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tenebraevesper · 1 year ago

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Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged, Night 12: Just An Attraction

''They left you in charge, but in here I call the shots. Tonight, you're staying with a monster in the dark. So, go check your screens, play sounds or scream. You're just an attraction in my amusement park!''

– Just An Attraction by TryHardNinja (Five Nights at Freddy's 3)

xXxXxXx

Sam was standing in front of the mirror in her room, holding her injured arm up and looking at it as if it was some kind of accessory. She looked at it curiously, then sighed, making an annoyed look, her fingers hovering over the bandages, but she quickly pulled them back. Her arm felt a little sore, but it didn't hurt her. Instead, she was faced with a different problem, wanting to take the bandages off because it felt a little itchy. She knew it was just her skin growing back and that it would probably take a week for her injuries to fully heal, but still, she wanted to scratch her arm. On the other hand, it didn't really look that bad on her arm. It made her feel like an character from an anime that revolved around fighting.

''It doesn't look that bad,'' she said, turning to Springtrap, who was sitting on her bed. He still had that look of guilt, feeling responsible for her injuries. Sam rolled her eyes. ''You know, I often used to come back home with bruises and small cuts I got from my urban explorations.''

''Have you ever gotten an injury that was as bad as this one?'' Springtrap asked.

''…No,'' Sam said sheepishly. Springtrap groaned, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. ''Springtrap, I have already told you that this one is my fault. I got careless.''

''If there's anyone who got careless, it was me,'' Springtrap replied, opening his eyes and looking at her. ''I was responsible for your safety.''

''Let's just agree on that we were both at fault for not being more careful,'' Sam suggested. ''I really don't want to argue about this and we have something else to worry about.''

''I am not looking forward to tomorrow,'' Springtrap said, giving Sam an anxious look. Emma had called them earlier to check on Sam, who didn't tell her about her injured arm, and confirming that she would be back tomorrow morning. The moment he heard her voice, he felt chills in every part of his animatronic body and human soul. He couldn't understand just how he could get so easily freaked out by Sam's mother. ''I told her I wouldn't let you get hurt and, well, you saw what happened.''

''Don't worry, I'll deal with Mum,'' Sam said. ''I think that she'd be more worried about the idea that you were the one who hurt me.''

''I wouldn't…'' Springtrap trailed off, suddenly remembering what happened the previous night and how he almost crushed her arm, even if it was an accident. He shook his head. ''No. I took responsibility for your safety and I told Emma that. Therefore, I'll deal with her tomorrow.''

''I hope you're ready for the Hell she's going to unleash on you,'' Sam said, with Springtrap giving her a horrified look. He buried his head into his hands, knowing full well that he wasn't ready to deal with Emma and her reaction to what happened. He then looked up as Sam sat next to him. ''Aw, com'n, you'll be fine.''

''I'm not convinced,'' he said in a deadpan tone, noticing Sam's worried look. He sighed. ''But, I guess I'll somehow manage it.'' This seemed to comfort her a little, but she still looked worried, so he figured he should change the topic. ''Anyways, do you have any kind of plan for today?''

''Not really,'' Sam said, pausing a little to think about it. She then smiled. ''Hey, I almost forgot! It's been a week since you arrived here.''

''Really? It feels like ages have passed and not a week,'' Springtrap said, surprised.

''Well, when we went to the Machinations Factory, it was Sunday, as well as Night 5,'' Sam said, counting on her fingers as she tried to make sure she did the correct calculation. ''If you go back five days and add one more,… yeah, I think I'm right.'' She then took out her phone. ''Yep, it's Tuesday.''

''It still feels like it's been much longer,'' Springtrap said.

''I guess that's because of all things that happened,'' Sam replied. ''Speaking of which, I wonder when Ricky's plans to hire a new night guard.''

''They don't need one next to those animatronics,'' Springtrap said, frowning. ''Considering their performance last night, I wouldn't be surprised if another bloody corpse is found at Ricky's.''

''At least last night wasn't a waste of time,'' Sam said. ''We know that there's a hidden room at Ricky's and that something is inside it.''

''The only problem is that we have no idea how to access it,'' Springtrap said dryly.

''We'll figure something out,'' Sam said, with Springtrap giving her a curious look. ''What's wrong?''

''It just surprises me how easily you have bounced back from what happened last night. You act as if your injury never happened.''

''Well, what should I do? Cry and whine about it until rays of Heaven shine down on me and an angel descends to comfort me?'' Sam asked sarcastically. She then grinned. ''Seriously, it takes a lot more to stop me from doing what I want.'' She was a little confused by the serious and hesitant look Springtrap gave her. ''Springtrap, what-''

''I just wondered what exactly would take it to stop you from getting yourself into trouble, although, I don't think either of us wants to know the answer,'' he said, with Sam falling silent. ''Besides, wasn't I the one who suggested we go visit that place?''

''Didn't we just talk about this already?''

''Sam, I simply want to say that you shouldn't be defending me the whole time,'' Springtrap replied.

''I'm not sure if you have noticed, but lately, the only person I've been defending you is from yourself,'' Sam replied. ''Or tell me that someone else is putting so much pressure on you that you're starting to see everything that goes wrong as being your fault for not trying harder to be a better person.''

''I told you that I'm sometimes having hallucinations that aren't part of my memories,'' Springtrap said, with Sam nodding. ''Whenever I have one of those hallucinations, I constantly hear a voice I cannot recognize. Whoever they are, they're trying their best to torment me as much as possible. It drives me crazy!''

''And they never told you why they're torturing you?'' Sam asked, feeling sorry for him.

''I guess they're doing it because of my past,'' Springtrap said, falling silent for a moment. ''Say, do you have any idea if there's a way to confirm that I am really talking to an entity rather than some kind of hallucination my own mind created?''

Sam shrugged, a bit thrown off by this question.

''Have you ever tried an Ouija Board?'' she suggested, smiling sheepishly when Springtrap gave her an Are you kidding me? look. ''Hey, I'm not an expert, but I really do want to help you. Try to think about what that entity told you, maybe there is a way to figure out who they are.''

''Honestly, I don't know,'' Springtrap replied. Sam frowned, feeling annoyed.

''I wish I had a word with that entity, so I could tell them my opinion,'' she said. Springtrap grinned.

''Considering your attitude, I doubt that they would want to confront you,'' he said. ''You'd probably shut them down in no time.''

''Exactly,'' Sam said in a confident tone.

''There is one more thing. The reason I asked you that question earlier wasn't because of that entity, but because during my hallucination, I somehow ended up talking to Henry,'' Springtrap explained, with Sam looking intrigued.

''What did he say?'' she asked.

''We've just been talking about what happened. He wasn't happy to see me and he was worried about you,'' Springtrap replied. ''I believe that he thinks that I'll end up going the same path as before, no matter what I do, and that you'll end up getting hurt because of me. Although, let's be honest, you did get hurt.''

''William…''

''Nevertheless, I still have no idea whether that was really Henry, or my mind was just messing with me,'' Springtrap added.

''What do you think?'' Sam asked in a sympathetic tone. Springtrap sighed.

''I'm not sure, as a part of me wishes that that was indeed just another delusion,'' he said. ''However, I do hope that it really was him.''

He noticed that Sam was smiling, but didn't understand why. Still, the look of sympathy on her expression was enough for him to calm down. He felt much better now that he had told her that. Sam then stood up, with Springtrap being a little unnerved by the sly grin she was giving him.

''So, ready for the madness?'' she asked. He frowned.

''What are you up to now?''

''You asked me whether I had a plan for today and I remembered that there was one place I wanted to visit,'' Sam explained. Springtrap had a bad feeling about this.

''What is that place?'' he asked.

''It's a secret,'' Sam said. ''I don't know whether I would be able to visit it again, so I thought that we could check on it.''

''Is there any chance that there's something dangerous?'' Springtrap asked. Sam looked a little hesitant, but then nodded.

''Well, it poses more danger to me than to you, but you'll understand what I mean once we get there,'' Sam said. Springtrap was a little unnerved by her calm attitude, fearing that she might get hurt again, especially since he had no idea where she wanted them to go or what might happen to them. Sam noticed this. ''Please, calm down a little. Seriously, if there's something that you should stress about, it's having to deal with my mum.''

''Honestly, I really don't need any of this,'' Springtrap said. ''Besides, if you know that you might get hurt, perhaps it's better to not go.''

''I never said that I would get hurt,'' Sam said, crossing her arms. ''I just said that there is something dangerous. But, like said, you will understand once we're there.''

''If you say so,'' Springtrap said reluctantly.

xXx

''Disguised as a friend, but it's something that's sinister. Three decades of torment (breaks free), no longer a prisoner. Out for blood, out for blood, let's play a game! Cuts like a knife in the night, ooooh, wanna play?''

Springtrap looked anxiously through the window at the landscape, listening to the music on the radio, the song being Wanna Play – TryHardNinja (Child's Play). His ears were twitching, as he wondered where Sam was driving them. She was unusually silent during the whole ride.

''Bring the blade, a brand new start, a deadly game. Are you afraid? He is toying with your mind, can you escape? Wanna play? Do you wanna, do you wanna, do you wanna, wanna play?''

Sam was humming along with the music, seemingly relaxed. Springtrap wished that he was just as calm as her, but he just couldn't relax. He felt tense, as if something bad was going to happen if he asked anything. He was completely stressed out and just wanted to get over it.

As he stared out through the window, he felt that something was bugging him. Somehow, the more and more he looked, the more familiar the landscape became. However, he couldn't remember why it was so familiar.

Then, there was a flash of fire in front of his eyes, static briefly covering his vision. Instead of freaking him out, he felt a little confused.

No, this isn't… Wait!

He shook his head, taking a closer look at the surroundings as Sam slowed the car down. Suddenly, he remembered where they were going and why this place was so familiar to him. However, he didn't say anything until Sam parked her car in a more secluded spot that couldn't be seen from the road and was also close to their location.

''I guess you have already figured out what I wanted to tell you, didn't you?'' Sam asked him as they got out and she locked the car.

''Smartass,'' Springtrap said in a deadpan tone. ''Yeah, I do understand what you wanted to tell me.''

Sam led him to a fence that had an opening in it, with both of them going inside the fenced area. The location seemed to be an abandoned amusement park. Bushes and weed were growing all over the place and there was trash at some of the rides. However, it still looked relatively new, so it seemed to have been abandoned recently.

''You know, you could've told me that you wanted to visit Fazbear's Fright,'' Springtrap told Sam. ''Or at least what was left of it.''

''I figured that it would've been better if I kept it as a secret. After all, there are some things you need to figure out on your own,'' Sam said, with Springtrap briefly stopping, having been reminded of what Henry told him. However, he quickly resumed, listening to Sam. ''You've been constantly telling me how you're a danger to me, so I figured out that the next logic step would be visiting this place. Now, you're the main attraction.''

''I see,'' Springtrap said, crossing his arms on his back. There was a faint purple glow in his eyes as he tried to figure out how to respond to Sam's action. However, he really had no idea what to do or say. She was indeed right, as he was the only person who posed a danger to her at this place, yet he didn't want to hurt her. In the end, he figured that there was no reason to argue with her and to go just along with whatever she had in mind. ''Fine. What do you want to do?''

Sam's expression lit up like a Christmas tree. She looked like she was finally in her element.

''It's kinda obvious, but I would like to see the horror attraction,'' she said. ''However, I thought we could also explore a little more of this amusement park. I haven't seen much of it when I came here before.''

''I am actually curious why this whole place had been abandoned,'' Springtrap said as they made their way towards the horror attraction. ''Fazbear's Fright was the only building that burned down.''

''Well, the problem was that it didn't really attract people. I guess that the horror attraction was supposed to draw more visitors, but after the fire, things kinda fell apart,'' Sam explained, going over to the nearest booth and looking over the counter. There was only broken glass, leaves and some trash, but she seemed to be satisfied. Springtrap guessed that it didn't matter what she found, but what she experienced. He followed her, while she led him to one attraction to another.

''It feels like a waste,'' he said as Sam examined an old merry-go-round. The paint on the horses was chipped and the wooden boards were rotten, one even having a hole. ''Perhaps it could've been rebuilt.''

''I guess no one wants to waste money on something that wouldn't make any profit,'' Sam replied.

''To be honest, Henry never really though about profit when we opened Fredbear's Family Diner,'' Springtrap told her as they made their way over to another building. ''All he wanted was to entertain people, both adults and children.''

''I think that that's a great idea,'' Sam said as they entered the building, which seemed to be some kind of mirror maze. However, most of the mirrors had been shattered and there was glass everywhere. None of them were going inside, although they did take a look at it, with the light of Sam's flashlight being reflected by all the mirror shards and looking like they walked into a night club. Sam lowered it down.

''I wonder just how many years of bad luck someone would get with so many broken mirrors,'' Springtrap said. Sam then pointed at a graffiti next to them.

''Seems like someone did the math,'' she said. ''About 140 years of bad luck.''

She then giggled as they read the writing beneath it, with Springtrap also feeling amused.

Dude, NOOOO!!!

I'll have bad luck in the afterlife!

The rest of it was followed by some well-chosen curse words and some unknown symbols. The two then left, passing a small rollercoaster made for little children. Sam was tall enough to climb on it, but looking at the rusty tracks, she decided against it. As they walked around, Springtrap felt more and more relaxed, knowing that they were simply enjoying themselves. There was no one else around either, so they could just mess around and have fun.

Sam at some point managed to jump over the counter of a booth, which seemed to have housed some kind of shooting game, although the guns and targets had been ripped away, and looked back at Springtrap.

''So, do you want to play a game?'' she asked. He leaned against the counter, pointing at the holes in it.

''I'd love to, but you lack the necessary tools,'' he said. Sam giggled and jumped over the counter. ''I see why love urban exploration. As you said, you get to explore abandoned places and learn old stories or make new ones.''

''Exactly,'' Sam said. ''To be honest, none of my former friends was interested in this, and those who were would quickly run away once they realized what exactly they were getting themselves into. I wouldn't say that this isn't dangerous, and I would not explore places I knew for certain I could get seriously injured in, but they needed to live a little instead of staring at their phones or tablets and gossiping about other people.''

''Did they abandon you at some point?'' Springtrap asked curiously. Sam looked crestfallen.

''They did,'' she said. ''I convinced them that we could check out an abandoned asylum and they agreed to come with me. One of my former friend's older brother agreed to drive us there and would stick around until we had our fun. However, as we entered the building, someone suggested that we separate and explore each part of the building. I was left alone and, to be honest, I didn't mind it, as I felt I could be quicker with my exploration that way. However, when I returned to where we agreed to meet, no one was there.''

''Don't tell me…'' Springtrap's eyes widened and flared purple. He frowned.

''I waited for them for a while, but as it was getting darker, I realized that I was stranded alone near a town an hour or two away from my home,'' Sam sighed. ''Luckily, I had money for an Uber, who agreed to drive me back, especially after he found out about what happened and he even felt sorry for me, telling me how he wouldn't charge me the full price. I was angry at my friends, but they told me that they searched for me, but couldn't find me and thought that I had already left. They also told me that their phones weren't working when I attempted to reach them. Me, being a naive idiot, believed them.''

''That's disgusting,'' Springtrap said. ''Honestly, I would really like to have a little chat with your former friends and tell them what exactly I think of their actions.''

''Forget them,'' Sam replied. ''I don't care about them anymore and if they asked me for help, I would just tell them that they don't deserve it after what they did to me.''

Springtrap noticed that she continued looking around, but this time with less enthusiasm. However, it soon returned once they reached Fazbear's Fright. It was clear that, while people went inside, nobody bothered to clean the rubble in front of it. The side of the building had collapsed, exposing an air vent and a hallway and overall, it didn't look safe. Surprisingly, different than the other buildings and attractions, this one wasn't vandalised.

Springtrap could still remember the fire at Fazbear's Fright. It caught him off guard as he was trying to reach the office. The flames were licking the walls, burning down everything they reached. He had been lost in the maze of fire and smoke, but he still continued, eventually finding his way out through the office. He was stunned that Henry was capable of setting up something like this.

''Do you think that there is a way to enter it?'' Sam asked, looking at the entrance, that looked half-collapsed.

''You really want to get yourself killed, right?'' Springtrap told her sarcastically.

''I didn't mean to explore it. I know that the building might collapse, but I just wanted to see a bit of what's inside,'' Sam said.

''Well, there's that,'' Springtrap pointed at the wall on the side that had collapsed. Sam went over to it, looking at the uncovered hallway. It was black and burnt and there was rubble blocking a part of it, along with the air vent.

''To be honest, it is still incredible to imagine that you really went through this place in order to get Henry,'' Sam said, glancing at Springtrap. He noticed that she looked quite excited as she peered into the hallway, probably trying to figure out what part of the building this one had been. As they went around the building towards where the exit and the office was, Springtrap realized something. He hoped that it would work.

''Sam, could you wait here?'' he asked, pointing at the exit. ''I'll just go check inside to see whether it's safe. If I'm right, you may see this part of the building for yourself.''

Sam's eyes widened in excitement, with Springtrap feeling happy about it. He then checked the entrance, noticing that it was actually stronger than he anticipated, and entered the hallway. So far, it seemed to be safe. He then walked back outside and beckoned Sam to enter.

He could swear that Sam looked like a kid in a candy store when she entered the office. Her eyes were wide and she looked awed to be inside the horror attraction. Sure, the office was burnt from the fire and there was trash and rubble, but it seemed to have been in a better shape than the rest of the building. Sam quickly walked over to the air vent in the side of the office, crouching and illuminating it with her flashlight. She noticed that it had been blocked off by a piece of metal at the very end. She then stood up, noticing that the maintenance panels were missing, with the cables still hanging out. However, the chair Henry used to sit in was on the floor, albeit burnt and too damaged to be used. Nevertheless, she was still happy to be inside, at least until she realized something.

''Springtrap?''

Confused, she looked around. For some reason, the animatronic had been missing. Then, she looked back at where the monitors were, only to be startled when she saw the bunny looking at her from the other side of where the glass panel used to be. It was broken during the fire and there were some glass shards on the floor, so Springtrap could easily reach over and grab her.

''You scared me!'' she yelled at him, but didn't look really angry at him.

''And what else did you expect? This is a horror attraction,'' Springtrap replied. Sam had to agree with him. ''Of course, I'm the one calling the shots.''

''True,'' Sam said. ''To be honest, I'm still a little salty it didn't open, but I understand that there was a good reason for not letting the attraction open for the public.''

''At least you can say that you have indeed visited the attraction,'' Springtrap told her as she walked out of the office and joined him in the hallway. She pointed the flashlight at the rest of it, but after noticing an uncovered beam and more exposed wires, she decided to not go deeper inside.

''We should get out,'' she told Springtrap, who nodded. He stopped when he heard a clicking sound, followed by a flashing light, and saw Sam on her phone, having taken a photo of the office. She grinned slyly, shrugging.

''Hey, if they tear it down or if it falls apart, I want to at least have a photo of what it looked like after the fire,'' she told him.

''I'm not judging you,'' Springtrap replied as they walked outside. ''If you want to take more photos, go ahead.''

''No, I'm fine with this one,'' Sam shook her head. ''You know, some people make a video of their urban exploration. I just take a photo or two of what I discovered.''

''So, should we go back to the car?'' Springtrap asked. ''Or do you want to explore the rest of the place? It's your decision.''

''Well…'' Sam trailed off as they suddenly heard something that ruined her mood.

There were voices, multiple of them, and they were coming from the entrance. Sam and Springtrap hid behind the horror attraction, observing several people holding their phones and a bag with cans of beer. They seemed to be teenagers, two girls and three boys, all around Sam's age, if not a little older. They were talking loudly, one of the boys messing with a girl, who cried out and laughed in a high-pitched voice. One of the boys was holding a piece of metal, swinging it around like a baseball bat and acting as if he would hit his comrades, but instead hit the nearest booth, damaging the counter and causing everyone to burst out laughing.

''So much about having fun,'' Sam muttered, frowning. Springtrap felt bad for her, as he hoped that she could enjoy herself a little more. Instead, their little adventure was over. ''I just hope they haven't seen my car.''

''I don't think they did, else they'd be looking around for someone,'' Springtrap told her. However, looking at the teens, they seemed to be drunk enough to not care about the possibility of someone being here. They were here to have a party and cause a mess, not having to worry that they would be caught. ''Do you know them?''

''No,'' Sam replied, feeling annoyed. Urban exploration wasn't about damaging or vandalising abandoned places and she felt that such behavior sucked all the fun from the activity. ''But, I don't care. I think we should go home. I don't want to deal with them.''

''Wait.'' Sam looked at Springtrap, whose eyes were now glowing purple. ''Actually, we could stay a little longer and show them that they're not exactly welcome here.''

Sam tilted her head, then grinned as she realized what he meant and nodded.

xXx

''Smash it! Smash it!''

The two girls and boys were chanting, encouraging their third member as he attempted to break the glass panel on the booth. They cheered when it broke and started to pile their empty beer cans on the counter. One of the boys took the pipe from his friend and attempted to knock down the beer cans, only to miss. The rest laughed at him, while he cursed. He then threw the pipe away, cracking open another can of beer and lifting it up as if toasting.

''So, what do you want to do next?'' he asked them.

''How about that haunted house or whatever it is?'' one of the girls suggested.

''You mean the one that had been burned down?'' one of the boys asked her, with her nodding.

''Do you guys think that we could make a building-sized bonfire out of it?'' another boy asked, flicking a lighter.

''Dude, that's crazy! What if we get caught?'' the boy with the can of beer said, staring at his friend.

''Who cares? It was already burned down,'' his friend replied.

Suddenly, they heard a cracking sound, as if a branch broke. They almost jumped out of their skin, looking around.

''What was that?!'' the other girl in the group asked.

''No idea-''

''What if there are homeless people here?''

''What?!''

''Shhh, be quiet!''

They suddenly heard more sounds. Something cracked again and there was a sound of shattering.

''Dude, dude, someone's here!'' One of the boys grabbed the guy with the lighter, who shook his head.

''It's probably some kind of animal.''

''I want to go home!'' one of the girls cried. The guy with the lighter turned to her, glaring at her.

''Shut up!'' he hissed. ''There is nothing there!''

''Wh-'' He noticed her frightened expression. ''What's that?!''

As he turned around, he saw a figure in the dark. He and another boy were the only ones with flashlights on their phones, as everyone else had a dead battery. As he looked down, he noticed that the light on his smartphone suddenly turned off. They were now in complete darkness, the place being illuminated by the stars and the moon.

The figure, which was much taller than them, moved closer. They could see that it wasn't a human and that it's eyes were glowing purple. They were frozen in their spots, only to scream when they heard a terrifying shriek, a sound that was completely inhuman.

Somehow, they broke free and ran towards the entrance, cursing and crying as they attempted to enter the car. One of the boys fumbled with his keys, letting them fall out of his hands and had to search for them.

''Idiot!''

''Hurry up!''

He managed to find them and quickly unlocked the car, with all of them getting inside as he turned the car on.

''What the hell was that?!'' one of the girls asked.

''Who cares?! Drive!'' the boy who sat in the passenger seat yelled at the driver.

''I can't! Something's blocking it!'' his friend shouted frantically as he felt the car hitting something. One of the girls quickly got outside, her jaw dropping as she saw heavy stones put behind the tires.

''What the-?!''

The rest of them exited the car, staring at the stones in disbelief. Suddenly, they heard sirens, with a police car pulling behind their car and all of them freaking out as two officers approached them, being obviously unhappy with what they found.

However, none of them noticed a car on the road driving past them.

xXx

''…Reincarnated fear, integrated, grated; True hatred never dies. It just waits – Wanna play?''

''You know, driving while drunk is never a good idea,'' Sam said, grinning in satisfaction. ''I think I might've prevented them from getting into a car crash or driving off the road.''

''Aside from driving while drunk, they also looked about your age, so I would add underage drinking to the list, as well as trespassing, littering and vandalism,'' Springtrap said, having a smug expression. ''Maybe the police will have some additional charges, who knows?''

''You know, I didn't think it would be this kind of revenge, but I'm really glad about how things went down,'' Sam said. ''Aside from their appearance, the exploration was really awesome!''

''I'm glad about that. You deserve to have some fun without having to worry about anyone leaving you behind,'' Springtrap told her.

''I'm really happy that you're here,'' Sam replied. Springtrap felt quite content with what he had achieved. However, he looked crestfallen as he glanced at Sam's injured arm and thought about Emma.

What am I supposed to tell her?

''William?''

''Yes?'' Springtrap glanced at Sam, who gave him an assuring smile, knowing well what was bothering him.

''Don't worry, we'll figure something out,'' she said.

Springtrap nodded, hoping that she was right.

xXx

''Oh, hello? I'm sorry, I thought this was the break room.''

A woman in her early 20s looked flustered when she entered the room with the costumes, with her co-worker, who was inside it, shrugging.

''Don't worry, it's not like there's anything to be seen here,'' he told her. ''Just a few suits and masks.''

''So, you're the guy who takes care of the animatronics?'' she asked. The man nodded, observing her curiously. ''I'm sorry, I'm new here, so I don't know everyone's names. My name is Bella Curtis, by the way.''

''Nice to meet you, Bella,'' the man said, shaking her hand. ''I'm Connor Davis and, as you assumed, I'm Ricky's actor.''

''Cool! I always wondered who is underneath that mask,'' Bella said.

''I'm the main attraction as long as I have the mask on,'' Connor said, grinning. ''After I take it off, well, there is nothing remarkable about me.''

That is, unless you count my little project.

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#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story #Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #william afton #springtrap #fnaf 3 #five nights at freddy's 3

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years ago

Text

Church (Choi San) Rated

Pairing: Choi San × Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, College AU, Friends to Enemies(?), Enemies to Lovers (?)

Summary: He used to be her best friend until he abandoned not only his childhood beliefs, but her in the process. One night, he decides to show her a glimpse of what she's been missing out on. Inspired by Chase Atlantic's Church .

Word Count: 6.3+K

Warnings: Mentions of religious beliefs, brazen college parties, allusions to alcohol/nicotine intake, body insecurity (reader has small breasts), oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, body worship/praise, slight cumplay, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (always use protection), slight corruption kink, inexperienced reader, experienced San. (Probably forgot something)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @brie02 @deja-vux @a-soft-hornytiny @multidreams-and-desires @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie

╬╬═════════════╬╬

The infamous rebel let out a pernicious snicker when he saw the serene and usually proper former acquaintance walk in his direction.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is that really the pastor's prissy little daughter out past her bedtime in a college party?" He found the situation much too amusing that he just had to point it out.

"I have a name you know." The female he was referring to halted in her steps to turn her head and give him an unkind and unfriendly look.

"You have several, actually. There's goody two shoes, priss, prude, prig-"

"Oh shut the fuck up Choi San." She scoffed as she began walking away from him, already feeling annoyed by his presence.

The man trailed after her, his face donning a shocked expression as he flailed his arms around in a dramatic way.

"Guys it's happening! The apocalypse is really here if L/N Y/N has not only attended a wild party full of debauchery, but her mouth has actually uttered out cursed words!" He shouted out, the other attendants either joining in laughing at her or ignoring him in favor of the bottles or sticks in their fingers.

"I'm surprised you even know what that word means." She turned to look at him with a mocking smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Please, I know a lot more than you have ever pretended to know." He clicked his tongue, elbow coming up to rest on the wall next to him.

