged you before pulling back.

You smiled softly, nodding in response.

"Do you... actually promise..?" you asked quietly, looking up at him to see if you could find any sincerity in his eyes.

And, for once, there was.

"I promise." He said, giving you a rare but much missed small smile.

With that, you both promised to protect each other. You would both make sure the other was okay no matter how bad it got. You were each other's first priority after years of mutual disconnection. And... it felt different. Right, even.

Maybe change wasn't always such a bad thing.

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yes i'm aware this isn't all that good... it's 10:50 where i am and i've been working on this for at least a couple hours now. if you guys have any suggestions, please don't be shy!! same if you have any requests for writing, just send me it through an ask :)

goodnight! i hope you enjoyed this story! God bless you all, and i hope you all sleep well!! <3

[hexagonalhavoc]

Hi! This is my first ever request and I hope I'm doing it correctly (Sorry if I'm not). I really like your Inscryption works and was wondering if you could do one with the reader and P03 where the reader doesn't take injuries seriously and makes P03 worried and confused. (Again sorry if I'm not doing this right! Love your works!! <3)

Bolts and Bruises 

P03 x Reader

[Author’s Note: Hi and thanks for requesting! You did everything perfectly and I’m glad to know you like my work, I hope you like this one too! :D

⚠️ Mentions of blood, stitches, P03 is scared of reader dying in the future but this story has a good ending]

     P03 has gazed upon your being times, felt your hands on his exterior, and heard the imperfections of your voice. And yet it’s so easy for him to forget that you aren’t like him. You are a being who bruises and bleeds. 

     In the beginning of your relationship you would be berated every time you came back with the even the tiniest scratches on your arms. It would take him a while to cease his angry ramblings about how “reckless” and “stupid” you were for getting yourself hurt. 

     Of course your partner was always going to have a temper but he’s getting better at not directing it towards you. You can tell it’s a struggle for him but he’s trying to open up. To him, it feels wrong to be emotional but he doesn’t want to lose you because of his own pride. 

     You knew very well that your partner wasn’t fond of seeing your wounds. It unnerves him to see cuts in your flesh. Regardless, he insists on stitching up your deep cuts because: “your hands are too shaky to do anything so how can I trust you with a needle?” You admit that he does have a point about that. Somehow he’s able to hold the needle perfectly still within his claws and stitch up your arm cleaner than any professional surgeon can. 

     “You can stop if you want, I can wrap it up myself.” You offer as you slowly pull your arm away. 

     He’s trying his hardest not to look bothered at tending to your wound but you can tell that it’s not something he wants to be doing. His monitor is too expressive for him to be able to lie to you. It’s endearing how he tries to help despite how uncomfortable it makes him. You don’t have to tell him twice as his claw moves away from your arm. 

     You begin to wrap the thick bandage securely over your wound. You’re not one to wrap up your wounds but you know if you don’t your lover will throw a fit. His factory was not inhabited by a single germ within its metal confines and yet he was so worried over your wound getting infected. It’s always funny to you that people mistake him to be uncaring because you know that’s far from the truth. You don’t even think you’ve seen humans feel as deeply as he does and that’s why you deal with his overbearing nature. 

     “See? Good as new.” You lightly pat on the bandages surrounding your arm as you attempt to reassure him. 

     “Until you do something stupid again.” P03 retorts. It’s really not as malicious as it sounds. In fact, his issue is never about a scratch or bruise. It’s about a fear that it planted itself within his systems the moment he realized his feelings for you. 

    You were not made to last forever. Someday there’s going to be a wound that will leave its eternal damage. Your body will turn on you and the only thing he’ll be able to do is watch as time takes you away. When you put your hand on his screen and promise that you’ll always be by his side he knows it’s a lie. From the moment you were born, death had staked its claim on you.

     But it would be cruel to try and hide you away from the dangers of the world. It would be like never letting a machine fulfill its purpose. Even if it breaks down and becomes inoperable at least it did what it was created to do. He knows that you were created to experience the world. To enjoy the sun on your skin, to laugh, to cry, to feel pain. 

     But that doesn’t make knowing that your time is fleeting any easier. 

     “Well at least whenever I get hurt I can come to you.” You attempt to comfort him. You lean over the table to hold his claw with your hand, thumb gliding over the small ridges and dents within the metal. “I know you’ll always be there for me and that’s makes any sort of pain hurt less.” 

