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pars-ley · 4 months ago

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Come Alive (part one)

Pairing: Jackson Wang x female reader Summary: A night out with your friends takes a very unexpected turn when a gorgeous, kindhearted stranger offers to pretend to be your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention. All you can think about is the prospect of what could be…but for him, it’s not that simple. Genre: Fake dating au / strangers to lovers au / heartbreak / series / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 15 (Nsfw-smut in future chapters) Warnings: Making out / mentions of heartbreak / mentions of cheating (not by main characters) / slight stalking or predatory behaviour from non named, small character. W/C: 3.9k Banner: @nixiecreates creating pure perfection. Beta: @flurrys-creativity for being lovely and helpful as always. Notes: I’m back from abyss of life/work/kids and I'm writing again, if anyone still cares. I’m working on more kpop fanfic and going to try to post as regularly as I can. Please, comment and share, it really helps keep the motivation of writing going, thank you for anyone who reads! This is part one of approx five parts.

Feeling unwelcome eyes on you as you move further into the crowd to escape, gives you a knot in the pit of your stomach that pulls tightly on your insides. You try not to but end up glancing back at the man you're attempting to get away from, only to discover your suspicions are correct, he is watching your retreat with annoyance etched across his brow.

Why do some guys find the word ‘no’ such a hard answer to accept?

It's not like you were rude about it, in fact, you went out of your way to be as nice as possible but clearly, it didn't soften the blow.

You head to the bar, figuring you'll be safe for a while if you can talk to the bar staff, and pull out your phone, staring at the same message of "on our way" in your group chat. That was twenty minutes ago and you were still waiting.

Your decision to get ready at work and come from there instead of pre drinking with the girls, now looks like a mistake.

Your gaze travels nervously back to the stranger and your stomach drops at seeing him moving slowly towards you through the crowd. For the love of…

“Can I be of any assistance?” A deep male voice sounds to your right, causing your head to snap over to the figure in the neighbouring bar stool.

You're greeted by a handsome face with perfect features marred with a deep frown, as he nods his head in the persistent strangers direction. “He's making you uncomfortable,” he says matter-of-factly.

You nod, surprised anyone has even noticed, the dancefloor of the club was very busy.

“You can say that again.” You respond before ordering another drink. “Is he still heading this way?” You ask, afraid to look for yourself.

You watch the handsome stranger’s face explore the crowd, eyes scanning faces but you know when he's found him by the way darkness sweeps across his features. “He seems to be assessing the situation, just a short distance away.”

You sigh and take a long sip of your drink. “In that case, can you pretend we know each other? Then he might just decide to leave me alone.”

His responding smile is dazzling and has your mouth stretching up in a mirroring grin.

“Not a problem, just go with me ok?” He says, as he slides your bar stool towards him, so your knees are in between his legs. “If you feel uncomfortable with anything I do, at any point, just say the word and I'll stop.” He says, leaning into your ear. “Now,” he pulls back slightly and tucks your hair behind your ear, in such a gentle manner you barely feel it, “firstly, i'm Jackson.”

His fingers softly trail down the length of your arm sending a shiver down your spine that you find yourself relishing in, rather than shying away from this complete stranger. There's oddly something comforting and wholesome about him.

“Secondly, how do you want to play this?” His hand comes to rest lightly on your thigh and when your eyes go from that to his face, your gaze locks and you can't look away. Focused on his brown eyes and how intense they stare back at you, you note a hint of sadness in them that he's trying to conceal and wonder what's the cause.

You frown trying to understand the question he's just asked and what he means and when his mouth pulls up in a smile your eyes follow the movement.

“In the instances I've seen, men like this back off faster if they think you're with a boyfriend or love interest?” He watches you carefully, assessing your reaction.

You swallow, his scent swirling around you, like fresh linen with an underline of sweetness, is making it hard to focus, especially when the heat from his hand still on your leg is radiating through your body.

“Yes,” you clear your throat and shift in your seat, “fine with me.”

“Like I said, at any point you're not comfortable, just say the word and I'll stop, ok?”

You nod, “got it.”

With a wide eyed smile, he takes your hand and entwines his fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your wrist.

“Thank you,” you say, leaning into him slightly as you settle into your new role. “I'm waiting for my friends but they're late.”

He smiles and pushes the hair off your shoulder as he leans into your ear. “Happy to be of service, there are much worse things than pretending to be a beautiful stranger's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks grow hot at his words and you're thankful that he can't see from his position.

“And why are you here drinking alone?” You attempt to deflect the focus from yourself, wanting to know more about him but you're aware of how his body stiffens at the question, only briefly, before relaxing again as he leans back away from you slightly. “Ah,” he sighs, “I'm attempting to ease the pain of heartbreak by drinking myself into oblivion.” His eyes avoid yours but you catch the raw emotion in them before they do.

“I'm so sorry,” you comfortingly squeeze the hand he still holds of yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He brings your fingers to his mouth and kisses them, you’re mesmerised by how soft his lips are against your skin, not to mention how tender the action is.

He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, doesn't even come close. “Pretty clichéd stuff, I don't want to bore you with it.”

You hook a knuckle under his chin and tilt his head up, until he meets your gaze again. “Try me.”

His face visibly softens, eyebrows knitted together in anguish, he looks torn as unsure whether to share his story or if he should continue acting out your pretence. “I, er, found my girlfriend sleeping with one of my best friends.” He shrugs and shakes his head as if trying to push away the image. “I've now lost two people I cared deeply about and to be honest, I feel kind of baffled right now.”

You sit and watch as he surveys the crowd, clearly trying to distract himself from the pain. Your heart actually hurts for him. Here he was, so hurt and yet still trying to help you out and make your evening better.

“I know it's easy to say but I've been there, it does get easier.” You give him a reassuring smile, “and it may not help much right now, but it sounds to me like they're the ones who have lost something, not you.”

His face softens and his lips twitch up into a slight smile. “I appreciate that.”

Peeling your eyes away from him for the first time since you began your conversation, you take a large sip of your drink and relish the sweetness as it goes down.

Jackson looks over in the direction of the other guy. “He is persistent, isn't he?” It was clearly his turn to change the subject.

Rolling your eyes you shift closer to Jackson. “How do you feel about giving him a bit of a show?”

His eyebrow arches as he turns his head slowly back in your direction. “What did you have in mind?”

“Kiss me. I'm sure he'll get the hint then.”

You see something flash in Jackson's eyes but before you can recognise what it is, it's gone as quick as it appeared. “You sure?”

Feeling yourself smiling shyly, you look up at him through your lashes, “absolutely. Only if you're comfortable with it, of course?”

“Definitely.” He whispers, standing from his stool and nudging your knees apart slightly to get closer. As he towers above you, his hands come up and gently cup either side of your jaw, arching your face up towards him, he leans down but pauses merely inches away, “you never told me your name.”

His breath tickling your skin only draws you in more.

“Y/n,” you reply almost breathlessly, as your heart gallops like a horse on a race track, eager to get to the finish line.

He smiles sweetly. “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You take note of his blown out pupils and know, judging by the throbbing from between your legs, yours surely matches his. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and all you can do is watch as his head tilts slightly and he begins to close the space between you. His unbearably slow manoeuvre is deliberate but you grow impatient to know what his lips feel like against yours and before you register the movement, you’re grabbing his shirt and pulling him against you.

His soft lips crash against yours and you hear his small, surprised moan as his hand suddenly finds the base of your neck, keeping you in place as he slots himself between your legs.

Behind your closed lids, all you can see is a cloudy red as heat and lust bloom inside you, sending a flush across your skin you've not experienced before. It awakens a hunger inside you that is very unexpected. The noise around you disappears as you're acutely aware of your heart pounding in your ears. The feel of your blood rushing through your veins, making your body throb with excitement, nerves raw with want. It had been a long time since you'd kissed a stranger, and a longer time since you'd let your defences down and given into a base desire.

His hand entwines with yours before pulling you up on your feet, hearing the screech of the bar stool as it’s pushed away from you before he turns your body to the bar and cages you in, pressing his hard body against you. Your mouth devours him hungrily and when your tongue reaches out tentatively, he welcomes you in.

He tastes sweet and woody with a hint of spice, making you wonder what he was drinking but unable to focus on much apart from the sensual way he’s kissing you, slow, intentional and yet, intensely urgent.

Your mouths dance together, perfectly in sync in their own private serenade, with your hands exploring and finding their way up around his neck, fingers gripped into his hair to keep him close to you. When he moans into your mouth, you almost lose all composure as you break apart to take a breath and take control by spinning and shoving him against the bar. He arches an eyebrow in surprise as you feel his hand snake around your waist, pulling you back against him. His fingers dig into your back keeping you firmly in place, not that you want to move anywhere else at this moment.

His scent swirls around you, sweeping you up and carrying you away, an absolute hurricane for your senses. Just when it all feels too much and when you're squeezing your thighs together for some semblance of relief, he pulls away, leaving you gasping and full of want.

He pants, breath fanning out over your face as your bodies still remain flush against each other.

The silence between you is so thick you could almost slice it with a blade. Something in your eyes reflects in his, where you both seem to revel in the sudden sexual tension between you. He remains clinging to you and the radiating heat of his body muddles your thoughts and leaves you wanting nothing more than to melt further into his embrace. This feeling between you is nothing like you were used to, passionate beyond belief. How can a stranger have you feeling this way? All you know is his name, and yet, there was something so comforting about him, so familiar.

His thumb strokes along your jaw as his mouth pulls into a smile, the action; so gentle it makes you want to lean into it but you resist.

“Wow.” He finally breaks the silence with a husky whisper.

“Wow.” You repeat, still shocked at your body's reaction to him.

You clear your throat, an attempt to also clear your hazy head and bring yourself back down to earth.

Jackson's gaze flutters begrudgingly away from you. “It worked,” he says, returning his dark eyes to you, holding your neck and studying your face like you were the Mona Lisa. “He's gone.”

If you were honest, you no longer care about the man in question, he is nothing but a tiny speck on your radar, ready to be flicked away, as if he were nothing better than a microscopic bug on a windshield. Jackson, however, is the beautiful sunset view stretched out in front of you.

Your phone vibrating in your jeans pocket makes you jump, snapping you out of whatever trance you'd been in, as you scramble to answer it, recognising one of your friends on the caller id.

“Sorry,” you say to him, as your body suddenly feels cold without him pressed against you.

He smiles but gives you the room you need.

“Hello, Jennie?”

“Babe, I'm so sorry.” You hear over the line, apology evident in her tone.

“Don't worry about it, but where the fuck are you guys?”

There's a pause long enough you have to check you still have reception, you put your finger in your other ear. “Jennie?”

“Didn't you get my messages? We're not coming.”

You pull your phone away from your ear and see you have seven unread messages from her, letting out an audible groan, you return the phone to your ear. “Why? What happened?”

“Rose and Lisa both have that stomach thing that's been going around, they're here at my place…throwing up, Jisoo turned up and fled the scene as soon as she could, not that i blame her.”

You grimace, that does not sound fun, or like anything you want to be a part of. “Ok,” you sigh, attempting to get your head on straight, “do you need anything?”

“A hazmat suit?” She laughs and you can't help but do the same, even if her night has definitely turned out worse than yours.

You notice Jackson glance at you, hearing a one sided conversation but clearly trying not to listen in.

“Na, I'm good, girl. I'm so sorry about tonight, will you be ok getting home?”

You roll your eyes, “I'm a grown woman, I think I can manage to get a cab by myself.”

You hear an amused breath down the phone.

“I'll call you tomorrow, ok?” You say. “Let me know if you need me to swing by at all.”

“No, go on without me, save yourself…,” her voice gets quieter as she hangs up, making you giggle.

“Everything ok?” Jackson asks, genuine concern furrowing his brow.

You sigh, returning to your stool at the bar, “I got stood up.”

He frowns and joins you, taking his seat. “By your friends?”

You nod, unsure whether you want to go home just yet or get to know Jackson a bit more. “Two of them have got some kind of bug.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence between you.

“Before I spotted you,” he starts, “I was about to leave, I'd been staring into an empty glass long enough.”

You take note of the sudden sadness in his tone and your heart strings tug in his direction.

“If you're ready to go, we can share a cab, if you like?” He asks, seeming somewhat hesitant, amusing seeing as he had his tongue down your throat only a moment ago.

“Sure, that would be great.”

You can't help the disappointment you feel settling into the pit of your stomach, clearly not ready to cut the night short with him but, understanding in his current heartbreak state, it may not be the best time.

He grabs his jacket from the chair, draping it over his arm, then pulls out his phone and books a taxi on his app. “Should be here in seven minutes. Shall we head out?”

Nodding, you take the hand he offers you and let him lead you out through the compact crowd on the dancefloor.

The cold night air hits you, a stark contrast to the heat you felt inside, and you feel foolish for not bringing a jacket, forgetting how cool the night air can be.

A shiver runs through you, as you fold your arms across your chest at an attempt to stave off the chill. Jackson must notice, as something caresses your shoulders and when you look down, his jacket is draped around you.

“No, no, it's ok–”

“I'm afraid I have to insist,” he cuts you off with a challenging smirk and you relent, pulling the thick material around you.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly, as you both walk slowly to the corner of the next road, away from the main entrance of the club.

“So what do you do in your spare time, aside from playing the part of ‘knight in shining armour’?” You ask, into the sudden awkward silence.