"Is that why you turnt corrupt and abandoned everything you believe in?" She couldn't help but spat back at him.

"Hey at least I was honest and didn't hide it like you people who lead double lives. Preaching one thing but living the total opposite. You're all nothing but a bunch of hypocrites." The venom in his voice was unmistakable, nose scrunching up in disgust as he remembered gross sins he had more often than not had witnessed from people who claimed to be pure and holy.

"I do not lead a double life." She remarked.

"Oh really? Then why the hell are you here in a college party? Full of alcohol, drugs and walking STDs? Riddle me that princess." His foot tapped against the floor, patiently awaiting an answer from her.

Y/N swallowed the non existent lump in her throat and turned her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. Just once." She admitted begrudgingly, the man in front of her chuckling lowly.

"Well you sure are going to have a lot to confess on Sunday to your dad. Silly girl, walking into the lion's pit like this." He jeered at her.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Just because I came here doesn't mean I've done anything morally wrong." She counteracted his words to which he only snorted.

"Yet."

Tired of his overly obnoxious attitude, Y/N spun on her heel to get away from him, but she spun so carelessly and fast that she ended up bumping into another classmate who unfortunately was holding a full cup of beer that ended up being doused all over her white blouse.

"Oops! Sorry, my bad." He excused himself, looking completely unapologetic about the situation.

Meanwhile Y/N looked absolutely horrified as she took in the drenched state of her shirt that now had the stench of alcohol on it. The fact San was bursting out in giggles only served to make her even more mad.

"Now tell me how do you plan on explaining that to dear old-"

"Can it San or I swear I'll gauge your eyes out." She threatened him as she stormed out the building, not caring that she bumped into a few figures on her way out.

Feeling just a bit of empathy for his old friend, San sighed softly before following after her. Upon catching up to her, he took hold of her wrist and started dragging her in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Get your filthy hands off me! I will not hesitate to scream!" She tried tugging her arm away.

"Calm down I'm not planning on kidnapping or anything like that sweetheart. I'm taking you back to my car."

She let out a dry laugh at that.

"But that's not kidnapping?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a spare shirt in the backseat that you can change into. Unless you wanna go home smelling like PBR." He looked back to see the mess one more time, lips curling up into a smirk.

Against her better judgment, she allowed him to take her all the way where his car was parked, standing there quietly as San rummaged through the backseat before taking out a clean plain white tshirt and held it out to her.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked at him with a face that asked if he was stupid.

"Well what?" He asked.

"Oh yes..I'm totally going to strip in a middle of the street and let anyone passing by see." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh for fuck's sake, there's nobody here, nobody is going to see and frankly I don't think anyone cares about seeing your non existent boobs." He scorned at her as he gestured to her chest.

"Ok rude and uncalled for." She felt slightly hurt by his comment, having always been somewhat insecure about the size of her chest.

"Don't look." She warned him.

"Not like I want to." He jeered at her as he turned away to not only give her privacy, but to also serve as a lookout for anyone that might accidentally show up and see the scene. He could hear her behind him tearing off her clothes and then slipping it back on.

"Ok there. I'm done." Y/N announced as she stuffed the soiled shirt into her bag.

"Not even a thank you?" San pouted slightly, to which Y/N gave a feigned smile.

"Thanks."

With that said and done, she brushed past him and started walking away, absolutely done with the night.

"Careful not to get caught sneaking back inside your house." She heard San say from behind.

"For your information I'm not living with them anymore. I moved into the dorms 2 months ago." She stated in a matter of factly, a proud look on her face.

"Well in that case....want to ride back with me?" He offered.

"Yeah no, I'd rather take my chances at being kidnapped and then butchered up. Besides, I wouldn't want to cut your wild night short." She declined the offer.

"Stop being so negative Nancy and accept my generosity. Geez."

Running over to her, he quickly snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shocked exclaims and protests.

"Now this is really kidnapping!" She declared.

"Yeah I know, now shut up before I duct tape that bratty mouth of yours." San grinned mischievously as he tossed her into the backseat and shut the door before striding over to get on the driver's seat.

"Oh come on. Stop looking at me like I'm a criminal. Just because I indulge in a few sins every now and then, doesn't make me into a bad person." He stated when he saw the dirty look she gave him.

"Whatever." She muttered as she locked in her seatbelt.

San opted for just driving back to the dorms and get Y/N tucked in her bed since it was clear to him she needed it.

╬╬═════════════╬╬

"You're lucky my roommate is on vacation, otherwise I would have left your ass back there." Y/N spewed out as she threw her keys onto her dresser.

"Thanks Y/N, I always said you were the nicest and most giving person in the planet." San complimented her as he felt he should given she was letting him stay the night in her dorm after a little tiny incident with his keys dropping inside one of the manholes surrounding the university. And the administration office wouldn't be open til the morning, meaning he was screwed unless his roommate showed up to let him in, but that was a definite no since San knew Seonghwa would definitely end up in someone else's bed and come back til the next day, hickeys plastered all over his neck and chest.

"No, you always said I was the most stuck up-"

San shushed her by pressing a hand over her mouth.

"You dwell so much on the present image of me you drew up in your head that you completely erased the friend you had all those years ago." He slid his hand off her mouth, shoulders slumping down as he turned away from her to crouch on the floor.

"That friend doesn't exist anymore, that is if he even existed in the first place. If I recall, my friend wasn't into parties, booze, vaping, tattoos, piercings and fucking around with every whore in the school."

San didn't say anything as he heard her ramble, he just let her talk away as she started pulling out spare blankets and pillows for him to use.

"My Sannie was sweet, cute, adorable, always ready to lend people help and respectful to others." She reminisced with a sad look. Pulling her expression straight, she laid out the blankets and started arranging them neatly on the floor.

"I still am."

San's voice was so quiet that she barely registered that he even opened his mouth in the first place, but she heard him.

"Maybe if you weren't so puffed up with pride and didn't cut me off after I cut ties with the church, you'd see that I'm still the way I was. You think I changed completely because of ink and metal on my body? Because I wanted to try certain substances and yes, satisfy some perfectly normal and humane needs?"

Y/N averted her gaze from him and continued the task she was in. San let out a despondent scoff.

"Of course you do. And yet didn't I just demonstrate to you back there that I haven't changed? Giving you my shirt, giving you a ride, yeah I know, it's not much and no big deal, but wasn't those the types of things I'd do even back then?"

Y/N's tongue poked against her cheek as she knew she couldn't deny that was San said was absolutely true. He did nothing different back at the party as he used to do years ago. Helping old ladies with grocery bags, giving away some of his clothes to less fortunate kids, he was always known as being such a giving and kind person.....

No wonder so many were devastated when it was announced he had resigned as a member of the church. Y/N herself was hurt and even indignated by his decision. And after that she adamantly refused to see him or talk to him, and of course San respected her decision and avoided contacting her so as to not make her uncomfortable. He understood that their friendship was broken and he wasn't going to overstep boundaries just to try and fix it when the other party didn't want it. So he just decided to live his life as he thought was right without his conscience bothering him. And he was much happier now, he felt free, something that he had never felt before. Perhaps he was so chained down by formality, discipline, strict regulations and even fear that he didn't realize that he was miserable all that time until his eyes were fully open and he found he didn't like what he saw, especially after seeing the dark and ugly side of what was supposed to be a safe and pure sanctuary. He was let down severely and he suffered in the process. But now that was behind him and he had no regrets......

Except Y/N. He truly missed her and her company. As he laid on the makeshift bed on the floor, he found himself unable to sleep as he recalled all those fond times spent with her. The trips to the lake, hiking, first day of school, their first accident after he had gotten his driver's license. He let out an involuntary smile at that memory. Unbeknownst to him, the girl on her bed was equally reminiscing on the old days filled with her best friend. She had been so alone ever since she distanced herself from him, the world now feeling empty and cold without him. Shifting around in her bed, she whined into her pillow as she desperate tried to sleep.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Her question startled San momentarily.

"Are you that sleep deprived that you're suddenly asking me to confess my worst sins?" He chuckled amusedly.

"Maybe it'll help me get actual sleep, I don't know. And.... I'm just curious." She clutched one of her plushies and started messing around with it.

"Curiosity killed the cat and I don't think your virgin mind will be able to handle my confession." He asserted confidently.

"I'm not a virgin, but oh well. Just tell me, what's the worst?" Her casual response made San flip out. He sat upright and kneeled at the front of her bed with an incredulous look.

"What do you mean you're not a virgin? When did you-?" He was so flabbergasted he wouldn't even finish his sentence.

Rolling over to where he was, Y/N smirked at him.

"Uh uh. I asked you a question first and you have to answer it before I can answer any you want."

Knowing he had no alternative, San placed his chin on the top of her mattress.

"Had a threesome with 2 of our professors." He laughed when he saw how shocked Y/N looked.

"What?! No way!" She refused to believe him.

"It's true. I won't tell you who they were since you won't be able to look at them the same way if I did...... I'll just dish this: they both got really huge tits and it's a shame they're married." He admitted with a smug expression.

"I can't believe you." She fanned her face which she was sure was now a deep crimson color.

"Ok now your turn. When did this happen? Who was it with?"

Y/N didn't even mind that San got up and crawled into her bed to lay down next to her. His face was rested on his hands as he looked at her with intense inquisitiveness. Knowing she'd have to talk about it sooner or later, she thought it would be best if San was the one to know since he would never tell anyone else and he'd understand since he was tainted as well.

"Remember when that group of missionaries came to stay over at our city for a while back in high school?"

San nodded, vividly remembering everything. Y/N blushed and smiled shyly.

"Do you remember that there was a family with a son our age? Chase?"

San widened his eyes and flopped over on his back as his hands came to hide his face.

"Oh dear lord, please don't tell me it was that Canadian boy." He groaned in pain.

"Yeah....yeah it was."

San couldn't stop cringing at the thought of his friend doing such a thing.

"How even did that happen?" He was so lost.

"I don't know! It just did ok? It happened while we were out in that camping trip. Somewhere there, we were left alone and we started talking about everything and nothing til it spiraled into talking about sex and us being virgins decided to see what was the big deal....." She bit her lower lip as the memory flashed in her mind. Looking over at San, she knew he was judging her as she expected. A tiny snort escaped his lips.

"That must have been the worst 45 seconds of your life." He joked, earning him a slap on his chest by Y/N's hand.

"It was not 45 seconds!............. it was 2 minutes."

San only laughed harder at that, nearly crying from how funny it was to him. He composed himself though when he saw how embarrassed Y/N looked about it. Feeling bad for laughing at her expense, he cleared his throat and patted her head.

"It's ok. First times are always awkward and uncomfortable. The problem was you weren't prepared and you were both inexperienced. He just didn't know how to please you."

Y/N couldn't help herself as she asked:

"And I suppose you can?"

Flipping onto his stomach, San cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb across her lower lip.

"Don't tread on dangerous territory little angel lest you want an evil demon to corrupt you." He warned her, and although he wouldn't actually follow through on it, he did want to tease her a little. But he wasn't expecting for Y/N to play along to his teasing, only she was not joking at all as she brought her face closer to his.

"Maybe I want you to corrupt me, show me what I've been missing out on." She brushed her lips against his, tongue daring to poke out and press on his slit briefly, leaving him stunned.

"You have no idea what you're asking for princess." San mused as he held himself back from touching her.

"I know what I'm asking for Choi San and what I'm asking for....is you." She responded with confidence.

Escaping from underneath the blanket that covered her, Y/N reclined back on the mattress, her head laying on her soft pillow as she gestured for San to come over to her, which he promptly did. Parting her legs so he could fit his body between them, he smirked softly down at her eagerness, fingers brushing against the soft skin on her thighs.

"You're serious about this?" He wanted to make sure it wouldn't be something she'd regret.

"I already messed up once, what's one more time gonna do?" She pulled him down against her, not caring when he lost balance and accidentally crushed her under him with his muscular body.

"Besides...." Wanting to further entice him, Y/N brushed her lips against his ear.

"Look at me and tell me you don't want to fuck me. That you don't want to stuff that hard cock of yours into my tight and inexperienced pussy. Bet you're itching to tear into me until I'm crying under you. Don't you want that?"

San let out a moan at hearing such filthy and depraved talk from her. It only fueled his appetite and hunger for indulging in carnal desires.

"Yes... I want that.... I want you."

Closing space between them, San molded his lips over hers, encasing them in a sloppy and wet kiss. Y/N could faintly make out the leftover scent of alcohol and nicotine as she let him taste her mouth, but she didn't mind or felt grossed out by it. She just kept her lips parted and allowed him to move his tongue freely inside her. Cupping her cheeks, San continued to roll his tongue over hers, massaging it gently with both deep yet gentle strokes. When he pulled away, he made sure to tuck her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it towards him as Y/N let out a moan that was like music to his ears. Pausing briefly, their lips were barely touching as they breathed in each other's air. San was the first one to break into a smile, the one that had Y/N melting since it displayed his dimples to the fullest.

"Never thought I'd hear that sound come out of your pretty mouth." He teased her.

"S-shut up." She frowned, hand reaching up to smack his chest.

"It's not a bad thing. I like it. Now let's see if I can make sure you keep them up."

Stuffing his face into her neck, San ghosted his lips across her skin, tongue subtly poking out solely to hear her breath hitch slightly. Dipping his tongue into her collarbone, his lips opened up so they could firmly latch and spread wet kisses across her neck. Y/N gasped when she felt teeth sink down, head tilting back to give San more room which he took advantage of. Focusing on particular spots that he knew she was sensitive in, he sucked her skin into his mouth. Each time he pulled away, he reveled when he saw the finished mark that was now painted on her skin.

"I would love to see your parent's reaction to my love bites." He brushed a fingers across the newest spot he just embedded in her body, hand then reaching up to suddenly clasp around her neck. Y/N shuddered when his grip got tighter, her oxygen intake getting cut and making her feel hazy, but it was nonetheless enjoyable. Snaking a hand under her shirt, or more like his shirt, San swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he started to pull the material up.

"How about I make some matching ones all across your pretty chest?"

Before he could lift the shirt any further, Y/N's hand clasped around his wrist, preventing him from moving any further.

"Don't." She begged him.

San retracted his hands away from her, fearing he made her uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologized and began to move away from her, but Y/N's hands raked against his thighs to keep him in place.

"No, it's not you. It's just..... if we're going to do this, can I keep the shirt on? I don't...." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she admitted an insecurity of hers.

"I don't like my chest. My boobs are too small, it's unflattering and I'd rather you not see them." She slowly opened her eyes to see his reaction. San had a sad look on his face, bottom lip poking out as his fingers came up to brush against her cheek. Remembering what he had previously said back in the parking loyal, he felt terrible for saying that ill intended joke about her body. He probably hurt her and he didn't realize it.

"Y/N don't say that. Your chest size doesn't matter. You're beautiful the way you are and I bet underneath that layer is clothing there is the cutest and most adorable set of boobs in the world." She let out an involuntary giggle at his words, letting him run his hand down her clothed sternum.

"But if that's what you want, I'll respect it. Either way, my tshirt looks amazing on you." He acknowledged rather cockily.

Shifting further back, San took hold of the top of her shorts, making sure to look at her.

"Are you ok with these coming off?"

Y/N resisted the temptation to slap the top of his head.

"If you don't take them off, how are you going to fuck me genius?" She retorted.

"You'd be surprised at what I've learned." He uttered, mostly to himself than at her.

Like an expert, he practically tore her shorts down her legs, panties falling to the floor along with them. Y/N let out a soft squeal when he took hold of her thighs and brought her down so his face was at eye level with her most intimate part. San took a few seconds to admire her bare mound, lips parted and threatening to start drooling all over her thighs. Pressing both thumbs against each one is her lips, San pried her folds open, staring intently as he now clearly saw all of her.

"Oh fuck. I'm gonna need to prep you real good. I can tell you're going to be really tight."

She wanted to ask him what he meant by prep, but her words got caught in her throat when she felt his tongue delve into her core. She had never felt someone's mouth anywhere near her folds and she regretted not having experienced it before. Her eyes shut tight as she marveled at the sensation of San's tongue lapping at her bud, his lips making sure to enclose all around the flesh surrounding it before giving it gentle suckles. Shaky breaths blew out from her mouth, her legs wanting to close themselves around San's head but his firm grip on her thighs kept it from happening. He kept her knees pinned to the bed as his mouth continued to ravish at her taste, sloppily consuming her heat fervently. Her mind was so occupied in what he was doing that she didn't register the hand that slowly crept away from her thigh until she felt something poke at her entrance.

"Oh-" She gasped, opening her eyes to see what was going on.

"Relax princess. It's just my finger.....for now." He momentarily pulled off her heat to let her know what was happening before diving back in to continue his task of eating her out.

His finger inside her felt a little weird at first, sliding in slowly before pulling out only to plunge itself back into her. During one of those times where she expected him to slide back in, she was surprised when she felt herself being stretched out as San curled a second finger inside her. Keeping them lodged there, he began scissoring them alternatively so he could further spread her walls apart. During one of those movements, his fingertips brushed along her hood, making her hips slightly jolt up into San's face, who smiled against her folds as he now knew exactly where to angle his hips for later. Using this new knowledge, that was probably unbeknownst to Y/N, he slipped his fingers deeper into her, knuckles deep as he moved his tips rhythmically on the the spot he found. Y/N's mouth fell wide open into an 'O' as whiny gasps and airy moans poured out of it. San's mouth latched to her clit and his fingers working deep in her hole was producing a stirring in the lower pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite make out. But it felt good, especially since it continued to grow more and more, almost as if it was a cord about to snap.

"San- wait. I feel, I feel-" She couldn't finish her sentence as her body trembled slightly, a flood of overwhelming pleasure washing over her that was prolonged by San drinking up the juices that spilled forth out of her body. He didn't pull away until he made sure to swallow every drop she had to give.

"Aren't you grossed out?" She asked him, always having wondered about that.

"Nope. I love licking girl's pussies, especially if they're as sweet as yours." He affirmed while pulling his shirt off his body.

Y/N turned her flustered face away from him, keeping her gaze locked on the wall to her right, which was decorated with several polaroids of her with her family, friends and members of her church, some of them even had San in them, back when they were inseparable. Before she could become nostalgic, a strong set of hands clutched her chin and teared her gaze away from the pictures, forcing her to stare at the now naked man in front of her.

"Forget about that for now. Right now I want your full attention on me and what we're about to do. After we're done, that image of a good girl you have will gone." His words seemed to almost taunt her.

Although she tried not to look, Y/N's eyes fell in between San's legs, filled with astonishment when she glimpsed for the very first time at her former friend's member, fully erect and leaking at the tip as it awaited to be hugged by her warm walls.

"Like it? Maybe later I'll let you play with it." San giggled when her eyes shot up at him in surprise.

Placing himself to hover above her, he hummed lowly as he slowly stuffed himself inside her, working her open until he was fully nestled inside her warmth. Although she felt a light burn scraping against her inner walls, it wasn't unpleasant or painful like her first time. She could tell San knew exactly what he was doing as he began rolling his hips. Perfectly recalling exactly where to aim at, he made sure to angle his thrusts accordingly so each time he pushed back in, he'd hit her pleasure spot.

"Oh God-" Y/N exclaimed when he continued to brushed against the hood of her core.

"Really think it's a good idea to call out the good lord's name when I'm balls deep inside your pussy?" He asked with a malicious smirk plastered across his face.

"No baby. Tonight your only lord is me."

Pinning her wrists above her head, San continued pushing his cock deeper into her. The harsh pounding of his hips against hers was becoming louder, their bodies starting to get heated and producing sweat. Y/N couldn't do anything but whimper and wrap her legs around San's waist, keeping him firmly locked to her body. She closed her eyes once more as she felt the same familiar feeling from before start piling up, only it felt more intense and stronger probably due to the fact that she was getting railed to her bed by her ex best friend, whom she still cared about deeply. She was definitely not planning on making up with him this way, but holy hell, she couldn't deny that he was making her feel so many emotions at once. Pleasure, lust, satisfaction, happiness, euphoria, love? Perhaps that last one was definitely a stretch, but she blamed her confused thoughts on how well his cock was abusing her hole. She felt unable to focus on anything except him.

"Clenching so hard around me babygirl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock?"

Slipping one hand in between their bodies, San pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth so it would serve as an extra push to tip her over the edge. Y/N splayed her hands on San's lower back, nails raking against his skin, causing him to hiss.

"Fuck- am I seriously making you feel that good babygirl?" He knew for a fact he was feeling absolutely amazing, her tight warmth gripping along his shaft, making it hard for him to hold back much longer.

"Mmm yeah." She shamelessly moaned.

"Am I better than your first?" Although he already knew the answer, he still wanted to feed his ego and hear her say it.

"So much better! It feels so fucking good." She inhaled sharply when that she began to feel the sensation from before. With even louder cries from before, her body shook underneath San's, blood rushing to her head as an even greater orgasm coursed through her body. She was left speechless, a full on panting mess even after San had pulled out of her after helping her ride out her high.

"Oh geez. Shit." San's voice rasped out as he jerked himself off, his cum painting her thighs white, not stopping until he had finished coating them with everything he had to give.

Looking down at the mess, Y/N couldn't suppress a tiny giggle, one of her hands clasping over her mouth while the other picked up some of his cum and spread it between her fingers.

"Having fun there?" San grinned, finding her fascinated gaze to be completely adorable to him.

"Yeah.." She said as sat up to get a better look at the cum around her thighs.

"Well I was going to clean it off you, but seeing as you're so entertained by it, I'll just leave you with it."

Not forgetting that he was merely a guest, San slid himself off her bed and plopped his tired body onto the blankets on the floor. Closing his eyes, he was thinking he would finally be able to sleep, but he found his plans thwarted when he felt a pair of hands graze across his chest. Looking up, he found Y/N straddling his lap, biting down on her lower lip as she grinded her wet folds along his softened dick which was now becoming hard again thanks to her.

"What in the world are you doing you crazy girl?" He sucked in a breath, not expecting her to suddenly pounce on him.

"I wanna try that again." She pleaded, grinding her hips harder on him.

"Oh my- did I accidentally turn you into a nymphomaniac?" She chuckled at his joke and although he groaned as if he was frustrated, he obliged to her wishes and sat up.

Clasping her waist with his hands, he lifted her up and guided her so she could easily sink herself down on his length. Not letting go, he slowly rolled his hips up, burying himself deep in her body once more. Since they were both still riled up from their previous session, it didn't take long for both of them to start spewing out a clutter of moans and grunts as they once again get lost in a mist of lust that clouded their minds. San drunk up every expression on Y/N's face. Every twitch of her facial muscles, every shuddering breath she exhaled, each time her eyelids shut close, he marveled at seeing her enjoy the experience. He loved seeing her indulge in such an intimate practice with him, more so given how special she was to him, one of the most important people in his life aside from his family. Looking down at her torso, his fingers brushed along the hem of her shirt.

"Please...." His urging caught her attention.

"Please let me see all of you. I want to admire every inch of you and your beautiful body. I promise I won't laugh or judge. I just want to worship you."

Y/N hesitated briefly, still afraid to let him see what was hidden under the shirt.

"It's ok if you don't want to. I won't force you." He shot a kind smile at her as he focused back on making sure to drive his cock up into her.

Feeling safe and knowing she could trust her lifelong friend whom she thought of as a soulmate at one point, Y/N reached for the bottom of her shirt and peeled it off her body. Coming face to face with her bare chest, San groaned in ecstasy as he slid his hands up her body.

"Just as I predicted, you have very cute breasts."

Pulling her chest to his face, he opened his mouth and took one of her nipples in it, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. Y/N's fingers raked themselves through his hair, harshly tugging them when she felt his teeth sink themselves into her flesh.

"Aren't they too small?" She inquired.

Letting go of her breast with an audible pop, San cupped her chin.

"No baby, they're absolutely perfect. They're gorgeous, just like every other part of your body. You're gorgeous, absolutely stunning and holy fuck, you're driving me insane honestly." He confessed, his mouth diving into her other breast so it wouldn't feel left out from being tenderly kissed and sucked on.

His words sunk deep in Y/N's heart. He really did found her beautiful, attractive and it spurred something in her. Feeling a newfound passion, Y/N unconsciously began taking over their movements. Pushing against his thrusts, she began to set her own pace, rutting herself on top of his dick. San of course took notice and was happy about it.

"Oh wanna take over now baby? Well go ahead."

Laying back down on the floor, his eyes stared up at her with lust.

"Fuck yourself on me darling."

Encouraged by him, Y/N began bouncing herself on his cock. Finding an angle that she liked, she sunk down on his length over and over, her head thrown back as she used his body to push her down another spiral of immense pleasure. San just relaxed and admired the way she lost herself and gave into her deepest desires. He loved the way she rode his cock, and he loved feeling her walls tighten once more around his shaft.

"Oh shit- Sannie." She cried out his name as she quivered on top of him, her juices spilling out onto his cock once more.

Knowing fully well she was probably aching between her thighs, San gripped her hips and helped her ride out her climax so the feeling she was going through wouldn't go away just yet. He made sure to be gentle, easing her up and down his cock with absolute tenderness. Once he knew she was satisfied, he pulled her of him and set her down on the floor before sitting up above her body. Just like before, he took hold of his cock and began pumping his cum out of his body, plastering it all across her inner thighs and even splattering some on her stomach. Looking up, Y/N had the same giggly expression as before.

"Does my cum really make you burst into a fit of giggles?" He questioned her.

"I can't help it. It's just... I don't know. Maybe it's the fact it's so dirty and wrong, and then to have you spread it all over my body." She explained, which made San chuckle.

"Maybe I should baptize your thighs with my cum more often." Although he was joking, Y/N was more than willing to take him up on that offer.

"Will you?" She looked up at him with puppy eyes.

San studied her for a moment, before a wicked idea popped in his brain.

"How about you let me baptize and stain that pretty face of yours?"

Getting a hint of what he meant, Y/N got up on her knees while San stood up right in front of her, cock in hand as he brought it up to her lips.

"I hope you weren't planning on going to morning services tomorrow because I'm going to keep you up til morning until your knees hurt."

808 notes · View notes

mochegato · 3 years ago

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 20

Chapter 1 Chapter 19

“I thought vampire eyes glowed, not werewolves,” Marinette commented, looking to the side thoughtfully. “If the source is in fact correct and they did see glowing coming from under his mask and it wasn’t just some electronic stuff going on.”

Bernard stared at her, his chewing temporarily paused as he processed her words. “He’s a werewolf/vampire hybrid,” he offered instead, his eyes widening in excitement.

Marinette nodded. “Right. Right.” She took another bite of her food. “That makes more sense.”

Bernard held his hands out like he was showing off a revelation. “Yeah, that explains why the bats accepted him but he can only patrol during the day. They accept him because he is part vampire but he can patrol during the day because sunlight doesn’t affect him like it affects them.”

“And as far as we know, we’ve never seen Signal during a full moon, right? He helps out at night sometimes, but never during a full moon?” she pointed out. She looked over to Tim who was watching them with an increasingly horrified look. She smiled and winked at him. Tim chuckled silently and shook his head.

Bernard was bouncing in his spot on the couch. “Oh my God! I think you’re right. I need to research that.”

“But,” Marinette quirked her head to the side in thought, “you’ve seen the bats during the day, haven’t you?”