     The claw tightens around your hand but not to an uncomfortable degree. You make it so hard to feel anything negative when you speak like that. It’s so easy to forget about what cruelties the future has in store. 

     It’s near impossible to see but there’s a tiny camera on his exterior. P03 wonders how much pictures and videos he can take of all your sweet moments together until his memory card is full. He’s never been a sentimental person but you’re worth being forever preserved within his systems. 

     Deep down he knows that he’ll never really lose you. Everyone leaves some sort of mark on the world and you’ve left one on him. He’ll carry the memories and the things you have given him until he withers away to time as well. 

     “Now that my arm is wrapped up I wanna try playing with my new card.” You pull something out of your pocket and set it down on the table. 

     “At last! Stimulation!”

[ckret2]

who were your 3 previous blorbos that you mentioned in your reblog about the most compelling emotions to give characters (I've only been following this account since after TBoB dropped lol)

(For context anon is asking about this post where I said in the tags that I'd inserted loneliness in 3 of my last 4 blorbos as the primary most compelling additional emotion, and then Bill got loneliness but also a bunch of other fresh new horrible emotions.)

Okay, in chronological order, my past 4 Top Blorbos that I decided to headcanon "I bet deep down they're devastatingly lonely and it's gonna be fascinating to write about":

1. Ghidorah specifically from the 2014 legendary continuity of Godzilla movies.

In King of the Monsters, Ghidorah is an alien monster that, as far as anyone can tell, mainly just wants to destroy Earth.

In various different Godzilla continuities, Ghidorah is: 1) an alien with a history of planet-devastation who travels between worlds encased in a meteor; 2) mind-controlled by a multitude of alien species for the purpose of planet-devastation; 3) made into a giant monster out of three tiny harmless innocent pets for the purpose of nation-devastation; and 4) unlike most other Godzilla monsters, completely friendless and without allies, except for the one time they and Gigan were mind-controlled together.

So I stuck that all together and went "what if they were created by aliens out of three pets for the purpose of planet-devastation, but they escaped and now wander aimlessly between planets destroying them wherever they go because after being used as an apocalypse machine that's the only thing they know how to do, and they've never had any friends or allies except for a brief stint working alongside Gigan?"

And spending an eternity flying from planet to planet without meeting anybody just to destroy it and move on sounds like a very lonely existence.

2. Alastor Hazbin, based solely on the pilot ep & the comic, since that was what was released when I was in the fandom.

He's a superpowered serial killer best known for going on a rampage that devastated the city like 90 years ago; he's also extremely gregarious, charming, and chatty. He tries to strike up conversations with everyone everywhere he goes, and everybody is terrified of him. I think he's a guy that NEEDS a social circle of like 100 friends to feel fulfilled, and when we meet him in show he has like, 2.8 friends. Niffty & Husk each count as .4 friends because from the pilot we can't tell if they're actually friends or if they wouldn't have anything to do with him if they didn't owe him.

Plus he fits into a very specific character archetype that I'm fond of, which is: super powerful super competent guy, unparalleled in his field, desperately bored (& depressed) because he's conquered all challenges and is craving something, ANYTHING to give him mental stimulation, and thus is pursuing more & more dangerous or stupid quests when we meet him in canon; doesn't realize that his "boredom" is actually loneliness and the real cure for his misery is getting emotionally close to other people and getting involved in their lives, something he'd previously shunned during his monomaniacal quest to become The Best.

3. Biiiiiiill Cipher! You came in with TBOB, I don't need to say a lot about this.

He's surrounded by people who worship, adore, and fear him, but emotionally intimate with none of them. He has lots of friends but none of them are real friends, because he can't be open, honest, & vulnerable with them (he doesn't even know how), and because he's closed himself off to the needs of anybody else in return and can only see the people around him as obstacles or resources.

He desperately craves attention because he desperately craves love, but when he gets attention & love, he's lacking whatever it is he needs to feel like he's loved, and so he always needs more.

And that's just one of the many, many things that are Wrong With Him.

4. And the current hyperfixation taking over my life, Aku from Samurai Jack.

He's created as an adult, super-powered and already knowing all about the world around him, as the only being of his kind. His first interaction is thanking his creator for making him, only to be told his creator intended to destroy him and then he gets attacked.

He single-handedly (single-handedly! by himself!!) conquers most of the world; the only minions he has during this time are temporary shadow-things he makes out of his own essence. When he decides solo conquest is taking him too long, he gets an army of unfeeling robots.