His responding laugh lights up the darkness of the night, coupled with a smile so bright that even the sun must envy him.

“That's not a title I've had before.” He glances at you shyly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “You want the run down of me huh?”

You nod encouragingly.

“Ok, well, I have a lot of active hobbies, I go running almost everyday, rock climbing at the weekends, I love basketball and I did fencing as a child so I occasionally dip a toe back into it. Aside from that, I play piano and write music, I can speak four languages, I’m allergic to cats, I really hate spicy food, I have an older brother and I work for a fashion company.”

He shrugs at the end like none of it was the slightest bit impressive as you try to process the information.

“You speak four languages?” You ask, unable to hide the shock.

He nods and smiles bashfully. “I mean, yeah, I guess so.”

“How? One is hard enough but four, you’re just gluten for punishment really.”

He laughs again. “Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t find it hard, I guess I'm just very determined.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you pause when you come to the corner and perch on the wall of one of the buildings, the cold stone through your jeans causes you to shiver.

“Your turn.” He takes a seat next to you, watching your face, awaiting your response.

You pause, thinking if you had anything as interesting as that to tell him, feeling slightly embarrassed by your dull life. “Well, I'm not as interesting as you but, I too go running a few times a week and I go to yoga class twice a week, that’s all the physical activity I partake in. I work for an animation studio, which is my dream job and I love it there. I also have an older brother, who annoys the hell out of me but he’s my favourite person in the whole world, although I'd die if he ever found that out.” You both laugh and you can’t help but notice the genuine interest twinkling in his eyes as you talk. “I love lazy sundays of sleeping in, reading and ordering take out. Going out for breakfast is my favourite weekend activity and I’m a sucker for a dessert. I'll choose sweet over savoury every day of the week.”

He opens his mouth to speak but the taxi honking his horn as he arrives in front of you, makes you both jump and steals your attention.

Jackson holds the door open for you and you slide in along the leather seats. Inside it smells of perfume, alcohol and take away, you waste no time opening the window on your side as he climbs in next to you. You tell the driver your address as you're the first drop off and your short journey begins.

“That's quite a statement,” Jackson says over the quiet music on the radio, brow heavy with confusion. “Sweet over savoury?”

“There's not a doubt in my mind about it,” you reiterate, “desserts are the queens of meals.”

“But what about starters?”

You shrug. “I think they're overrated.”

His mouth pops open as he stares at you, the action so comical you can't help but erupt with laughter.

“Listen, I could take you to a dessert place that would literally change your life, and I can guarantee you'd move over to my way of thinking.”

He raises a brow. “I love your confidence. I just might have to accept that challenge.”

Your stomach flips at the prospect of seeing him again as you try to quell the excitement blooming inside you. “Well, you better get ready to lose.” You poke your tongue out at him and do not fail to notice the way his eyes travel hungrily to the action but before either of you have a chance to act on it, the car pulls to a stop.

“I think this is you,” Jackson says, getting out of the car and rushing around to open your door. You take the hand he holds out to you and let him pull you gently from the cab. When you’re upright you realise then how close your bodies are once again, basking in the heat from his body and definitely no longer needing the jacket. You tilt your head up to him and your eyes connect in a heated, yet hesitant stare. His hands linger at your hips, suddenly unsure where the boundary is.

“Thank you, for tonight,” you say quietly, every movement seeming so loud outside your apartment building.

“It was my pleasure.” He smirks and the way your core clenches has you releasing a shaky breath. “Thank you, for taking my mind off things tonight. You proved there is enjoyment after heartbreak, I've barely thought about my ex whilst in your company.”

Your mouth turns up in a smile before you can try and stop it. “I'm happy to oblige any time.”

He opens his mouth but closes it again, eyes still focused on yours but glazed with conflict. “I know the timing isn't great, but would you maybe want to have dinner…or dessert sometime?”

You laugh at the conversation in the cab. Your heart swells in your chest and you take a breath to quell your excitement. “If I give you my number, then you can message me when you're ready, how about that?”

He nods, features soft, kind eyes sweeping over your face as he hands you his phone. This man is so intense, you find it hard to focus on anything, even breathing feels like a struggle when his gaze is on you. You type in your number and save it, before handing it back. He leans in and for a second you prepare yourself for another wild, steamy kiss, but instead his lips meet your cheek in a gentle caress, a featherlight touch that has you wanting more but understanding it's not the right time for him.

You smile and walk over to your building, turning to have one last look at him as you pass the threshold and only regretting it with how devastatingly handsome he looks leaning up against the car, watching and waiting for you to get home safely. As he waves and gives you one last smile so sexy you bite your lips as you watch the door close, separating the two of you and ending your surprising night with him.

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xfgpng · 1 year ago

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reader description :: petite asian female, 21, 5’0, medium length straight hair + pale skin

reader :: jackie lee

commissioned :: ✔️ (as in a follower’s oc lmao, not my own)

wc :: 1.6k

warnings :: smut, fluff, mentions of blood, face slapping, name calling

it had been a few days since waking up in the manor. jackie had tried to wrap her head around just how she ended up in this situation. she remembers the ramen on her desk and the manga being open. she doesn’t even remember the chapter she had been on before everything had went blank.

she wondered if she had perhaps passed out from exhaustion and that she’d wake up any moment but after a few days of cleaning up and following orders from the demon butler, she knew she was stuck.

“you said i could have the day off if i did all the chores early” jackie frowned, “please sebby?”

that was another thing she had begun doing the moment she realised she was in fact in the kuroshitsuji universe. she had always harboured a very strong crush on the character, he was her favourite after all but nothing could ever make up for the real thing.

“get on with it, would you?” sebastian sighs, “have i not told you not to disturb the young master when he’s busy?”

“i’m disturbing you” she grins, “i could be more than just a young master for you”

he rolls his eyes but he can’t help himself. he eyes her frame careful, the way her cute breasts are covered perfectly by the soft fabric of her uniform. the skirt being shorter than necessary because he could admit that he was a pervert and seeing her bend over while struggling to keep the pathetic piece of material down was very amusing.

“i told you to stay in your room when we have guests over” he ignores her remarks, “go now”

“guests?” she perks up at that, peaking her head into the study. she can’t make out what’s being said but she knows it’s important. all the more reason to annoy the butler.

“i’ll go.. if you make a deal with me” she reaches up to grab his collar, “i’d make it worth your while”

“please” he scoffs, “you think i haven’t had my fair share of humans?”

“none like me” she smiles but he can tell that smile is far from innocent.

he’s about to chastise her when ciel calls her into the study. he doesn’t seem phased by the look sebastian gives him, asking the butler to get their guests some tea and desserts.

“cie— young master?” jackie smiles, she remembers him telling her that she would still have to act normal around outsiders. she didn’t bother explaining where she came from and it was easy to pretend that it was sebastian’s doing. the butler could deny it all he wanted but ciel was still suspicious enough to believe her and she played into his suspicions every chance she got.

“i want to introduce you” ciel says and spends the next 5 minutes making unnecessary introductions that jackie knows isn’t even important but he’s doing it to spite her.

 she supposes she was a bit of a brat all week.

“i see” one of the men says, grinning as he looks at the hem of her skirt, “she looks … promising”

jackie grins at the man, feeling sebastian’s eyes on her as she purposefully leans closer to the older man. he was far from her type, her heart belonging only to the demon butler but it was fun to piss him off.

“i thought you said you loved me” he says dryly, gripping her by her waist and pushing her against the wall when she finally leaves the study.

“ready to make that deal?” she asks, ignoring the pain, knowing it’ll leave a mark. she liked the feeling but it just wasn’t enough for her.

“no” he says firmly, “i cannot make —”

“i know” she grins, “it won’t stop me from asking”

“you infuriate me” he lets go of her and takes a step back, “you’re free to leave and starting from tomorrow, you are to wear pants only”

“i don’t work for you” she rolls her eyes even though she technically did, she was still a worker for ciel and the young master of the manor seemed to find her useful.

was he jealous? he was the one who insisted she wore the skirt in the first place. the idea of riling him up was far too exciting.

a demon incapable of love but still had the nerve to feel jealousy? she laughed to herself.

jackie doesn’t wait for his response, walking off to her private quarters. she knew she was pushing her luck, after all, he wasn’t human and it would be too easy to kill her but she had a feeling that despite his indifference, he cared in his own way.

“do you think you can just walk away from me?” he pushes her onto her bed, caging her in. she hadn’t expected him to follow, not so soon after playing this cat and mouse game since she arrived.

she would find ways to make him angry on purpose and she knew how much he hated when she would entertain other men that found her attractive and that was most men, especially when they would travel for their… business.

“is this what you wanted hm?” he asks, “such a fucking slut, parading yourself around like a piece of meat?”

“sebastian i—”

“quiet” he snaps, gripping her jaw and finally kissing her the way she’s been dreaming about for days.

“so easy” he scoffs, moving away but she stops him. jackie was more than ready, lifting up to meet him halfway, too enthusiastic for someone who just met the man.

reading about him as your favourite character was different than having said character in your bed, ready to devour you until there was nothing left of you.

“please” she wraps her legs around him, wearing nothing but a shirt since she didn’t have time to fully undress before he barged in.

“please what?” he laughs, “you’re that fucking desperate for me or are you willing to let any man fuck you?”

“maybe” she smirks, unbuttoning her own shirt, “maybe they’ll give me what i want”

 the slap should shock her but it doesn’t. she feels the sting but the sound was more intense than the feeling but it still made her moan, eyes widening in shock at the pleased look on his face.

“you talk too much” he removes his gloves before the rest of his clothing, “spread your legs and keep it open for me”

she does as she’s told, far too excited to make him angry. apart of her still worried that he’d leave her high and dry just to prove a point.

“good girl” he grins, slipping his index finger into her pussy. he’s not surprised at how wet she is. he knows the effect he has on people, especially her.

“sebastian please” she gasps, gripping the sheets, “i want you”

“i know” he grins, “you’ve wanted me all this time, haven’t you?”

she can tell he’s mocking her but the way he looks down at her, teasing her, only makes her blush, wanting him more. jackie was starting to wonder if she was secretly a masochist, running after a man that was so far out of reach.

not that she cared, she wanted him. he had been so indifferent towards her but he would still secretly watch her from afar, unable to help himself because he needed to know she was safe. the feelings were all too confusing for a demon such as himself to understand so this, taking her this way, was all he could do.

it was all he could give to her because falling in love was out of the question. there was no such thing.

he pressed the tip of his cock into her slowly, gripping her waist hard enough that it would leave marks, proof of who she belonged to.

he didn’t believe in the heavens and he certainly didn’t think there was a god strong enough to challenge him but between her thighs, it could be the closest thing to finding out what heaven really was.

“fuck” he groans, biting down onto her shoulder to control himself. he would never lose himself in a woman like this and yet here he was, closer than he’d like to be.

she moan loudly, he was sure everyone in the manor had heard her and it’s not like she could help it, he was so much bigger than she was and the stretch was painful.

when he looked down, he couldn’t help but moan at the sight. she was stretched far beyond her limits and the tiny droplets of blood did nothing but make him want to ruin her further.

he didn’t wait for her to give him the green light, picking up his pace and fucking her into her bed like some cheap whore at the red light district.

“don’t try and run” he warns, gripping her jaw tightly, “this is what you wanted”

“too much” she whines, not sure if she wanted him to slow down or go faster. her body felt like it was on fire and the more he moved inside her, the more she wanted him.

“good, take it like the good girl you are” he laughs, kissing her as he lifts her leg up. she was just so easy to move around.

he’s very own little play thing and he supposed it was better than finding time to fool around with how bossy the young master was.

here, in the manor, he had his very own jackie and it wasn’t like she could leave anyway. maybe he would trap her soul after all.

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #[ 📍 xfgpng follower reqs ]#reader insert #kuroshitsuji sebastian smut #kuroshitsuji smut #black butler sebastian smut #sebastian michaelis smut #black butler smut #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader

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platinumrosetail · 1 year ago

Note

Yandere Seth x fem reader.

Warning: Same context as the fem reader, older sister of Anubis and Horus. She has a crush on Seth, but despite spending time with him, they even kiss and... you know what hehe? Seth has become estranged and even spends more time with his younger brother Horus than with her. fem Reader despite being hurt and clearly jealous. She never wants to force Seth to love her, she doesn't want to be like his father. But it also hurts her that Seth doesn't love her or so she thinks. Ra takes advantage of this situation. Then, Ra offers the fem reader a reality in which she can be happy with Seth, in exchange she wants his body. Fem Reader accepts since she hates her reality, and even though she will be with a fake Seth, at least she won't force him to love her. Ra possesses the fem reader's body and at first pretends to be her, then Horus and Seth discover that Ra took over the fem reader's body. The goddess, upon being discovered, admits it and without problems tells them what happened to the reader and that she will never return. Obviously Ra threatens to completely not even his real body.

What will Seth do, even if his beloved does not want to return, since she finally has her happy ending with Seth or so she is made to believe.

All this taken from an episode of a fantasy kdrama that I see. Thank you very much for responding to my request.

Ooooh interesting, honestly reminds me of a ending of a Otome game I played once before.

Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere romantic character, and others

Character: Seth.

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You had thought that Seth had loved you after all the times you two spent together but it seems like he doesn’t as he spends most of his time with Horus.

You like that your brother and Seth got along but Seth hasn’t even said a simple hello even when you two pass each other so you were the only one saying hello when you two pass each other, it makes you think that maybe you did something wrong.