Bernard held a finger up, a bright smile on his face like he caught her in his trap. “Did you know the CIA uses these masks that are so thin you can’t tell they’re wearing anything? They’re so lifelike, they fool their target when they’re in a close conversation.”

Marinette furrowed her brow. “No.” She turned to Tim. “Is that true?”

Tim shrugged. “According to a former head of operations it is.”

Marinette blinked a few times. “Huh… we should get that technology for our fabric.”

Tim looked at her thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea. There must be some way to integrate the same technology.”

“Anyway,” Bernard interrupted, unable to contain his excitement, “you know what that means.” His face got impossibly brighter and more excited. Marinette looked over at Tim for a clue but he just gave a shake of his head.

Marinette wanted to snort at the exasperated look on his face. This must be a regular topic of conversation for them then. Marinette narrowed her eyes at Bernard as she thought. A bright grin crossed her face as she realized what he was getting at. “They can use that as protection from the sun. The rest of them is always covered by their suits except their face and necks, which the mask would cover.”

Bernard bounced higher on the couch and pointed at her excitedly. “Exactly! They could use the same technology. It protects them! But they don’t want to use it too often because if it breaks or rips, or whatever it does, then they could get hurt. And we know they have access to the most state of the art technology. Why wouldn’t they have that as well?”

Marinette nodded contemplatively. “It all fits.” She took another bite as she considered something. “So… don’t the supers like, love the sun? My friend told me that a while ago. But the Bats are close with the supers, right? That must be an awkward friendship.”

She took another bite while Bernard’s face scrunched in thought. “I bet they have a truce or something. An agreement of when they meet during the day and when they meet at night.”

Tim stared at him aghast at the idea but tried to hide it by taking a sudden interest in the skyline outside. Marinette scrunched up her nose. “That’s awfully formal for a friendship. Unless you’re suggesting they have some kind of alliance between their houses, it’s probably a lot more lax.”

Bernard nodded. “You’re probably right.” He took another bite as he thought. Suddenly his eyes lit up. “What if they are two different ancient factions? And that’s part of the alliance; the supers stay in Metropolis and the bats stay in Gotham.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “Speaking of Metropolis,” he cut in louder than strictly necessary. “Duke said you’re planning on being in Metropolis this weekend?”

Marinette grinned. “Yeah. We leave tomorrow morning. I’m excited. Adrien’s been there a few times but I haven’t gotten a chance to check it out yet.”

“Metropolis can be a lot of fun,” Bernard nodded. “Do you know what you want to see while you’re there?”

Marinette took another bite and shook her head. “No. We’re mostly just trying to get a feel for the place, see if we think we could live there, rather than focusing on visiting museums.”

Bernard patted Tim on the back and gave Marinette a smug look. “Luckily, Tim’s best friend lives there. He’s really familiar with the city.”

Tim’s eyes lit up. He could kiss Bernard for that segue. Actually, he would kiss him for it later. “Oh yeah. Conner lives there. I can give him a call to see if he might have time to take you guys around, give you a feel for the place.” He had time. Tim already knew. They’d already called him to keep an eye on her and Adrien, but if he could get Marinette to invite him, Conner would have a much closer position.

Bernard stared hard at Tim for a few seconds and pursed his lips. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” He stared at him a few more seconds waiting for Tim to pick up on what he wasn’t saying. When Tim picked at his food instead of responding, Bernard let out an annoyed sigh. “Do you think Conner would be comfortable taking around strangers? Would he feel more comfortable if you were there too?”

Tim looked at Bernard wide eyed then looked back and forth between Marinette and him mentally cursing Bernard for leading them down this path. He’d still kiss him, but he was going to whine about this the whole time. “I… no. Conner’s super…” he caught himself and cleared his throat. “I mean Conner’s very friendly. He won’t mind. Unfortunately, I have plans this weekend so I wouldn’t be able to come. But I’m sure Conner can handle it.” He looked at Marinette guiltily. “I’ll call him to see if he’s free and give you his number so you’ll have it.”

Marinette could feel her shoulders start to stiffen. She glanced over at Bernard while Tim was talking. His face flashed with confusion for a moment before he smoothed it over with a friendly smile. So, Tim’s plans weren’t with Bernard or with his best friend. They were probably with the family then, plans that didn’t include her. She looked back down at her food and pushed it around, not taking a bite. Her appetite disappearing suddenly. “Yeah, that would be helpful. Thanks, Tim.”

Bernard took the last bite of his lunch and looked back and forth between Tim and Marinette, noting the tension in both their frames. “Right,” he started, standing up to take his plate to the cart. “I’m going to… leave.” He paused a moment as if thinking of what to say next before shrugging. “I don’t have a reason. I just want you two to talk. I’ll catch you later, Tim. It was nice to meet you, Marinette.”

Marinette jumped up to give him a la bise. “It was nice to meet you too, Bernard.” She pulled away and gave him a brilliant smile. “And please, call me Mari.”

Bernard grinned back at her and nodded. “I will. Talk to you later.” He gave Tim a chaste kiss goodbye and waved before disappearing through the door.

Marinette and Tim both watched as Bernard left the room. They continued to look at the door for a few moments before finally looking back at each other. They chuckled awkwardly and sat back in their seats. They both pushed their food around on their plates, pretending like the action demanded their full attention. After a few minutes of silence only broken by forks scraping against the plates Marinette finally spoke up, her voice thin. “So… Bernard’s interest in conspiracies… that must mesh well with your interest in unsolved mysteries.”

Tim looked at her wide eyed, so surprised by her voice he dropped his fork. He internally groaned. Why was he making this so awkward? Actually, he knew why. He just had to figure out how to fix it. “Um… yeah… it overlaps a lot. I’m not as…” He looked toward the door trying to figure out how to phrase his thoughts. “He’s more… free with his vision of what’s possible than I am. Sometimes that helps. But it’s always interesting.” He looked over at her anxiously. “Are theories like that… um… do you believe…”

Marinette giggled and gave him a small smile. “No. I’m a bit more…” she looked for the proper word herself, “restrained. But one of my best friends, Alya loves a good conspiracy theory. That one theory he mentioned, about the Miraculous team being aliens? That was probably from her blog. She has a really popular blog that started out talking about the Miraculous team and theories about them. She’s a more serious journalist now but she still likes to indulge.” She quirked her lips to the side as she thought. “It’s a fun logic exercise, you know? Taking the pieces and seeing how you can fit them together without worrying about the rules of probability.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, I get that. I like it when I solve a case so I’m usually more… restrained,” he gave Marinette a small smile, “in my theories because they’re real cases and the solutions rarely require as creative thinking.”

Marinette smiled at him, a tense, tight smile. “Yeah…” she trailed off, returning her eyes to her plate.

Tim’s smile fell as he watched her. He squeezed his eyes closed, mentally berating himself. He tightened his fist, tapping it against his thigh in a repetitive motion that usually comforted him, but no comfort was offered this time. He sat taller, finally coming to a decision.

“I wanted to apologize.”

Marinette and Tim looked at each other in surprise at their synchronized apologies. Their faces scrunched in mirrored looks of confusion. “Apologize?” Marinette asked at the same time Tim asked, “For what?”

Marinette looked down at her hands. “For dinner,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have…” she rolled her shoulders nervously and fought to keep her tone even, “I shouldn’t have walked out on you guys like that. I ruined the dinner. It was really unfair of me to bring that all up.”

Tim’s eyes widened in horror. He shook his head vigorously. “What! No! Not at all.” He scooted closer to her. He reached to lay his hands on hers but pulled them back at the last minute. They weren’t close. And as much as he liked her, he hadn’t exactly left the best impression on her so his touch likely wouldn’t be comforting.

“You had every right to be upset and the fact that you stepped away to process before you lashed out? You’re like the most emotionally intelligent out of all of us. In fact, after finding out some of the things you’ve been through, you could have attacked Bruce, could have put him in the hospital, and the rest of us would have still sided with you. We would have given you an alibi.”

Marinette snorted, finally looking up through her bangs to look at him. Her eyes were still uncertain but significantly less guilt-ridden. Tim gave her a small smile. “Walking away was probably the best reaction any of us have ever had to bad or disappointing realizations. You’re going to have to give us lessons on how to appropriately respond to stress.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “I am not the bar on that.”

Tim scoffed and waved her off. “You have no idea how low our abilities in that area are. Not to scare you away, but when Bruce is in a really bad mood, he either freezes everyone out or blows up, lashing out in the most damaging way possible. Damian does both at the same time. But where Bruce is usually psychologically damaging, Damian is physically damaging. Damian’s getting better… and so is Bruce.”

Tim sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I said not to scare you away then said possibly the most scary thing possible. They really are better than they were. But,” he let out another long breath, “but this family is like one crisis after another, so be warned. And none of us have the ability or apparently the desire to actually deal with any of it in a healthy way.”

Tim shook his head and slouched back. “When I joined it was because Bruce was suffering a kind of psychotic break after he thought he lost Jason. That was like eight years ago and he’s still recovering. Then Bruce finally got back on his feet, not completely healed, but better. And then Damian came and knocked his progress back. And Damian… well… Damian didn’t go through a psychotic break but it felt like it. He was touchy and delicate and violent for a long time. He’s still coming out of that. Then Jason was back and he was definitely going through a psychotic break.”

Marinette blinked at him, trying to process this new information about the Waynes. On the one hand it was extremely nice to get the truth, not a mocked up, PR friendly version of them for once. The honest truth, no hiding things from her. On the other hand… what the fuck. Apparently the whole shutting down thing she did was inherited from her father, since he and both his biological children reacted that way. Jason seemed fine… right? Sarcastic but that’s what she liked about him. “What about Dick?”

“Oh yeah, Dick,” Tim took another breath and grimaced. “He got shot in the head, lost his memory, was a complete psychotic asshole for a while.” He smiled overly widely. “But he’s back now. Cass her whole childhood was influenced by psychotic assholes.”

Marinette pursed her lips. “And you?”

“Not yet,” he gave her a wry smile, “but it’s coming, it’s embedded in the Wayne name. You and Duke, it’s coming for you both.”

Marinette scoffed. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already had a few. I think we just have to watch out for Duke then.”

A look of sadness flashed across Tim’s face, but he quickly covered with a smile. “See, you are our sister.” He took another breath to ground himself before continuing. “I want to apologize, for the gala.”

Marinette quirked her head to the side. “For the gala?”

“For what I said… at the gala.” His eyes turned desperate. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. I know how it must have sounded, but I swear I didn’t know. I never would have… I’m just so sorry. I never meant to imply that you weren’t welcome in the family, that…” he looked down, completely uncertain how to finish his apology. “I’m just so sorry. I know what it’s like to feel unwanted by your family, intentionally excluded.” He moved closer to her until he was sitting in front of her in front of her. “I swear I never meant to make you feel that way.”

He almost jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up and met Marinette’s eyes. Instead of anger or frustration or even hurt, like he feared, her eyes were soft. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. And yeah, it hurt, but it wasn’t on you. You didn’t know and I shouldn’t have come after I found out. It was too close. I wasn’t ready.”

Tim stared at her aghast. “It was in no way your fault.”

Marinette gave him a small smile. “It wasn’t yours either.” She stared at him for a few seconds before pursing her lips. “You know what we should do?” Tim shook his head. “We should do something fun. Something we’d like. Are there any escape rooms around here? Challenging ones?”

It took Tim longer than he’d care to admit to understand what she was doing, offering a bonding activity, an olive branch to make them both feel better. Slowly he started nodding. “A few take me more than a few minutes, but I wouldn’t recommend going to any around here. You never know when Riddler or ClueMaster will take over.”

She quirked her head to the side. “Have they done that to you before?”

Marinette’s voice was more curious than scared, which Tim supposed he should expect from her by now. Damn, he really needed to get to know her better. He nodded and shot her a deadpan expression. “Twice. Each.”

“Oof.” Marinette shook her head and took a drink. “Added, unscheduled challenge. I hate those.”

“I know right!” He smiled at her. “They have some in Metropolis that are far safer. One or two that sometimes are a challenge. I really can’t get out of things this weekend, but maybe next weekend or some other time we can go together?”

“Yeah, that sounds fun.” She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I bet I can get through before you can.”

Tim’s grin widened, his eyes sparked with mischief. “Oh it’s on. You and me. No outside help.”

Marinette scoffed. “Like I would need the help. What are the stakes?”

Tim shrugged. “What do you usually play for?”

“With my friends? It’s usually bragging rights or the loser has to do something stupid.” The image of Kim running through the Louvre in nothing but his speedo came to mind. He and Alix both got in trouble for that one… but not her. Which she supposed was unfair since she was the one that issued the punishment but life isn’t fair so… She smiled at Tim. “How about you?”

Tim contemplated it for a few seconds. “We usually play for something like a favor, no questions asked, or trade off… uh… responsibilities. I’d be fine with bragging rights, if that’s okay with you.”

Marinette grinned. “I’m extremely competitive. Bragging rights is perfect. And if by some miracle you were to win,” Tim snorted but quickly schooled his face, “I’ll even bake you something.”

Tim sighed dramatically and shook his head. “You know, I was going to go easy on you, but after that… I’m going to take you so far down, we’re going to need to use a tracker to find you.”

Marinette snorted. “If you’re going to go all Big Brother on me, which… is a little brother allowed to do that?” She raised a challenging eyebrow at him. “You should have said so far down the multiple trackers I have on you won’t even help find you. But you missed your shot at being scary, just like you’ll lose at the breakout room.”

Whatever retort was on the tip of Tim’s tongue died when the office door swung open. “Tim, I wanted to go over...”

Marinette and Tim froze the instant they recognized the intruder as Bruce. Bruce took a few more seconds to register who was with Tim. He stopped midsentence, his eyes widening incrementally. Tim looked back and forth between the two of them trying to read their reactions.

“Marinette…” Bruce started. Bruce shook his head as if dispensing his insecurities and took a steadying breath. “I was hoping to run into you. I was going to call you if I didn’t see you,” he rushed to add. Tim grimaced at how awkward he was. On the bright side, he wasn’t trying to cover his emotions by acting cold or hiding behind his Brucie persona. On the down side, she didn’t know him well enough to realize his extreme awkwardness was actually a sign of how important she was to him, how hard he was trying.

“I… I wanted to talk… about what you said at dinner.” He sighed and looked down, running his hand through his hair. “I just really wanted to talk, maybe explain what was going on here at that time, eight years ago.”

Tim gasped in realization and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. This family… He shook his head. This family truly was cursed wasn’t it? He looked over to Marinette. He could see her squeezing her hands into fists, so tightly, her knuckles were white. He fully expected to see blood dripping from her fist any moment now. There was no way her nails weren’t digging into her skin. He almost let out a relieved breath when she eased her hands and redirected to harshly rubbing the hem of her blazer.

“It doesn’t excuse anything,” he added quickly. “I know that. It doesn’t make it okay… but… can we talk? Maybe over dinner? Tonight. I don’t want to put this off any longer.”

Marinette bit her lower lip and shot a quick look over at Tim. He gave her a supportive smile and a barely noticeable nod. Marinette took a breath and met Bruce’s eyes again. “Okay. That sounds like a good idea,” she agreed, her voice emotionless in stark contrast to the anxiety Tim could clearly see in her eyes. “I had plans to see the Gotham Knights tonight with Dick but I think he’ll understand.”

Bruce let out a relieved breath. “Thank you. I’ll figure out where we can go and send you the information. Does that sound okay?”

Marinette nodded lightly, her face still passive. “Yes. Thank you.”

Bruce nodded again. “I’ll go work on that now.” He turned to Tim. “When you get a chance, please stop by my office.” Tim and Bruce nodded to each other before Bruce left again, with one last anxious look at Marinette.

Tim observed Marinette for a few seconds. She hadn’t moved since Bruce left, hadn’t even slumped against something for support. He inched his way closer to her. He reached out to rub her arm but pulled back. He didn’t know how she liked being comforted, or even if she liked being comforted or if it was conditional. Dick liked being comforted even if there was nothing to comfort. Damian would cut your hand off if you tried, or at least if Tim tried, regardless of what the issue was. Cass’ comfort with it depended on the day and the situation. It was best to ask first.

He decided to stand next to her, hoping his proximity was enough to comfort her. “I c… If you want, I can go with you,” he offered quietly. “Or if you’re more comfortable with Jason or Duke, I’m sure they’d be willing to be there with you… if you don’t want to be alone with him. Or you could bring one of your friends. He won’t mind. I’m sure he’d understand.”

Marinette continued to stare at the door for a minute before looking up at him blankly. After a few seconds she blinked rapidly and shook her head. “No. No, thank you for your offer. I think it’s something we should figure out between the two of us. That’s separate from me and the rest of you.” A smile that didn’t meet her eyes curled on her lips. “And I don’t think having Jason or Adrien there would help the situation, do you?”

Tim pursed his lips. He was helpless, or rather not capable of being helpful in this situation, and he hated that feeling. “No,” he agreed. He suddenly smirked. “I mean… it depends on what you mean by ‘help’.” He leaned closer to her. “I’m sure Jason would be more than happy to help you deal with Bruce.”

Marinette chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. He made that pretty clear when Bruce first talked to me. Jason was there.”

Tim chuckled. “I bet that was interesting.”

Marinette opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Tim’s intercom buzzing. Tim sighed and pushed the button. “Yes, Mr. Cortland?”

“Mr. Richards is here for your meeting and Ms. Dupain Cheng’s laptop just arrived,” David answered.

Tim sent her a sad smile. “Guess that’s our cue.” Marinette nodded and grabbed her purse to go. “Hey,” he called out before she could leave. “I still have to give you Conner’s number.” He motioned toward her phone. Marinette handed it to him readily. Tim entered the number quickly. “I… Conner, he’s not like me. He’s sup… really friendly and outgoing and kind. Really fun to be around. He’ll be thrilled to take you guys around if you decide to give him a call. Plus, you know, he’s single.” Marinette groaned at him. “Hey, you said Adrien was looking right? Although you might change your mind when you see him. You two can figure that out though.”

Marinette quirked her head to the side and gave Tim a wry smile. “I’ve already said Adrien gets first dibs. No fighting over potential partners.” Her expression suddenly turned serious. “You strike me as all those things too, Tim. I had fun being around you. And I’m really, really looking forward to the breakout room competition.” She pointed between the two of them and narrowed her eyes playfully. “You issued a challenge and I’m not going to let my little brother get one up on me.”

Tim blinked at her a few times, a wide grin spreading on his face. She said ‘brother’. Again. That was twice now. She’d never called him family before today, let alone brother. After the Riddler incident and what she said to Duke, how she reacted, he didn’t know if they’d be able to get to this point. And especially after what just happened with Bruce, the fact that she called him brother…

Tim could barely contain his grin to narrow his eyes back at her and stepped closer. “I think we have a Romulus vs. Remus situation here. I may be younger, but you’re definitely littler.” He looked down at her pointedly.

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t Romulus kill Remus?”

Tim choked. “That’s… not the part I was focusing on.” He looked at her wide eyed. “I’m not planning on killing you, I promise.”

Marinette snorted. “Who said you were Romulus? Maybe I want to take over the empire.”

Tim snorted back and reached out to hug her, waiting to see how she would react. Marinette leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Thank God,” he whispered. “Finally a sibling with the same morbid sense of humor. It was so lonely, you have no idea.” That got a full belly laugh out of her that he quickly joined in.

Chapter 21

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8 @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark @nerd-nowandforever

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #mbdbwm2021 #Even the Losers #prompt - Wayne Gala

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fandom-monium · 4 years ago

Note

i finished for the holidays and i just *chefs kiss* beautiful talented amazing sajkgdkj no words i love that romance wasnt even the main point 🥺💘 anyway i love how you write reader and i wondered between her and spencer who gets jealous???

Unrivaled

Summary: In which you seem pretty close with the new intern, and Spencer is not happy about it. (ft. one of my fave white bois) “Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

WC: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, Jealous!Spencer bc id like to see that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, the lightest implication of smut ever, points to yall who can guess who the intern is before reading the end or the tags 😉

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be?

He has no reason to be jealous, Spencer chants to himself as he sits at his desk. Even from across the bullpen he still manages to hear your voice, and while normally it’s music to his ears, even better than Mozart, now it just feels like nails against a chalkboard. Grating his eardrums, making him wince.

Because you’re laughing. Not with Spencer though. Not at his obscure references or lame jokes.

With the new intern.

Why did Emily have to put you in charge of him? She could’ve chosen anyone on the team to have him shadow, but it had to be you! Not that you’re incapable or unqualified; you’re experienced, talented, and the best person he knows.

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

Why do they even have interns? Unnecessary, really, when the BAU has you and him and he guesses the other teams too (it’s weird, he’s never actually interacted with them but whatever). Maybe it’s time to start making budget cuts. He’ll discuss this with Emily when he gets the chance. He’s got some influence, working at the BAU as long as he has.

But he’s not jealous.

Logically, jealousy (like an intern) is unnecessary. The green-eyed monster (like an intern) is ugly and contributes nothing productive, and if Spencer’s being honest, the world (like an intern) would be much better off without it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he downs his coffee like a shot of whiskey, trying to quell the squirming beast in him. Despite 90% of it being sugar, it still tastes bitter. He sets his mug down with a thud, and it’s loud enough to make Luke, Garcia, and JJ turn their heads, exchanging concerned glances when he slumps back in his chair.

Spencer doesn’t care. The world’s ending; you’re apparently into younger guys, with neat dark hair and forearms that can probably snap someone’s neck, and he can’t do anything about it. What does it matter if his best friends catch him in a sour mood, right?

“Hey, Spence,” JJ's tone is soft as they slink over, Garcia and Luke leaning against the edge of his desk and JJ flanking the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer gazes past them, his eyes never leaving you. He deflates; your stance is relaxed, completely open as you nod at whatever Intern is saying, his hands gesturing spastically. It must be interesting, the way you listen with rapt attention and respond just as enthusiastic.

Spencer scoffs. Not like that’s anything special. You do the same for him. And the rest of the team.

...What the hell are you guys talking about?

“Well, you look like you’re about to throw your mug across the room. Or at an intern.”

Spencer blinks, finally breaking away from you long enough to eye the ceramic octopus. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“Don’t,” Garcia and JJ both shoot him a warning and he huffs, resting his chin in his hand. Garcia looks horrified, betrayed even while JJ has that expression on, the one she gives when she scolds Henry and Michael.

Whatever. It’s not like he’d ever sacrifice Mildred. Garcia entrusted her to him, after all.

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

Spencer snaps his head to Garcia, eyes wide and darting to you like you have super-hearing, “Jealous? Who’s jealous? Not me.” He cringes, his voice octaves higher and cracking like a prepubescent boy.

Garcia snorts, “Okay, sure. But if you are jealous, I was going to say you have no reason to be. You wanna know why?” Spencer raises an eyebrow at her and she continues, “Sure the guy’s smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship at GWU, and he’s top of his class at the academy—”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

"And he’s one of the most good looking guys I've ever met—”

"How is that relevant—"

Luke frowns at her. "And have you met me?"

“My point is,” Garcia’s red lipstick curls into the most reassuring smile, “that you have nothing to worry about because (Your Name) loves you. A lot.”

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

“I know so. I see the way they look at you, and if that’s not love I don’t know what is," She shrugs, "And just because they’re talking doesn’t mean they’re into him.”

There's a collective nod of agreement and Spencer sags in relief. Of course they're right. He knows they are.

If you think about it, technically, he's got the advantage. You've known each other longer, bonded and shared experiences together good and bad, and you’re emotionally and even physically intimate with each other (something he's especially proud of, considering how long it takes you both to warm up to others).

And who knows? This is probably temporary! Whatever this is, the connection you seem to instantly make with Intern (faster than when you two had met, he realizes with a needle to his heart) is short-term at best. It'll peter out eventually, like most friendships do.

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

They’re right, there is no need to worry, Spencer thinks as a weight lifts off his chest, finally able to breathe. You love him and he loves you and eventually, everything will go back to normal.

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

“Do not ‘Doc’ me,” Spencer grumbles, lifting his head from the comfort of his arms. He grimaces at Luke. “You didn’t see the way they looked at him. The way they talk about him.”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you’ve taken Intern under your wing, and he’s had enough. If Hell is real, this is it. For days, he’s tried to resume some form of normalcy, and he was never one to be bold but desperate times call for desperate measures as he asks you out for lunch or invites you out on dates, even stuff he wouldn’t normally do because they’re more your thing. Something, anything to get you away from Intern. But...

At work: “Hey Spence, I'm teaching Intern (menial task that a 4 year old could do). Would you like to help—”

During break: “I’m taking Intern out for lunch. He’s still new to town, and I thought he could use a tour—”

In bed: “Did you know Intern’s a huge fan of Star Wars—”

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that.

Spencer could tolerate this at work. At least he’s saving lives, being productive, getting paid. But under his roof? In his bed?

That was the last straw.

Spencer's not one to wish ill on another, he's not like that. But if something happened to the guy, say, get injured in the field, perhaps from a "stray" bullet, he'd be intern-ally grateful. Heh.

"Hey, you good?"

Spencer sighs, swiping a hand over his face and turning back to Luke. "Yeah, why?"

Luke waves a hand at his face, eyebrow raised, "For a second there, you kind of had a scary look on your face."

"Did I? Weird."

"Right," Clearly unconvinced, Luke brushes it off, deciding to get to the root of the matter. "As I was saying, I still think you have nothing to worry about. Although, I do think it's a little weird that (Your Name) is talking about Intern as much as you say they are." He offers Spencer a little smile, his hand falling heavy on his shoulder. It's the most comforting touch he's had in two weeks. "I'm not one to talk, but I suggest you speak to them. I'd also be uncomfortable if my partner were talking up someone else."

Spencer blinks, squints at Luke, before gripping his hand and standing up. "Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

"You can stand to mention it more often," Luke shrugs, eyes crinkling with amusement as Spencer lets go and heads for the door.

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

He searched the floor like a bloodhound, discovering you've been on your feet almost the entire day, running around the office, up and down the elevators, finishing your work and helping around. You must be exhausted. It's because of this he tracks you to your favorite break room, mostly quiet save for the buzzing drip of the old coffeemaker. He knows you need to be alone sometimes, recharge those social batteries.

So when he bursts into the room like he would hunting an unsub, eyes quickly scanning the immediate space, he expects nothing less but you. What he did not anticipate was to find you, just as soft and pretty as ever under the fluorescent lighting, leaning against the counter and sipping daintily at your favorite mug.

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

“Hey, Spencer,” You chirp as you lower your coffee mug, lips glossy from your drink. Spencer's quick to shake his stupor―he can’t afford to be distracted, but it’s difficult when you’re beaming at him, clearly excited. You nod at the home-wrecker, “Me and Intern here were just talking about demonology and he’s got this interesting theory on werewolves―" Lycanthropy? Are you fucking kidding him right now?

Just when he thought he couldn't hate the guy any more.

"CanItalktoyou?" It comes out rushed as Spencer gasps between breaths, leaving no room to second guess himself.

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

For a second, you watch him expectantly, and Spencer's gaze darts between you and Intern. "Alone?"

"Oh! Okay. Be gone," You wave Intern off, and when you place a hand on his shoulder, Spencer sees red. Or green in this case.

Intern doesn't resist, but the noise Spencer releases is animalistic because the guy can’t seem to read the room, questioning you as you gently shove him towards the door. "What about the thing―"

"We'll talk about that later."