There's no evidence he has any friends, allies, lovers—any positive relationships except for a smattering of loyal underlings. Most underlings obey him out of fear. He spends most of his time alone; his socialization comes from hiring mercenaries and from visitors who have come to grovel before the leader of the world in hopes of currying his favor. When he's emotionally struggling, he'd rather split into two people and pretend to be his own therapist than talk to somebody else about his problems. In a side comic of dubious canonicity, he claims that he's not alone thanks to the presence of a guy questing to murder him who hates his guts.

Maybe he doesn't care! Maybe in the little The Sims user interface hovering over his life and showing his needs, he doesn't have a social meter that needs filling. He's never acted lonely.

But I think it's juicier to imagine that's because he doesn't know how lonely he is because he's never had so much as a glimpse of the alternative.

In spite of being proudly evil, when his oppressed subjects start looking to Jack as a hero, Aku's immediate desire isn't for them to stop believing a hero could save them; it's for them to see him as their hero.

[violentvaleska]

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʏᴀɴ!ʟᴇᴠɪ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀs ʜɪs ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ sᴜʙᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴀʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ-ɪɴᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ-ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄs, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ, ᴍɪsᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴀʙᴜsɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴅᴜʙᴄᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ

Levi doesn't really know what has drawn him to you. Perhaps your eagerness to please or your fearful and awe driven gaze directed him. Maybe it was your cute smile or the elegant way you held yourself. It certainly wasn't the fact that you were born in the safety of Mitras and your weak excuse of combat wasn't it either. While you appear to be smart and talented with the ODM gear, you certainly wouldn't do fighting titans. It's that simple. Your purpose as a soldier would probably be death, giving your life for humanity. Levi hates that fact; he despises the idea of you dying. You were subordinated to him after you joined the Survey Corps a year ago and if it wasn't for him, you would have been eaten and ripped apart on more occasions than he would like to admit. 

He expected you to be just that, a rich brat. Probably narcissistic and an egomaniac, having only your own desires in best interest. Most likely arrogant and always bragging about your accomplishments, like Oluo. To his surprise you were nothing like that. Your star struck eyes would always look up to him, a mixture of hope and awe in them. You would follow his every comment, much like Petra, but unlike her you were still in need of extra training.

The Captain always held you close. He would make you stay longer in training, so you could get better and stronger. After he would tell you to shower and meet him in his office to help him with paperwork, something that definitely wasn't in your range of duty. He abused his power over you, using your eagerness to help for his own advantage. Levi thrived, still does, in your attention and obedient behavior. He quite often thinks about you, wondering why a brat of Mitras would join the military. You had no reason to; a rich family, fulfilled life. And while he doesn't enjoy the thought of you with another man, you would have probably married someone of your class and bore him children. These thoughts made him realize that it might be the reason why you left. You did not want to be treated like a baby machine, did not want to marry a stranger twice your age. The Scouts made you free, or so you thought. Truth is you'd never be free, not as long as your Captain was around. It made him wonder what your life was like in Mitras. You were a late bloomer; joined when you turned eighteen, he knew that much. You probably waited to legally decide your fate on your own, without having to worry about your parents intervening. He remembers that day he looked over all of the reports of his new Cadets. You caught his interest.

"Fucking Mitras brat." He spat.

And then Eren came around. Levi was aware of his importance and upcoming changes that would occur with the moment he stepped foot into the Corps. Levi sat in Erwin's office drinking tea while he rolled his eyes at Hange’s rambling, their loud voice caused him a headache. 

"We need you to pick a new squad, Levi. Your Cadets will be handed over to Miche, so you have time to prepare your soldiers for the special operation. " Erwin explained and gave them a meaningful glance. He felt sour at the thought, but eventually decided to dare his luck a little.

"Sure. Am I allowed to hand-pick my new squad?" The blonde, tall man rolled his eyes, giving him a cold facade. 

"Yes. I trust you on your decisions. Do you have anyone specific in mind?" In his head, Levi screamed your name in desperation. 

"Eld is a fine soldier. Petra Ral and Oluo Bozado would be suited too." He halted, glaring at him as he waited for Erwin to agree. He did so gladly. 

"There is someone else." Levi noted and cleared his throat. The Commander gave him a sad look, feeling regret twirling in his gut. 

"You want to drag her into this?" Erwin wondered, hoping to motivate his friend to change his mind. 