You thought it was because you were related to Osiris but considering how Seth spends time with Horus and with Horus being your brother whose also related to Osiris you dismissed that thought and guessed it was something else that made him want to avoid you like the plague to mortals.

You decided to stay quiet about it since you don’t want him to think you’re just like your father by forcing him to do something he’s uncomfortable with.

Seth didn’t want to avoid you but he had something planned for the both of you and wanted it all to be perfect so he was always thinking about what could be perfect for it that he accidentally ignored and avoided while going through ideas with Horus so he knows that you’re going to love it when he surprises you with it.

Ra had came to you one day unexpectedly with a strange but appealing offer, the offer is that you give up your body to her and she’ll give you a reality where Seth loves you and this Seth won’t ignore and avoid you like the real Seth. You almost said no but had flashes of memories go through your head of all of the attempts to get Seth to finally stop avoiding and ignoring you like before all of this started.

You agreed and the next thing you knew you were in the arms of a Seth from another reality created by ra, while in the real world ra had take over your body, ra at first tried acting like you but her acting like you was easily seen through by Seth and Horus, she didn’t really care if she was caught so she admitted that she took over your body but instead like the two thought was by force she informed them that you gave up your real body and that your soul now resides in a reality that has that Seth not ignoring and avoiding her like the real Seth did.

Seth was shocked and couldn’t believe what ra had said and informed him before quickly asking how can he break you free of that reality so that he could make it up to you for having you go through that.

Even if that Seth is basically him but from another reality you’re still his love and he will do anything he can to get you back and make sure you know that he loves you, by making you his wife for eternity once he gets you out of that stupid reality as it’s better you have the real thing than a faker.

(A/n: hope y’all like it! 😁 this honestly does remind me of a Otome game I play a while back so that helps with this request so yay! Anyway I believe that’s all I have to say for now, hope y’all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

#anime #anime x reader #various x reader #x reader stories #yandere x reader #ennead x reader #ennead seth #ennead mojito #seth ennead #ennead manhwa #ennead #x female y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

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webraciszekbastion · 1 year ago

Note

Can I ask for Damon (p:eg), Pocket (drf:sh) and Levi (drdt) hcs with a female s/o that is the Ultimate Novelist and works too damn much she doesn't take a break?

Of course buddy !

I have seen several, such requests and it seems to me, to be charming to write. Immediately admits that I like the fact that you chose Damon for this request. anyway I hope you enjoy.

Fem s/o Ultimate Novelist who works non-stop, without taking breaks.

Pairing: Character x Fem!Reader

Damon Maitsu

Damon is a book fanatic, so when you met, he was curious about your talent.

In the library of the academy you found, many of your books. Oh boy ! Your mistake. The number of sleepless nights, by Damon, to finish reading, your books, is only increasing.(Please, at least buy him a coffee after a night of reading)

Damon started talking to you a lot. He praised you a lot for your interesting plot and imaginative plot twists.

Very quickly you became close to each other. You helped Damon become more open and patient with his classmates. Damon became your Beta-Reader for this.

Quickly, however, your conversations became shorter and there were fewer and fewer of them during the day.

You were very anxious to have Damon read new material at certain times, after which it was again difficult to communicate with you.

It happened that you didn't come to class. This did not surprise Damon. Attendance at class is not mandatory, but when he saw that you came after a few days, with crumpled clothes, a mess in your hair and your eyes stuck on the screen, Damon became concerned.

During breaks, you were either sitting in a corner, continuing to pull the storyline, or taking notes. If you spoke, it was only when you were talking to the publisher or cover designers.

Damon had to take you to the cafeteria when he saw that you were starting to lose weight. No luck. Usually you were able to sit down an hour of notes and leave without even touching the food. Occasionally you moved something while writing, but not much, and most of the food landed on your blouse anyway.

When you forgot about the meeting with Damon again, he did not want to pretend that nothing was happening. This time he went to you.(He cares too much about you, but he won't say that out loud)

When he entered your room and saw you half-conscious, thinking what to write, he was worried. However, seeing the mess and dirty clothes, all over the floor, his worry quickly, turned into frustration.

Damon snatched your laptop, taking a notebook of ideas from the shelf and a tablet from the nightstand. You started asking him to return the items, explaining your busy schedule. Damon, however, was adamant and said that until you have bathed, eaten and rested a bit, your treasures, will not leave his room.

When you heard this, from Damon, you realized how much you had neglected yourself. Because of the mess at your place, you bathed in Damon's bathroom.(No worries. Damon is educated and respects the privacy of others)

When you finished bathing and changed into the tracksuit you got from Damon, you went out to him. Damon at that time prepared for the two of you, something to eat.

He's not a great cook, so your meal was macaroni and cheese and chicken sandwiches made from dinner rolls. It was nice, though, because you couldn't remember the last time you ate.(Don't be picky. Free food is always good)

After the meal, Damon, recounted to you every funny and absurd situation from the whole week, involving your class. You both laughed. Later you watched, some movie recommended by Kai. After this nice time, you stayed at Damon's place for the night.(That's because your room continues to be a mess, and because Damon wanted to be sure that you would sleep through the night normally tonight) You really de-stressed and relaxed in Damon's presence.

You still devote a lot of time each day to writing, but now more consciously with meal breaks in the pleasant company of your new friends.

The hour of 7:30 pm is officially the moment when you finish work for the day. It is also the time when you go to Damon and spend cas together. Mostly you talk about everything and nothing, cuddled in each other's arms.

Pocket

An attractive girl, quiet, mysterious, keeping to herself, absorbed in her own affairs. You definitely caught Pocket's eye.

He asked Rox and Enigme to talk to you.(It's not that he's shy. He just doesn't want to give the bad impression🥺)

Enigma pushed him to talk to you. It was probably the most awkward conversation starter ever.

Pocket, however, managed to make you laugh. It was a little ice-breaking, after which you started a normal conversation.

You like to listen to his stories from matches and training sessions. According to you, he would be a very interesting protag in the book. He for that, like hypnotized, can listen to the plot of your books and new ideas.(In particular, he likes to imagine the character of the lovely protagonist girls, or rather any female character)

Whenever he talked to you, you were engrossed in work. But you always responded, answered and showed that you were active in the conversation. That's why it didn't worry him too much.

His concern grew when he noticed that no matter what time of day it was, you always sat in the lobby, typing something on your laptop.

Pocket is convinced that for the past two days, you have been forgetting to eat, so, he has started to bring it to you in the lobby. He was heartbroken when he sees that you can eat an entire meal in less than three minutes and continue to sit down to write.

Every worry on Pocket's part, you explained to him with a busy schedule and chasing deadlines. Because of this, he began to help you more. When you had something to move, he did it, meals during the day ? Do not worry Pocket cooks well, so he will take care of it. Something to carry, something to bring ? Pocket is at your disposal. Pocket is confident that when you are done, you will finally find time to rest.(So naive and innocent)

Deadlines passed, and in their place came more responsibilities and more ideas that you had to write down. In addition, you could have survived by drinking coffee instead of a meal.

Now Pocket saw you mostly as you walked from the lobby to the kitchen to make coffee. Of course, you had a tablet to write and check emails while you did so.

You go for coffee so often that you finally moved with your writing to the lunchroom. When Twin, Moraiteru and Enigma see you in the kitchen, they just turn away. They are afraid to interact with you.

Pocket wanted to know what they were talking about. When he walked into the kitchen, his jaw dropped. The number of cups of coffee you drank was probably greater than the number of balls Pocket had bounced in a season.

Pocket wanted to get you to take a break, but you were a walking bundle of nerves who only talks about work.

At some point you started to fall. Pocket caught you at the last moment. He started to panic and immediately went with you to Scarlet.(It took about fifteen minutes before Scarlet understood what he was saying)

Scarlet assured Pocket that it was from lack of sleep and an overdose of caffeine. She and the baseball player carried you to their place and put you to bed.

Pocket prepared you the best meal he could and brought you probably twelve packs of water (Scarlet said you must be well hydrated now).

You started going with Pocket to every meal. Of course, he's ready to slap you on the hands if you only look at coffee, sodas, energy drinks and other drinks that have caffeine in them.

With Pocket, you also talk to the rest of the class more often. With Rox, Cancel and Cross, you have interesting discussions about books and other topics you bring up. For that, both you and Rissi have fun when Twin, makes parodies of your books. Surprisingly, the four of you get along very well.

Despite the heavy workload, you are now trying to take a more healthy approach to it. If you overdo it again fortunately Pocket will come and remind you to rest. What would you do without your guardian angel ?

Levi Fontana

Levi recognized you at the beginning of the year. You are his favorite author. It was actually an honor to meet you in person.

Talking about your work, how you take inspiration, how you started your career, was a fascinating experience for Levi.

Levi pointed out during the conversation that you have slightly damaged hair. He didn't want to be nosy, so he didn't pursue topic. He gave you hair care tips for that.(However, it didn't give him peace of mind that someone as put together as you are had hair torn up)

At first, he found it interesting to watch you create a new novel.

However, when he noticed that you weren't going to meals and were wearing random wrinkled clothes, he was worried and a little disappointed with your attitude.

Unlike the previous two gentlemen, Levi doesn't leave you to fend for yourself.

When he saw that you were dressed dirty, he would go to the boutique on the next floor and pick out a change of clothes for you. Later, when he handed you the clothes, he told you to change and do the laundry.

At least you had to eat two meals a day. Of course, in situations where you get too carried away in the land of your imagination, Levi supervises by eating with you in your room.(In this way, your meals together became a routine)

Whether you drink the right amount of water during the day is also supervised by him.

When you spend too long at work, Levi closes your laptop and tells you to eat something or rest. You usually don't have the courage to argue with him, and when you are absorbed in your work and you argue with him, Levi brings Hu to help.(You are well-mannered and respect the opinion of the group's mom)

Levi prefers to keep an eye on you, especially after you once showered yourself with orange juice in the cafeteria and your breakfast consisted of a handful of cereal.

While writing, you tend to wander around the halls. Levi, he's calm because you and Nico usually walk together, so someone is keeping an eye on you.

You once went for a walk down the hall after spending the whole day in your room writing a new novel. Nico tried to point out that you were still in your pajamas. However, you were absorbed in a conversation with the publisher.

Nico couldn't reach you, so they went to Levi for help. They said you were pale, shaking your head and could barely keep your eyes open.(Your little adoptive brother is worried about you 🥺)

Levi was tired of your workaholism. He went with Nico and took the tablet from you, telling you to go to your room, he told you to sort yourself out.

You went to the bathroom to wash and change.Levi, meanwhile, cleared the notebooks, papers, laptop and other things from your bed so that you could lie down.

You started arguing that you still had a lot of work to do on the last chapters of the book and that you still had to proofread two other books. Levi honestly stopped listening to you when he realized you didn't want to go to sleep.

While you were explaining your schedule, Levi took one of the blankets and wrapped it around you. He then placed you in bed, holding you tightly so you couldn't move. You screamed and complained that you couldn't sleep now, but Levi was already asleep, or he was very good at pretending to be. So like it or not, you fell asleep on your own a moment later.

When you got up in the morning, Levi was lying next to you, looking at you. You were grateful to have him with you, because after a sleepless night earlier, you now felt like a new person.

Levi started spending more time with you in the afternoons. He was happy when you two could spend time together, especially when he saw you finally taking time to de-stress.

Now Levi is calm because when you feel tired from work, you call him. Usually then one of you comes to the other's room. You always relax and fall asleep faster in Levi's arms, and since Levi doesn't mind, why not take advantage of it.(Of course he's happy. He would do anything for you)

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starmieknight · 3 months ago

Text

Sing Me A Story (of the bravest of them all)

Chapter Three

Pairing: Buggy x Original Female Character

Summary: Josie Harper doesn’t know what her family's connection to the One Piece world is exactly. That's not going to stop her from trying to figure it out and how to use it to get back home.

She just had to survive what it throws at her first. And keep from falling under the allure of the future Pirate King and his crew.

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

“Joooosieeee.” a ghastly voice whispered.

Goosebumps erupted across her arms and she rose to her feet in preparation to run.

There was a thud, the sound of something heavy landing on the carpet, and followed by a wet squelch. Like a soaked towel being dragged over the floor.

What the hell was that?

Contents: Isekai, Freeform Greek Mythology, Reincarnation, Recreational Drug Use, Ghosts, DubCon, Pining, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut

Chapters: Prologue, One, Two, Three

Josie stripped and sank into the hot water with a long moan of pleasure. It was amazing the relief a bath could offer, especially after a day or two without access.

The bathroom itself was amazing, a dark tiled room with matte black walls and gold accents. It suited the muted air of the mansion perfectly, offset from being depressing by the greenery dispersed around the room. There were small potted trees flanking the big, arched window and the marble fireplace. There was no fire at the moment, but the room was pleasantly warm and steamy from the heat of the water.

The bathtub itself was the centerpiece of the room, settled in the middle of the tiles with a long bench table pressed against it, a beautiful clawfoot painted black on the outside and a pure, clean white on the inside. The scent of sandalwood was prominent, several candles burning the smell into the air from their place on the table and mantlepiece.

Josie sank deeper into the tub, feeling her stress and anxiety float away along with the grime leftover from Buggy’s circus and her time spent sailing to the Gecko Islands with the Straw Hats. She finally felt like herself again and could almost pretend that she was vacationing in a fancy hotel rather than a stranger’s house in another world.