"But you still need to show me how to―"

"Don't worry, Intern. Just wait for me, I'll show you once the adults are done talking."

"You know at some point you're gonna have to call me by my name."

"Nah. If we get to call Luke a newbie, we get to call you Intern. Also I do not know how to say your first name."

"You could just call me St―"

Enough of this. Spencer closes the last stretch of distance, batting your hand away from Intern’s shoulders as he kicks him out himself, slamming the door in his face. Spencer turns on his heel to face you, caging you both. “You―” He pants, chest heaving for air.

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

You’re unfazed, simply nodding at him and his odd behavior. If anything, you’re enjoying this as your lips twitch in a poor attempt to withhold your amusement, trying to cover it with a slurp of your cup. Then again, it’s not everyday you get to see Spencer, face flushed from exertion, speechless as he gasps for breath.

(At least not at work… In the break room specifically.)

It takes a minute as Spencer swallows a few times, but his heart’s erratic and it’s not just from running through the entire building. When he’s got enough air, he blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

“Did I forget something important? Upset you in some way?”

“No? I don’t think so?” You frown at him, your answers more like questions.

It only spurs him on, and though his tone is frantic and his eyes just as wild as his hair, you’re more intrigued than frightened. Definitely confused.

“Okay, but you know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you too but Spence, what’s this about?" Setting down your mug, you look at him like he's grown another head.

Spencer sighs, "I just… you…" He frowns, glancing between you, the floor, and the empty space between you.

Spencer Reid is a man of words. Many, many words, according to all his friends and his coworkers. Mainly knowledge―he's never been great with feelings―but as you gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he wants to melt into the floor. There's not a hint of annoyance on your features, your eyes warm and inviting.

He's so in love with you.

Then like scripture the words come, natural without much stuttering or hesitancy. He recounts the last two weeks. The internship so far, the times you've left Spencer behind for him, the times you just talked about him, like the guy (practically a stranger) is your new best friend. Usually, pretty people make him tongue-tied and you do―god, you do―but at the same time only you make it so easy. Talking, expressing without fear of―

"Pfft―"

―Judgement. Pausing mid-sentence, Spencer gawks as your nose twitches and your blink rate increases. You purse your lips, a hand slapped over your mouth as it threatens to break out into a grin.

"Are you-are you laughing right now?" When he just poured his feelings out to you?

That does it. You keel over, peels of laughter coming like a tsunami, crashing into him and Spencer loves your laugh but not when it's at him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing," you wheeze, gripping your stomach. Spencer pouts. There's even tears in your eyes. "But you're telling me this is all because you're jealous?"

He stutters, "Well-I-no-It’s just…" He wants to say ‘you're mine’, but as your eyes crinkle he knows there’s no need.

"That's kinda hot."

"Wha-really?" Wide-eyed, Spencer squeaks as you step closer to him, backing him into the door. His hands come up to his chest in a kitten-like manner yet at the same time protective―you'd never hurt him and you both know that―but you admit your initial reaction was poor when he laid his feelings bare.

“Ahhhh Babe, you know there’s no one else for me but you.” Spencer blushes and you chuckle, taking his hands in yours. He let's you. “Also, as adorable as Intern is, one, I think I’d be able to tell if he was hitting on me, and two, he’s not really my type.”

Spencer swallows, “And what exactly is your type?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Looking him up and down, you step closer, enough that your breath puffs against his chin. You smell like cheap coffee. “Tall, handsome doctors with messy, brown hair―” You lightly tug at one of his stray curls and he bites back a smile.

“―and a cute nose―” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, bringing him down to peck the tip of his nose. It scrunches as Spencer breaks out into giggles.

“―Who can recite classic literature. Who can bake like he belongs on The Great British Baking Show but can’t cook for shi―”

“Okay! Thank you, I get it,” Spencer says, almost completely relaxed now.

“Good,” You nod with finality. “And for your information, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you just abandoned me and talked about another guy for the hell of it?"

Spencer's tone is casual, joking even but you know better. There's underlying bitterness and hurt and your heart squeezes because you did that. "No, of course not. There is a reason behind all that.“

“What could possibly excuse you going above and beyond your job as a mentor―”

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

Spencer deadpans. “Set me up? With him?” Oh god, he knows you’re weird, but he’s never considered you to be outright insane (is it weird he still loves you?).

As if reading his thoughts, you roll your eyes, “Spencer, how many friends do you have outside the team?”

“Not a lot.” No hesitation, but he accepted the fact a long time ago.

“Yeah and that’s okay. But if you’d talk to Intern, you’ll find you two have a lot in common. I know he’s younger than us, but he’s a good kid, real smart,” You give him a meaningful look and shrug, “Not like IQ 187 smart but he could definitely hold a conversation with you.”

Spencer murmurs, pulling you in so you're chest to chest, “This entire time, you were really trying to make us friends?”

You nod, your expression a mix of giddiness and hope that makes whatever feelings he felt before, the confusion and―yes, fine―the jealousy, dissolve like sugar in water. Spencer sinks into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your soap. Of course you had good intentions. Of course you wanted to do something nice for him.

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

Spencer huffs, “I hope you realize how much I suffered the past few weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then yes, we’re good,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

“And?”

His brow furrows and he pulls back, meeting your eyes. “And what?”

“Will you try to be friends?” You look at him expectantly.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, a definitive no on his tongue, but then you’re giving him puppy-dog eyes and before he realizes it, “Okay.”

Wait, no. That is not what he meant to say.

“Yeah!” You throw your arms around him, and Spencer can’t stop you, grunting as you basically swing him around like a rag doll. But he finds he doesn’t care when you set him back down because you’re happy, happy for him, grinning ear to ear as you babble, “I can already tell you two are gonna be the best of friends! You guys have so much to talk about, all that nerdy stuff. Maybe even debate! And we could play chess and―”

There’s a knock and you both turn, a voice muffled by the door, “Hey, guys? I don’t want to interrupt in case you’re boning, but you didn’t exactly tell me where to wait for you? God, I hope you guys aren’t boning. Please tell me you’re not boning right now.”

You groan, “No Intern, we’re not boning! Right-uh-go ahead and meet me back at the office, I’ll be right with you.” You turn back to Spencer, sending him an apologetic look. “I will see you later, okay? And since you’ve been such a patient and understanding partner,” You plant him one last kiss before patting his cheek, and his eyes widen as your voice lowers in the way you know drives him crazy, your eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ll make it up to once we get home. Bye, love you!”

Before Spencer can fully register your words, you're out the door, cackling as you leave him to compose himself, his face beet red from running the possibilities. By the time he emerges from the break room, you’re long gone.

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer almost snarls, cursing under his breath. Just when he thought the day was getting better. He turns back.

Intern stands tall, relaxed and shoulders back, black tie loose and cheap white-collar button up slightly wrinkled. No doubt from working hard and following your instructions throughout the day. Spencer respects the work ethic at least. Meanwhile, the younger man eyes him, and he’s certain it’s not from intimidation but with curiosity.

Spencer doesn’t linger on that. He’s used to it, not being intimidating to others.

He continues, “It’s nice to finally talk to you, one on one I mean. I’m a fan of your work. Seven degrees, huh?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says curtly. Recalling the earlier conversation with you, he stamps down his irritation and tries to extend an olive branch. “How did you know?”

“It’s the internet, sir,” Intern raises an eyebrow, offering an innocent smile.

“Right,” Spencer returns it with an awkward one of his own, “Hey, sorry for... literally kicking you out before. That was completely unprofessional.”

Intern waves him off, “No, it’s cool. I totally get it. I’m flattered, by the way.”

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

“Well, it’s not everyday you find out your superior’s jealous of you.”

Spencer blinks, and it takes all his experience as a profiler to mask his embarrassment. “You heard that.”

“The FBI’s got thin walls,” Intern shrugs and steps towards him. “Although I have to say, Agent (Your Last Name) is wrong about one thing.” Stopping short in front of him, for the first time Spencer is close enough to note the moles dotting his face. “They can’t tell that I’m flirting with them.”

He starts down the hall after you, and Spencer’s eyes trail after him as his brow furrows, until realization slams into him and his jaw drops. “Wait, you...”

“Oh and since (Your Last Name) wants us to be friends, I think we could be on a first-name basis,” He pauses to look back at Spencer, watching with a crooked smile as the older man sputters.

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

Then once again, Spencer is left behind, frozen in the hallway as he processes what just happened.

And the next time he finds you and Special Agent Stilinski in the same room, whether it’s crowded or not, Spencer does not hesitate to cling to your side, putting as much distance between the intern and you as he can. Spencer’s grateful you don’t question it.

There may not be anyone else for you, but that doesn’t mean no one will try.

―

AN: ahhhhh thanks anon!! There was a similar request then i saw this tiktok (and listened to this tiktok the entire time) and i combined them. Id also like to emphasize that my version of reader is neutral across the board, race, gender, etc.

Yes, i have a type. No, i will not be taking criticism.

Been hella overwhelmed with classes and work so here’s my way of destressing. Also suggest checking those tiktoks if you wanna understand me :))) also you mean to tell me i have to write the threesome myself?? Bs tbh 😔

watched 15x4 and i was so sad when Spencer addressed Luke as his coworker like no bitch hes your new bro stfu

and i have no doubt that stiles and spencer would be one of the best crossover duos given the chance

#spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg fic #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

All Men Have Limits - VIII

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,600+

Warning: Mention of sexual assault

Previously on…

“Going along with this plan seems rather unlike you,” Tim finally pointed out to Bruce.

It was the two younger boys and Bruce sitting in the cave.

“Without her help, we would have never been able to get the evidence we need to take down The Court of Owls,” Bruce sighed as he looked up at the screens.

“Yeah, but like you said before, we never use our own as bait,” Tim countered.

“Y/N knows what she’s doing.”

Tim and Damian shared a look.

“Are you certain things have not gone too personal, father?” Damian finally asked.

The personal question finally forced Bruce to tear his eyes away from the screens and look at his son.

His gaze shifted between Tim and Damian. From their looks alone, Bruce realized that his feelings towards Y/N were not as subtle and secret as he wanted.

But Bruce knew better than to answer Damian.

The boy had never been invested in his father’s personal relationships before. Why did he have to start now? And with Y/N?

“What happens if things go south?” Tim challenged.

But Damian answered for his father. “You know he has a plan B and C, Drake. He always does, even if he doesn’t share it.”

Bruce was not about to have a conversation about his love and sex life with his two youngest sons. So, he thought of something to escape and he thought of it fast.

He stood up quickly and faced them. “Mandatory family dinner. Tonight.”

“What!?” Damian screamed in outrage.

“I don’t want to,” Tim whined like a baby, even though he was very much a young man standing at the ripe age of 19.

“Mandatory,” Bruce repeated solidly before leaving the cave.

Damian and Tim shared a look.

“This is your fault,” Tim accused.

“How is it my fault?”

“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut about the sexual tension we’re all choking on in this damn mansion!”

“But you don’t disagree. You’ve noticed it as well.”

“I was a little late to the game, but yes,” Tim admitted.

“She’s not like the other ones,” Damian muttered so quietly that Tim almost missed it.

“No, she’s not,” Tim confirmed.

——————

Bruce was slightly surprised to find Y/N sitting at the outdoor pool, reading a book.

She wasn’t in a bathing suit – just shorts and a t-shirt.

Bruce walked over with his hands in the pocket of his slacks.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re starting to like it here.”

She looked up from her book with a smirk. “For the record, I still think we should ‘eat the rich.’”

Bruce smirked. “Right. Of course.”

Y/N eyed him. “Did you need something?”

“Are you sure about this?”

Of course he was coming to try and talk her out of the plan once again.

“Bruce, I’m not changing my mind.”

“Figured you would say that.”

Y/N could see his mind racing. It was obvious he hadn’t stopped thinking about everything that could wrong with. Bruce needed control. And even if he was going into an inevitably dangerous situation, he always had multiple plans to get out alive. Y/N’s involvement made it harder for him to do that.

“Careful,” she warned him playfully, “It’s starting to look like you’re worried about me.”

“I am,” he retorted.

Her amusement vanished. “I didn’t think you worried. Or got scared.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you had realized by now that both of those things happen when you’re involved.”

She didn’t know how to respond that. She really didn’t.

“I also came out here to tell you we’re having a family dinner tonight.” Yes, Dick and Tim were basically living at the manor while they handled this specific case. But it was rare that the whole family ate together. All the boys would come back from patrol at different times. Alfred usually made something and put each of their meals in the oven or fridge for when they got back.

But Bruce made a habit of having mandatory family dinners. They weren’t frequent. And the boys often viewed them as some sort of punishment. But Bruce saw it as a way to remind them all that they were a family. A chaotic and a strange one, but they were still a family.

“It would be nice if you could join us,” Bruce added politely.

Y/N smiled at how obvious it was that he was choosing his words carefully. “It was really hard for you to not me tell what to do, wasn’t it?”

He narrowed his gaze at her from being caught.

She never seemed to miss an opportunity to tease him.

“Yes. I’ll join you.”

Bruce nodded, clearly pleased with her answer.

“Will you miss it?” Bruce surprised her by asking as he looked around at the exterior of the manor, looking almost lost in thought.

“It’s a home,” Y/N sighed. “And even with all the secrets and dark pasts, it’s still filled with happy memories, too. And a family.”

Then she smirked. “Even if it’s a highly dysfunctional one,” she added teasingly.

“Not sure all the boys would agree with you on that.”

“Are you sure about that?” Y/N challenged.

———————

Y/N walked out of her bedroom right as Dick was dragging Damian down the hallway.

“Come on. It’s never as bad as you think it’s gonna be,” Dick tried to tell the boy.

“Why did Todd come? He never comes to family dinner. He doesn’t even see us as his family.”

Dick smirked. “You and I both know that’s not true, no matter how many times he tries to convince everyone – even himself.”

Then both of them noticed Y/N’s presence in the hallway.

“You look pretty,” Dick complimented.

Y/N looked down at her outfit and shrugged. “Figured I could make a bit more of an effort.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Damian huffed before leaving the two of them behind.

Y/N and Dick both laughed lightly at his attitude.

“I’ve never told you how good you are with him,” she thought aloud.

“I don’t know about that…”

Y/N turned to him with an insistent look. “You are. Sometimes I think he listens to you more than Bruce. He looks up to you. I think it’s because…” her words die out.

“What? What you were going to say?”

Y/N still hesitated, but told him anyway. “I think it’s because you’re more available to him…emotionally, I mean.”

“Sometimes I feel like I have to talk to him the same way I do with Bruce. He’s a younger carbon copy of the guy. Just brattier.” Dick sighed. “Deep down, Damian has a good heart and he cares deeply about the people in his life. He’ll just never admit it.”

Y/N nodded.

It did sound like Bruce.

But Y/N never considered Dick would have a similar impact on Bruce that he also had with Damian. She wondered what Bruce would be like today if he had never taken in an orphaned Richard Grayson.

Sometimes Y/N believed Bruce would be completely devoid of any and all emotions if it hadn’t been for an adolescent Dick. His needs and wants as a child had prevented Bruce from turning completely into a callous vigilante with nothing tying him to his own humanity and life.

Y/N was about to continue her walk to the dining room, but Dick softly grabbed her arm.

“Hey, before we walking into the chaos…” Dick cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure we’re okay after the other night.” He shifted his weight and looked at the ground. “If I was too forward or I misread something or–”

“Dick?” Y/N interrupted with a smug look.

His head shot up to look at her. “Yeah?”

She had a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Then she moved into Dick’s space, closing the distance between their bodies and did not stop until they could feel each other’s body heat.

Y/N tipped her head as if she was about to kiss him.

But her lips stopped just a centimeter or two from his.

Dick’s eyes turned menacing once he realized she was messing with him.

“Yes,” Y/N whispered seductively, “we’re okay.”

Then she slipped away quickly and started walking away without him.

“That was cruel!” Dick called after her.

But her only response was her laugher from down the hall.

Dick shook his head, but couldn’t stop his smiling.

Maybe it was avoidance or a distraction from the reality of their relationship. But Y/N couldn’t deny that it was also fun.

—

Dinner was in the formal dining room of the manor. This was the first time Y/N had even stepped foot in the room. The fireplace was even lit. Even when Wayne Manor was hardly trying, it reminded Y/N how out of place she was. “If I have to sit through this bullshit, you’re sitting next to me,” Jason said from behind Y/N, making her jump.

To her horror, Jason pulled out a seat at the head of the table. Two at each end and then two chairs in the middle on both sides.

“Oh, I don’t think–” Y/N stuttered out in panic.

“You’re the guest,” Jason cut her off and gently pushed in the chair when he finally got her to sit.

Damian was already sitting to the right, closer to the other head of the table– probably to be closer to his father.

Jason sat down to the left of Y/N. And when Dick finally caught up to her, he didn’t question Y/N sitting at the head and sat to the right of her.

“Perfect. You’re like our future step mom,” Jason declared.

Damian snickered, despite hating to laugh at Jason’s joke.

But Y/N looked horrified. She was about to jump up and take the remaining middle seat on the other side of Jason. But Tim’s timing was absolutely horrendous.

“Please switch spots with me,” Y/N leaned forward and hissed at Dick.

He smirked. “Absolutely not.”

When he saw her obvious panic, he leaned forward as well and whispered, “That’s payback for earlier.”

Y/N glared at him and huffed.

“Oh, I’m so glad I came,” Jason sighed.

Bruce walked into the room with his head held high. “Tim, no phones. You know better.”

Tim sighed in annoyance but slipped his phone into his back pocket.

Dick leaned to Y/N. “Bruce has a strict ‘no electronics’ rule for family dinners. Phones are forbidden.”

Y/N nodded, even though she would never be so rude as to bring a phone to dinner, especially when she was a guest and this was a literal “manor.”

Somehow Jason had pulled a bottle of red wine from nowhere. Or maybe it had been sitting on the table and Y/N had just missed it.

And Jason had already grabbed Y/N’s glass and gave her a heavy pour. “But drinking is highly encouraged,” he added with a crooked smile.

Y/N barely let him finish pouring before she grabbed the wine and chugged.

When she put the glass back down, Bruce was watching her carefully. She at least had enough shame to sink lower in her chair and give him an apologetic look.

But Bruce was amused more than anything.

He’d never brought a woman to a family dinner like this. And though the situation was not that straightforward, it was still causing him a weird amount of anxiety.

“How are your lessons going, Damian?” Bruce broke the tension with the question.

Damian muttered off what sounded like rehearsed and generic statements about his personal studies.

“I didn’t even know he went to school,” Y/N muttered to Dick as Damian and Bruce talked.

“He doesn’t. He’s technically homeschooled,” Jason answered first. “Which is total bullshit seeing as all of us were forced to go to Gotham Academy with all the spoiled brats of the city.”

“As if it mattered, you died before you were forced to graduate from the stupid establishment,” Damian commented darkly.

Jason beamed and laughed lightly at the comment.

But Dick, Tim, and Y/N all froze and looked to Bruce.

They all knew it was a sensitive topic.

Bruce was clearly trying his hardest not to scold them all night. So he just took in a deep, shaky breath.

“Why get your GED or drop out of high school when you can just get murdered?” Jason offered with enthusiasm.

“Jason,” Y/N warned lowly when she saw the pained look on Bruce’s face that he was trying so hard to hide.

Jason’s death still haunted Bruce and riddled him with guilt – despite the miracle of him being resurrected. Y/N probably knew that more than any of the boys. Maybe only Dick really shared that understanding.

“You’re right,” Jason agreed. “Tonight’s not about me. You’re the guest, Y/N. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got caught in her throat when she felt everyone’s eyes on her.

This was not how she imagined tonight going.

But Alfred – her savior – interrupted with the first course of soup and salad.

Everyone was momentarily distracted with the food.

Y/N hoped it stayed that way.

“Who taught you how to hack?” Damian piped up.

Y/N relaxed at that particular question. “No one. I taught myself.”

“Where’s your family?” Tim asked innocently.

Y/N flipped through all the possible lies she could tell, deciding to go with the one that would lead to the least amount of follow-up questions. And it wasn’t a lie at all.

“We’re estranged,” Y/N mumbled without looking up from her food.

“Parents are overrated,” Jason commented with a smirk.

Dick and Bruce glared at him.

However, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with Jason.

Little did she know that Jason could relate to her upbringing far more than anyone else at the table. Their childhood’s were parallel. Ones neither of them deserved.

Tim instantly felt guilty for asking an uncomfortable question without realizing it.

“Y/N is not here to be interrogated,” Bruce warned the table.

“Well, why don’t you tell us about her, B?” Jason answered. “How exactly did you two meet again?”

Bruce narrowed his gaze. He knew what game this was. The more emotion and reaction he showed, the more it would encourage Jason to continue with such antics. “We worked on a case together a couple years ago,” was all Bruce supplied.

“More like she threatened you into working with her,” Dick mumbled as he tried to hide his smirk by licking his lips.

Y/N kicked him under the table.

“So, Y/N, have you always had a thing for older men?” Jason asked.

She gave him a death glare.

“Jason, come on.” Dick cautioned.

“I mean, you of all people should be curious, Dickie.”

Everyone went quiet.

Jason rolled his eyes and looked around the table. “Oh. Are we all pretending there’s not a weird love triangle going on?”

“I didn’t realize my sex life was up for discussion tonight,” Y/N mumbled.

But it wasn’t just sex was it?

“Why don’t we all go around the table and share!?” Jason suggested loudly. “Dick, you first. What’s your number?”

“Jason that is enough.” Bruce grunted.

But Y/N had it with Jason’s pot stirring and she wasn’t going to let Bruce fight her battles for her.

She snapped her head in Jason’s direction. “I hope you don’t have a sex tape laying around, because I will sell that shit to PornHub faster than you can jerk off,” she threatened.

The words slipped out of Y/N’s mouth so quickly that she had momentarily forgotten that a literal child was also sitting at the dinner table.

Her hand slammed over her mouth and her eyes widened in shock.

Jason threw his head back with laughter. This was exactly the chaos he was trying to start.

Her eyes whipped to Damian with horror as she blurted out, “I am so sorry!"

“Please, I know what fornication is,” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m not so innocent. After all, I was conceived from my mother drugging my father and forcing coitus onto him.”

“I also slept with said mother,” Jason chimed in.

Tim made a disgusted gag noise.

Dick rubbed his face in exhaustion. Y/N’s jaw dropped at this new information.

But when she looked to Bruce, he wouldn’t meet her stare, only further proving it was all true.

This was no laughing matter.

Yet the whole family seemed desensitized by the subject.

Y/N was processing that Bruce had gone through such an assault – and by the mother of his only biological son, nonetheless. “Can Jonathan come over soon for a sleepover, father?” Damian suddenly asked.

The subject change was like whiplash on the entire table.

Y/N couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t just move past what she found out like that.

“I don’t see why not,” Bruce answered.

Clearly he was grateful for his son’s short attention span and his inability to read the room and realize he’d said something entirely inappropriate for the situation.

But Y/N could also see the subtle happiness in Bruce’s eyes from his son asking him such a question. And for that split second, this felt like a normal family.

“Who’s Jonathan?” Y/N asked Dick quietly.

She was trying to follow Bruce’s lead and move on.

“Superman’s son,” Dick provided.

“And literally Damian’s only friend,” Jason added.

“I heard that!” Damian shouted.

“I meant you to!”

“Put that knife down, Damian.” Bruce warned. “What have I told you?”

Damian lowered his head in shame. “The knives at the dinner table are for eating, and are not to be used as weapons under any circumstance.”

The table suddenly erupted into various conversations. Tim started talking Wayne Enterprises business with Bruce. Damian and Jason were shooting insults at each other. Alfred brought in another course.

Dick and Y/N shared a moment.

She sighed, realizing that the worst of it was probably over now.

‘Sorry,’ Dick mouthed to her.

‘It’s OK,’ she mouthed back.

The dinner continue with filet mignon, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, mushroom bordelaise, and – thankfully – more wine.

Maybe Jason had helped them all in a way by airing out all their dirty laundry immediately and getting it over with so they could move on.

But as Y/N looked around the table, listening to the boys and Bruce talk, she realized that maybe – just maybe – she didn’t want to leave.

—

Alfred put all the boys to work cleaning the dishes after dinner.

But he refused to allow Y/N to help. Once a guest always a guest.

Alfred handed Y/N a fresh glass of wine and told her to wait in the drawing room and that he’d bring dessert within the hour.

Y/N knew better than to argue with him and did as she was told.

There was a roaring fire in the room, pulling her to it.

“Please don’t take anything Jason said personally,” Bruce said from behind her.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. “He loves to start drama. That’s for fucking sure.”

“He’s constantly trying to get back at me. You weren’t his target. I was. But I apologize that you were caught in the crossfire.”

She turned away from the fireplace to face him.

Her eyes were heartbroken and worried.

“You never told me about…” she hesitated, “about Damian’s mother. I-I had no idea.”

“I try not to speak of it. No matter what happened in the past, Talia is still Damian’s mother.”

“But she still–”

“I’m fine,” Bruce cut her off. “Really, Y/N. I came to terms with it long ago.”

He was irritated, but too preoccupied with comforting Y/N to face the dark truth of how Damian was conceived.

“Well, if you need to ta–”

“I know, Y/N. Thank you.”

Their moment was interrupted by the boys trampling in the drawing room.

Dick had Damian thrown over his shoulder as the boy screamed insults at both Tim and Jason. Clearly Dick was preventing a full-on brawl from errupting.

The bickering and teasing continued but wasn’t anywhere near as awkward or stressful as it was at dinner. Perhaps all the glasses of wine Y/N had were helping with that. She decided to simply sit back and watch the Wayne family.

Eventually it hit Damian’s bed time. Bruce insisted on tucking his son into bed.

Jason took their leave as his cue to leave the manor.

Tim went up to his own room. Except they all knew it wasn’t to sleep, but to get back to work and not stop until he was utterly exhausted.

The drawing room turned relaxing as Dick and Y/N were the only two who remained.

“You survived,” Dick pointed out with a chuckle.

“I did,” Y/N answered with a light laugh.

Dick let a moment pass before he asked, “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your parents?”

She sighed, knowing Dick was going to bring this up at some point.

“Because I don’t tell anyone about them.”

“You told Bruce,” he countered.

Her brow furrowed. “And how do you know that?”

Dick at least looked guilty for answering, “He told me.”

She glared at him. “So is that what you two do now? You talk about me with each other? Swap notes?”

“Course not. But don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical getting mad about it?”

“Hypocritical?” She shot back.

“Yeah, hypocritical. You did a background check on every single member of this family. You know my entire past. You know every woman I’ve been connected to in my life. But the moment I know something about you, it’s not OK?”

“As if you wouldn’t offer that info freely if I asked…”

“That’s exactly my point, Y/N.” Dick sounded exasperated. “I’m trying to get to know you. I’m really trying. But now I know you’ve done it before. So I’m asking you to trust me enough to do it again.”

“It’s not that simple,” Y/N mumbled before walking out of the room.

Dick let out a groan of frustration and rubbed his face.

That definitely could’ve gone better.

But Y/N’s night wasn’t free of the Wayne men yet.

Just before reaching her bedroom door, Bruce crossed her path.

“Hey!” She snapped at him. “My past isn’t something for you to announce to whoever the fuck you want.”