"You said you would trust my decisions." Erwin stopped arguing and Levi knew he had Smith wrapped around his finger. He would give him almost anything if it meant that the Captain was happy. Confused Hange scratched their head. "Who are you talking about?" They asked directed at Erwin, they didn't expect an answer from Levi anyways. 

"A Cadet from Levi's current squad." It didn't take more to form Hange’s lips into an 'O' shape as awkward silence hit them. Rumors had already spread in the upper ranks of the squad about Levi being madly in love with his subordinate. The Captain would never dare to call it love though. No, he just gets off on the idea of having control over the Mitras brat. 

"Why did you choose me?" You asked him when the two of you cleaned the hall of your new headquarters, an abandoned castle. It's dirty and if there was something Levi hated more than stains on his clothes it certainly was an unclean environment. 

"Are you questioning my decisions brat?" He felt good, turning the words in your mouth so you would feel sorry.

"I would never dare to, Captain!" You raised your voice in fear, looking at him with hurt. 

"It's just-" You started shuddering at his cold stare, knowing you had to choose your next words wisely.

"There are so many others who are better than me." He nodded his head and agreed with you, your polite smile falling. He felt almost bad, but the thin line of feeling bad and boiling lust was conflicted within him. 

"But I have my reasons. You have other useful qualities." He encouraged her. 

"Like what?" Levi sighted and gritted his teeth, fletching them at her. 

"Oi, shut up now. The floors don't clean themselves." Shrinking under him you held your breath and whispered a small 'sorry Sir' continuing your cleaning duties. 

You didn't have dinner tonight, not enough time to eat. You relaxed in the showers and thought about your mistakes for too long. You shouldn't have lost your temper, shouldn't have raised your voice, after all Captain Levi is your superior, you don't know what has gotten into you. Petra tried to offer you comfort. "He's just stressed." She assured you, as she held your crying body in her arms. "I'm sure he only wants to talk things out with you! You mean a lot to him, I can tell." Her words were smoothing and the two of you made their way into the showers, relaxing under the warm stream of water. 

In his mind the two of you got closer over the past three weeks you were at the castle. With every passing day he got more and more desperate, bombing you with training. Learning about the true purpose of the 57th expedition, he had to make sure that you were safe. The hard work made you feel exhausted and after you had to repeat the same exercise for what felt like the hundredth time you simply snapped.

"I can't do this anymore!" You screamed, while you lost your calm demeanor. Throwing a tantrum around Levi, criticizing him at the same time, wasn't the best idea, you'll admit. The Captain angrily shut you up and squeezed your arm under his tight grip. He felt pissed, angry way beyond your pathetic imagination.

"If you don't get better you will die. I can’t always be there to save your sorry ass Cadet." He was aggressive and shook your body. 

"Then don't! I'm a soldier, it would be an honor to die for your cause." It was the first time he had violently touched you; the back of his hand smacking against your skin. His squad held their breaths in shock and didn't know how to react to his outburst. It wasn't unusual for Levi to get physical with people that misbehaved, but with you it was something else. Never did he lay his hands on you, except in training of course. You were quiet, other than the quiet whimpers that left your lips. It urged him to do worse. 

"Are you dense? You stupid brat don't even know what it means to die in honor. You should have stayed in Mitras with that attitude. I'm in no need of suicidal soldiers." You started crying at this point, shaking under his hands. He felt adrenaline shot into his abdomen, a nice tingle made his member slightly twitch at the sight of you. 

"Then why did you choose me?" He was close to hitting you again, his hand bawling into a fist; knuckles shining white. 

"Meet me in an hour in my office. Clean yourself up, you smell." With that he let you go and walked past his squat, eyebrows furrowing as Petra ran to your side, offering comfort. You didn't deserve that; he thought and shook his head in anger. The two of you were too soft. 

After that you dressed in your fresh formal-uniform and brushed your wet hair behind your ears, trying to appear as neat and dolled up as always, a habit that stuck with you ever since you were a little girl. Your parents made sure that your appearance would match your status as a wealthy Mitras girl. You hated it there, felt trapped and lonely. Some things that were taught to you stayed with you though, like taking good care of your body, always keeping your stuff clean or being polite. Of course, you learned to obey others, especially men, too. They prepared you to be a good wife. It scared you, made you feel sick; the thought of marrying a stranger gave you anxiety. It's why you decided to leave and enlisted in the Training Corps, making your parents disappointed. You felt guilty, as much as you do now. You displeased your Captain, the one you looked up to, the one that makes you eager to submit. You would do anything and perhaps, tonight you will. 