In the privacy of the bathroom, it was all too tempting to avoid thinking about what she had gone through so far.

Still, this was the first moment alone she’d been given — here, she could take a moment to process her situation without intrusion.

Josie thought back on her last disastrous dinner party, her last meal in her own world, to be precise.

It had felt like an entirely normal evening with her grandmother. There had been the usual small talk made between them in favor of catching up. Josie had little interest in the day-to-day happenings of the local country clubs or the social gossip about her grandmother’s associates. And Grandmother held very poor comprehension of the complexities of Josie’s job in administration and customer service towards the parents that used her center.

The older woman just didn’t understand the concept of working for someone else.

There had been a slight… discrepancy to their usual conversation, though.

Grandmother had asked, rather bluntly, when Josie planned on marrying and settling down.

The question wasn’t an odd one — Josie often heard the same from her mother’s family. But the topic of marriage had often been reserved for cousin Sterling and had been dropped altogether after he married his high school sweetheart.

In all honesty, Josie thought Grandmother just didn’t care if she or any of her half-siblings ever got married, let alone had any children. The matriarch didn’t expect much from her most promiscuous child’s progeny except for proper behavior in her presence.

Maybe it was a good thing their dinner had been interrupted — it had saved Josie the trouble of answering.

She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to marry anyone, even if she did want kids of her own some day.

These days, it wasn’t like you actually needed a partner.

No, Josie was perfectly happy to continue her single-woman lifestyle and enjoy the pleasures that came with casual hookups instead of the drama that always seemed to accompany relationships.

Buggy would have been a pleasure, her brain traitorously supplied.

Josie flushed and ducked her head under the water. Perhaps if she stayed submerged long enough, that part of her brain would drown.

If only she could be so lucky.

She couldn’t help but remember the sensation of the man’s tongue and teeth on her skin, her neck still feeling tender from the excessive attention.

She resurfaced with a gasp and scrambled for the small hand-mirror on the table beside the tub, angling it all the places Buggy had paid special attention to.

Her skin was clear and she sighed in relief.

“Thought he would’ve left a mark, hard as he was going in on me.” she said to herself, then giggled at her unintended innuendo.

Heh, hard.

And he had been — strong hands that gripped her legs and breasts so firmly, thick thighs that had felt so solid beneath her, a muscled chest built on a lifetime of working on ships and battles.

Hard, brutal kisses that had threatened to consume her entirely.

“Fuck,” she moaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why did the clown have to be so hot?!”

She dragged her hands down her face and stared at the ceiling moodily.

Even now, after he’d turned on her, Josie couldn’t deny that the man had played her perfectly. He pushed her buttons and got her more hot and bothered in a matter of minutes that she’d been after an entire night with former partners. As much as she hated to admit it, she and Buggy clicked together like flint creating a spark. It was a sexual tension she’d never experienced before.

“Maybe I should have let him fuck me.” she sighed gloomily. “At least I wouldn’t be wondering about how good it could have been.”

She was certain that sleeping with Buggy would have been one of her Top Ten Sexual Encounters — if not among the Top Five.

Josie had never hated anyone enough to find out if hate sex was truly as good as people claimed, but there had to be something about it to keep people coming together like that. She might have been tempted into it herself, had she not been spooked so badly.

To think, she had missed out on hot, kinky sex with a Devil Fruit user with so much potential in the bedroom.

“Every part is detachable,” she despaired, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “That’s so weird… but stupidly hot. Flexibility isn’t even an issue with him.”

Josie whined and dropped her head against the side of the tub. Her fingers ran idly over her thighs as she considered the lost opportunities.

How things might have gone if she had decided against fighting back.

Buggy had been well on his way to getting her clothes off, at the very least…

Buggy pulled back with an annoyed huff, bringing both hands up to the buttons on Josie’s blouse and undoing them with a speed even the most skilled masters of Soru would envy.

She flinched when those hands dove beneath her shirt, sliding along her ribs before pressing against her back, urging her closer again. Josie gasped, head falling back as Buggy laved his tongue over the exposed swell of her breast. Her own hands rose to his head, knocking his hat and bandanna out of place so she could bury her fingers in his long locks. They were cool and as blue as the ocean, sliding over her skin like silk.

Buggy groaned, lashes fluttering, when she gave his hair a tentative tug. Whether she was trying to pull him off or pull him closer was anyone’s guess — even she wasn’t sure what she wanted.

But he was less uncertain and the action certainly seemed to get his motor running.

“Off.” he demanded, lifting his head to watch the slide of fabric over her shoulders. Her blouse came off with little struggle, baring her smooth, pale skin to his ocean eyes — falling along with her bralette.

She hadn’t even noticed him unhook it!

Josie yelped, her face red, and lifted her arms to cover herself.

“Don’t—”

Buggy caught her wrists in one hand and pulled them over her head, forcing her to rise and arch her back to avoid straining anything. Forced her to put herself on display for the pirate captain.

His eyes roamed the picture before him with satisfaction, taking in Josie’s heavy, teardrop breasts and pink nipples.

“Now that’s more like it,” he said quietly, lust turning his voice into something dark and silky. “You’re center stage material, doll.”

Josie shuddered beneath the praise, hips rocking down on Buggy helplessly.

“Oooh, she likes that, doesn’t she?” the clown laughed, his free hand drifting back to his newly exposed prize. “Go on and sing for me like a good girl, hmm?”

Josie moaned as Buggy cupped her breast, running a gloved thumb over her nipple. The bud perked and tightened almost painfully beneath the gentle touch. That had always been a sensitive zone for her, fire burning a path from her breasts to settle warmly in her weeping core.

He grinned in triumph, blue eyes hooded and dilated near black, before putting his mouth back to use on her unattended breast. He laved his tongue over the bud before sucking it inside his mouth, catching it with his teeth.

The sound that escaped her was nothing short of a wail of pleasure as Buggy plucked at her sensitive peaks, switching lazily from one side to the other to get a strong reaction. He punctuated his control of her body by resuming the steady rhythm of his hips, grinding freely against her core as he swirled his tongue around her nipple.

“More…” she finally whimpered, face a furious crimson as she caved to the desires of her body. She felt so weak, giving into the pirate with just a little foreplay, but she had never liked denying herself simple pleasures. She refused to join up with him, but she could at least enjoy the experience while it lasted.

Buggy’s eyes lit up with delight and he pulled away from her breast with a quiet ‘pop’, enjoying the way she shuddered.

“Well, it’s about time.” he huffed, releasing her hands in favor of holding her hips again. The rough texture of his gloves drew goosebumps across her hips, his thumbs dipping beneath the waistband of her jeans to draw circles on the smooth skin there.

Josie responded by sliding her fingers back into his hair and drawing the pirate in for another kiss.

This time she gave as good as she got, tugging on Buggy’s long locks to angle him where she wanted, and took control of the kiss until he moaned beneath her. She nipped at his lip, the grease paint heavy on her taste buds, and slipped her tongue into his mouth. He gasped when she ran the appendage over the back of his teeth, his hips stuttering beneath her. Josie pulled back to admire her handiwork.

The man looked rather dazed, his hands drifting mindlessly over her ass and thighs, petting her absentmindedly. Lips swollen, eyes glassy and face flushed beneath his stage makeup — Buggy painted a prettier picture than Josie ever thought he would.

“Buggy,” she murmured, drawing him from his trance with a more gentle kiss.

He hummed in response, meeting her eagerly with a lick against the roof of her mouth, and urged her closer until she was flush against his chest again. His fingers ran across the inseam of her jeans with intent, finding her clit through the thick fabric.

Josie’s breath caught on a gasp and she broke the kiss to hide her face in his neck, mouthing desperately at his skin.

“Please.” she whined.

“There’s the good girl I’ve been waiting for.” he sighed, voice hoarse. “Just you wait, doll — I never leave my audience unsatisfied.”

Josie bit her lip, eyes wide with anticipation, and pulled back to watch as Buggy unbuttoned her jeans. He barely waited for the material to part before sliding his hand inside, detaching the appendage at the wrist for better maneuverability. Nimble fingers slid right where she wanted, pulling the gusset of her panties to the side and swiping across her sodden core.

“Fuuuuck!” she moaned blissfully, hips thrusting into the firm touch.

Buggy’s gaze snapped over her shoulder, eyes narrowed and a snarl curling his lip.

Josie’s brow furrowed in bewilderment and she looked over her shoulder at the door as a knock sounded.

“Josie, you all good in there?”

The boatswain sat up in alarm and groaned as her head spun. She leaned against the side of the tub, feeling dizzy and more than a little woozy.

A side-effect of sitting up too quickly, she reasoned and blinked the spots from her eyes.

She had been deeper in her head than she'd thought.

The water had gone tepid and flat, the bubbles that once surrounded her now gone.

Josie shivered and jumped as another knock came against the door.

"Did you fall asleep?" Nami asked, a slight touch of concern in her voice.

"Ah, just a bit." Josie admitted, dragging a hand over her face. She frowned at her puckered fingers and stood. "I'm coming out now."

She stepped out onto the bathmat with only a slight wobble, already starting to return to her senses.

Having a bath really did make a difference.

She lost some of the tension that had been plaguing her and was surprised to find herself looking forward to dinner.

It was rare that she attended any sort of formal function outside of family dinner nights at her grandmother's house. Not having the woman's judgment hanging over her head all night would be refreshing.

Even the looming presence of Kuro couldn't dampen her enthusiasm.

Josie had full faith in Luffy's ability to defeat the man — he would have her back and if Kuro did try anything with her, the rubber captain would return it tenfold in favor of his friends.

If she didn't know Luffy's character as well as she did, Josie would find her confidence comparable to the low level pirates who thought their power hungry captains would defend them and avenge their defeats.

She was no blindsided Bellamy — Josie knew Luffy would expect her to do all that she could to succeed while on their journey, to fill in the spaces where others couldn't for all their benefit.

She just knew she could expect the same from her captain.

Josie slipped on her robe after drying off and wrapped her hair with a fresh towel. It would take longer for the thick mass to dry and she needed to get started on styling it right away.

Nami's eyes narrowed at the side of the boatswain and the tired look on the older woman's face.

"Are you sure you're alright?" The redhead asked brusquely, crossing her arms. "You look exhausted. I don't think anyone would have a fit if you just skipped dinner and went to bed."

Josie smiled reassuringly and gently pulled Nami back towards the wardrobe room.

"It's fine. I want to go."

"If you're sure." Nami pursed her lips. A mischievous glint entered her blue eyes. "Just can't wait to see your butler boyfriend again, can you? He's a bit prickly, but I guess anyone's better than the clown."

Josie flushed at the tease and gave the redhead a gentle shove.

"Quiet you. The butler's not my type — I just think something's off about this place. Opening an avenue to investigate won't hurt anything."

"Only if he doesn't fall in love with you and get his heart broken." Nami mocked and exaggeratedly batted her eyelashes.

"We won't be here long enough for anyone to fall in love." Josie scoffed, making air quotes with her fingers. She smirked. "Unless it's Usopp and Kaya, but I think they may be already at that point."

"You really think anything could come from it? She's a rich girl and he's just the guy working for her. I can't see it working out."

Josie hummed thoughtfully. "They may struggle at first. I admit, they do come from different worlds, but the odds aren't impassable. Their story reminds me of Aladdin and Jasmine's."

"Who?" Nami looked at her blankly, causing the older woman to stop short.

"Aladdin. And Princess Jasmine." Josie repeated, dumbfounded by the lack of recognition. "The genie and the lamp? The Book of One-Thousand and One nights?"

"Is that some kind of fairy tale?"

"I am in physical pain right now. You have no idea." The brunette clutched her chest dramatically. "You don't know Aladdin?! What about Cinderella? Snow White? Sleeping beauty?!"

Nami's shoulders relaxed and she rolled her eyes. "Never heard of them. I wasn't one for things like that. As a kid, adventure stories were always better."

"You'd love Mulan, then. Oh, no — Moana would be better. It's the story of a girl from a small island who sets sail in search of a demigod to save her island."

The resemblance to the tale was rather ironic — even shape shifted like Maui.

Despite the satisfaction Josie got from the comparison, Nami looked unimpressed. The girl's expression closed off as they reached the wardrobe room.

"You'll have to tell the story when we're not so pressed for time. Any idea about what you want to wear?"

Josie allowed the subject change without further comment.

The girls fell into silence as they stepped inside the room, stunned by the sheer amount of clothes on offer.

She had been in malls with less options.

It was like a lifetime of outfits had been crammed into the space, what little light there was muted by the layers of fabrics along the walls. It might have been a bedroom at one time, but had been repurposed with long poles running at different level overhead. Fabrics of every kind, from lace to leather and silk to corduroy, hung above the occupants. Nami had disappeared into the lower racks, only the subtle rustle of fabric signaling that she was still in the room.

In the center of the room, sprawled out over a long padded settee, was Luffy. The boy was laid out on his back, staring into the depths of the room with a frown.

“Why would anyone even need this many clothes?” he wondered in genuine confusion.

“Different occasions call for different styles.” Josie muttered absentmindedly, running her fingers over a collection of ballgowns that hung from an upper rack. She disregarded them with a shake of her head, moving on to what looked like an entire row of cocktail dresses.

The more childish part of her heart begged her to go back and at least try a few on, but the more rational side of her mind reminded her that dinner was quickly drawing near. She needed to find something suitable for a stranger’s birthday dinner instead of satisfying her inner Disney Princess.