“Y/N, that’s–”

“Save it,” Y/N snapped before he could get a word in. “Whatever broody and cryptic bullshit you’re about to spew…just…save it, k?”

And with that, Y/N slammed her bedroom door shut.

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

Part 9

A/N: I know a lot of people really hate the Talia/Bruce sexual assualt storyline. But that was the version of Damian’s conception that I was most familiar with. I didn’t want to make light of it, because we all know male victims of sexual assault are not taken seriously – and that’s fucked up. But I also didn’t want to linger on it too long since it’s such a disliked plot point

Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!! Pretty, pretty please. 😔

#all men have limits #all men have limits part 8 #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #bruce wayne x reader x dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #dick Grayson x reader x Bruce Wayne #batfam #batboys #batman x reader #nightwing x reader

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outpost-31 · 2 years ago

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wow atlas posting ocs? that's rare

it's hot as balls outside and I'm dying so take some jojos ocs. part 5. ask me things about them, mutuals. I love them. please. please. (chanting)

this is a thick packed-full post so it's under the cut. no art though sorry I just need to write them down somewhere

Just a group of losers that's It. Not called on often, but they deal with situations regarding debts/negotiations in certain cities. Several also work as paid mercenaries or informants for missions regarding Passione's members and their personal grudges. it has nothing to do with the boss, its not an order (and possibly not allowed), they're just in it for cash and reputation.

I like making lists. this isnt even adequate writing about them theyre interesting i promise ihave so much stuff but im just trying to dump the basics as a collective so i dont forget

_______

Malvolio " Attore " Di Maggio

- 20, 6'1" (185 cm). Afro-Latino (Venezuelan)

- Agender (He/They) + Bi and Demiromantic

- Aloof, very blunt when he speaks. Honestly, kind of an asshole. Not even in an edgy bad boy way, hes just a cunt. He does it on purpose to drive people off, because he's horrible at getting close to people and doesn't want them hurt.

- His only role on his team is as a hired mercenary; he refuses to help with anything else due to personal goal, and the fact he joined the team for something " peaceful. " The only other people he'll go on assignments with are Breve and, reluctantly, Maledetta. He also refuses to accept the term ' assassin.'

- Smoker.

- Saddled with so much regret it could kill just about 5 grown men. In desperate need of counseling.

- exploding everybody who interacts with him in his mind constantly

- Tends to go off on his own. Absent from collective meetings often, takes lone jobs constantly, etc etc. He cares about everybody else, but he doesn't consider himself one of them and isolates on instinct (get therapy)

- Surprisingly great with kids. Breve is the only one he speaks more than a few sparse sentences to, and is actually kind with them. The mandated babysitter

- Ruthless in battle. Lacks any sympathy for just about anybody he faces off against, which enables his stand to be so horrifying without any guilt. He also carries eternal grudges. But, he's not an extremely violent person- in that aspect he's actually pretty average. More bark than bite apart from his vendetta.

- His stand, My Fairy King (after the Queen song), is.. Interesting, to say the least. much like Moody Blues, it's a manifestation of his crippling guilt. However, it's in a much more offensive way than the passive effect of that stand. Its power enables him to (metaphorically) enter your head and abuse your greatest fears, warping them into debilitating flashbacks and spectres that are near indistinguishable from reality. This makes fighting him quite difficult, though it is combatable. The drawback, however, is that using it can start to affect him too- triggering him into his own flashbacks if he isn't careful. Typically, with several opponents or overuse

Personality Muse: Yotsuyu Yagiyama, Oyecomova, Risotto Nero (jesus christ, man )

Playlist

_______

Raffaela " Felice " Gelli:

- 22, 5'10" (177 cm). White Italian.

- Cis Woman (She/Her) + Lesbian

- Deaf

- Very dependable and laid-back. Chill, fun, non-judgmental- etc. etc. She tries her Damnedest to not adhere to strict rules (tending to include the law itself) and promotes a very carefree attitude, making her excellent with most people. Even Attore. Her leadership skills are just awful, though, so she more tags along on assignments than accepts them on her own.

- That doesn't mean she isn't incredibly dangerous. She just masks it under layers of serenity.

- Works mostly as an informant, since the job is at her comfort level. She's beyond capable of other tasks, and has even tagged along with Ruscello on a few jobs, but its because of preference over ability. Plus, she's probably the most capable.

- The information she can dig up because of her childhood is unbelievable. She could doxx your entire extended family and your dog within the hour.

- Incapable of cooking. You know the Dubious Food from botw. yeah

- Has never sent a formal email in her life.

- Her stand, Rain Dogs (after the Tom Waits song) reflects her carefree ideology and urge to bring that freedom to others by being an essential support stand; with touch, it is able to manipulate near any chemical in the human body- though, at different levels, and depending entirely on emotional strength. She can't heal wounds, exactly, but her stand has a habit of clinging to shoulders during fights and pumping endorphins. It can also be incredibly dangerous, if used correctly, since an overload of anything can be deadly. The drawback is its fragility.

- (Not a unique concept, by any stretch, but one that reflects her well. Is it similar to even atleast 1 semi-canon stand? yes? thats intentional. )

Personality Muse: Gyro Zeppeli, Karera Sakunami, Guido Mista

Playlist

_______

Chisaka " Breve " Hiraoka

- 14, 4'8" (142 cm). Japanese-Indian

- Genderfluid (any pronouns) + Unlabeled

- The only natural-born stand user in the group, Breve manifested their stand before ever joining Passione. As such, they've had quite a bit of time to harness and refine its ability, despite being so young

- Selective mute and a pit of repressed emotions. This child is a ticking time bomb. They're very polite in interactions and resilient despite their situation, but due to their upbringing, tend to be incapable of letting themself show any sign of emotion without guilt. Their eyes and face are constantly devoid of emotion to a worrying degree.

- They work mostly as a debt collector and assassin alongside Attore, as he's the only person in the group they feel genuinely comfortable around. Like an older sibling, as they never had one.

- If you read their mind it would be this specific scream as loud as possible near constantly. Their face is calm but their mind is sobbing and punching holes in walls

- Very knowledgeable about illegal dealings, their workings, and the art of blackmail/manipulation due to being born in a family that was.. Well-versed in that knowledge.. If they hadn't been shipped off to Italy, they'd be considered an heir

- Their stand, Dear Prudence (after the Siouxsie and the Banshees version specifically), is honed and refined to a deadly perfection. While bound to their body, and meant for defense, they have manipulated it into something more dangerous with their creativity. They're able to cloak themselves with layers of invisible shields, radiating outward from their body much like a suit or bubble. They arent indestructible, but become stronger with environmental conditions such as heat- allowing them to tank atleast one harsh blow and retaliate. They repair themselves quite quickly, though not instantaneously- and, can be used to inflict extreme damage with physical blows. If one were to strike and shatter on your jaw, it wouldn't be pretty

- While this means that for function, their stand requires knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, that isnt any problem for them. Getting your shit rocked by a 14 year old would be humiliating, but it's about fate for anybody who crosses them. Not to say they're invincible, but they're.. Definitely a small target

Personality Muse: doesn't really have one. Kei Nijimura, outwardly, if anything.

Playlist

_______

Tederich " Pallottola " Altomare

- 30, 5'11" (180 cm). German-Mexican

- Trans Man (He/Him) + Gay and Asexual

- Literally just some guy

- Collects framed insects. He seems especially fond of moths and mantises.

- Very serious and maybe even a bit dull, but he's quite caring. He is incredibly strict with himself and takes his role very seriously- he's highly protective of those around him, with a surprising tolerance for extremely debilitating and stressful situations. His climb into this position wasn't exactly merciful, though. His eyes are too full of sorrow to look at for long

- Designated leader and mentor of the team. Like Maledetta, he is quite adaptable, and takes on any available role- usually as a guide for others present. He prefers to be an informant.

- His Stand, Bullet With Butterfly Wings (after the Smashing Pumpkins song) is an object that takes the form of a small, red-tinted glass vial. Small enough to comfortably hide in your palm. The dark liquid inside seems to regenerate infinitely on a timed cycle- this liquid can be applied onto anything via any method (ingesting, splashing..), and will immediately harden into a tough crystalline substance when it latches onto a person or object.

It has to be solid, however. in liquids it remains suspended.

In this instant, it is able to immediately affect the stability of anything; person, or object. Physical or even mental, and it's effect will last until it is scraped from your body or the affected area

- While this doesn't exactly seem special, it can turn battles in his favor, even if a bit dangerous. Crumbling buildings allowing for escape and cover, immediately unbalanced or distressed enemies giving him an edge in combat, etc.. It doesn't seem like much, but his potential for creativity is.. Unmatched. He's previously used it in ways comparable to a poison, hiding the substance in drinks and simply allowing those he wants gone to succumb to asphyxiation from the sudden cluster of crystals forming on the inside of their throat blocking their airway.

Personality Muse: Weather Report, (part 4) Jotaro Kujo, Bruno Bucciarati. Due to about one trait each, but it's not nothing. he's barely like them, actually.

Playlist

_______

Thorello " Ruscello " Abadie

- 20, 5'8" ( 172 cm).... French

- Cis Man (He/Him) + Bi

- So debilitatingly anxious and paranoid that he's constantly checking behind him and scanning his surroundings. Alone, in public, with friends..

- His upbringing was essentially in a horror movie " suspicious sheltered town with ominous spooky things going on. " Residual panic from that and the town's beliefs. He thinks they're hunting him. Whether or not they are is up for debate

- Nail-Biter

- Only wears tight clothing because it makes him feel.. safe. The compression is comforting for him

- Debt-Collector. His stand can be. Surprisingly good for torture?

- His stand, Sex & Candy (after the Marcy Playground song), is automatic, ranged, and highly protective. Like most automatic stands, it is fairly simple, but ruthless. If anything the user considers a threat enters within 10 meters, Sex & Candy will activate and automatically begin to home in on them- though, slowly. While it has no strength to speak of, forcing Ruscello to defend himself, once it touches you.. It's not exactly a problem. It turns any being it comes in contact with incorporeal, unable to interact with anything or anyone but the stand itself, and this effect remains for as long as you remain in range- and, if you remain within that range while incoporeal for too long, it will begin to permanently dematerialize your body: beginning with fingers and toes. However, this process is slow (but painful) and takes atleast 5 minutes of exposure to the 10- meter span. This makes fighting him require alot of creativity, or a long-ranged power of your own.

Personality Muse: Pannacotta Fugo, Rykiel. I don't know, man

Playlist

_______

Xaviera " Maledetta " Cavalli

- 23, 5'6" (167 cm). White Italian

- Cis Woman (She/Her) + Lesbian

- Used to be a serial robber (and more! alot more!)

- " Oh she's a little bit fucked up actually. "

- Crazed. Obsessed. The whole deal. She's awful at getting along with people, and simply joined the team for sanctuary from the consequences of her.. Horrible horrible actions

- The most diverse of the team when it comes down to jobs. She takes on nearly every role depending on what they need, and takes a strange joy in seeing the cash it brings in even if the task involves the harm of others (which, it usually does).

- Her stand, Everlong (after the Foo Fighters Song), is long-range and is another with a humanoid appearance. It's abilities vary, but all seem to revolve around inflicting harm- in increasingly worse ways. Its physical power isn't too impressive, but if it manages to land a hit, it can become devastating quickly. While this doesn't apply to wounds from its fists, if the stand manages to cut you with any of the sharp barbs on its body, the wound begins to slowly spread outward from the source. This keeps it from closing, and can be especially dangerous due to these barbs also inflicting an anticoagulant affect on the victim. With no blood clotting, and a quickly spreading wound.. Defeating her or exiting her range, or simply lasting the time before it wears off, causes the anticoagulant to wear off. The wounds stay

- Uncommonly, her stand is one with its own sentience; and, thankfully, it seems kinder than Maledetta herself- almost pitying those she fights. Stupidly, the 2 get into frequent arguments. It's clearly anoyed by her arrogance, but follows orders regardless

Personality Muse: Yukako Yamagishi, Gwess, Terunosuke Miyamoto (yikes. not because of teru though.)

Playlist

#WOW thats alot #mutuals please ask me about them im begging you. i have way more ocs but i think about this group the most. i need to talk about them #also for them i refused to go with the part 5 food names im sorry. they go by alias(s) though which is close enough #no art to go with this because i cant get their designs to look right rn. tripping and falling #jjba ocs #rambles #also here this is how I'm posting the playlists #I PROMISE THEYRE MORE INTERESTING AND IN DEPTH THAN THEY LOOK ITS JUST BASIC INFORMATION

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newswcanonprompts · 4 years ago

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Anakin is sent to negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt bc of the success of the Jabba mission (no one in the Council knows Gardulla used to own him)

editor’s note: there is actually a fic that came from this, by the lovely @primeemeraldheiress! here is the link

this one is SUPER angsty, sorry in advance, i missed the original conversation about this prompt and when i got back online everyone was yelling about it, when i read what they did i was in *shock*. like ow. anyways have fun

After being so helpful in rescuing Jabba the Hutt's son, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up being sent on a mission to help Gardulla the Hutt because Anakin hasn't told anyone about his history with her

Possible reactions from Gardulla:

"Skywalker? I owned a human like that, her brat always caused trouble. Good riddance!"

What if she decides that since he's back in her territory that means he belongs to her again

.....gardulla hears him try to call obi-wan master and tries to buy anakin from him (Gardulla asking if obi-wan is anakin's master and anakin being in such a messed up mental space that he says yes, trusting that Obi-wan won’t let her buy him)

Obi-Wan wondering why Anakin is being so specifically arsey with this Hutt. "Force you're worse with her than you were with Jabba."

"Oh yeah, she bought me and my mother. I think I have a reason to dislike her."

The council meeting afterwards where obi-wan rails on the council...

Obi-Wan suddenly getting a horrible feeling whenever Anakin calls him master because he's known the contexts were different but now it is real and in his face

Like it's a different thing for Obi-Wan to know his padawan used to be a slave compared to looking his padawan's former master in the eye and seeing her current slaves.

Anakin manages to control himself in the throne room but the whole way there and back he can't help worrying that one of the really old lash scars that curls around his shoulder will be noticed, that his identity as a former slave will be exposed

anakin not being able to call obi-wan master on tatooine like. point blank. he starts addressing him as master and just. flinches.

anakin usually wears his heart on his sleeves right?? always shows his emotions, feelings, all that. Well, the closer they get to gardulla's palace the blanker his face gets

Ahsoka calls Anakin master and Anakin just grits out a "Please don't call me that, not here."

Obi-Wan suddenly realising why Anakin comes across as arrogant as times. He's spent his entire life trying to up his value because there's safety in value.

Anakin telling them not to use the name "Skywalker" while they're in the palace

Anakin's accent shifts so entirely to the point where it almost sounds like Obi-Wan's because he's so determined to not slip into old roles

Anakin having to be physically held back from getting into a physical fight. Not even using his lightsaber, he just wants to fight

Or, alternatively, all the fight just going out of Anakin because he knows, here, it'll just make everything worse. So he's almost.... compliant and it freaks everyone out

Ex. from @youngcreativenerdgoddess: Obi-Wan is terrified. His former padawan is the most resigned he’s ever been. He looks so....defeated. A look one would never expect on the vaunted “Hero with no fear”. All the fight was gone from him, and that scared him more than anything else in this force-damned war had.

Obi-Wan actually being the one about to lose his temper and then Anakin just puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him there's no point.

Consider: instead of anakin being angry he was sent on the mission, being resigned because of course he was, he knew Gardulla bes

Anakin comes across as an almost perfect Jedi for once in his life and in the context it is horrifying

Anakin’s report to the council is so matter of fact because he thought they knowingly sent him on the mission because of his past experience with Gardulla

Obi-Wan finds Anakin writing what he thinks is a CV then he sees the numbers next to it and it is his estimated value--"for the gardulla mission, if she finds out who I am she'll try to rebuy me"

After the mission, from @jasontoddiefor: "Failed you, we have," Yoda said, his voice full of grief, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin only titled his head, for once looking his age and not the years the war has aged him.

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

Examples of bits and pieces from this prompt:

Ex. from jasontodiefor: Anakin in the corner of her palace having a breakdown because he remembers memories he had thought gone, his mother's shouting and the tearful begging and the pain, pain, pain and he hadn't meant to break the vase, it had been an accident, please stop it hurts, Mom-

jasontodiefor: "A game of chance."

"What?"

Anakin doesn't look up from his hands, doesn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He hadn't since they'd arrived here. "I'd still be here like them if not for a game of chance. I'd be worth more than just a few credits too. Force-sensitive, young, good with mechanics, pretty-"

Ex. from Ro: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin this silent before. There were nights before, when they were both younger, Obi-Wan himself still trying to heal from Qui-Gon's death and Anakin trying to get used to the temple. And Anakin would get quiet, but he was never this stone cold silent. Never this blank. He's so emotional, Obi-Wan's former padawan (his child), so open with his heart on his sleeve. There is none of that here, none of that bright boy. Anakin doesn't fight it, and that is the thing that worries Obi-Wan the most, because when Anakin doesn't like something he fights, he lashes out with teeth and sticks his heels in. But in this, he is resigned. (Anakin doesn't let Ashoka off the ship. She fights and argues but Anakin doesn't move, doesn't joke. He stands firm with it and Obi-Wan watches.

"Master, I—"

Anakin flinches, "You're staying on the ship, Ahsoka, that's final." She huffs and leaves, and the only thing Obi-Wan can see is how relieved Anakin looks. There is something wrong here, but Anakin has never liked talking about Tatooine, and Obi-Wan has never pushed.) Obi-Wan has never hated a mission more.

Another ex from jasontodiefor: "But-"

"You're young," Anakin interrupts her sharply. Ahsoka hates it when he cuts her off. It doesn't happen too often, mostly on the battlefield when he's barking orders at everyone. If anything, he lets her speak out of tune more often than he should or other Masters would, but right now his voice doesn't leave any room for agreement. "Young, underage actually, and female, that's the first 10K. Extra five if they don't sell you as inexperienced, and only stupid slavers would do that, but as a virgin."

Ahsoka pales. Anakin's voice is harsh, but there is an almost easy flow to his words, as if he had recited them in his head over and over again. "Force sensitive, that's next. Another 8K regularly, but you're a Jedi, so that's 20K. A Padawan, mind you, but you're a known face next to mine and Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan would fetch 40 for his status as a Jedi and councilor alone. And you're a Togruta, you sell better than a human girl. I'd add another 6 for that."

You sell better. Not you would, there's nothing hypothetical about this, Ahsoka realizes. Anakin's narrowing down what would happen to her if somebody just managed to grab her lightsabers, to put a collar around her throat and cut her off from all that she had ever known. "Now, that's just your base value," Anakin continues. "You're also a pretty good mechanic and pilot, though the latter makes your flight risk much higher. Given how dangerous you are, let's say 10K. You're a strong fighter, so you could probably get another 8K in the arena, perhaps a little more depending on what planet you're sold on. Your political value also can't be overlooked. You fight at the front and know much more about the war effort as a whole and that's worth much more, probably another 15." Anakin holds up his fingers like he's counting apples and now how much people would be willing to brand her as theirs. "So we're roughly at 70. That's not bad at all. Not as much as Obi-Wan or I would get, but it's more than enough. You're not coming on this mission. End of discussion."

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garrothromeave · 4 years ago

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mcd garroth + laurance headcanons for the sake of me posting something while working on my long-ass post, also happy birthday blaze ily,

garroth - total momma’s boy. seems obvious, but it’s true -- back in o’khasis, he was practically glued to the side of zianna. whenever she had to leave for a few days when he was younger, he’d cry if he couldn’t go with her. when he left for the guard academy, he wrote to zianna on a daily basis. to put it simply, he had separation anxiety. the hardest thing about faking his death was not being able to see or talk to his mother. - incredible piano player. his father made him take lessons when he was younger for quite a few years, but he was naturally very good at it. he never mentions this skill to anyone. while they were at malachi’s castle and were looking for materials before they left, garroth stumbled upon an old piano and played something. he got really into it, and laurance ended up stumbling on him playing. he made laurance swear to never tell anyone about it. - when garroth was around eight or nine, his stutter was so bad that garte didn’t let him speak in public or around any people other than the family out of shame. vylad and zianna used to help garroth with his stutter.

- garroth is very sensitive to the saying “oh my irene.” growing up in the ro’meave house, it was taboo to use irene’s name in vein. or anywhere in o’khasis, really. nowadays he’s still very caustious whenever he says it, because he thinks that someone is going to yell at him. - horrified of getting hurt. back during the days of training in the guard academy, while he was very good with technique and fighting itself, he had a very bad flinching problem. overall, for the longest time, wounds and pain made garroth very uncomfortable. because of this fear of getting hurt, he has a bit of a stubble because of the one time he hurt himself while shaving. - 6′4, because 6′11 is unbelievably tall and i honestly don’t even think that it’s canon? s’yeah. he seems 6′4 to me.

- garroth often sees new things and (internally) has this very child-like wonder response. he was sheltered for the entirety of his childhood and teenagehood. and after the guard academy, he stayed put in the same village for 5 years -- so he hasn’t experienced very much. he often wants to ask dozens of questions, but because of his shyness, he tends to just observe anything new very closely. which leads me to my next headcanon,

- because of o’khasis’ intolerance to many things, he was not very commonly exposed to magick’s users. the first magicks user that he directly met would be zoey, and he was very nervous when talking to her the first time he met her. when garroth gets to know her more, she catches on that he’s curious about a lot of things, and offers to tell him about things. he declines, and he regrets that decision to this day.

- as stated before, o’khasis isn’t very tolerable of things, which caused garroth to develop incredibly bad internalized homophobia. when aphmau comes along, he gets a very strong desire to protect her (little do we know, this strong desire comes from his connection with esmund) and confuses it for/tries to convince himself that it’s romantic love. it is in fact love, just platonic. so basically, this man’s gay as hell.

- garroth has more freckles than any other ro’meave family member. he’s mildly insecure about his freckles, seeing them as a ‘childish’ trait, which is why he wasn’t very bothered with the idea of hiding his face with his helmet.

- his hair is super curly. it used to be more tame, but as he got older, it got more curly. it’s usually a mess because he doesn’t know how to take care of it, but it somehow looks hot as hell. (no homo ofc.)

- garroth is allergic to blueberries.

- raven was garroth’s first genuine connection since he left o’khasis. zenix was his second. he loves raven a lot, and hates that he can’t see him as often as he’d like to.

- garroth is a total cat person. don’t get me wrong, he loves dogs, but if he were to choose between having one or the other, he’d choose to have a cat. he had a pet cat when he was little that he still thinks about a lot. (probably named sprinkles, just for the hell of it.)

- because of how he grew up, garroth’s actually a very picky eater. while he’d never admit it to himself or anyone else, he misses the more “rich-people” food he was spoiled with.

- garroth isn’t actually that stupid, when he first arrived at pheonix drop, he had a name in mind that he wanted to go by (to better hide his identity). however, when his name was asked by someone, he panicked and “garroth” accidently slipped. he beat himself up for the longest time after that. the only reason he finally let go is because no one had ever pointed out how/seemed suspicious he had the same name as the deceased first-born son of o’khasis.

laurance - his hair grows decently quick, so even after cadenza cut it for him, it only took about 4 months for it to grow back just past his shoulders. he prefers it having some length to it anyways, and usually ties is back into a ponytail. after the irene dimension, he would let nekoette braid his hair. - has a very lanky body type. naturally has long limbs, and would often get called a ‘stick’ when he was younger. he’s about 5′11. but don’t confuse his thinner stature for weakness, he matches garroth’s strength easily.

- bi icon. fuck that “you were my first kiss” bullshit he gives aphmau, the list exists and while it’s stupid and weird, according to it, garroth was his first kiss. which is fuckin funny as hell if you think about it.

- laurance is very good with animals. more so rodents and smaller creatures, like squirrels, birds, rabbits, etc. cadenza was convinced that laurance could talk to animals for the longest time. he even had this little mouse that would pop in his house. however, on the contrary, larger animals -- not so much. he’s shit with horses and cows, especially.

- incredible singer. has serenaded aphmau on multiple occasions, and has even gotten her to sing along with him from time to time. he sang for malachi to help him fall asleep every night since the day they met him. this caused him to start singing for levin at night as well. when laurance saw malachi again after the 15 year jump, within the first few days of his return, malachi asked for laurance to sing for him again just like he used to. which brings me to my next headacanon,

- laurance saw malachi as his own child, and treated him as such. they were very close, and malachi was the most heartbroken over laurance’s disappearance since he saw him very much as a father. it wasn’t that laurance favored malachi over levin that created this bond, it was the fact that laurance first-hand saw a child in need of a home and someone to love him, and it reminded him of when he was small.

- he’s a sucker for bets. gambles, wages, anything like that. while he’s not directly a gambler, if someone offers he’s sure to accept. he’s a risk-taker, and ends up getting really into it. this also branches into his competitive behavior. he’ll be really upset and possibly a bit petty if he loses. why else do you think he still hadn’t given castor the 5 dollars he owes him?

- slingshot master. you give this motherfucker a slingshot he can kill someone with his impeccable aim. he’s also very good with a bow and arrow or any sort of projectile, but he’s the best with a slingshot. when he was younger, he hand-made slingshots from materials that he’d find around the forest.

- speaking of the forest, laurance is a very nature-loving soul. when he moved to meteli when he was adopted, he’d often go and explore the forests nearby. he and cadenza would use their imaginations and play all sorts of games. laurance and her especially loved to climb trees, and would jump from branch to branch. this helped laurance become very flexible. this is also how he met sasha, she was sitting in his favorite tree one day and they just hit it off from there.

- after he was rescued from the nether, laurance frequently had nightmares that would lead into sleep paralysis episodes. the first time it happened garroth had been looking over him (since this was around the time when laurance first got back and garroth had allowed aphmau to go do her lord tasks while he watched over him) and when he had the ability to move and speak again, he started freaking out. garroth had to calm him down and assure laurance that he’d talk to zoey about what happened. garroth and zoey are the only ones that know of laurance’s sleep paralysis, mainly because he didn’t want to worry aphmau or anyone else. zoey often gave him ways to cope with it. it didn’t happen every night, but it did occur at least 5-6 times a month. his sleep paralysis stopped the moment he entered the nether for the second time.

- the first time laurance heard he’d made the list for the jury of nine, he felt honoured. when he was oblivious to how corrupt it was, he saw it as a huge opportunity. after learning about it’s true nature, he was still glad that he’d made the list -- because him being on the list prevented another person from risking being on the list and being chosen to be apart of the jury.

- yes, laurance can cook very will in this universe as well. it’s not that he was taught, it’s more that he can look at ingredients and just throw them together to make great combinations. zoey also taught him a few things.

- laurance does not know his real birthday. malachi does not remember his. since cadenza had “given” laurance a birthday, he offered to let malachi share his unofficial birthday with him. malachi accepted.

garroth + laurance

- laurance began referring to garroth as “pretty boy” after seeing his face. he continued to call him that for the first month of their friendship. garroth hated it, and that’s the only reason laurance eventually stopped.

- laurance and garroth are both very good story tellers, but after one incident where garroth was telling levin and malachi a story, he started stumbling a bit over his words and couldn’t articulate correctly, so laurance picked it up and continued it. from there, they took turns with the story and occasionally interrupted one another to add a detail or plot point, and after that, malachi refused to listen to garroth or laurance separately when telling stories, because their collective minds came up with the most fascinating shit.