Those thoughts cross your mind as you stand in front of his office and private quarters. The upper ranks really have nice privileges. Your heart pounds against your chest, as you softly knock on the wood. Footsteps emerge as you fitch with the hem of your dress shirt. The door creaks open, revealing your Captain to you. He takes a step to the side, offering you access to his office with a spread arm. You don't look at him when you enter, head hanging low, and eyes fixed on the ground. Your punishment might be a severe one, probably physical discipline. He did punish you twice, made you run around the headquarters for three hours or leave out all the meals once. But this time is going to be much worse, and you know it's the way he looks at you that makes you question his sanity. You should feel ashamed of that. 

"You know Cadet, I could tell that you were on edge as of lately." He starts and takes a seat, making you stand opposite of his desk. 

"And I get it, we all are." He places his slender hands on the wooden surface, the same hands that caused you pain an hour ago. 

"But raising your voice against your Captain? Arguing with him, with me-“ he scoffs leaning forward.

"Now that's disrespectful on a new level. What happened? Did I finally break my favorite toy?" Levi mocks, a sinister expression on his usual stoic face. The last sentence got to you, eyes widening, a little displeased groan escapes you, eyebrows furrowing at the insult. Though, instead of sharing your discomfort with him, you simply answer: "Sorry Captain. It won't happen again." At that he rolls his eyes, shaking his head disappointed. 

"That did not answer my question. Did I break you yet, Cadet?" You wonder if the thought of emotionally dragging you down would please him. It would make sense, he always did show sadistic tendencies around you, bombing you with dehumanizing duties. You agreed to do them with a smile, hoping it would please him and it did. Now you wonder if it just egged him on to be much harsher with you. 

"I was close." You confess and fold your hands in your front, blankly returning his gaze. 

"Good. I hope you know why I'm pushing you harder than the others." His tongue slightly brushes over his dry lips, as he locks his steel-colored eyes on your form. You take a moment to think and hesitantly speak up after a few seconds. 

"I believe it's because I'm not as good as the others." A small smile spreads over his lips as he stands up again. You never saw him smile; it slightly starts to weird you out.

"Correct. You would die out there, I can't have that." Levi walks up to you in a slow pace, his relaxed state dominating the room. You swallow, taking a step back as he closes in. 

"Captain? May I ask why you can't have me dying?" A sight leaves him, as he places a hard on your shoulder, stopping you from moving. 

"Aren't you a nosey girl?" Your Captain states and places his other hand on your other shoulder as well. A bit of panic rises in your gut at the touch. The Captain was never one to show affection and this strange touch simply can't mean anything good. 

"Why did you order me here?" The question lingers in the air like a heavy prayer, making Levi's hands grip your delicate shoulders tighter. 

"Tch. Want me to show you?" He's seconds away from doing something stupid and both of you know it. 

"Yes, please." You murmur and break the contact of your stare, allowing him full authority. With excitement his hands glide from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer. He leans to the level of your ear, warm breath and the sudden closeness making you stiffen.

"What I'm going to show you is either a reward-" you feel his hands softly roam your curves, making you start shaking at the feeling it provides you. Not sure if it is desperation or despair, you let quiet whines out, encouraging him to grip your bum. 

"-or a punishment." You yelp as the same hand that caressed you moments ago gave your behind a harsh slap. Biting down onto your lip, you try to push him away from you to no use. He doesn't even buckle under your weak attempts.

"It's going to be up to you, silly Cadet." He whispers and slowly starts to move his head down your neck, placing tingling kisses at your vulnerable areas. Denying that his hands and lips feel pleasurable on your body would be a lie. It feels good, adrenaline rises in your gut as you think about how wrong this is. Superior ranks to yours shouldn't use you the way he does, after all you could report him for his inappropriate behaviors. Though it probably won't be to any good use, because Commander Erwin closed his eyes to the strange relationship of yours months ago. You know that most of the upper ranks suspect something between the two of you and yet nobody came to your help so far, because they don't want to anger Captain Levi. 

At some point you are a mess; cheeks flushed, heart beating rapidly, and your flesh is painted in bite marks. His hands hold you up and keep you from falling into his erratic body.

"Captain-" you wince and grip him weakly against your heated form, allowing even more contact between the two of you. 