But, boy was it hard.

“It’s not about need with these people.” Nami called from somewhere in the back of the room. “It’s about want.”

“What are we even supposed to wear?” Luffy sat up and looked at Josie for help, obviously out of his element.

The woman paused her browsing to consider the boy, thinking through the few times she’d seen him formally dressed in the animations.

His sharp suit from Strong World came to mind, but she had little hope that she could convince him into something like that so early in the game. No, it was easier to give him something he was comfortable with for now.

Josie looked back at the clothing racks, fingers combing through the clothes before they landed on a black, three piece suit. She pulled the outfit down, setting the jacket aside before presenting the remains to Luffy.

“Wear this.” she said simply, relishing the way he lit up at the suggestion. It was just his style. “Give me a second and I’ll find some shoes to go with it. Should I even worry about socks?”

“Nah, I never wear them!” the boy denied cheerfully, already shucking off the button-up shirt he’d worn all morning. It looked like something Garp would wear on vacation. Actually… it might be a hand me down from the man.

Josie averted her eyes at his shamelessness and looked at Nami instead when the girl finally emerged.

“Well?” she asked, twisting to show off her black dress. “What do you think?”

“You look like Nami.” Luffy cocked his head obliviously, eyes wide as he searched for the difference.

“It’s a no for me.” Josie shook her head. “That skirt doesn’t suit your frame. Go for something more streamlined.”

Nami’s face smoothed from the irritation that came with Luffy’s naivety, the navigator looking thoughtful as she dove back into her search.

The light from the hallway dimmed briefly, catching Josie and Luffy’s attention.

They watched Zoro pass the room, only to reappear a moment later. He looked rather lost.

“Hey, Zoro!” Luffy called cheerfully. “Whatchu gonna wear?”

The swordsman looked around the room with consideration.

“Something black.”

“How edgy.” Nami snorted.

“Hey.” Zoro looked at Josie suddenly, eyes intent. “Does that butler seem familiar to you?”

“Yeah, I think he was at the last dinner party I attended.” Nami said sarcastically, sticking her head around the corner so he could see her eye roll.

“No, he’s right.” Josie said quietly. She looked nervously at the open door before hurrying to close it. She didn’t want to chance anyone overhearing their conversation. “Which is bad, considering I’m not from around here and the only way I would recognize someone from around here is…”

“Is if they were a pirate.” Zoro concluded grimly. He sat down in the corner and looked unimpressed when Nami came to show off another outfit.

“You’re just paranoid. No way a pirate would be someone’s butler.” She dismissed before twirling. “How’s this?”

“Still Nami.” Luffy grinned.

Zoro looked mildly offended. “I said I’m wearing black. And I’m not paranoid — Harper agrees with me.”

“Why are you calling me by my family name?” Josie asked incredulously. “You don’t call Luffy, Monkey.”

“Your name is childish.”

“And Luffy isn’t?!”

“I hate you guys.” Nami declared flatly before stomping away.

Josie threw a pitying look in her direction.

“That dress was better, but the jacket was a bit much.”

“I feel kinda bad for Kaya.” Luffy stated as he zipped up his slacks. He glanced up at all the clothes around them. “All this stuff, all this space. It’s gotta make a person feel… lonely.”

Josie regarded him somberly. She remembered his words to Ace and Sabo about having no one. It made sense that he would identify with Kaya; with Usopp.

(With all of them, really.)

Nami was less sympathetic.

“Rich people don’t have the same emotions we do.” she said coldly. “This stuff doesn’t make her feel lonely — it makes her feel important.”

“It’s really sad that you think like that.” Josie scoffed. Her cousin Sterling was relatively wealthy and he was one of the most empathetic people she’d ever known.

“This coming from the woman with a steady job in administration.” Nami said, quirking a brow at her. “You wanna tell us how much you make in a month?”

“Not nearly enough.” Josie said bluntly, staring the girl in the eye.

The redhead snorted, some of her good humor returning. “I bet.”

“Well, Usopp likes her and she invited us to dinner.” Luffy continued with his train of thought. He smiled to himself. “I’m sure we can work out a way to get that ship.”

“No way.” Nami denied firmly. “Rich people don’t stay rich by giving things away.”

Luffy smirked at her, the light of challenge shining in his eye.

“You wanna bet?”

Nami paused, turning slowly to look at him with interest. He didn’t seem the type, but if he was willing to play then so was she.

“What are the terms?”

“I bet I can convince Kaya to give us that ship.” he said cockily, moving closer to the navigator until he was practically in her face.

“And when you can’t?” she tilted her head, unmoved by the close proximity.

“We go with your plan — steal one and move on.”

Nami smirked. “You’re on.”

They shook on it, confidence radiating off the teens.

Luffy was convinced that there was more to Kaya than just her money and was willing to stake his dream ship on it.

Nami firmly believed that Kaya only cared for herself and wouldn’t be willing to help them at all.

“My money’s on Luffy.” Josie whispered conspiratorially to Zoro.

He cocked his head at her. “You don’t have any money. Besides, the witch won’t be able to resist stealing something. It may as well be something we can use.”

“Well, if I had any money, I would still put it on Luffy. He’s got too much charm for your heart to handle. If Kaya’s not at least a little in love with him by the end of the night…”

Zoro shook his head, but his smirk said it all. Even he couldn’t deny the effect Luffy had on people — after all, he was a victim of the boy himself.

“What are you wearing?” he asked instead, eyes roving over Josie’s still damp bathrobe.

“I wanted to find a nice cocktail dress, but none of these look like my size.” she admitted, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I may have to improvise.”

“Well, when you have an ass that big…”

Josie looked down at Zoro in amusement.

“You’ve been looking? Damn, it must be nice if it caught your attention, considering all you ever seem to do is sleep and drink.”

The swordsman flushed, glaring up at her.

“It’s not like I looked on purpose.” he snapped. “You’re just always in front of me when we walk.”

“And a good thing, too.” Josie leaned down to pat his cheek patronizingly. “You’re not the best with directions, honey.”

Zoro sat up straight, eyes flashing with fury, but was knocked back by a flying shirt.

Nami grinned at them, a knowing look in her eyes as she watched the first mate deal with the boatswain’s teasing.

He shook the shirt out, raising an appreciative eyebrow.

“Nice.” he hummed before standing and nearly running Josie over.

“Men.” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. An idea crossed her mind. She called sweetly to the navigator. “Nami! Could you come help me? I think I know what I’m looking for now.”

The redhead took one look at the older woman’s mischievous expression before tossing her head back and laughing until she was red in the face.

Sailing with this bunch… was actually kind of nice.

Josie followed Nami down the stairs. She stepped carefully, the train of her dress securely in hand and her focus on keeping her pace slow and steady.

It was, in part, a way to announce her presence with a graceful descent down the stairs. Mostly, however, it was simply an effort to keep her heeled feet from slipping on the rug.

“Oh, wow.” a familiar voice whispered from the foyer below. Josie risked looking away from her feet to find Usopp staring at her and Nami with wide eyes. “You, uh, look great. Both of you.”

Nami looked exceptionally pleased.

“That’s what you say when a girl asks how she looks.” the redhead told Luffy pointedly as she stepped down beside him.

He just blinked in confusion.

“I don’t get it?”

“And something tells me you never will.” Josie teased gently before blinking in surprise when a hand was offered to her. The man at the foot of the stairs was familiar, though they had never met. “Oh, thank you. I don’t believe I saw you earlier.”

“You’re quite welcome, madam. My name is Merry. I am Miss Kaya’s accountant and family lawyer — I just arrived for her birthday dinner. And I was ever so pleased to find her friends attending as well!”

Josie smiled sweetly at the man, charmed at once by his kind and gentlemanly demeanor. This man, at least, was genuine in his love for the birthday girl.

“I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Harper Josie and this is Nami. I think you already met the boys.”

Merry chuckled. “Oh, yes. They’re quite energetic. I’ve known Usopp since he was a child.”

She grinned. The boys had left the girls quickly after donning their suits. They had no interest in waiting around for her and Nami to do their hair and makeup.

“Well, I’m glad they haven’t broken anything, at least.” she teased with a gentle touch to Luffy’s shoulder, earning a grin in return.

“What’s up with your dress?” Zoro huffed, eyeing her gown.

“Like it? It reminds me of someone, but I can’t place the name.” She grinned and twirled to give him a better look. “Did I do good? It’s not black.”

“It looks like Josie.” Luffy grinned obliviously, not really seeming to register the difference. “Your hair is so shiny!”

She touched a hand to her curls, feeling the added weight of the diamond pins holding it away from her face. They matched the simple necklace she’d found.

Josie had chosen a long evening gown with very little embellishment, the smooth fabric a muted phthalo green that hugged her body in a mermaid style before falling to just barely pool on the floor around her feet. The bodice was a simple sweetheart neckline with thick, off-the-shoulder straps and barely noticeable panels that criss crossed over her breasts.

It was a basic choice that showcased her cleavage and her figure without revealing too much.

Unlike her last encounter with a pirate where Josie felt uncomfortably on display, this time she did so with a purpose. The dress was her battle armor for dinner with the enemy.

“It’s green. That’s my color.” Zoro grumbled, crossing his arms and averting his eyes from the way the fabric hugged her backside.

Josie looked over her shoulder at him, mischief in her eyes.

“And black is mine. Are you embarrassed to match? What a shame — I was hoping you would escort me to dinner…”

“In your dreams!” the swordsman barked, ears red.

“Of course.” Josie nodded sagely. “The only way you’d find the way would be if it were a fantasy. But don’t worry — this is reality and I’ll be the one who makes sure you make it to the dining room. Would you like me to hold your hand?”

Zoro made an unintelligible noise of rage before stalking over to a side table full of cocktails. He downed one immediately before going for another.

The boatswain lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

“Oh, dear.” Merry said with amusement. “He’s quite sensitive, isn’t he?”

“Much too easy to tease.” she agreed. “It’s quite hard to resist. I must admit, sometimes I feel like Beatrice facing down Benedick — I hate to let him have the last word.”

“Is your friend in danger of a predestinate, scratched face?” Merry chuckled, catching her literary reference. It gave her pause, surprised that Shakespeare was well-known in this world as well as her own.

She laughed.

“Scratching could not make it worse, were it such a face as his.”

Nami snorted at the jibe, though the boys looked lost behind her.

Their attention was quickly taken by Sham, who had arrived with a tray of horderves, and they hurried to stuff themselves with pre-dinner treats.

“If you will excuse me,” Josie demurred, looking around the foyer with barely disguised interest. The penguin sculptures were adorable, if a bit out of place among the gilded tables and walls painted with detailed scenery. “I’d like to explore a bit before dinner.”

“By all means.” Merry released her hand and pointed to an open door to the side of the stairs. “There is a lovely music room through there, if that sort of thing interests you. As well as a collection of books and pottery. Having such a refined taste as your own, I think you will enjoy it.”

She beamed at him, squeezing his arm in thanks. “I’m sure I will.”

“You go have fun with your books.” Nami smirked sultrily, sidling up to Merry. “I think I’ll stay and enjoy the company. So, you manage all of Kaya’s finances?”

Josie laughed quietly to herself as she left the man to the navigator’s tender mercy.

He was more kind and charming than she expected and she was quite glad to see him there.

It was better for Kaya.

Josie stepped into the music room with a gasp of awe.

One of the things she had loved most about her grandmother’s home was the old world style of it. It was like stepping into a scene from a Jane Austen novel. Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy could step out and nobody would blink an eye there.

Kaya’s mansion was no different.

Modeled in the French Renaissance style, the music room was paneled in red oak, the ceiling above possessing the same wood in a darker stain. Large beams of shining wood crisscrossed the ceiling in a square pattern. On the far wall, there was a beautiful marble fireplace, unlit for the moment, and tiled with blush pink tiles. Above the mantel was a faded print of a towering city shaped like a fountain.

A homage to the grandest city of shipbuilders — Water Seven.

On either side of the fireplace were the books Merry spoke of, an elegant collection of dark covers and gold embossing. The smell of them filled the air, giving Josie the much loved feeling of stepping into a library.

Despite the title of the room, it was quiet. The sounds of conversation from the foyer were distant and muted, despite the close proximity.

A small table, painted with a pastoral scene of a fox hunt, sat before the fireplace. A pair of embroidered chairs with similar scenery bracketed the table. To the side of them was another chair, padded and comfortable with a music stand in front. A well-loved violin rested on the seat, gleaming in the muted light from the walls.

Scattered around the room was a collection of complimenting memorabilia, hand painted vases and beautifully cut sculptures. There was even a harp placed to the side, taller than Josie and the strings shining.

The true centerpiece of the room, however, was the gleaming black Steinway piano in the center of the floor.

Josie’s eyes glimmered as she approached the instrument and sat on the bench.

Her fingers danced a light melody over the ivory keys, an upbeat tune that filled the air. It was a reflection of the joy she’d felt upon entering the music room.

Josie loved music, loved the way it affected emotions and clung to memories. She particularly loved the way it worked in the brains of children — the way rhythm and melody helped teach them.

She couldn't wait to meet Brook.

The thought of the silly skeleton with the outrageous afro brought a smile to her lips.

It would be quite some time before they met, but she had a feeling that the time would fly by and she'd be able to look back on their early adventures fondly.

They just had to get through them first.