- garroth isn’t the best at coming up with insults because he’s simply too nice, but laurance loves to make fun of garroth (in good fun, of course). however, there is one thing that garroth could hold over laurance; and that was their height difference. whenever laurance would mess with him, garroth would just bring up height to piss laurance off.

- when laurance regained his sight, him and garroth sparred very often. that’s when garroth realized how much strength laurance actually had, since he’d originally underestimated him. laurance, in all honesty, was equally surprised. their spars were pretty evenly matched.

- while these two are best friends, the amount of arguments they’ve had is insane. most of them were light-hearted and were more so disagreements, but sometimes things escalated and would result in yelling. that’s because laurance always took it a step too far. that, or garroth would try to disregard what they were talking about, which only made laurance more heated. but they’re both incredibly quick to forgive each other. once they had a really bad argument and didn’t talk for an entire hour afterwards, but once they saw each other again it was like they’d never fought.

- since garroth grew up with everything and laurance often had to hunt and shit, garroth wasn’t amazing at it. laurance found out, originally teased garroth, but gave him tips and took him out and taught him how to hunt. garroth’s still shit at it when he does it alone, but when he does it with laurance he’s pretty decent.

- garroth doesn’t drink. laurance does. laurance once tried to convince garroth to drink, but he refused -- which laurance respected, but garroth had to deal with drunk laurance for the rest of the night at the guard station. he learned things that he really wish he hadn’t that night.

---

i had more for garroth and laurance’s relationship, but uh, i don’t really have time to write them down, so take these for now! i hope y’all enjoy them as much as i did writing them :]

#minecraft diaries #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvhal #aphmau

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years ago

Text

When the Chips are Down

Part 6

masterlist

hello, my darlings. I am on a posting streak apparently. Please enjoy the the reunion and confrontation we have all been waiting for--- chaotic puff

Y/N held her tongue for the rest of the day, choosing instead to remain cold and detached as Namjoon tried to establish himself in her good graces again, as if he had ever been there to begin with. He didn’t seem to understand that though. He was immensely pleased with himself under the false impression that she was jealous because of his dalliances while she was gone. If anything, he was the jealous one. You couldn’t be jealous if you didn’t care, and unlike her feelings for him, Namjoon cared immensely for her, however twisted and demented those feelings were.

The day passed in relative peace after their midday confrontation, and slowly her first day back at the estate blended into her second. Miss In and Namjoon still tried to get her to eat breakfast, and she relented, eating a few pieces of melon along with a cup of green tea. Though she did have to sit through a lecture from Namjoon on how she should be careful with her caffeine intake. Eventually she snapped, reminding him that green tea had far less caffeine than a cup of coffee, and he left her alone after that.

She was able to enjoy her morning in peace after that, retreating to the piano room to avoid Namjoon’s hovering. The room hadn’t changed at all in her absence. It was clean, evidence that it had been cared for while she was gone, though she doubted that Miss In would have left any corner of the house in disarray, but it was otherwise untouched.

Thankfully it still seemed that the promise that this room was to be her sanctuary remained in place, and Namjoon left her alone. That didn’t mean that she was left completely undisturbed though. Miss In would pop in at regular intervals to see how she was doing, to bring her water or tea, to ask if she needed anything. It was far less annoying than Namjoon’s hovering, but it wasn’t quite the peace that she wanted. It was the best she was going to get though.

Eventually Namjoon himself came knocking on her door, pulling her attention from the book she’d distracted herself with.

“I have a surprise for you, jagi.” he informed her, smiling sweetly, an expression she didn’t trust at all, but she got up and followed him regardless.

He led her to the living room, a room that neither of them used very often which only heightened her confusion.

Hoseok was there, and with him was a woman, a woman who was achingly familiar.

“Iyla” Y/N’s voice was soft, shaking as she stared at the woman before her. How was she here? Why was she here?

“Y/N.” There was a pause before both women rushed to each other colliding and falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs as they clung to each other.

“Oh god no.” Y/N whispered tearfully gently stroking her baby sister’s hair. “What are you doing here, Iya? You shouldn’t be here, baby.”

“You never came home, and Jackosn stopped calling. Oh god, Y/N. Jackson is… he’s dead!”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok and Namjoon stood back watching the two carefully. Both were ready to intervene if needed. Iyla was a wild child, and Namjoon didn’t want any unnecessary stress on Y/N or the baby. But both women seemed to be content to stay wrapped in each other’s arms shaking and crying on the ground.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to…”

“Shhhh,” The older of the sisters hushed holding the other more tightly. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” She promised even though she didn’t quite believe it herself. She pulled back carefully examining her sister’s face looking for any sin of stress or injury. “You’re okay? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m okay.” Iyla promised burying her face in her sister’s neck again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Iya.”

Y/N rested her cheek on Iyla’s head gently rocking them side to side as they held onto each other. This was the last place she ever wanted to see her little sister, but she at least looked healthy and unharmed.

Namjoon was vigilant as he watched the two women. Y/N was still newly home. She was tired and overly stressed already, as much as he hated to admit it. Being home was stressful for her. He was stressful for her. She’d settle with time. He was sure of that, but or now she was stressed, and as soon as she figured out that Iyla was now Hoseok’s woman, all hell would break loose which wouldn’t be good for the baby. Stress wasn’t good for the baby.

“Oh.”

Both men tensed at the pained sound ready to jump in.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Iyla pulled back eyes darting over her sister’s form.

“I’m fine.” Y/N hissed settling a hand on her belly. “They just like to kick.”

“Oh.” Iyla’s gaze zeroed in on her belly. “You’re huge.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You look like a whale.”

“That’s what happens when you’re pregnant.” A soft sweet smile spread across her face as she watched her sister fuss over her.

As worried as Namjoon was it was interesting to see his wife interact with her sister, and seeing them side by side he could see just how much they looked alike. They had the same eyes, the same hair, the same nose. Iyla was taller, not by much probably only an inch or two at most, but taller. To the untrained eye they could have been mistaken for twins, but the difference in hairstyles provided an easy out for distinguishing between the two. Iyla’s hair was long trailing down her back while Y/N had cut off most of her hair while she was gone. It hung in a shaggy pixie cut that had clearly been grown out from an even shorter cut.

Namjoon still wasn’t sure what to think about the change in her hair. It was cute in its own way, but it wasn’t whatNamjoon preferred on her. It would grow out in time. Just like everything else in their lives, it would go back to normal. Everything had to go back to normal. He needed it to be normal, and so did she even if she didn’t quite realise it yet. Everything would be better when they were back to normal.

Things wouldn’t be back to normal for a while though. Namjoon wasn’t blind to the amount of work that needed to be done between them. Their relationship had always been tenuous at best, but it had deteriorated spectacularly before her escape. They needed to work on it. He wanted his wife. He wanted a stable family for their baby. Right now, he had neither.

Namjoon was pulled from his thoughts as another pained groan filled the air. In a flash he was by her side, pulling her up from her position on the floor much to both women’s protests.

“Y/N!” Iyla cried lunging for her sister only to be caught around the waist by Hoseok.

“I think it’s time to go. Y/N needs to rest.” Namjoon declared keeping a firm hold around her.

“I’ll take Iyla home.”

“Home? What do you mean home? Where are you taking her?” Y/N was growing more distressed by the minute, and Hoseok was quick to drag Iyla to the door as Namjoon dragged Y/N deeper into the house. “Where are you taking her?”

“They’re just going home, jagi. It’s okay.” Namjoon cooed trying to sooth her and failing.

“No! She’s supposed to be with me! Where are they going?”

“She’s exactly where she needs to be, jagi.”

“How can you let him take her away?” She cried pulling against Namjoon’s hold forcing him to swing her up into his arms to get her up the stairs.

“They’re engaged. Of course He’d take her home. She’s perfectly safe, jagi. I promise.”

Y/N froze in his arms as they reached the top of the stairs, and he carefully set her down. “What do you mean engaged?”

“Jagi…”

“Kim Namjoon!” She barked whirling around to face him. “What do you mean engaged?”

“Jagiya, you need to calm down. Stress isn’t good for the baby or for you.”

“How could my baby sister be engaged to Hoseok?”

Namjoon was no stranger to her fury, but even he was concerned by the venom in her tone.

“Jagiya, why don’t you sit down. I’ll have Miss In bring some tea…”

“Why is my sister engaged to Hoseok?” She stood firm glaring up at him with a hand resting protectively on her belly.

“Jagi…”

“Answer the damn question, Namjoon.” She paused waiting for a response only to find Namjoon’s tired and worried gaze. There wasn’t even a hint of remorse in his eyes. “Oh god…” She breathed out as the horrifying realisation set in. “You gave my baby sister to Hoseok didn’t you?” Still no response, there was only a horrible damning silence that filled the space between them. “You gave my baby sister to Hoseok!”

“Jagiya, I really think you should sit down.”

“How could you? How could you do that to my sister?”

Namjoon was firm but gentle as he pulled her into his office forcing her to sit down. “I need you to calm down, jagi. Think of the baby.”

“I always think of the baby!” She snarled even though she remained seated. “But I also have to think of my sister who you just gave away like chattel!”

Namjoon scoffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I didn’t even know you had a sister until Hoseok brought her here from GOT7’s headquarters. Any other secrets I should know about, jagiya?”

“I was trying to protect her.”

Namjoon paused in his pacing to level her with a stern look. “I don’t take kindly to lies, jagi.”

“I don’t take kindly to kidnapping.” She shot back. “Figlio di puttana.” She spat under her breath cursing the day that Namjoon was born.

“What was that?” Namjoon asked sharply.

A sweet smile spread across her lips. “Vaffanculo!”

“I may not speak Italian, but I still know when you’re swearing, jagi.”

“Vaffanculo.” She repeated slowly drawing out every syllable of the word still with that seemingly innocent smile fixed across her features.

“Jagi!”

“You kidnapped my sister and killed my brother, and you’re yelling at me for swearing?” She quirked a brow. “Is that really the issue right now?”

“You’re sister came to Korea on her own, and Jackson ignored the terms of the agreement.”

Y/ scoffed rolling her eyes. “Did Iyla come knocking on your door? And it wasn’t Jackson’s plan. It was Mark’s.” She watched Namjoon freeze in his pacing, shoulders tensed. “I called him. Jackson was only trying to help fix the mess you made.”

“The mess I made? You ran away with our baby!”

“You forced yourself on me!” She snapped back eyes flashing dangerously. “You tattooed your name on my shoulder! And this was all after you kidnapped me and blackmailed me into marriage! So yes, I would call this your mess.”

She wasn’t blind to the hurt that flashed across his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. After every terrible thing he’d put her through, she just couldn't bring herself to care about his feelings. She shouldn’t be the only one suffering in this sham of a relationship.

“Jagiya…” He took a step towards her, soft and pleading, but she was in no mood to placate him.

“Have you ever once stopped to consider the consequences of your actions? Or do you simply not care? You have ruined my life, and now you’ve ruined Iyla’s life too.”

“We have a beautiful life…”

“You have a beautiful life!” she snarled. “You got everything you wanted, but I’m trapped here, with you, and now you’ve sentenced my sister to the same fate.”

“Jagi… Y/N.”

“I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose you, but now I’m stuck with you just like Iyla is going to be stuck with Hoseok.” she huffed struggling to stand up, and Namjoon was instantly at her side ready to help her up only to be harshly pushed away by the irate woman. “Don’t touch me!”

“Let me help you, jagiya.”

“I don’t want your help!”

“Sit down!” he thundered, sending her a withering glare. “You’re stressing yourself out, and I won’t have any harm come to you and the baby!”

“Then you should have left us in Italy.”

Namjoon surged forward burying his fingers in her short locks and forcing her to meet his eye as he loomed over her. “I will never let you go. You are mine, my wife. This baby is mine.”

“Get off me!” she harshly pushed him away pushing herself up with some difficulty. “Get the fuck away from me.” she spat moving to the other end of the room where his desk sat.

“Y/N…”

“What did you expect?” she laughed eyes wild as she stared at him from across the room. “Did you think we were going to be a happy family?” she asked throwing a paper weight at him. “After everything you’ve done?” Next came a picture frame that had been situated on his desk, a photo from their wedding.

“Jagiya.” He held up his hands defensively. “You need to calm down.”

“No.” she snapped, throwing another picture frame. “No.” she repeated more softly, looking away her chest heaving. “You have ruined me, and I will never forgive you for that.” Namjoon wanted nothing more than to go to her, to hold her, but even he knew that it would be a bad idea in this instance. She was worked up enough without him trying to touch her. “I tried. I tried to accept this and be a good wife, and look where it got me. You have taken everything.”

“Things will be different this time. We’ll be different. We have the baby…”

“My baby deserves more than this hellhole. I deserve more than this.”

“We had a deal, Y/N.” He reminded her softly voice deep and calm even though he wanted nothing more than to shake her by the shoulders and yell. “I’m not the one who broke our deal.”

“Well it looks like we’re both shitty people then.” She scoffed arms crossed over her belly.

“I can’t undo the past, Y/N.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down. “And I won’t let you go.” She scoffed again shaking with the rage and deep set hurt that had been festering since he’d first taken her. “Why don’t we make a new deal?”

“What?”

“A new deal.” he proposed taking a tentative step towards her, scared to upset her anymore than she already was and cautious of any more flying objects. “We make a new deal, one to suit us both.”

“And why should I believe that this one would be any better than the last?”

“We’ve both made mistakes, jagi. Let me try to make up for them.” He pleaded slowly getting closer to her. “For both our sakes. For the baby.”

“You’re despicable.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I love you, and I love our child.”

“What we have isn’t love.” She laughed running a hand through her hair. “I hate you. I hate you more than any other being on the entire planet. And I don’t know what you feel, but it isn’t love.”

“I love you.” He repeated earnestly taking a few more steps towards her. “And you’re my wife whether you like it or not. We’ll have to make this work, because I have no intention of ever letting you go again.”

She grimaced in pain, a hand flying down to her belly. Namjoon was instantly by her side supporting her and leading her to his desk chair to help her sit down.

“What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“I… I don’t know.” She whimpered as another flash of pain seared through her abdomen.

“I’m calling the doctor. Just stay here, okay?” She nodded far too focused on the pain in her belly to care what he was doing.

“Miss In!” he bellowed down the hallway, and quick as a whip the older lady appeared with a worried frown on her normally composed face. “Call the doctor. Tell her Mrs. Kim is experiencing pains in her belly. Call Seokjin as well.”

“Yes, sajangnim.” She bowed. “I’ll bring some tea for her as well.” She bowed again hurrying out of the room.

“Tell the doctor to hurry!” Namjoon ordered kneeling beside Y/N worriedly looking over her.

“Yes, sajangnim.”

“What is it?” Namjoon asked again one hand cradling her belly and the other gently pressed against her back as she hunched over in pain. “What can I do?”

“I… I don’t….” She hissed curling in on herself more as another pain ripped through her.

Namjoon nodded to himself before scooping her up in his arms and swiftly carrying her to the bedroom. The doctor was on the way, but for now the best he could do was to make her more comfortable. Hopefully lying down would help, and hopefully she wasn’t in labor. The baby wasn’t due for another few weeks or so.

“It’s alright, jagi. It’s going to be alright.” he promised gently setting her down on their bed. “The doctor is on the way.”

“Is the baby okay?” She whimpered clutching her belly.

“The baby is fine.” he assured her, climbing onto the bed with her and cradling her in his arms. “You’re both going to be fine.”

part 7

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silversatoru · 4 years ago

Text

the thin line between hope and despair

yelena x gn! reader

synopsis: you’re in love with yelena, and she feels nothing for for you. constant hook-ups and faded morals = very messy feelings

tags/warnings: nsfw, some smut?, angst, unrequited love, one-sided feelings, fuck buddies

word count: 2.5k

a/n: for my my sweet bby girl @brandmeyelena <3

Yelena knows what she’s doing with you isn’t right — on so many fucking levels. Taking advantage of your utter desperation for her over and over again when she knows damn well that she couldn’t care less about you. It wasn’t fair, especially for you, but she just couldn’t really find it in herself to feel sorry for someone so pitiful. You were so willing to devote yourself to her in exchange for mere crumbs of her affection, and it was pathetic. You left a sour taste in her mouth, a taste of sorrow and complete wretchedness, but you were also the perfect distraction. The perfect relief from all of her stress and all of her responsibilities with the volunteers. She was tired, and you were just so damn desperate to make her feel better — so how could she refuse? The answer was simple, she couldn’t.

That exact thought process is what landed her here today, with her fingers around your throat and your eyes rolled back into your head. She knows you love it too, being used like this — the way your cheeks grow flushed and your eyes get foggy when she cuts off the circulation to your brain. But she doesn’t do it for you — Yelena enjoys these things just as much as you do, her power hungry ego being fervently stroked by dominating you like this. Pinning you underneath of her and giving you orders made her feel in control — and that was perfect, because god knows she isn’t in control of anything else in her life right now.

Get down, she’d hiss at you, pointing to the floor with her long, slender index finger. Your pathetic frame would sink to your knees instantly, wordlessly doting to her every command. She’d lean back on her shoulders, her hips propped on the edge of the bed, and give you an expectant look. You know what to do. Do it, her voice would snarl, her empty eyes swirling with hunger. You’d feverishly obey, launching yourself forward and graciously opening your mouth for her pussy. You were dedicated to your craft, taking your time and ensuring that your tongue consumed every inch of her. Yelena’s head would fall back and, raspy, wet noises gurgled from her throat. She was entirely consumed by this twisted bliss — and she was a horrible monster for letting you do these things to her, but she felt far too good to care.

So now here you were, your tongue buried deep inside her while you worked desperately to make her feel better. She was quieter than usual today — the only things to leave her lips were small groans and half-assed insults. Things like the occasional “faster” while she pulled your hair, or “stupid slut” when you weren’t doing things quite right. The slander only made you work harder however, and honestly anything that came out of the blonde woman’s mouth was music to your ears. You stared up at her with rose-colored glasses, living in a delusional world where you truly believed Yelena cared about you.

It was a dreadfully fucked up dynamic — this relationship the two of you had, if it could even be called that. One of you lived in a terrible fantasy of what could be and the other was practically incapable of feeling human emotions. It was truly only a matter of time before the world started burning around the two of you.

A very short matter of time.

Yelena was spasming underneath of you now, warm juices and shaky convulsions racking through her body and into your mouth. You drove your tongue deep against her contracting walls, your eyes squeezed shut. A disgustingly sticky mixture of her fluids and your own saliva dripped down your chin as you finally pulled away, a bitter taste hanging on your tongue.

And Yelena was always quick to leave, she never stuck around any longer than she had to. She came, she came, and then she’d pull shitty excuses out of her ass as to why she needed to leave so soon. Those reasons more often than not consisted of one person — Zeke Yeager. Whether or not there was something romantic between the two, or if she was just highly devoted to him, you could never tell. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know, honestly, because the answer might just break your heart.

Why don’t you stay tonight, Lena? You looked over at her as she pulled her trousers up her long, gangly legs. You craved something deeper with her, something more than just occasional casual sex — but it was really too bad that she didnt reciprocate those feelings at all. Sorry, there's a meeting tonight. I have to go. She’d respond, her voice dull as she carelessly brushed you off and slipped on her boots.

Will Zeke be there? Your voice always got low when you talked about him, but you made intentional efforts to hide the jealousy in your tone. Of course he’ll be there, he is the leader, she’d state dully as if this was obvious, and maybe it was, but it still made your chest ache.

You spend a lot of time with him lately, even outside of meetings, you’d state your observations out loud for the first time. Confrontation wasn’t something you enjoyed, and you certainly weren’t any good at explaining your feelings either. But your heart was starting to nag you lately, and you needed to voice your opinions before it was too late.

We’re preparing for a war, her eyes grew incredibly narrow, try not to make such selfish accusations right now. The words were like daggers of guilt stabbing between your ribs. Yelena had a way with words — a shiny silver tongue that always made you believe what she said without a doubt. You started to believe that you were being selfish — after all the war was very real and Yelena was very involved, that's probably all it was.

You’re right, I’m sorry. I just wish you were around more. Your voice was much quieter now, shame and remorse churning in your stomach -- maybe you would have been better off not saying anything at all.

We’re busy. You have to understand where I’m coming from here. It’s hard for me to make time right now, she’d continue to spew nonsense into your impressionable ears. She didn’t like that you were starting to question her, not at all. She’d say whatever you needed to hear to keep you around at this point — she didn’t plan on losing her little fuck-toy anytime soon. If you needed a little affection to keep you complacent, then she’d just need to put on a little show for you.

Come here, I’m sorry, her tone grew softer, but not at all sincere. You helplessly sunk into her spindly arms, and she pulled you tight to her chest. Just hold on until after the war, okay? Once we make the world a better place, we can do whatever you want.

More false hope, false promises, and false reassurance. The war would be brutal, you’d probably die at some point in a terrible event of collateral damage. You’d die and then Yelena would never need to fulfil her empty promises -- it was that easy, and you’d never know the difference.

That sounds nice, you’d smile, your heart warming at the idea of living in a free world with Yelena by your side. You fell ignorantly for her words, missing every single warning sign and every single red flag. Maybe if you’d noticed the subtle darkness in her eyes, the strain in her tone, or the way she hugged you a little too roughly, you could have saved yourself from the ensuing heartbreak. Or maybe if you had realized that with you being a scout and her being a follower of Zeke, it was unlikely that the two of you would ever work out. But you stupidly refused to consider any of these things, and it was going to cost you your heart.

That fateful memory was a few months ago, and now the both of you were in Marley, anxiously waiting for Eren’s plan to unfold. You were partnered with your friend Connie, his lips twisting into a thin line as the two of you hid in the shadows on top of an industrial building. You were incredibly capable with your 3dm gear, and even more capable with the new gun technology, but you were practically useless with your head in its current state. You watched the streets with fervent eyes, dashing them up and down nearby alleyways and hoping for any sign of Yelena. The attack hadn’t even started yet, but not knowing her whereabouts made you incredibly uneasy. She was probably wherever Zeke was, of course, but you liked to think that wherever she was, she was worried about you too.

Yelena was hiding in plain sight, dressed in a traditional Marleyan Army uniform with fake facial hair wrapped around her chin. She did as she was ordered, trapping two of the titan shifters in a large hole and then retreating back to her position. She was focused solely on her task, and on Zeke and how she could ensure his safety, and honestly, the thought of you hadn’t crossed her mind once tonight.

When Eren’s attack came, it came suddenly and violently -- and it was like nothing you’ve ever seen before, or at least not since the colossal and armored titans attacked so many years ago. Before you could even take in the horrifying scene in front of you, Connie was grabbing your hand and ushering you to run, the two of you taking off with your 3dm gear. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering as your body swung through the air, frantically searching the streets for the tall, blonde woman who owned your heart. But maybe you should have paid less attention to finding her, and more attention to where you were going.

Connie’s shrill scream shook you to your core, and at first you didn’t even notice the array of guns pointed right at the two of you. A group of Marleyan soldiers were lined up atop a building, every single nozzle of their firearms preparing to shoot at you and Connie. Your friend shot his gear downwards, swooping underneath the scope of the guns and shouting at you to follow him. And you tried, you really did, but you were horribly distracted and accidentally shot your gear into the very edge of a building. The hook crumbled the corner of the building and was unable to secure itself, sending you hurling to the ground beneath you. Your breath was wiped clean from your chest as you smacked against the ground, dust and dirt filling your lungs. Connie was forced to swing up onto a higher building, narrowly avoiding the bullets and unable to come down after you. Your bones ached as you peeled yourself off the ground, looking up just to see pieces of rubble hurling towards you. What the FUCK, Eren? You silently cursed out that irresponsible titan boy, scrambling to avoid the giant chunks of building that were quickly getting closer.

You thought you’d made it, your heart beat gushing in your ears as you launched yourself towards another building, only to be knocked back down by a slab of broken concrete. Pained yelps squeezed out from your throat as your body fell helplessly back to the ground. This fall did a number on you, your ears ringing and your head pounding with a dull pain. The large piece of rubble had crashed into one of your legs, rendering your leg immobile and absolutely crushing your gear. Connie couldn’t help you, not when saving you guaranteed his own demise — you needed to do this on your own, unless-

“Yelena!” You called out to the towering woman who was stumbling towards you. Her arm was wrapped around an injured Zeke, and she was working hard to carry him to safety. Levi must have rocked his shit again, you’d have to thank him for that if you made it out of this alive.

Yelena stopped momentarily when she saw your mangled leg, but not even an ounce of concern crossed her determined face. She looked you up and down, and then glanced down at Zeke as if she was weighing her options.

“I’m sorry,” She shot you a horribly unsypathetic look, dragging her gaze away from you and hurrying off with the injured blonde boy.

It was so simple, so short, and there wasn't the smallest hint of remorse in her voice. Your brain couldn’t process how easy it was for her to leave you there, your mouth hanging open in a small “o”. You would give your life for Yelena, and she didn’t even blink when you were faced with certain death — and that’s when it all started to set in. The delusional facade that you’d imagined between the two of you was shattering, small pieces of glass memories crashing and crumbling around you. The cruel owner of your pitiful heart felt nothing for you, and it had taken this long for you to finally realize.

All of the days and nights the two of you spent entangled in each other's arms had meant nothing. All of the time you spent with your lips locked against hers and her large hands caressing your body had been devoid of anything more than lust for her. Terrible embarrassment washed up inside of you as you recalled all of the sinful things you did for this cold-hearted, unfeeling woman.

Your motivation to fight was gone, your eyes locked onto Yelena’s tall figure as she ran further away and out of view. She’d picked Zeke over you again, she always did, and she always would. She practically worshiped him, like he was some kind of fucked up, twisted god. You weren’t sure why you ever thought you could compete with that.

In the midst of your complete breakdown, a firm arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into the air. Connie had come back for you, cold air stinging your face as the two of you shot up to the safety of a tall, nearby building.

“Fuck, y/n, stop being so careless! And I hope you’ll finally give up on that lanky bitch after she walked right past you like that,” he let out an exasperated breath, slumping behind a large brick wall.

“Sorry… thank you,” you mumbled, “You really shouldn’t have risked your life like that”.

“No, but that’s what people are supposed to do when they care about each other. Is it finally sinking in, that she's been using you for the past year? I tried to tell you so many time-,” He continued to ramble on in frustration.

Every one of his words poured salt into your already burning wounds, tears beginning to leak from your eyes. Yelena didn’t care about you, she never did — she’d never even sacrificed time for you, never mind compromising her or Zeke’s safety for you. And you were stupidly ignorant to ever think that she saw you as more than a toy she used to pass the time.

#yelena #yelena angst #yelena attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #yelena x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan angst

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

I’ve noticed a shortage of yan! Shoto :0 Whilst Kiri is my absolute fave, Todoroki needs some love too! Could I request some Yan! Shoto being absolutely touch starved and obsessed with a sweet, loving, motherly and smol reader? (it can be nsfw if you so wish!) Thank you!! (Btw, I love reading your stories, it’s a blessing in my day, even just looking at your shitposts/memes. And if you ever want to talk, jus say so. I hope you have a good day!! 🥺💞) - Sugar Anon 🧚‍♀️

Sugar anon! That is such a cute identifier and I hope to see you in my asks again!! Hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking!!!