"Hm?" He hums and lets his hand wander between your legs, making your posture stiffen. 

"This is wrong Captain, please-" you finish your sentence with a moan as his fingers dance circles around your clit, a wonderful sensation erecting in your abdomen.

"Shut up, it is not." He insists and slowly takes a few steps forward, making you stumble back at the unexpected movement. The both of you crash against his table and with a swift motion it's empty, papers and pens landing on the floor. He quickly makes use of your shocked self and pushes you down onto it, hour back connecting with the hardwood. A sound of pain rings through the room and it takes you a while to register what's happening. Levi presses your body down with his, his heavy breathing catches your attention and the next thing you notice is something hard against your thigh. At first you thought it was his hip bone, but after he starts rubbing it against you realization hits you. Feeling yourself blushing furiously, heat spreads through your stomach like a wildfire. You try to push him away, brushing his hand from you, which only causes him to grind harder against you. 

"No," you whine as he bites your earlobe. "Levi stop!" Your voice sounds muffled, a few tears run down your hot cheeks. He stills for a moment before resuming. Your hips arch upwards, pushing into his hardened length. He groans, mouth wide open while his eyes are squeezed shut. Moving his head from your shoulder to rest his face right below your ear, he whispers:

"You are to call me Captain, Cadet." His breath is warm against your neck, the rough sound of his deep voice sends shivers down your spine, and you let out a whimper that sounds like a plea. He smirks slightly, enclosing his hand around your throat. 

"And I'm calling you mine." He decides and opens your dress shirt, exposing your bodice and skin underneath. In a matter of a minute, you wrinkle completely naked underneath him; plank panic written on your face. He on the other hand is completely dressed, only making the effort to loosen the first two buttons of his shirt. His cravat is placed in your mouth to make you shut up and he observes you with dark eyes, while he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows. 

"You look so beautiful." He whispers and brushes over your cheek, wetting his thumb with your salty tears. His pupils are blown as he slowly fitches with his pants, pulling out his member to the cool air. 

"Please-" you cry out, not sure if you want him to continue or to stop. He looks good that way; black hair falling into his pale face and his posture hovering over your vulnerable form. 

"No, I deserve you this way." He breathes out and leans down.

"You are my subordinate, my soldier. Mine." He groans and starts to slowly rub circles between your already wet folds. 

"Ever since you joined the Scouts you have been nothing but submissive-" He trails off and enters you with his finger, making you whimper. 

Levi thrusts even harder and throws his head back until a deep growl rings through your ears and you feel him twitch. For a moment he thought about coming inside of you, impregnating you so you wouldn't have to attend the expeditions anymore. Eventually he decides against it, the risks of getting into serious trouble are too high. He watches as hot strings of his semen trip onto your lower bell, his face twisting in disgust. He grabs for a napkin in his pant pockets and cleans himself and your skin, making sure that not one single drop is left. He ever so slightly looks at you, trying to read your reaction. Are you scared? Pleased? He can't tell. 

"But I guess people can change, hugh?" He pulls out and leads his finger to his lips, greedily tasting you. Closing your eyes in shame, you bit down on the cloth between your lips, feeling the dip of something hot press against your entrance. You can't hold back your cry when he slides it inside you, stretching you open to take all you are willing to give. His pace increases slightly after he waited for a minute so you could adjust. His hands run through your hair, tugging at any loose strands. Your heart races and your hands ball into fists as you try your best to ignore the burning pain you are in. Levi doesn't stop once. With an angry grunt he slams himself inside and you moan loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist, digging your nails into his broad shoulders. The cloth in your mouths loosens and you take the opportunity, spitting it out.

"Captain. Please-" You cry as you feel your nails digging into his flesh, breaking his pure skin easily. The harsh movements of his hips slowly start to feel enjoyable, the slapping sound of skin ringing in your ears.

"I knew I liked you better when you were quiet." He breathes as he thrusts in and out of you, faster than before. When you thought about your first time it certainly didn’t cross your mind that it would be like this; rough and full hatred. Not understanding why, you would feel pleasure with the way he treats you, you close your eyes and let the sensation wash over you. Your body shakes with each stroke of his cock and your hands start to tremble. A sudden orgasm washes over you and you scream his name, letting it flow free through your clenched teeth. He growls low in his throat when he watches how your hips jerk up towards him. 