The changes in the world were... somewhat alarming. So far, things had been parallel to the events Josie was familiar with, but being invited to dinner with Kaya was a surprise.

It was like navigating the dark with a candle.

She could make her way around the things she remembered but couldn't account for those unknown in the shadows.

Thump.

Josie froze, her fingers suddenly cold against the piano keys. Her quiet melody came to an abrupt halt.

There was something moving in the corner.

Splitting off from the rest of the crew was totally a horrible idea.

She thought back to the crowbar in her rucksack and mourned leaving it behind in the wardrobe room.

In any way, she was screwed.

Buchi and Sham had played Zoro for a fool in the animation — she was just a preschool administrator. Not a fighter.

“Joooosieeee.” a ghastly voice whispered.

Goosebumps erupted across her arms and she rose to her feet in preparation to run.

There was a thud, the sound of something heavy landing on the carpet, and followed by a wet squelch. Like a soaked towel being dragged over the floor.

What the hell was that?

Now uncertain if there really was an enemy pirate in the shadows, Josie peered closer at the speaker.

“... who are you?” she asked quietly, not daring to move closer.

“Joooosieeee.” the voice rattled.

It sounded almost… drowned. Like someone trying to speak through a mouthful of water.

“How do you know my name?!” she demanded, a sense of panic and dread settling in her stomach. Her heart rate kicked up and her voice rose in volume.

“Help ussss…”

"Help you how?" she asked, glancing nervously at the empty doorway to the room.

None of the crew or servants had come looking for her yet — she was alone with whatever was hiding. Even if she screamed and caused them to come running, she'd have to deal with the presence first.

"Open the doorsss..." The voice whispered, drawing her attention back into the room.

A strangled shriek escaped her when Josie suddenly found herself face-to-face with the specter.

The woman was dead — it was perfectly plain to see.

She wore a long gown that may have once been considered elegant and beautiful. Now it weighed her down, torn and soaked with seawater. Seaweed clung to the sleeves and barnacles laced the hem, creating a discord of sound when they dragged over the carpet.

The woman's face was blue and bloated, swollen with salt water and the natural gases that accompanied death. Eyes, lidless and shining like white marbles, stared blankly back at Josie.

The boatswain gagged at the smell of the specter, rotting death and dark water seeping into the carpet beneath them, and fell back. The carpet felt damp beneath her fingers, the water flowing from the specter quickly rising around them.

The dead woman paid her distress no mind, leaning forward to speak again.

"Open the doorssss... and run."

Josie screamed, scrambling to her feet, and bolted from the music room like the very devil himself was on her heels.

She hit a wall and wailed again, fingers clawing at the barrier with wild hysteria.

The wall reached out and grabbed her wrists, forcing a stop to her struggles. It shook her once, her head snapping back and shocking her into silence.

"Josie!" the wall barked sharply.

She panted, feeling half-blind as she focused on the man before her and realized he was no wall at all — it was Zoro, his face pinched with concern and eyes hard.

He had her pinned against the wall with his back to the music room. A solid defense against whatever had been pursuing her. Once again, he offered her protection from the unknown, not even hesitating against a potential threat.

A whimper left her involuntarily as Josie realized they were alone. Her legs gave out beneath her, suddenly jelly-like in their substance, and she felt herself beginning to slide down the wall. Her face felt hot and waxy, like the skin had been pulled tight and solidified in place.

Zoro caught her quickly, pulling her to his chest and holding her upright. He smelled like steel and some sort of cologne that balanced on the edges of musky and sweet. An odd choice for someone like him, but Josie found it soothing all the same.

“There’s something wrong with this place,” she gasped after finding her voice. “I don’t want to stay the night here.”

The swordsman’s eyes narrowed, looking over his shoulder at the empty room before turning back to his crew mate.

Her previously well-kept appearance was flagging, her hair ruffled and her dress bunched up. Her skin, a normally sun-kissed tan, had gone pale and sallow. The most obvious sign of distress were her eyes. They were wide and wild, the chocolate color nearly blown black, and were starting to brim with tears.

The man felt a surge of his own panic at the sight of them and he patted her awkwardly on the back.

Please, don’t let her start crying.

“What happened?” he demanded brusquely, fighting the urge to pull away from their embrace. There was no telling what would set her off into tears and he didn’t want to risk it. No matter how uncomfortable he was.

Still, he needed to know what they were up against. As far as he could tell, she had been alone in the room. Luffy and Nami had remained in the foyer with their new companions, along with all the staff for the house. Which meant that there was another face unaccounted for — someone capable of frightening Josie into hysterics.

Their boatswain, soft as she seemed, had a hidden spine of steel.

This was the woman who faced down an insane clown and came away still swinging.

“I don’t know.” Josie finally mumbled, staring at the empty room. “I saw… something. Something impossible. I know it sounds crazy, but I can tell there’s something more going on here than we can see.”

“Think the butler’s behind it?”

Josie’s eyes hardened, the threat of tears dissipating, and Zoro felt the stirrings of relief flow through him. He loosened his hold on her and was pleased that the woman stayed on her feet.

There was that steel.

“I’m sure of it. Don’t you think it’s odd?” she asked, her eyes imploring him to understand her reasoning. “That some rich girl gets so sick that she doesn’t have the energy to leave the mansion and has to stay in, isolated from the rest of the town? That they won’t let the person she calls a friend into see her — actively keeping him away from her. The only person outside the walls that would miss her.”

“You think they’re after her money?” Zoro surmised, brow furrowing. The fact that they were on the same line of thought seemed to please her, an encouraging smile curling her lips and causing him to avert his eyes. “Making her sick so they can control her.”

“Exactly.” Josie murmured, looking down the hall furtively. Being overheard now would be a mistake. She didn’t notice Zoro’s sudden awkwardness. “Keep your eyes peeled during dinner — we may get some answers.”

“Considering there’s no way we’re getting out of here until Luffy gets something to eat,” the man snorted, turning to continue down the hall. “Not to mention his bet with Nami about the ship.”

Josie caught him by the hand, a touch of color returning to her face as she grinned.

“Not so fast, detective. The foyer’s the other way.”

Zoro froze before doing an about-face and hurrying off in the correct direction in silence, using their linked hands to drag Josie along with him. She stifled a giggle and hurried to keep up.

Dinner, of course, was a disaster.

They made it through the early courses easily enough, enjoying crisp salads and a light broth soup before the main course of a delicately baked fish was placed before them.

Josie, sat between Zoro and Merry at the end of the table, tried not to let her displeasure show.

She’d never been fond of fish, not for the taste nor the texture, and it quite made her stomach sour to have one on her plate — eyeballs still intact.

It smelled wonderful and looked pretty enough on the plate — but she still didn’t want to eat it.

It was staring at her!

What had happened to the hog Buchi had been preparing, anyway?

She was silently contemplating how difficult it would be to slip the fish across the table onto her captain’s plate without anyone noticing when Sham returned to the dining room.

The maid carried a silver tray with a solitary bowl, some strange earthy scent wafting off its contents.

She made to pass the table, but was forced to pause when Zoro stuck an empty wine bottle out in her path.

“Keep this coming.” he commanded, ignoring the maid’s disdainful expression.

“Are you planning on getting any protein in tonight, or are you going for an antioxidant diet?” Josie teased, lifting a bottle to look at the label. “Is this a grape wine? How health conscious of you!”

“Anti-what?” Zoro frowned, causing Josie to giggle.

“Antioxidants.” she enunciated. “They help your body prevent damage from things like diabetes, heart disease and cancer. Though, I’m joking about using wine to do it — alcohol actually has the opposite effect.”

“Are you a doctor, Miss Harper?” Kaya asked, rather interested in the subject.

Josie smiled, remembering how the girl had chosen to become a doctor in the animations.

“No, but being health conscious doesn’t hurt as long as you don’t overdo it. I’m actually an administrator at a preschool, but before that I was a teacher. Making sure the children in my care had a healthy diet was a given.”

“And yet she smokes reef in her free time,” Zoro snorted, returning to his wine.

“And yet,” Josie rolled her eyes at the jab. “There are multiple health benefits to smoking, especially for those with chronic illness or pain. Trust me — if I didn’t smoke, you’d be dealing with a much more unpleasant side of me.”

Kaya ducked her head to hide a smile, ignoring the disapproving look Kuro gave Josie for the admittance of illegal drug use. Her smile faded as Sham reached her, the girl staring at the bowl of soup with dismay.

“I’d love to try the fish tonight.” she hedged hopefully, so earnest that even the maid looked guilty for bringing her something else.

Kuro, however, was unabashedly stubborn and didn’t seem to falter in the face of those big, brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, Miss Kaya.” he said before Sham could reply, killing the younger woman’s hope. “But that is not possible.”

“Maybe just a small piece?” Kaya pleaded quietly, seeming a bit embarrassed by the denial in front of their company but still unwilling to back down just yet.

“It does seem a shame to ignore the birthday girl’s wishes.” Josie frowned, turning from Zoro to back their host up. The blonde shot her a grateful look.

Kuro looked between both of them with careful disapproval.

“Now, Miss Kaya knows that certain foods can affect her constitution.” he gestured for Sham to serve Kaya her entree. “Here — Buchi has prepared your special soup.”

“Kaya, it’s your birthday.” Nami joined Josie in speaking up, the girls sharing an exasperated glance. “You should be able to eat what you want.”

“Surely the fish can be prepared in a way that won’t upset Kaya’s stomach.” the boatswain agreed, arching a brow at Buchi in challenge. If he wouldn’t get back in that kitchen and make Kaya something she wanted on her birthday, then Josie wouldn’t have any qualms about marching back there and taking care of things herself. She was no stranger in the kitchen — Southern women were raised there from the time they could hold a spoon and shell peas.

The apparent chef looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Josie had always been plagued with intrusive thoughts about hitting them when she drove at night. Just once — for the experience of it.

“Miss Kaya’s medical condition necessitates that I closely monitor her dietary needs.” Kuro stated obstinately, a scowl now curling his lips.

“Does that mean you also speak for her?” Nami asked coldly, looking just as displeased with the argument.

At the head of the table, Kaya looked miserable.

Kuro tilted his head, the dining room lights creating a glare on his glasses. Josie couldn’t get a read on him, but she already knew his character well.

Which is where the dinner began rolling downhill in earnest.

Luffy, the sweet idiot, raised his hand with oblivious innocence. “I’ll take her fish.”

Josie dropped her face into her hand with a silent sigh. Of course, thinking with his stomach would be his first instinct.

At the other end of the table, Usopp looked similarly discomforted. His eyes darted between Kuro and the confrontational women with poorly disguised anxiety. He gulped and plastered on a crooked grin.

“Luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to Kaya about?” he asked hopefully.’

The rubber man perked up.

“Oh, yes! Usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.”

Kaya smiled a bit awkwardly. “Um, actually my parents founded the shipyard and Merry’s been running the business since… well, since they passed.” Merry lifted his glass in gentle acknowledgement of the situation. Kaya’s smile strengthened and she brightened slightly. “But, all of that’s about to change. Tonight, at midnight, I will become the sole owner.”

She turned to share a look with Usopp, whose anxiety faded in favor of a fierce pride for his best friend.

Josie nudged Zoro’s foot with her own and subtly inclined her head towards Kuro. There was a greedy gleam in the butler’s eyes that was hard to miss.

Zoro seemed to catch her meaning, nudging her back as he continued guzzling down his wine. His eyes remained sharp and alert, despite the copious amounts of alcohol he had been consuming over the course of the night.

Luffy looked pleased and took a sip of his grape juice before speaking.

“Ah, well that’s great — because we want to buy a ship from you.”

Josie raised her eyebrows, wondering just how he expected to pay. It wasn’t like he had his Pirate Fund (or whatever it was the ASL brothers had called it) stashed in the lining of his hat.

Whatever he proposed was sure to be entertaining.

“I see.” Kaya said pleasantly. “Usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.”

“Nope, not sailors.” Luffy grinned. “We’re pirates.”

Across the table, Usopp promptly choked on his wine and did a spectacular spit-take back into his glass.

Josie was mildly impressed at his lack of spillage.

Then again — world’s best sniper.

At the end of the table, Merry sat down his fork and knife. He looked mortified by the turn of events and gave Josie a betrayed look.

She shrugged impishly as Nami shared a horrified look with Zoro.

It was what it was, now.

Whether they got thrown out or not at the end of the night, it was clear to her that Luffy was only beginning his spiel and they were his captive audience until he was through.

Because, really — did anyone actually have a chance at stopping the boy once he got going?

Josie had yet to see the rubber man fail to bounce back and come out on top.

Even Kaido couldn’t keep him down for long.

Zoro looked to be joining her train of thought, a smirk curling the corner of his lips.

“This ought to be good.”

Kaya was visibly struggling to maintain her composure. “Pirates?”

“Yep.” Luffy nodded enthusiastically. “We haven’t sailed together for very long, but we have already defeated an evil clown, raided a Marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe for a hand.”

Josie nudged Zoro again, the pair watching as a flash of emotion crossed Kuro's face. It was a brief expression of fear and derision before he composed himself again.

“These sound a lot like your adventures, Usopp.” Kaya tried to laugh the boy off.

The sniper chuckled awkwardly, his silver tongue seeming to fail him. “Yeah, that’s… That’s crazy.”

He wiped the remnants of his drink from his chin.

“Oh, yeah. And we’re just getting started.” Luffy seemed to grow on the attention, quickly climbing onto the table with drink in hand.