It’s a very good concept btw cause like mhm him getting completely overwhelmed and overstimulated during diddly times cause he’s never had anyone be intimate with him.

Like moaning and his cheeks are flushed and oh

(Y/N) is a new doctor at Shouto’s agency in charge of patching him up between missions and basically being his doctor. Shouto likes her gentle hands and soft touches, lets himself get a bit more scraped up then he would normally. He’s just so touch starved and she’s so motherly and its such an intimate setting and he’s never had feelings like this before and he doesn’t know what to do.

Has yandere tendencies but tries to squash them down or hide them, tries to be normal.

One day gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk, stumbles into her office and she’s immediately worried, once she figures out what’s up she tries to get out, lock him in there until someone stronger than he can come escort him home but he grabs her before she can get to the door.

He’s crying cause he’s so horny it hurts (he’s never been this aroused in his LIFE) and he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to woo her but now he’s forcing himself on her and he can’t stop his hips from moving and he’s confessing all the bad things he’s done while he’s known her and she’s absolutely horrified, traumatized.

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, very hard noncon. Aphrodisiacs (spelling?) and a low-key weird comment about Shouto’s mommy-issues at the end. Dude is so twisted and sad and touch starved.

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“Todoroki-san, I have had to patch you up six different times in two days.”

Shouto cocked his head, staring at you with his bi-colored eyes, studying your face as you tended to the wound on his shoulder. The lilt to your voice suggested you were teasing, making small talk to distract the man as you swiped a disinfectant pad over the cut. You knew what you would be expected to do when you applied for this job, knew that heros were often injured.

He had overseen the hiring process himself, his last doctor had left the agency for a job in a different country. Shouto held no hard feelings for the doctor, knew that as a hero he often got himself into trouble, needed a lot of attention and care. Not everyone could be expected to spend so much time with him, attending to his health - even if he was paying them a more-than adequate salary.

Most of the candidates had bored him when they came in for their scheduled interviews. Too many of them were looking at this position as a way to launch them into a nice comfortable position in a prestigious hospital. They seemed… uninterested, or too interested, some of the candidates invading his space when they came for a handshake, babbling about how much of a fan they were.

You weren’t like that. There was a professional distance when you shook his hand, smiling at him pleasantly as you introduced himself. Then you sat down, waited for him and his team to begin asking you questions. Shouto couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to your hands, letting himself wonder whether those hands would be the right ones for the job. You looked so delicate, at least to him, a pro-hero.

But he already liked you better than any of the other candidates.

So you were hired, on the condition that you would be on a trial period for the first two months, with halved pay. It was still far above minimum wage, but Shouto was weary of hiring seemingly-normal employees only for them to turn out to just be trying to get to know him, whatever their reasons. The trial period was for his own sanity.

Currently he was sitting in your office, perched on the edge of the exam table tucked into the corner. Today he had managed to escape his most recent fight with only a few mild scrapes and bruises, but as his doctor, you needed to make sure he was okay, clean his wounds and patch him up before letting him go home for the day. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if one of the top pro heros collapsed on the job because of a lack of medical care.

Your office was stocked with everything a doctor of your caliber could possibly need. Your “office” was really a mock hospital room, in a medium sized room located at the back of the agency. Having you on site meant that Shouto never had to bother with trips to the hospital, being swarmed by fans when he wasn’t feeling good or having someone who didn’t understand the capabilities of his quirk try to treat him.

It also meant he could relax, know that he was being taken care of. With you being so new, Shouto still had his guard up, ready for any-and-everything. So far you had been nothing but gentle.

You had hardly talked to him, other than the expected “This might sting” or “Deep breath in”. You warned him before you touched him, but otherwise were very quiet, working diligently and professionally. Shouto enjoyed it honestly, being able to step away from the buzz and hubbub of his agency and into his doctor’s office, where it was quiet and calm and peaceful.

Being with his mother had felt like this. Felt safe and refreshing and like a secret haven tucked away from the rest of the world.

Clicking you tongue, you gave the pro hero a thumbs up as you stepped back. “Alright, you’re good to go! Please be safe on your way home Todoroki-san.” Shouto nodded, a stiff smile passing his lips as he rose to his feet. You were a good doctor, always took the best care of him.

“You as well Y/N.”

——

The next visit to your office revealed that you had added a few personal touches.

A cheesy poster on the wall, directly across from the exam table, a single plant on your desk, A bowl of mini lollipops on the shelf by the door.

Cute.

Today was a short visit, just a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any cuts or wounds that he hadn’t felt, the normal questions any quirks used against him during the day. Shouto found himself wishing the visit had been longer as you gave him the all-clear, moving away from the exam table so he could stand up. Before he walked out the door, you stopped him, silently handed him a lollipop. He took it, noticing how soft your hand felt against his as he withdrew.

Shouto didn’t like sweets, but he didn’t mind accepting a lollipop from you. He could just offer it to his secretary when he passed her desk, no biggie. It was easier to do that than hurt your feelings by refusing.

Well, he knew it probably wouldn’t hurt your feelings. He just liked seeing the little twinkle in your eye when he accepted it. He assumed the lollipops were a gag, something usually given to small children for being brave at their checkups.

He wasn’t your only patient, much as he would’ve liked. His agency had several other up-and-coming heroes, and several sidekicks, and you tended to all of them. Shouto liked to think that you saved the majority of your tenderness for him.

One time he had come in while you were setting one of the sidekick’s shoulders. You had asked him to sit down in your office chair, to give you a minute so you could finish up with his coworker. Shouto had done exactly that, watching as your soft hands gripped the sidekick hard, fingers digging in.

“One, two, three.” You gave a countdown, forcefully jerking the shoulder back in place on “three”. The sidekick groaned at the pain, head shaking as if to clear his head from the intense sensation. You went over to your lollipop bowl, ignoring Shouto as he sat in your chair, returning to the sidekick to give him the sugary treat.

The sidekick sucked on the lollipop while you bandaged his arm into a sling, immobilizing it so it could heal. When you were done, you sent him on his way with a soft smile, before turning to Shouto.

“Todoroki-san, thank you for waiting. How are you feeling today?”

Todoroki moved to the exam table when you motioned for him, immediately stripping off one of the boots of his hero costume.

“Hello (Y/N), it’s good to see you. I’m feeling good, got nicked by a spike during a fight today. Luckily it hit my ankle, and it’s not very painful.”

“Mm, let’s have a look.”

You kneeled down, giving him a small warning before pulling his foot towards you, examining the tiny cut gracing his ankle. Shouto paused, closing his eyes as he relaxed at your touch. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this at-ease with another human. He didn’t know what it was about you; maybe your gentle, soft demeanor? Perhaps it was your kind touch, how you never pressed too hard and always respecting his personal space.

Even as your fingers prodded at the cut, feeling the bone underneath, Shouto felt relaxed, content. He liked being around you, being with you. Even if the two of you hardly conversed. Maybe he could change that?

“(Y/N), how have you been finding working here?”

You looked up at him, bright eyes warm and kind. Shouto felt his chest tighten. “Oh, it’s very nice Todoroki-san! I hope I’m doing a good job attending to everyone.” With a smile, you returned to his ankle, producing an alcohol wipe from seemingly nowhere.

Shouto nodded, hands gripping the edge of the exam table. “I certainly appreciate your service. You have very tender hands.” Just like his mom. When he was younger, before his scare… Shouto remembered the care his mother would give to a scraped knee or a bump on his head. The soft touch, the kindness, the gentle hands - Shouto didn’t want to insult you by comparing you to his mother, so he stayed silent.

With a start, the man realized you were beaming up at him, wrapping a bandage around his ankle. He smiled back, felt his cheeks flush a little. What was this?

“Thank you! I know how important my patient is to the world.”

Ah, yes, his job.

His job that he should probably getting back to.

Reluctantly, Shouto accepted the usual lollipop from your hands, wishing you would linger so he could feel the brush of your skin against his own.

Was he developing feelings for you?

——

It was a startling idea. Shouto never thought himself the type to have /feelings/ for someone else. When he thought of his future, it never involved another person. He didn’t want a family, didn’t want the opportunity to make the same mistakes as his father.

But as he gave the idea more thought, Shouto realized that he was feeling… something towards you. It was different to what he felt for Izuku, for Bakugou and Kirishima. He didn’t crave their touch like he did yours. Had physical contact always had such an appeal?

His last doctor had touched him, it was necessary of course to patch up his various wounds from fights. But somehow it wasn’t the same as when you touched him.

Shouto spent each exam studying you, your features, the way you moved, how you almost skipped over to the lollipop bowl to retrieve him one at the end of the exam. He felt drawn to you, wanted to touch your hair, hold onto your hand when you handed him the lollipop. Would you touch him if he asked? A hug maybe?

In his penthouse, Shouto mulled over his feelings, his wants and needs and how you fit in. Would it be prudent for him to start a relationship at this point in his life? Would you even consider him as a partner? No, probably not. You were much too professional, wouldn’t even think of starting a relationship with your boss.

Maybe he could fire you.

No, no, Shouto couldn’t do that, it would make you hate him. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to see you as often. And Shouto was quickly becoming of the opinion that he wouldn’t mind seeing you more often than he did now.

He wanted more from you. He didn’t know what he wanted, but… maybe he could learn.

——

If you noticed how frequently Shouto seemed to be visiting you, compared to his usual once-daily check up, you didn’t say anything.

Tabloids were beginning to comment on how eager the pro hero seemed to engage in hand-to-hand with villains. His usual strategy involved using his quirk, only getting his hands dirty if absolutely necessary. But now? He was constantly looking to get hit, kicked, clawed, wounded.

He had to come see you after every over-dramatic scrap with a villain. You didn’t seem to notice, nor mind seeing his face pop around the door 3-4 times a day, sheepishly asking if you could patch up a new cut, check out a new bruise, make sure his nose wasn’t broken.

Shouto could feel himself falling, further and further into the rigid embrace of love, or at least, his version of it. Did other people experience attraction this vividly?

He had come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to you, not just your body but your mind, your personality, your very existence. He wanted to stay in your office, lingering after every visit and awkwardly attempting small talk just so you would interact with him, just so he could be with you a little longer.

In the privacy of his own apartment, Shouto found himself researching on his laptop. “How to get the girl” “Ways to let her know you like her” “What does love feel like”. He felt so juvenile, but the man was genuinely at a loss for how to deal with his feelings for you. Telling you outright wouldn’t be appropriate. You would never enter a relationship with your boss, Shouto knew this, you were too good of an employee. Flirting was not his forte, and was completely out of the question.

So he stuck to what he knew how to do - keep his mouth shut and watch. You never turned him away from your office, never showed irritation when he showed up, never gave any sign that you were becoming tired of his presence. Shouto took this as an invitation, a sign that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him too. He found himself bringing his lunch down to your office, asking if he could eat there, just to get away from everyone for a little bit. You always let him, nonchalantly scrolling through your phone as you ate during your lunch break.

Shouto was a bit embarrassed of himself when he pulled your file from the employee records. If anyone asked why, he would just tell them that he was considering giving you a raise, but wasn’t sure. That’s a valid reason to bring out an employee’s file, right? He just wanted to know where you live, if it was far from the agency. The man couldn’t stomach the thought of you, gentle, little (Y/N) having to walk home alone at night, or take the train with all the creeps that could be there.

When he came upon your address, Shouto made a note to ask if you’d like him to drive you home. It was at least a thirty minute drive, he didn’t want to think about how you usually got home. What if something happened to his doctor? When he broached the subject, Shouto thought he did pretty well at acting nonchalant.

“The weather’s getting colder, isn’t it?”

You nodded, wrapping gauze around a nasty gash on his calf.

“I feel bad for anyone who has to walk during the evenings.” He stated.

“Aw, it’s not that bad in my opinion.” You took the bait “I walk home from the train station every night and the weather isn’t awful. It’ll probably get nasty as winter comes though.”

“You have to take the metro to get home? Where do you live.” As if he didn’t know. But you’d recoil if he offered just yet, probably be weirded out that he knew your address.

“Yeah, I live over in the Shikuyu district. It’s a really pretty walk in the fall though, all those trees turning different colors.”

Shouto wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. “Let me drive you home tonight, there’s been some criminal activity going down over there and it’s not one of my sectors. I need my doctor safe.”

You tried to protest, and Shouto let you, but ultimately pulled the boss card, insisting that he needed to take care of his employees, especially one that he bothered so much.

“You never bother me Todoroki-san.” You laughed, dropping a lollipop into Shouto’s lap.

Shouto kept his face from souring, missing the usual contact of your gentle, silky-soft hands as you handed the treat to him. But it was fine, he would get more time with you. In his car, just the two of you, outside of work.

Then he registered what you said, and his head snapped up, eyes wide and roving over you as you turned away, cleaning up the exam table and messy supplies.

It was all the confirmation he needed.

——

After the first time Shouto drove you home, you refused to let him go out of his way to help you out. Still, he was your boss and he could insist that you at least call an uber, or a cab. He didn’t feel comfortable sending his little doctor off onto the train every night after work. Shouto even upped your pay so you could afford it easier, saying there was no reason to be unsafe.

It was hard for him to know if he was being too suffocating. He didn’t want for you to regret your statement about him never bothering you.

So he had his agency install new security cameras.

One was placed in your office, where there hadn’t been one before. You weren’t too pressed when Shouto asked you what you thought of the upgrades, said you could see the sense in making sure the building was safe, especially the doctor’s office, where the heroes would be at their most vulnerable.

Shouto agreed - he was always at his most vulnerable when he was around you.

But now he could stop letting his body take a beating in order to see you. He could sit in his office, busy himself with paperwork and have the security feed from your office pulled up on his laptop. Half the time Shouto got distracted, abandoning the paperwork in order to watch you work, treating sidekicks and heroes-in-training and anyone else the agency had hired.

He tried to ignore the bitter pang of jealousy that reared it’s head.

Shouto knew jealousy, knew anger and negative emotions very well. His childhood had been littered with nothing but bad memories and negative moments. The only time he felt at peace was when he was curled in his mom’s lap, the woman running slender fingers through his bi-colored hair. Sometimes, when he was still very small, she would have the time to read him a story before bedtime.

She was such an amazing woman.

Shouto saw her in you.

The way you tended to him so gently, delicately treating his wounds. How you carded through his hair, just like his mom used to, when you were checking for head wounds. The way your lovely hands pressed against his back when you felt to see if a rib was cracked, rubbing each rib slow and soft, pressing. It was just like how his mom would rub his back.

The man swore your touch was addictive. He wanted more and more and more and he didn’t have a clue as how to get it. Shouto had to be satisfied with fleeting brushes when he moved before you were ready, accidentally jostling you against his body. Or telling you (lying) that his body was hurting, sore, it didn’t quite feel right. You would do your best to check for any injuries, asking where it hurt (usually his torso “hurt”) and then skimming your hands very carefully over the skin there.

Shouto imagined how nice it would be to fall asleep with your hands on him. He wasn’t stupid. He was getting too attached, too invested, was practically stalking your at this point. He shouldn’t be doing this, lying to you, watching you. But he didn’t know what else to do.

Guilt was beginning to take root in his mind.

One day he knew he would have to tell you, confess his feelings and deal with the outcome. You would accept him, hopefully. Shouto felt afraid for what he would do if you didn’t.

——

Shouto felt hot, disoriented, thirsty. He was pretty sure he was in your office, had gotten hit with a villains quirk during a fight. Apparently it had knocked him out, as he didn’t remember even coming into the agency.

Muffled voices could be heard past the closed door, and Shouto winced at the noise, at the light, at the feelings of his clothes against his skin. Everything felt too much. He stumbled off the exam table, yup, your office, and moved towards the light switch, stripping off his shirt as he did so.

The voices outside were still making noise, but with the light off Shouto felt a little better. His remaining clothes were still bothering him. His head felt fuzzy. His boots came off, followed by his pants. He wanted to take off his boxers, but his rational mind supplied how bad of an idea that would be. What if you came in?

At the thought of his little doctor, Shouto’s stomach jolted in arousal. Confused, the man peered down, surprised to find himself completely hard in his boxer briefs. He knew he considered you very attractive, but it usually took a fair bit of stimulus before he found himself aroused.

Shouto gulped as he climbed back onto the exam table, immediately curling onto his side towards the wall. He was practically panting with the heat of the room, sweating and drooling. Wait, drooling?

The door opened.

“Todoroki-san, I have bad news.”

Your voice was so sweet, like warm honey. Shouto shivered when he heard it, his cock twitching between his legs. He wanted to turn to you, stand up, pull you close. But he… he shouldn’t.

“You got hit by an aphrodisiac quirk. It’s going to take a bit to leave your system, and will probably be uncomfortable until then. I’m going to leave some supplies in case you would like to use them, but I will be taking my leave after getting you settled. The rest of your team and I have decided it’s safer for you to remain in this room than attempt to move you back home. We will be locking the door so no one can come in.”

And you can’t get out.

You didn’t have to say it,. Shouto heard you shuffling around the room behind him, he was so hot, sweat was beading all over his body.

“(Y/N), Why am I so warm?” Shouto groaned out, trembling. It felt like he was sick but with… arousal.

Objects were set down on your desk, before Shouto heard you step towards him.

“The quirk is going to make your libido hyperactive for the next twelve hours or so. It’s very likely that you will be aroused and craving stimulation.”

You sounded so clinical, so robotic, none of the usual warmth in your tone when you talked to Shouto. He wanted to whine, cry that you weren’t treating him the way you usually did. And when he needed your help too! His rational brain was telling him that you were trying to be professional, give your mostly-naked boss privacy.

HIs rational brain told him to stay still, wait until you left the room to grab whatever you had left for him on the desk. It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from grabbing your hands if he turned. He wanted to feel your hands on him, running over his torso, rubbing his back, cupping his cheek. He wanted your touch, so, so bad.

Shouto decided it was time for his rational brain to shut up.

When he turned over, sitting up, you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, already halfway to the door.

“(Y/N)” Shouto rasped, rising to his feet unsteadily. The arousal pooling in his gut was overwhelming - he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so hard. His penis was so rigid that it hurt, throbbing in his boxers.

You took a step back, eyes trained firmly on Shouto’s face, determined to not let them stray below the belt.

Shouto didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t rationalize any of it. The man wasn’t even in control of himself, feeling as if some demon from hell had invaded his body, taken his dirty thoughts and insisted that he act upon them right now.

The pro hero didn’t even know when he had grabbed you, but then he was pressing you up against his body and it felt so good that the man whimpered. A low, needy sound, softer than the spluttering and shocked noises tumbling from your mouth as you pushed against your boss, trapped in his grip.

“Todoroki-san! Please let go! The quirk-!”

Shouto didn’t listen, didn’t want to. He started grinding his hips against yours, breathing hard through his nose at the pleasure roaring into his veins at the simple contact, his dick pressing into your stomach.

It wasn’t enough though, he needed more.

Shouto dragged you to the exam table, manhandled you up against the flat surface and bent you over despite your struggling, the shouts of “No! Stop!”. Should he stop? Probably. But he wanted this. Had ever since he realized that he loved you, although it hadn’t been this intense before. With one quick movement, Shouto pulled off your scrubs, discarding your underwear in the same movement. He wasn’t concerned about foreplay - he needed, he needed all of you right now.

But the man couldn’t resist falling to his knees behind you, hands moving their iron grip from your palms to your thighs. His fingertip dug into your flesh, dimpling up your skin as he leaned forward, your pussy exposed oh so prettily for him.

Shouto didn’t know if you were screaming or crying or begging for more. He was too focused on the juicy flesh in front of him, leaning forward quickly to greedily slurp at the pink slit. He felt you jump, try to straighten your back but he let his hold on his quirk weaken, simultaneously heating and freezing each thigh held in his grasp.

You quickly resumed the position he had put you in.

The pro hero couldn’t get enough, licking and sucking with fervent desperation at your folds, no rhythm or technique whatsoever. He couldn’t think, not with his face buried between your legs, your thighs shaking in his hold, your sweet little cries (“Todoroki-san /please/! Stop!”) filling the air.

It could have been seconds, or minutes, Shouto had no concept of what was happening, only that you were the best fucking thing he had ever tasted in his life, and he needed everything you had to give him. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to burying his face closer, trying to spread your thighs further and further so he could reach deeper into your puffy pussy.

Your cum gushed onto his tongue, and the man slurped it up, reveling in the stick, wet sensation.

He couldn’t ignore his dick any longer.

Letting go of your thighs, Shouto stood, pushing his boxer briefs down his legs as fast as he could, desperate to sheath himself inside your cunt. He could barely breathe, was so aroused he was light-headed with need.

With his boxers off, the man pressed close to you again, lifting one of your legs to brace it on the table, forcing you to go on tiptoe. When the head of his dick met your folds, Shouto felt his cock jump, the strange sensation making butterflies rise in his stomach.

“Mmhm, (Y/N) I don’t know-I don’t know what’s happening.” Shouto confessed, one hand on your hip, the other guiding his thick cock into your pussy. “You just-oh, you look so good, always - always do. I need to feel - need to feel you so bad.”

He could feel your body trembling, and it briefly crossed his mind that you were probably crying. But his arousal slammed into him like a truck the moment he let his hips twitch forward, sliding his length into your wet pussy. “Oh god, oh-oh god, oh!”

Shouto came, crying into your neck, saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your heated flesh.

To his surprise, his dick was still hard, and the arousal was still pushing, urging, needy.

“(Y/N), I don’t - I’m so sorry.” Shouto stuttered, pulling back just to have his hips plunge forward again. You were so warm, so wet from your own orgasm and from his cum sliding inside you. It was heaven.

Shouto had never touched, nor been touched this much in his entire life. He didn’t know what to do, how to feel; it felt like his brain was on fire, and with each desperate snap of his hips, he was throwing on more and more gasoline. He had longer stamina this time, pounding you into the edge of the table for what felt like forever until his hips stuttered, his legs shaking as he orgasmed inside you.

When Shouto felt himself steady, he was horrified to find himself /still/ aroused. “I’m sorry (Y/N), This isn’t - I didn’t want to do it like this.” He was crying as he rutted against you, tears dripping hot onto your back. “I’ve been trying to be perfect, plan - plan dates, a relationship, anything, as long as it’s you.”

The man buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling raggedly. “It can only ever be you.”

His clarity was returning, each orgasm making him feel less and less feverish. At this point, his cock hurt, and he was too sensitive, but still, his hips wouldn’t stop.

“I was going - going to ask if we could go out.” A lie, but it felt like the right thing to say. You were definitely crying underneath him, Shouto would be lower than trash if he didn’t try to comfort you. You didn’t need to know that the pro hero would rather have made you his home-doctor than ask you out. That way you’d be at his house, waiting for him, just like a pretty little wife, like a mother.

“I love you… think I always have.”

It felt good for Shouto to admit it out loud.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #todoroki shouto #yandere shouto #aphrodisiac #uh oh #Shouto lies #Shouto #bnha shouto #shouto x reader #shouto x y/n #yandere todoroki

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vanserraseris · 3 years ago

Note

END OF PART XV - Ok, so that is the final part (there will be an epilogue, but this is pretty much the end). Eris is not doing too well, just a warning that there is mentions of blood. Thank you to everyone who reads.

OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY I TOOK FOREVER TO GET THIS UP. and omgggg im so sad this is ending soon

Prince of Ashes. Part XV.

Eris jolted awake, lurching to a sitting position, nearly falling out of his bed as he tried to calm his breathing. It took him a moment to recognize that he was in his old rooms at The Forest House, not his cottage.

“Not real,” Eris spoke into his empty room, his eyes clenched shut, “Not real.” Eris hadn’t seen his brothers die, and it was on nights like these when he wished he had, if only to know that the dreams weren’t real.

In his dreams, his worst nightmares, Cato and Owain would beg Eris to save them and all he could do was watch as they met their end. The Mother must truly hate him, Eris thought, to torment him like that in his sleep.

Eris fisted his hands in the sheets, hating the quiet of the room and quickly lighting a fire only to fill the horrible silence. The flames danced, tiny embers popping off the logs and falling to the dark wood outside the fireplace. His room was still too quiet.

Eris took a deep breath as he tried to settle his nerves and almost tripped as he hurtled for the bathroom. Eris fell to his knees in front of the toilet, bracing himself over the porcelain bowl as he retched, glad that he’d once again forgotten to eat dinner as he coughed over and over again. Each time Eris took a breath, he could smell the blood on his hands. Owain had laughed at him once decades ago, claiming that Eris had a better nose than his hounds.

Eris curled his hands into fists at the memory, not wanting to think about his brother. Eris, upon his fathers orders, had spent the last two days torturing a rebel group that had formed a steady following in the past ten years. The smell of their blood, clinging to the pale skin of Eris’s knuckles and getting stuck under his nails, was making him dizzy.

He tried not to think about how much it bothered him to do those sorts of things, but at night, as soon as his head hit his pillows, his mind wouldn’t stop reeling. He could practically hear his father’s voice, knowing he’d call him weak, knowing his father would call him a horrible heir. His father’s voice often battled with that of his mother’s. Eris growled, pushing himself up off the floor, the iron scent of faerie blood lingering in his nostrils as he stumbled to the sink.

He reached for the bar of soap on the counter, trying again to wash the smell of blood from his hands. The honeysuckle scented soap did nothing but mask the smell of the blood, and he knew that he could wash them a hundred times that night and it still wouldn’t make anything better. Eris had washed his hands raw before he’d fallen onto his bed, completely exhausted. He hadn’t even bothered changing into sleeping clothes, had merely kicked off his boots and thrown his jacket onto a chair.

The smell of the blood was stronger as Eris splashed cool water onto his face and he fought his urge to gag once more.

Eris walked back into his bedroom, drying his hands with a small towel, but he paused when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Eris inched closer, dropping the towel onto the dresser, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he placed the palms of his hands on the smooth wooden surface. There were wild flames in his eyes, flaring uncontrollably in reds, oranges, and yellows.

Eris frowned, willing the fire to disappear. His frown deepened when nothing happened. “I’m in control,” Eris muttered. He tried picturing dying embers in his mind, just as his mother had taught him, but if it were possible, the flames seemed brighter. “I’m in control,” Eris repeated, his voice a low growl, the fingers of his one hand curling into a fist. Eris hadn’t struggled with taming his magic like this in over a century.

He was still looking in the mirror, at the sharp lines of his face, at the harsh line of his mouth, as he scowled. Eris thought he had never looked more like his father.

One moment, Eris had been standing still, the next, he’d moved as quick as a snake. He threw his fist forward with all his strength, the glass of the mirror cracking under the impact, his flaming eyes still visible in every shard. Eris punched the mirror again, small fragments of glass clinking against the floor.

The smell of faerie blood hadn’t really gotten any better, Eris realized, probably because it was still under his nails, in the lines of his palm, in the wrinkles on the knuckles of each finger.

A beastly snarl ripped from his throat as he grabbed the carved wooden frame of the mirror, ripping it off the dresser only to slam it against the floor. The glass finally fell from the frame, shattering, but Eris continued to hit the frame against the hardwood floor.

Eris was tired and angry and he didn’t want to see his own reflection, would have preferred if he never had to look in a mirror again. He broke the wood of the mirror, splinters littered around his bare feet along with the small pieces of glass. Eris threw what remained in his hands at the opposite wall, surprising himself when it turned into ash before it crashed against the stone. Eris ran a trembling hand through his long hair, his chest heaving with each breath.