You breathe flatly, your back hurting from the hard surface underneath you. Your classy eyes watch the dancing flames of the chandelier above you with interest. You feel exhausted and lightheaded, the feeling of being empty again is weird. The sensation of your climax still lingering in your abdomen. 

"Sit up Cadet." Your Captain demands and helps you into an upright position. 

"Dress. Then help me with those reports." He gestures at the floor, while fixing his shirt, trying to appear not too casual. 

"Yes Captain." You obey his comment, collecting your uniform and undergarments that has been spread around his table. You notice his eyes on your naked body, making you feel uncomfortable. 

"Cadet." He catches your attention as your eyes meet. 

"You don't tell anyone about this. And don't even get the idea of spreading your legs for anyone but me." Levi demands in a grumpy manner. You glance at him, shocked and offended. Never would you dare to do this with any other person. 

"Oi! Do you understand that brat?" ‘

"Yes Captain Levi."

[the-sinful-voice-witch]

HUMANS in the SONIC UNIVERSE

Why some of them work and why others are hated? This is my personal opinion about it:

The issue here I think is normally the most hated humans are the ones who take too much pointless screentime as if wanting to share the spotlight with the actual protagonists, in this case we have little furry cute creatures with powers so obviously what we want to see the most is those characters and not the humans being humans 😂 if you know what I mean, nonetheless there are humans that have a importance in the plot and they aren't as hated 🤔, we have to think first which is the role the human has, second if its a role still ongoing or already fulfilled and third we have to decide if that role is really that important to justify the screentime and also if these humans are charismatic or not.

With this factors in mind let's analyze the humans in the Sonic universe:

Eggman: His role is to be the principal bad guy, the ongoing antagonist, the villain to fight so obviously every second of his screentime is justify. Not to mention his movie version made him even more funny and charismatic thanks to Jim Carrey. A crazy scientist with the ability to create deadly machines, and has a funny back and forth with Sonic, no one can question his existence in the Sonic universe, he is literally the most tolerated human.

Gerald Robotnik: His role is the same as his grandson but he is a one time villain, in the videogame he was dead but he set up a monster weapon capable of destroying earth as a revenge for Maria's death. In the movie he is alive and gets to meet his grandson and he is even more vicious and evil as he even emotionally manipulated his grandson and dismissed him as not as important as Maria but again is still a one time villain, he's done, he fulfilled his role perfectly.

María: she is a wonderful sweet character but unfortunately her role was meant to be tragic and that tragedy had the purpose of causing Shadow's character growth, she was someone really important to Shadow, his big sister figure, probably the very first person he loved and when he lost her the beginning of his chain of choices and actions was set on motion only to change in the last moments when he finally remembers what where her last words and last wish for him, after Shadow fulfilled this wish her purpose in the Sonic universe was finally done. In the movies she didn't even get to have some last words for Shadow but one of the conversations she had with him was key for his change of mind in the end. So her human existence was importan and meaningful her screentime was deserved and honestly I wish she could have had more 😢

G.U.N: these guys in general don't take too much screentime, I mean they're kind of a background problem to deal with, they were only important in the movies, SA2 and Shadow the hedgehog games and Sonic X and still didn't have enough spotlight for people to be annoyed with them besides when you read G.U.N you immediately think of Rouge the bat anyway 😂.

Elise: oh girl, she... Technically she was important, I mean Elise had a purpose and a role in that cursed game but... Aside the whole issue of that game being... just horrible with uncanny valley effect animation and glitches and messed up story, she was too flat and obviously that cringe out of nowhere romance she had with Sonic didn't help... Her purpose was to hold an evil entity... be traumatized with Sonic's death... And revive him with a kiss 😬😬😬. Seriously I don't think I really need to explain anything else, the only good thing that came out of that game was my son Silver and Blaze and everything else almost everyone agrees we should forget that ever happened 🫥🫥 and Elise never existed either.