Josie screamed out a laugh, hurrying to save her wine from the boy's path. She giggled at the staff's appalled expressions and sat back to watch the show with open amusement.

“What are you doing? Get down from there at once!” Kuro was less amused and scolded the teenager. He rushed to Kaya's side, apparently ready to pull her from the line of fire.

The blonde, however, was caught under Luffy's spell, an amazed smile curling her lips as she watched him draw near.

“Being a pirate has been my dream for as long as I can remember. And I’m finally making it a reality.”

Zoro looked similarly taken by the young captain's speech, his wine forgotten in favor of dreams.

“We’re heading out to the Grand Line, where even more adventures await us. And at the end of the journey, I’m gonna find the ultimate treasure — the One Piece. And become King of the Pirates.”

Despite jumping at every clatter of the silverware, Kaya was unable to look away.

Josie noted with amusement that Buchi was also jumping with anxiety as Luffy crossed the table, the man's eyes fixed on the food like a mother with a newborn.

It was an unexpected quirk that made the man more sympathetic.

Though, Josie had no such sympathy for an assassin like him.

“You’re… serious?”

Reality seemed to be dawning on Kaya as Luffy handed Kuro his glass. The butler took it reluctantly, a heavy sigh of annoyance escaping him, but didn't stop Luffy from crouching down and taking Kaya by the shoulders.

“Kaya, you have a beautiful ship out there. A caravel with a sheep figurehead. It spoke to me.” Nami looked annoyed by the speech, no doubt thinking of their bet and her own seemingly lost dreams. “That’s the ship we need to follow our dreams. I promise you, we’ll take care of it. Maintain it, treat it like any other member of our crew — because a ship is also a home.”

Finally, Kuro seemed to reach his boiling point and snapped.

“That will be quite enough! I should have known Usopp would bring riffraff to our doorstep.”

Josie scowled, feeling affronted about being called riffraff, and felt her dislike of the man grow. She didn’t think it was possible to hate the man any more than she already did, but stranger things had happened.

“Klahadore, it’s okay. I—” Kaya tried to reassure him, only to fall victim to a coughing fit.

“Now look what you’ve done! You’ve upset Miss Kaya. All of you — out of this house at once!”

“No.” Kaya shook her head firmly as Kuro gestured for Buchi and Sham to come help her. She met the butler’s eyes defiantly, putting her foot down as the mistress of the house. “It’s late. Let them stay the night.”

“As you wish, Miss Kaya, but they are out first thing in the morning.”

Josie's expression pinched as she tried to keep her smile, but Zoro saw through her.

His hand dropped heavily onto her leg, giving her thigh a quick squeeze. She looked at him questioningly.

"It'll be fine." He murmured only for her ears to catch. "You're not alone."

Her smile regained its strength and she covered his hand with her own.

Merry caught the exchange. His expression fell briefly before he shook himself into a better mood.

"Well, this has certainly been a birthday to remember." He cleared his throat as he stood. "Since the others are busy seeing to Miss Kaya, I believe it's up to me to get you settled for the night. Come — I believe I'm familiar enough with the house to find you appropriate quarters."

"That would be lovely," Josie sighed in relief, thinking about a comfortable T-shirt and some pajama shorts. She looked to her captain first. "Luffy — any objections to turning in for the night?"

"Nope," the boy grinned, gesturing Merry forward. "Lead on."

The rest of the crew released a collective breath, hoping to get a respite from the excitement of the day.

Josie glanced out the window as they filed out of the dining room.

The full moon watched her from the sky, a beacon that called out all sorts of strange behavior in people.

Josie had seen it often enough while working with children — she doubted the effect would be any different on pirates.

#one piece #luffy #nami #sanji #usopp #zoro #original character #my writing #buggy the clown #op fanfic #buggy x oc

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dballzposting · 1 year ago

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Do you think Goten and Trunks ever sneak away from their families to have sex? What if their families know about it- how do they feel? Would they put a stop to it?

HI?

IM SORRY THIS IS FUNNY...

"Would they put a stop to it" MAKES ME FEEL LIKE .. THEY ARE UNIFYING AGAINST A COMMON ENEMY .. Like there's a new big bad coming to Earth. They all unite under a common cause. COULD THEY STOP IT? Would they be strong enough???

Okaaay honestly I do want to answer this one .... Thank you anon for your patience and persistence on the matter.

HOW CERTAIN DRAGON BALL CHARACTERS WOULD FEEL ABOUT / RESPOND TO THE NEWS OF GOTEN & TRUNKS FORMING AMOROUS RELATIONS:

CHICHI

Her mortal vessel would not be enough to contain the amount of disparaging emotion that she would feel about it. She would not be able to fully accept or digest the news. No matter how she responds to it, there will be an element of denial and disassociation: She will either just flat-out deny that it's happening, or she will detach from how she feels about it and pretend that everything is okay, all the while keeping her jaw locked and never actually thinking about it much.

GOKU

Remember when Future Trunks revealed who his parents were? And specifically that his mom was Bulma? Goku was all like WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH !??!!??! But then immediately after he went like "You know now that you mention it, that does sound like something that she would do." Well he pretty much responds the same way here. He'd be like WAAAAAAAAAH !?!??! and then "You know now that you mention it, they've always been pretty close." Same thing

BULMA

Bulma is a difficult character to portray. I've heard other people say that too. It is possible that her writing has only been concrete about a few specific details, and she is not really made to exist in a variety of daily situations. But that seems really silly to say given that almost all dragon ball characters were created to only exist in the situation of battle. But that's okay. We'll do our best.

I think that her response may depend on how exactly she perceives the situation. If she's led to assume that it's some wild frat-boy-type behavior, some churlish prank, some boys-will-be-boys type of interaction, then she would probably elect to just stay out of it. She would sigh and wonder when they will ever learn.

If she was made to think that it was more committed than that, perhaps with repeated offenses or an element of romance, then she would probably feel a little torn. On one hand she loves yelling at people and telling them what to do, but on the other hand, she wants her own son to have all the freedom and self-authority that she has had. She would probably sit Trunks down and have a talk with him that ultimately amounts to her telling him to be more discreet with this sort of shit. If she knows about it, then who else does? She would have to be supportive if it turned out to be a committed relationship, but until then, she doesn't want to know about it. She wouldn't really be proud to hear it. She would think that it's ridiculous and insane - I mean honestly, honestly, you have access to the world, and you pick JUST a Goten? He's your best friend, do you really need him as a lover too? Ridiculous. Son, have some class. Have some taste.

VEGETA

A strictly canon intrepretation would have him be like GAH-!? WAH-? TH-THAT'S ABSURD!!! HOW VULGAR!!!!!

And well that's fine. But I also think that he wouldn't actually care at all.

He doesn't consider his children to be extensions of himself. He allows them their autonomy. He's okay with not caring.

He may feel a sort of disgust at the news, because there is an element of hedonistic indulgence that repulses him, and becasue ... He honestly just doesn't think that that's quite right. But between you and me, Vegeta doesn't know too much about love and romance. Now that he's a married man, he believes that it's right and authentic that he's a male man with a female mate whom he met post-adolescence. And that's true for him. So he honestly just assumed that his son and that Kakarot's son would follow the same pattern. But he won't try to disparage the realty before him. Like it's truly whatever. He does NOT care to think about love as a concept, so this isn't REALLY a mystery to him. It just is what it is. So be it. He never cared in the slightest anyway. And that's a fact

If he found out indirectly via gossip, he would not say anything. If he found out by overhearing a conversation, he would not interject. If he found out by someone telling it to his face, he would just not respond.

The most he would do is advise the two to get back to training.

VIDEL

Videl would be shocked about it but she would be able to digest it. She never would have expected that Goten and Trunks would add to their lifelong bond the passions of desire, or for them to even be able to orchestrate moments of dry but mutual relief - but she would ultimately be fascinated by their ability to overextend their platonic love into such territory, rather than being repulsed in any way. She knows them both and she trusts them to do right by themselves. She just didn't realize that the fraternal bond that they had could have ever produced or housed anything like that. She wonders if she was wrong in her assessment of their relationship, or if she has just underestimated their flexibility and creativity. Evidently they have forged chemistry with each other. Leave it to those two to surpass expectations, right?

GOHAN

Gohan is the only one who would maintain a disturbment actually. He's the only one who would functionally Disapprove. Hear me out ...

It's sort of similar to how when he found out that Piccolo was dating his mom, he sort of regressed and got all petulant and immature and just DIDN'T LIKE IT. He thought it was YUCKY.

Gohan generally has the open mind of a scientist and he enjoys it when other people are taking full advantage of the life that they have. But he is not an undisturbed man and there are some things that he just shuts down about. Usually it's "minor" things so you wouldn't notice the way that a front of juvenile emotions come to the forefront and lead, but it does happen. This is one of those things.

Why? Well because it's YUCKY, mainly.

But also, he has a disproportionate amount of his rocky self-image caught up in maintaining the health of his baby brother. His adolescence was all about keeping the house from falling apart and making sure that his brother would turn out happier than he did. It was a lot of self-sacrifice. Gohan didn't have the time or space to focus on himself and heal until he attended public school and started to make a social presence for himself. Before that, he was either attending to his emotionally unstable mother, his baby brother, or locking himself up in his study and ignoring his own feelings and instincts.

And Gohan really does want Goten to be happy healthy safe and free. And he really does do a lot to encourage those ends. REALLY TRULY. But becasue of all of that he kiiiind of DOES have a lot of Strong Feelings when it comes to Goten's behavior. Not necessarily always becasue he's overly worried or anxious. Or becasue he's projecting. Or becasue he's hoping vicariously for Goten to have what he didn't. Or becasue he's needing Goten to remain a perfect little angel to justify the self-sacrifice Gohan had to deploy in his adolescence (similar to how he needed to understand Piccolo to be the unequivocal hero who could do no wrong in order to uphold Gohan's inner sense of support and modeling that took a hit when he was very young, which is why he unraveled when he found out that Piccolo had a life outside of him and that he had the potential to betray him by fuckihg his mom.) Not necessarily because of any of those things but sometimes yes and sometimes no and sometimes a combination.

So like. Gohan tries very hard to keep an open mind. And in his behavior he does a lot to be a supportive and reassuring figure in Goten's life. But there are also some things that he needs to not change. For example, he is very used to and very comfortable with and very appreciative of Goten and Trunks's eternal broship. That's awesome. It's been so great for everyone. That's awesome and socially appropriate. All is right in the world

If Gohan found out that their "broship" rolled a little against the grain, then on the surface he would come to accept it at face value and respond with the appropriate amount of support or concern; but a knowing eye could see the way that his face goes flat and stiff. Videl notices for instance, the way that his words seem empty, and then how he conveniently needs to excuse himself from the conversation and disappear in his office for three days.

Especially because this ask specifically is about sex and not ambigous romance. Gohan would struggle to hear that. He would think that it's YUCKY and not be able to force maturity about it for long. He would just sort of regress, and his disapproval would become evident.

First it's the way that his face goes flat. Then it's the way that his shoulders tense up around the subject. And then it's the growing decision of his eyebrows to knit, and then the subtle words of confusion, and then eventually the outright -

"Well I just don't get it. It makes no sense. This isn't right. How could something like this happen? I mean, Videl, how could this come to be?"

And Videl would tell him, Um, "Gohan, don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."

And Gohan would leave the room about it. He doesn't REALLY want answers. He's just feeling completely baffled and upset and incredulous, and he reflexively asks for answers when he really just wants the universe to say "You know what, you're right. That is weird. And it shouldn't be happening."

But that's not going to happen. This is reality buddy. And we're all just living in it.

Videl would try to tell him that it's not a big deal and that it's perfectly alright and that she was shocked too but it's not the end of the world, and he would counter with "Goten had a girlfriend just a few months ago. He's just acting out from that. He's not handling the breakup well clearly. He just feels rejected and like no girl will ever love him. It's sad. He's just rebounding. This isn't right for him. This isn't right for either of them, they're best friends, this isn't right. This is a waste of a time and a useless detour for them. And this isn't Goten's heart. This isn't good for him. We should intervene. Videl, we need to intervene."

And Videl would say "Actually, Gohan, I just spoke to them the other day, and they both seemed well-adjusted as usual. They know themselves well, and I think that I trust them to do right by themselves. And I don't think that this is the result of some insecure rebound. As I recall, it was Goten who broke up with his last girlfriend, because he wasn't feeling like it was going anywhere he liked, and he knows what he likes well enough to pursue it. They parted on fine terms. I think that this is fine for him to do, Gohan."

Actuallyyyyyyyy actually actually actually You Know What. You want to know what I REALLY think?

I Think That Goten is an emotional, spiritual fellow. I think that he is a soulchild. I think that he intuits more than he thinks and that he feels more than he contemplates. I think that the makeup of his world is just more passionate and emotional than some others'.

This ask is ambiguous on exactly the sort of relationship that Goten & Trunks are cooking up. Is it the irreverence of youth, carefree and in good humor? Is it like stags in rutting season? Is it a curiosity that dies when it's had its due? Are they committed to call each other boyfriends? Is it chemistry, bizarre in its late onset for how long they've associated, but overwhelming nonetheless?

Here's the thing. Here's. The. Thing. Gohan would respond to such news all the same no matter the details - he doesnt like it, he doesnt want to know about it, he's not happy with it, he's having a period of regression and is obstinate in his negative emotions about it. And eventually, he would show it. From a general iciness, to advice to Goten to abort the whole thing, to outright arguments in which he is firm about how much of a waste of time this whole thing is.