He took a step back, leaning against the dresser before he slid to the floor, eyes clenched shut. “I’m in control,” he whispered, hoping the lie would become a reality.

Eris had always been aware of the little control he had in his life, but only very recently had he started feeling like a puppet with strings. Everything his father asked, Eris did, a cruel smile on his face all the while. Eris couldn’t even bear to look at his mother, didn’t want to face that kind of disappointment.

Eris breathed in from his nose slowly, opening his eyes as he reached for a larger shard of the mirror right by his hand. He angled it so he could see his face, and tightened his hold along the edges when he saw there were still flames in his eyes.

Blood leaked from where Eris gripped the sharp glass, dripping along his hand, down to his wrist, and onto the floor. He had hoped that perhaps the pain would anchor him, offer him some control on his magic, but it didn’t even hurt.

“Eris?”

Eris flinched, startled, dropping the bloodied shard and knocking the back of his head against the dresser with a loud thud. His mother had spoken so softly, he shouldn’t have jumped like that. He ran his uninjured hand through his hair, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She ignored his question, pushing the heavy door to his room open and slipping inside, asking another question of her own. “What are you doing?”

Eris took a breath, “I’ve made a real mess of things.” He waved his bloodied hand in front of him, and the Lady of Autumn gasped, but Eris just continued speaking. “Just a horrible, horrible mess of things.”

“What happened?” Eris could hear the panic in his mother’s tone, but he just shrugged, shaking his head.

She walked towards him on silent bare feet, “Watch the glass,” Eris barked. He must have looked quite frightening with the flames in his eyes shining bright in the dark of the room.

She didn’t even pause, expertly stepping around the pieces of the mirror, before she sat down right beside him. Close, but not touching. Her russett eyes hadn’t stopped looking at his hand. “Oh, Eris,” she breathed, a slight tremor in her voice, “There’s glass in your knuckles.” Eris hadn’t noticed. When he lifted his other hand to brush the pieces away, his mother placed a hand on his arm. “Not like that,” she said a tad sharply.

Eris faced her, and while she might have been slightly horrified to see what he’d done to his hand, she reminded Eris of the female he remembered from his childhood. She lifted her chin, her mouth set in a firm line and her back straight. Even in her nightgown, her hair in a messy braid over her shoulder, she was a force to be reckoned with. “You’ll make it worse like that.” She reached past his head to grab the towel he’d thrown onto the dresser, “Give me your hand.”

Eris scowled, he was too old to be getting told what to do by his mother. She raised a brow at him and Eris scrunched his nose, doing as she said. With gentle fingers, she slowly pried all the pieces of glass from his hand, wincing when blood dripped from his knuckles. “Tell me what happened,” it wasn’t a request.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Eris mumbled, he definitely wasn’t going to tell her why, he didn’t want her to know what kept him up at night. “And then I couldn’t get the scent off.”

The Lady of Autumn lifted her son’s hand closer to her face, sniffing subtly, “What scent?”

Eris shook his head, refusing to answer. He didn’t know whether or not the High Lord had told his wife what his son had been spending much of his time doing as of late.

“I smell nothing but blood, Eris.” There was no judgement, no frustration, in her tone. She held his large hand in one of her much smaller ones, certain there was no more glass, as she pushed the towel against his knuckles.

“Me too,” Eris muttered, amber eyes following his mother’s every move. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to his mother for this long. He guessed that it must have been at Cato and Owain’s funeral. Eris hadn’t wanted to speak with her, not after he’d broken his oath to protect Lucien, not after he’d managed to fail at the only thing his mother had ever asked of him. Eris felt a burning behind his eyes and blinked a few times, taking a small breath.

His mother flipped his hand once his knuckles had mostly healed, but the deep cut he’d gotten from gripping onto the sharp shard of the mirror was still bleeding. It might even scar, Eris thought. The Lady of Autumn sighed, “I wish I knew what was going on in that head of yours.”

Eris was glad she didn’t know what was going on in his head, thanked the cauldron that his mother was not a daemati. His head was a horrible place to be, especially lately, now that he felt overwhelmed with everything.

Lagos had tried apologizing countless times. Eris had kicked him out of his cottage, had pulled rank and ordered him not to return, but that hadn’t stopped him yet. Eris wondered how long he’d keep it up. Eris hadn’t tried talking to Micah, and he knew perfectly well that Micah wouldn’t come to him, that he’d let Eris make the first move always and that wouldn’t change. Widge always came to the cottage and sat with him as he worked; Eris couldn’t shake the feeling that he did so out of pity.

Not only that, but Cato and Owain’s deaths meant that Beron was pitting Maddox and Priam against him. Eris was almost certain they wanted to kill him just to prove to their father that they weren’t as worthless as he’d always thought they were. Rufus was still trying to convince Eris that gaining their father’s trust was an impossible goal, and Eris knew that his actions would eventually push Rufus away. And Lucien was gone, exiled to Spring, and he hated his oldest brother.

Eris clenched his jaw, staring fixedly at the flames flickering in the fireplace on the opposite side of the room.

His mother placed a hand on Eris’s chin, tilting his face so that he looked at her concerned gaze, “Tell me what troubles you.”

Eris could have died at the sob that escaped his lips. He felt a rush of shame, his cheeks heating, as his mother’s eyes filled with tears as well.

His mother hadn’t seen him cry since he was eighteen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d broken down like this, especially in front of somebody else. Many things troubled Eris, but he’d gotten very good at hiding behind sneers and scowls. Eris didn’t like following his father’s orders, Eris didn’t like smelling the blood on his hands, Eris didn’t like looking in the mirror.

Eris brought his uninjured hand to his face, covering his eyes with it as another sob fell from his mouth. He didn’t like the way his mother looked as if she saw into his soul, if she looked too close he feared she wouldn’t find one. Eris felt his mother wrap her arms around him, her hand going to the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry, Eris,” she whispered, “I’m so terribly sorry.”

Eris didn’t know why she was apologizing. He tried to shake his head, but his mother was still holding him tight.

“I never should have made you take that oath,” she spoke with her lips pressed to his hair. “I’m so sorry, Eris.”

Maybe she was right. That fucking vow had been the start of his downward spiral. Or maybe it hadn’t been. Maybe he’d been spiralling for centuries.

Eris didn’t say anything, he just ever so slowly wrapped his arms around his mother, his chin resting on her too-slim shoulder. Eris didn’t really like being held, hadn’t liked it as a child, but this wasn’t too bad.

He made a funny sounding whimper and bit his tongue to keep himself from doing it again.

“Eris, tell me what troubles you,” she repeated, her fingers pushing his hair over his shoulder as she moved back to look into his eyes. His mother lifted a hand to his face, gently wiping at the tears on his cheeks. “Please.”

Eris shook his head, he could not tell her what he was feeling, not really. His mother had enough to worry about.

He knew her thoughts were with Lucien, and if they weren’t, she was probably thinking about Cato and Owain. She didn’t need to spend any time thinking about what was troubling him, especially since Eris knew it would break her heart to know that he was unhappy.

“I’m alright,” Eris lied.

“Eris, please,” the Lady of Autumn tried again.

Eris took a deep breath.

He needed to become High Lord, to sit on the Autumn Court throne, and he would do just about anything to steal his father’s crown. Beron had raised a monster, and it would come back to ruin him. He was the Tamer of Flames, the Heir of Autumn, the Prince of Ashes. He was not broken, and he would not break.

So Eris just flashed his mother an empty smile, the iron scent of blood still burning through his nose as he spoke.

“I’m just tired.”

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magireco · 3 years ago

Note

Would love to hear more thoughts on how these girls have understandable teenage motivations (A+ tag analysis by the way)

1. Thank you!!!!!!

2. ALRIGHT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (shuffles my papers). i’ve gone off about homura’s motivations in depth before but i think it was only in dms/groupchats? anyways i’ll go in order with All the girls bc i think about this all the time as a teenager who grew up mentally ill and had their perceptions skewed because of it, and also i don’t think it’s talked about nearly enough for the others, at least on my blog... so, buckle up!!! this is REALLY LONG!!!!

3. i tried writing like, an individual thing for every member of the quintet all together in this one ask, but i ended up talking a little too much about homura and now i’m going to split up all the different analysis stuff for each character into the reblogs and work on it every so often! you’re free to kinda skim of course because i really did write a whole novel but here we go!! read under the cut. :3 this is literally essay length btw. i did NOT expect it to get this long but if you want to read it all i’d recommend it but i don’t expect most people to

First: Homura Akemi

okay so i’m going to kind of summarize everything but from the perspective of empathizing with her so if you don’t want to reread a whole recap you can skip to the ending few paragraphs

Summary

first of all, in episode 10, homura’s past is explained for the viewer. she was a shy, unsure girl who had been bedridden for a long time. she was clearly unsocialized, not to mention she went to a catholic school and those can be brutal, esp in japan... that’s all we know about her in that episode, but it’s revealed in one of the drama cds that she was bullied as a child(& further at mitakihara middle), her parents never were mentioned ever (i assume them to either be dead or neglectful, considering she lives alone and unchecked), and in magia record, homura says to natsuki that she’s never had friends before, she hasn’t been on vacation before until the beachside bonds event, hasn’t ever celebrated valentine’s day, has never celebrated new years, etc...

clearly, she’s missed out on a lot not only because of her sickness and hospitalization, but because of her isolation as a child at school. judging by her demeanor and the way she reacts when madoka comes up to her without being asked to, something like that had never happened to her before. it’s clear to me that madoka was many of homura’s “first’s”, her first friend, the first person who reached out to her, the first person to compliment her name honestly(validating her, disproving her dislike of her name), the first person to regard her so kindly rather than judging her based off of her appearance and demeanor (like other students had apparently done, this is also shown when the other students at mitakihara middle make fun of her for being tired after only being able to run one lap). AND, madoka (and mami, but homura knew madoka better at that time) saved her life, even though homura was so willing to die, just in that moment... i’d assume it made homura feel like someone believed in her even when she was at her worst. it’s really clear by the glimmer in her eyes that these are nice people that made her feel happy and welcome... and then walpurgisnacht came. she didn’t know much about magical girls and just believed in madoka and mami to be able to defeat the witch because she saw them as strong and saw the witch as defeatable, despite its size. and then mami died, right in front of her and madoka...

this kinda seems headcanon-y when i phrase it this way but it’s practically proven in her actions but i really think homura is scared to be abandoned, especially by someone who was as overtly kind and nonjudgemental to her as madoka... it’s in the way she cries her name and says “don’t go” before madoka runs away to fight walpurgisnacht. OH ALSO, i need to address this one thing really quick because people like to assume that homura didn’t care about mami from the beginning and only liked madoka. it’s not that she wasn’t sad when mami died, she was clearly terrified and didn’t want the same to happen to madoka, also mami LITERALLY WASN’T IN HER CLASS OR HER GRADE so i assume she spent most of her time with madoka considering they were in the same grade and class and probably shared most of their periods with each other... but also, once again, mami is older than both of them and homura probably saw her as more of a mentor/teacher that she needed to impress rather than madoka who was more on her level, i guess?

anyways, moving on... homura had to see madoka die (& experience the crushing guilt she felt for “letting madoka go” even though there was nothing she could’ve done) and literally says “i’d rather you had lived than saved someone like me” ... her self worth is below zero. she makes her wish to be strong enough to protect madoka(because she sees madoka, her first friend, who saved her life which she felt had no worth, as so strong and noble) which causes her to go back in time, etc. etc., you know the deal. okay before i move on to talk a little more abt the timelines and the personality change i’m going to address why it’s reasonable that she’d be attached to madoka.

i mentioned before that homura said herself that she had never had a friend before. just like, put yourself into her shoes for a second. this girl has no idea how to make friends; it was never taught to her. it’s literally rational that she’d get attached to her first ever friendship. it’s not “normal” the way she views madoka, but how could it be? this is her first time having a friend, she’s afraid of being abandoned by her, but she’s had to see her die over and over again anyway. she doesn’t want to lose madoka. even if she doesn’t go about it in the right way, there’s no way she would’ve actually known how to Do relationships. no one taught her. i think that needs to be empathized with more...

i kinda feel like i need to summarize all this just bc if i word it right it kinda reminds you & puts into perspective just how terrible and scary all of this was.

anyway Again, i would skip straight to the end of timeline 3 (where a New Flavor of trauma is given to homura) but i need to first address timeline 2 for a second. it was homura’s first time repeating the timeline, she trained with madoka and mami again, she was still hopeful despite what happened, etc. kinda just bonding further with madoka Again... and then it’s at the end of this timeline that she watches madoka turn into a witch, just in front of her very eyes... and realizes the true fate of magical girls. when she resets the timeline again, it’s up to her to start anew and break the truth to the group when she sees them again. when she tries telling the truth, sayaka immediately shoves this aside, claiming homura was just trying to split everyone up. it’s clear that that hurts homura. (also the little shinies in her eyes were wavering which is anime-code for sad) her feelings were immediately disregarded by sayaka and she couldn’t defend herself, but madoka did for her, and mami tried to diffuse the situation.

after they all find out homura was right when sayaka turns into a witch, mami kills kyoko and ties up homura in her ribbons and aims a gun at her, and this, rightfully, ignited a fear within homura... madoka is forced to kill mami in order to save homura, leaving only the two of them to fight together. then, when walpurgisnacht comes that time, The Promise is made... madoka tells homura to go back in time and save her from becoming a witch (because she doesn’t want to curse the world that way, she still sees beauty in it) and homura agrees, saying she’ll never stop until she saves madoka, and then... homura has to mercy kill madoka before she becomes a witch. she cries loudly and shoots madoka’s soul gem... it’s literally so heartwrenching and (usually) brings the viewer to tears, or puts something into perspective for them...

then we assume the personality change happens in the timeline right after. this personality change causes a lot of discourse because sometimes it’s seen as kind of irrational, but personally, i think even moemura had at least SOME resent for the world around her considering what she’d been through. it’s madoka’s repeated deaths that finally push her over that edge. i could get further into the coolmura arc but that’d take a WHILE, so i’ll just kind of explain something briefly though -- why homura ended up becoming even MORE focused on madoka. and i’m also going to debunk the claim that homura doesn’t care about her other friends as fast as i can before moving on.

also, ONE LAST side tangent, for those that think homura really did do a 360 degree personality turn are wrong. it’s shown explicitly in homulilly’s labyrinth that there’s this... “core” homura, a shadowy purple silhouette with braids. every time the series depicts homura’s internal self, it’s always glasses+braids, symbolizing her “child” self, who she truly is. she never stopped being that person. she doesn’t want to kill. ...but i can get into that in a rebellion analysis later! this is also shown in wraith arc bc the person inside her soul gem has glasses+braids. anyway let’s get to the next part i’m going to rant about

Homura’s Love for Madoka, but Otherwise Apathy

homura has seen many different, yet all similar, versions of her friends. the first claim i’m going to talk about which i saw brought up quite a few times before is in regards to homura and mami. first of all, homura absolutely still cares for mami, and not just in the “i only care about your life if it affects madoka’s” way. one part that always gets me is when mami ties her up in the series timeline after homura frantically warns her that this witch isn’t normal, to which mami IMMEDIATELY brushes this off, without even giving homura a chance. then, when mami’s ribbons fade away, homura looks horrified and just goes “oh no...” and it’s kind of obvious to me that it was in response to mami’s death rather than madoka’s reaction. this is arguably up for debate i guess because i’ve seen different takes on that reaction and it’s ambiguous, i guess? but i’m about to get into something extremely similar and that’s the sayaka situation, where madoka throws sayaka’s soul gem onto a moving car. homura gasps and immediately pauses time and disappears, running in literal open traffic and climbing on top of a moving car to retrieve sayaka’s soul gem. one could argue that this is ALSO only just because homura wants to save madoka (and kyoko) the fear, but don’t you think her expression would be different? if homura truly didn’t care for sayaka’s wellbeing, wouldn’t she be making an expression more similar to like, “oh, this shit again...” instead of the frantic one she was making in the scene? this kind of thing Also happens when kyoko asks homura to leave while kyoko’s about to sacrifice herself in oktavia’s labyrinth, and homura looks up sadly at kyoko and then back down at madoka, and once she knew kyoko was dead, she just quietly said “kyoko...” to herself. she usually refers to them as [last name, first name], but she dropped that during that moment... it otherwise sounds like a bare minimum thing to do, but keep in mind the timeline we’re shown in the series is implied to be like, the 110th timeline, i think? like, this is the last timeline, she’s worn down, but she still does have empathy -- or at least sympathy -- for the others. she still loves them.

homura promised to be madoka’s protector, she dedicated her life to her, and also she doesn’t have a choice not to dedicate her life to her anymore, even though that’s not fair to her... homura is in a really hopeless situation and madoka is her hope, and madoka is the one that judges her the least out of the quintet (like saying “i’m sure homura is good” to herself) upon first impression. also okay i mentioned this already in my last post (which you saw) but i’m going to bring it up one more time, homura is not mentally 26!!!!!! she is still 14 mentally!! in order to be 26, you have to have experienced 26 years of new life experience. maybe you acquire that through school, maybe you aquire that through friends, whatever it takes. but homura just repeated the same month over and over, and it’s not like her body (canonically) ages ever. she just kind of gets transported back into her body in the hospital again considering she’s back wearing her braids and pajamas... so, yeah. no mental development there. i also mentioned this here but i’m gonna say it again, that just makes it even harder for her to actually age correctly... it stunts her to 14. imagine being 14 for 10-11 years...

In Defense Of My Own Claims

btw before you think i’m just going full-on radical homura apologist, i’m not explaining all of this to be like “homura made ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS because her trauma gave her an excuse!!” because like, Obviously, she did a lot of bad things, she killed people, did a lot of callous things, a lot of thoughtless things, a lot of things that make her seem emotionless, etc. but i just have trouble blaming her considering how things ended up, and it’s not like she enjoys killing people. she’s not sadistic... she ends up becoming short with all the others not only because of her (extremely) weakened trust in them, but also because the amount of times she repeated the timeline. i’d imagine it makes her feel like the others can’t truly die because she can just go back and see them again. (this is also why wraith arc/post-tv series must’ve been hard for her because she can no longer turn back time, things are permanent now, deaths are forever) she’s become so worn down that she’ll do anything to escape the loops... also considering she has no choice but to continue? although it shouldn’t be, it’s technically her job as a magical girl to defeat all witches and walpurgisnacht counts. it kills magical girls and tears up the whole city and she’s usually the only magical girl left... her choices, when defeated, are either to give up and die or to go back and try again, and she made a promise to her first ever friend to do just the latter... i just don’t understand how this isn’t easier for people to comprehend, that all of this trauma and stress and responsibility on top of an already traumatized 14 year old does not mix well. ever. she had to figure out all of this by herself.

TL;DR:

homura was a previously traumatized, unsocialized 14 year old with (very)low self esteem & self worth whose first friend (and first love, really, let’s be honest) died in front of her in horrific ways and she watched as she (and the other friends she came to make) drifted slowly apart from her in her endless and futile attempt in saving her from what proved to be an inescapable fate. also she’s 14 and also she’s (canonically) mentally ill and a lesbian. not a monster, not evil, not “psycho”. and that’s that!

#asks #luna-mistrunner #homura akemi #analysis #THIS MAY HABE TAKEN ME LIKE 2 DAYS ON AND OFF

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 20, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

So much happens in this episode that I couldn’t stop the meta and had to break it in thirds. Part one is here, part three is here.

Owie Owie Owie

Wen Zhuliu takes exquisitely tender care of Wen Chao, despite presumably disliking him quite a lot. He wipes his tears away, saying that the tears will infect his wounds, which...isn't likely, but ok.

I will note that he didn't get the "no sting" kind of medicine, however, so maybe there's a limit to his kindness. Wen Chao screams and yells at him while he puts a tiny amount of medicine on one tiny spot of owie. It's going to be a long night for these fellas. Except it isn't because they're going to die, so at least they won't have to put more medicine on.

The candles blow out and we hear the sound of a flute, which Wen Zhuliu hilariously says is just the wind when Wen Chao starts freaking out. They have two days to go before they get to safety, and Wen Chao is pretty sure he's not going to last two days. And you know...he's right!

As usual he blames Wen Zhuliu for the situation, but then gets afraid that WZL is going to leave him, and starts making promises of status. WZL says that's not necessary. He is a loyal sonofabitch, I'll give him that.

The Man Comes Around, Redux

And now Wei Wuxian enters the scene, climbing menacingly up the stairs carrying his own hair fan, just like Lan Wangji did in the previous episode. (Gifset here). Wen Zhuliu doesn't look optimistic. When the boys on the roof see Wei Wuxian they don't look too happy either.

Wei Wuxian stops in front of Wen Zhuliu and proceeds to have a philosophical conversation with him. Wei Wuxian has come to fuck your shit up, but he has also come to pass judgement on your ethics because he is, fundamentally, still himself.

Wen Zhuliu takes the opportunity to justify his actions, giving a heartfelt statement about what he owes to Wen Ruohan. Wen Zhuliu knows his number is up and that they obviously didn't kill Wei Wuxian hard enough, but he still feels righteous.

(more after the cut)

Here Wei Wuxian asks a question that shows the fundamental difference between himself and Wen Zhuliu. In many ways they are similar: neither of them was born into their clan. Both were appreciated by the clan leader and placed in high positions. Both feel an obligation to those clan leaders. When Wei Wuxian asks "why do other people have to pay for your gratitude?" he's foreshadowing the moment when Jiang Cheng demands the death of the Dafan Wens.

Wen Zhuliu doesn't hesitate to murder people because his clan leader wants him to. Whereas Wei Wuxian doesn't hesitate to pay a terrible price--his golden core-for his gratitude to Jiang Fengmian. But he won't let the Dafan Wens pay the price of his continued membership in the Jiang clan; he chooses exile while Wen Zhuliu chooses murder.

Wei Wuxian is done talking and very very slowly brings his flute into position and starts to play. Wen Zhuliu doesn't make a move to stop him, but he might be frozen in place...everything happens at weird speeds in this scene.

Lan Wangji is super horrified when he sees what Wei Wuxian is doing with his flute. So horrified, in fact, that by the time they are face to face, he's moved past any other emotion.

Lady in Red

As Wei Wuxian plays the flute, the camera moves around him (or they spin him on a turntable) and the scenery around him shifts to a 360 view of...the burial mounds! That's so fucking cool!

You can take the boy out of the graveyard but you can't take the graveyard out of the boy. He is carrying it within him now.

He summons up the hottest ghost lady ever, to scratch the shit out of the Wens with her fancy fingernails. She's all in red, not the dark Wen red, but super-saturated bridal red.

She's not dressed as a bride, but she is very pretty and the color is awesome, particularly when she turns into red smoke. Presumably having actual ghosts attacking people is ok with the censor board as long as they are pretty ladies in nice clothes, since there are two in this episode and this one is absolutely definitely a non-corporeal being when she wants to be.

Camera Operator: What did I ever do to you?

She fights with Wen Zhuliu, who tries to put his core-melting hand on her, unsuccessfully, and then figures out that Wei Wuxian is the better target, so tries to put his core-melting hand on him.

Wen Zhuliu, you need to have some different moves! Not everybody has a core for you to melt.

Zidian’s Revenge

As soon as Wen Zhuliu targets Wei Wuxian the boys break in from the rooftop, with Jiang Cheng snapping Zidian up over a rafter and down around Wen Zhuliu's neck in a single move, and then hauling him up and hanging him.

This is a pretty gratifying moment; Jiang Cheng finally gets his vengeance using the weapon his mother gave him before this fucker killed her. He also gets to come back at the guy who melted his core and kill him with a spiritual weapon. All around nice work, Jiang Cheng.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji initially placed himself between Wen Zhuliu and Wei Wuxian, which is a pretty strong show of devotion, given that his chest was directly in line with Wen Zhuliu's hand.

He watches intently while Wen Zhuliu dies...Lan Wangji is actually a pretty vengeful guy, isn't he? He's not into torture but he seems to like executing bad people, and he enjoys chopping off arms a whole lot.

Welcome Back

Having disposed of Wen Zhuliu, Team Where The Fuck Have You Been is ready to greet Wei Wuxian. This is Lan Wangji as he prepares to turn around and face him.

This is not "relieved that my soulmate is ok" or even "feeling betrayed because you didn't even send me a text." This is cold, hard, fury. He's plowed right past relief and joy into full on disgust and vehemence.

Jiang Cheng is also pissed at him, but he's so used to being pissed at him that it's not a remarkable emotion, and it passes quickly. He gives him his sword, calls him a prick, punches him in the shoulder while Lan Wangji looks grumpy Wang Yibo tries very hard not to smile, and fails.

Then Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian an enormous squishy hug.

Wei Wuxian, who has probably wanted that hug for the past decade, does not return it, and looks stricken, eventually raising his flute hand behind Jiang Cheng's back.

Lan Wangji glares at him while Jiang Cheng hugs him, and then shifts to glare at the flute.

Let's talk about Lan Wangji's body language here. This scene is often talked about, including by OP, as "Wei Wuxian picks a fight with Lan Wangji in order to push him away." But since their very early days,Lan Wangji's nonverbal communication has been an essential component of his relationship with Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian has been reading his microexpressions from the very start, and he's the only one besides Lan Xichen who does that.

Lan Wangji's anger and disapproval are written all over his face and posture, so much so that even a casual observer can tell what he's feeling. For Wei Wuxian, with his extreme awareness and having shared actual literal telepathy with the guy previously, this has got to feel like Lan Wangji is screaming at him.

Lan Wangji is the one picking this fight. Wei Wuxian is trying to defuse it by giving him time to calm down before engaging. For perhaps the first time since meeting him, Wei Wuxian ignores Lan Wangji to focus on Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng asks him a bunch of questions and Wei Wuxian slides out from under most of them, giving half answers, non-answers, and what All The President's Men calls a non-denial denial.

Wei Wuxian, who is adept at sounding like he's speaking truth when he is lying, here sounds like he's lying when he's speaking something very close to the truth. He spins a particularly outrageous-sounding tale of finding a cave and learning an ultimate power there...but that's actually what he actually did, actually. Xue Yang does this "lie so much that the truth now sounds like a lie" thing by accident, years later in Yi City, but Wei Wuxian is using it as a deliberate tactic to hide the truth from his brother. Which is basically his main occupation at this point.

He acts offended that Jiang Cheng doesn't believe him, but he does it playfully to cast everything in the conversation as a joke.

Lan Wangji is not as inclined to accept utter codswallop as Jiang Cheng is, and he has already figured out an important underlying layer of the situation--the turn away from the way of the sword--while not seeing the very bottom layer, the "I don't have a golden core" layer.

Unfortunately, he continues to be judgy and pissed off. He says "Wei Ying" gently enough, but his body is braced for conflict.

Wei Wuxian looks at him wearily and stands up to have the fight Lan Wangji is asking for.

Maybe you were right But baby I was lonely I don't want to fight I'm tired of being sorry

I'm standing in the street Crying out for you No one sees me But the silver moon

Soundtrack: 1. Sympathy for the Devil, The Rolling Stones 2. Tired of Being Sorry, by Ringside

Writing Prompt: Who is the lady in red and what is her deal?

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #chengxian #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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