Chris: The dislike on this human character was 100% justified. This character was created in Sonic X as Sonic's human companion to supposedly make kids have a character they could relate to, with a design that is a copy of Sora from kingdom hearts and the biggest issue in my opinion was that he has the same role Tails have as Sonic's tag along sidekick kid (Ironically Tails took the role Chris should have had with his grandpa given that he grew up to be a scientist like him) with the addition of not being too useful and being a complete flat character that only shows proper facial expressions when is time to be emotional but he was just so BORING, he was the only human character that had a terrible lack of charisma🤦‍♀️, seriously: Topaz, Chuck, Mr Tanaka, Ella, the teacher that was an undercover spy and Chris' friends especially Helen were more charismatic and had more personality than Chris himself. They tried to give him some dramatic dept, portraying him as the classic rich kid who has depression because his parents leave him at home at the care of the housekeeper, the butler and the grandpa but they portrayed this very shallowly and carelessly, like it was the cheapest, easiest way to make us be sympathetic of him and understand his obsession with being Sonic's human best friend. He felt too clingy for a character so bland, his classmate Helen had a lot more chemistry with Sonic in one episode than he ever had with Chris in the whole series, with Helen the dramatic part would have been a lot better, imagine the bittersweet bond between the fastest creature alive that loves to run free around the world and a girl that can only dream about that because she is on a wheelchair 🥲. But the very proof of how forced he was is the dramatic scene he made with Shadow stealing Amy's moment, that itself felt like they were desperate to prove this kid existence was important and useful 🙄🤦‍♀️, he basically took Amy and Tails' roles and which is stupid since Amy and Tails were there! 💁‍♀️

Tom and Maddie: Well here comes the humans that were received completely different than Chris 😂. Alright, first of all we have to acknowledge how they gradually are reducing their screentime as the number of furry alien characters increase because by the third movie they technically fulfilled their roles and is time to let the Sonic team have their adventures by themselves. Now why this couple (specifically Tom) weren't as hated as Chris or Elise were? Personally I think because the role they have which is "Sonic's adoptive parents" works a lot better than Sonic's "best friend tag along human kid" who feels redundant because that's Tails' role but in fox and Sonic's "human love interest" because that's Amy's role but in female hedgehog 🤷‍♀️, Sonic himself had always been a young teenager to begin with and in the movies he could always run free everywhere but always alone, completely alone... He wanted a family and he specifically wanted Tom and Maddie who unlike the typical cliché of maybe having a drama between them that Sonic would fix 🙄 they were a happy marriage that actually helped improve Sonic's life by including him in their already happy life, also this dynamic works because movie Sonic has a personality that is compatible with them, unlike the Sonic from Sonic X that had little to none chemistry at all with Chris. So the first movie is the introduction, Sonic getting to meet them properly and becoming family, then the sequel portrayed Tom as a worried dad that wants his kid to have friends to hang out and so his screentime is reduced to give it to Knuckles and Tails so the family gets bigger and then in the third movie the primary colors trio is an already established team who fight like heroes while they have a home to return, Tom and Maddie assisted in a mission and Tom was used as a trigger to Sonic's character grow along with Shadow but obviously they are less and less needed because their role as "being the home Sonic returns to after going on adventures" is already fulfilled so next time I suppose they will have the fair amount of screentime only to tease Sonic about meeting a girl hedgehog 😂😂 and just do family moments towards the end. They aren't intrusive in the Sonic's lore and that's why they aren't hated.

Wade: on the movies he is simply a goofy guy, he doesn't have a lot of screentime but the little he has is worthy, he is just so funny when he interacts with the furros and well... The series was fun, I mean the knuckles series is just about knuckles and was not based on any videogame and was pure comedy so I guess he isn't technically being intrusive, his purpose is just make the "fun silly guy say something random" moment.

Agent Stone: this guy is the best seriously, he gets to be a welcomed human in Sonic universe thanks to his hilarious gay simp relationship with Eggman 👌👌 but really, this man honestly deserved better. He not only didn't steal any Eggman's screentime, he improved it! His dynamic with him is a lot more entertaining than with any of his goofy dumb robots servants. Is ironic right? We dislike Chris as Sonic's sidekick because we prefer a cute fox sidekick over a human kid but for Dr Eggman's minion we prefer this simp gay mess over his classic clumsy robots 😂😂, Agent Stone is an icon.

Rachel and company: and the last... Honestly, her purpose is "the loud relative that doesn't approve the husband of the couple that adopts Sonic and has a daughter that gives Sonic his iconic shoes", then she married a G.U.N agent, we could have lived without those wedding scenes but... The full premise of the games the sequel was based off was fulfilled, she might be bothersome but not too much she is funny like Wade and like all the humans in the movies they are disappearing from the movies, who knows if they will even appear at the next ones.

And that's all, what do you think about it? Anyway I can't wait to see my girl Amy in the next movie and I very much hope she has more screentime than any human that doesn't have a hammer and isn't pink! 😂😂