BUT. HEY. LISTEN. If this is really something that Goten is taking seriously, then he would seriously consider all of Gohan's points, becasue he has always given him good advice - but ultimately, he would defer to his heart, and if this was something that his heart is taking seriously, then eventually he would ARGUE BACK and eventually just STAND HIS GROUND.

Eventually he would decide and share that: Maybe Gohan is just being heartless! Has he ever actually known passion? He married the first girl he loved, and ever since they've been so diplomatic and sensible about it. Maybe Gohan just DOESN'T understand the passions of the body and soul like Goten does. Maybe he CAN'T be an authority about this - he's never found himself swept up in the fire. Gohan has always been well-composed and sensible and at times even absent. What could he really know about what's good for Goten, or for anyone?

And the thing is thissssssss would actually make Gohan think. He would actually bring it up with Videl and ask her if he's cold and if they're cold and if they ever actually got love right.

And Videl is soooo smart and intuitive and wise, she would tell him The Truth which is that: They understand love, it's just had to be in their own ways and at their own pace, and they have always respected that of each other, and they have always been patient with each other, and they have always been careful with each other and with themselves.

When they met, Gohan had been literally isolated, and Videl had been kept locked away by intangible conventions. She'd always had to be careful about whom she associates with, whom she shares her name with; and her father had always restricted her romance options. She knew she liked Gohan from the start, but she still paid herself her due and kept a slow pace, giving herself time to adjust, making sure all of her was okay with and wanting to move forward. She and Gohan were friends a while before they started dating officially.

Gohan has always been cautious by virtue of the fact that he is 100% IGNORANT about the art of courtship. So he's had to give himself time to learn and adjust to the whole thing too.

And for him, this emotional intimacy that he was forging with Videl was a big deal, because there have been very few people who have seen intimate sides of him, and he himself even tends to shy away from his dark corners and pits. This intimacy was an overwhelming thing, and he had to take it slow to process it all.

So. He and Videl absolutely got love right. They necessarily had to move at a pace respectful to themselves and to each other. They are both more rational people whose world is built on laws of universal order, so this is what was right for them.

For someone like Goten, this approach would be a soul-crusher, and it is not at all intuitive to his whimsical heart. While he does sit and meditate on a greater order to the universe, to him it's less patient and serene and much more beautiful and livid and visceral, and he wants to breathe and bleed right along with it. That's just how he's built (particularly in his youth).

So. yeah.

I mean Gohan isn't gonna be a btich about it foreevr he would come to not care like the rest. And actually I think that in the event that this is a GT-era type event and Palace is involved, and it's like a throuple thing, then I think that Gohan would be intrigued about how that sort of relationship pattern would come to be. He would take a detour from his current studies to dig a little into the various forms of romantic relationships throughout human history and their greater social purpose. Furthermore by that point he would be used to Goten being an adult and he wouldn't care what he gets up to becasue of it.

Hope that answered your question

Stay lovely <3

#dballz posting #dballz asks #goten & trunkz #gohan & videl

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ladyalienist · 6 months ago

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The thing is I have to periodically remind myself that it doesn’t matter if they loved me or not, that it does not change the fact that they hurt me anyway.

It doesn’t matter when I think about my father. It doesn’t help. The father who told his four year old daughter stupid stories set on a rocketship where everyone ate only chocolate cake and who told his eighteen year old daughter that his favourite character in the book I lent him was his favourite because it reminded him of her… was the same father who consistently remarked failure and made relentless fun at said daughter’s interest, who threatened anti-drug tests at any perceived slight, who had little to no issue yelling and hitting. It doesn’t matter that he loved me the whole time, that he tried, with all his might, to be a good father. He hurt me. I bear scars that resemble his own and he still has a hard time recognising my humanity in spite of that.

It doesn’t matter when I think about my adolescence, about my social circle. I fucking survived having the fanfiquesque codependent homoerotic rivalry to friendship to what-the-fuck-is-this-shitshow, and a weird love-hate relationship, veering into fucking domestic violence while we never lived together, with the biggest bully I’ve ever encountered, AT THE SAME TIME. It was a horrifyingly entangled situation.

And it doesn’t matter that they both cared, in the only way they could. It doesn’t matter. She pulling me on the mattress for an early morning cuddle session and telling me she’d make me pancakes and choosing to spend her eighteenth birthday (of all birthdays!) with me didn’t prevent her from throwing me away when I became an inconvenience.

He getting terrified whenever he deemed me in danger, sharing books and cigarette packs with me, taking the blame for things we did together, didn’t stop him from being an insane pain in the ass. It didn’t stop the constant mocking, the constant remarking that I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, female enough (ah, how dared I being GNC in front of his religious upbringing!), that I was a monstrous being.

In retrospect he loved me with all his might, in the confused, painful way a sadistic nature nurtured with male socialization can love.

And it doesn’t matter. Because I wanted to kill myself, all the same. And he gets to have the same friends he had at the time, while I had to cut ties, one by one, and this loneliness will follow me wherever I go. I can create a new history, sure, but it’s not the same: sixteen years of my life belong to this monstrosity, and the damage it has done cannot be erased with a sponge hit. I can try to avoid the patterns, but they will follow me all the same, and creating new, healthy connections will always be a bit more of a challenge, something that doesn’t come natural to me.

But boy, do I think about those memories a lot in this period of my life. And it was a bit easier thinking that they never gave a fuck and it was all cruel mockery, pretending in order to get a good laughter behind my back. I have to live now with the awareness that him loudly complaining about me blathering about the importance of having a good environment to grow in was the only way he found to tell me I’d like to make you happy. I have to live with the knowledge that every time he saw me with younger children, with his own brothers, he got quieter because he imagined something he knew he couldn’t have – I think you’d be a good mother. Cannot imagine your husband, but your children, yes.

I have to live with the knowledge that she and I made everyone around us uncomfortable and she sheltered me from most of the mean comments. That I caused pain by going away. That she was used to me coming and going, and then I just wasn’t there anymore. I had different friends and a different life, and while I felt excluded from some of her achievements, she felt like she didn’t belong either.

And it doesn’t matter. I have to periodically remind myself. But the hurt is way different.

#ladyalienist has problems #I wasn't unlovable but loving me was socially unacceptable #That was it #And it just... puts my identity in a different perspective

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parachutingkitten · 1 year ago

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I guess we've just got some fundamentally different reads on the situation- and that's all good. To be clear, none of what I'm about to say is to disprove your points here, it's just an alternate perspective. Two reads can be equally valid, but I do feel a need to explain mine.

The most crazy thing about the ninja decision isn't necessarily that Wu pushed it on her against her will, it's the the writers thought she wouldn't want the water powers in the first place.

From day one this girl has wanted to be included on the team. She made her own alter ego so she would be included on the team. It's established in the time travel episode that if Kai hadn't been motivated to train to become a ninja, Nya would be the one doing it. She constantly talks about being locked out of the boys club, but even though she comes to terms with that, she obviously was trying to get in at some point. She hates getting left behind, she hates getting singled out as different from the boys before and after becoming a ninja. She's also a ridiculously persistent character who will go through with difficult things, especially when it gives her the chance to prove someone wrong.

So when she's given the knowledge that she has the one elemental power that can resolve the situation in season 5, especially with the other elemental powers out of commission, it seems insane to me that she wouldn't be jumping at the opportunity, rubbing it in the guys' faces, getting so good at it that it actively makes Wu rethink keeping it from her for so long. You could make a great arc out of this too! Maybe she isn't making progress as quickly as she wants to because she's actually trying too hard, and then Ronin's 'stop caring' advice would actually make sense.

season 6 sucks for Nya in so many ways I can't even begin. But it does showcase her active desire not to be seen as separate from the rest of the team, to be treated like an equal. This is what she's always wanted- samurai x was a band-aid on the issue.

I actually really like the season 7 samurai x arc (I'm also a huge pixal stan, so I am a bit biased here) At it's core, Nya has to realize that her nostalgia for her out of use alter ego does not outweigh the tangible good that someone else using it can do. Nya is a stubborn character, so this makes sense as a narrative beat to take. And if you want to read into things even further, you have a female character who has extremely restrictive access to the team and wants to be able to participate and affect things in a more tangible way. That's exactly why Nya built samurai x in the first place, and by trying to hold on to it for longer she is actively preventing someone else in the exact same quest she had in season 1. That's a pretty solid character dynamic in my book.

The reason why she feels less independent post season 7 is that the growing pains of her joining the team have finally subsided, and that invisible separation between the ninja for the a-plot and Nya for the b-plot is gone. She's literally less independent because she's actually allowed to go on the same missions as the boys on a consistent basis. She is not forced into being separate anymore. She's not constantly on edge about having to push herself to be included or prove that she's strong enough to help because her teammates (and the writers and the narrative) finally believe her. She's allowed to like... breath.

Her Seabound arc, yes is about her struggling with her powers, but it's also about her using her powers in ways unique to her, and... I mean let's not pretend "ninja have issues with their powers" isn't a show staple. This isn't a targeted plotline in nature, but it is a plot which focuses on her specifically, allows us plenty of time to explore her individual thoughts and feelings, and allows her to actually exercise agency in a meaningful way, against the will of everyone else on the team. I have my gripes with seabound, but it's not out of step with the rest of the show in terms of what a character focus season looks like.

I also don't think Nya loosing her techie role is necessarily a bad thing. Her most pronounced techie phase was in season 2, when she built vehicles for the boys constantly off screen while not really getting to use them herself, and the plot literally forgot that she was samurai X after episode 2, it never showing up after that point, and ultimately reducing her yet again to kidnapped damsel for the finale, in which she didn't get a line of dialogue at any point after being de-evilized.

The separate role makes it infinitely easier for the plot to ignore her all together and reduce her to save-able side character. Pixal goes through the exact same Samurai X limbo in season 9 where she does nothing and gets kidnapped half way through. It's not a stable position for these characters.

I hate the idea that in order to express Nya's full potential she needed to be given this separate 'girl' designation. That yes, she can be strong, just not in the same way that boys are strong. We can put her off in her little samurai x corner so she doesn't mess with the great male dynamic we have going on. No. She is perfectly capable of doing everything they are, and the fact that they keep giving this girl arcs where she think she can't obtain new abilities like her peers is honestly insulting.

Nya doesn't want to check if she's the green ninja because she sees herself as an equal member of the team and is happy with where she's at. But she also doesn't want to check, because she's actively scared of what her brother's reaction might be if it is her. Her brother's emotions scare her away, and she's humble enough not to step on anyone's toes. It's not a decision about independence, to me it seems like a decision meant not to rock the boat.

Yes, the ninja title made Nya less independent, but when her independence was previously forced on her by a structure unwilling to accommodate her presence, I just don't see that as a bad thing.

A rant all about how Nya's character was ruined.

This summarizes and extends upon a conversation had on this post, by @parachutingkitten

Nya's entire character in Seasons 1-4 was about her being strong on her own merits and independent and being her own person, instead of being what others expect of her or trying to imitate her peers' strengths. She even deliberately turned down the chance to check if she was destined to be the prestigious Green Ninja, because she was happy with being a Samurai instead, cause that was the identity and strength she built for herself.

The uniqueness in her skillset and role on the team was in itself a crucial part of what MADE her character strong and independent. It was a path she chose for herself in contrast to any of the outside influences she had.

Season 5 making Nya a Ninja, especially under Wu's insistence and explicitly against her will, sabotages every part of all of this.

Now She's a shell of her former self with everything that made her character actually interesting either stripped away outright or turned into a bland and weak facsimile. All she has left to give her even a modicum of character depth is some vague sense of independence that is constantly shown-not-told and/or outright undermined.

She rightfully gripes about being forced to be the gray Ninja in seasons 6 and 7, but both seasons then proceed to deliberately undermine her independence, with Season 6 ending with her will being overridden by Jay's and Genie magic, and Season 7 introducing a new Samurai X.(Which I have more to say about later.) Nya's discontent with her situation gets dropped entirely, with Nya effectively resigning to her fate.

From then until all the way in Seabound, there's no pushback against her independent nature to highlight that she IS strong or independent, and nothing else to give her any other character depth. She literally becomes a glorified water fountain that also happens to be married to the electric one.

And then Seabound is somehow even WORSE.

Seabound's ENTIRE plot is literally summarized as "Nya getting screwed over by her powers: The Movie." Powers that she wasn't originally supposed to have, mind you, not just out-of-universe, but as this Season reveals, apparently IN-universe. (I don't even KNOW what that's about.)

The story yet again does an ass job at portraying Nya as independent and then screws her over. Yet even worse than Seasons 6 and 7, because it literally amounts to her being mildly annoyed at her mother's presence and the brain-dead arc-phrase of "I don't like crumbly cookies," culminating in her resigning to her apparent fate yet again and literally sacrificing her sense of self and identity to her elemental powers.

Seabound's ending is frankly one big metaphor for what Season 5 did to her character.

They also, weirdly consistently, screwed Nya's character using Pixal. Prior to Season 8, she was flat as cardboard and yet was undeservedly given the Samurai X mantle. Then the Season 8/Movie redesign traded in Nya's iconic and unique hairstyle for one literally identical to Pixal's. And Pixal even stole Nya's role as the Mechie,(despite already being the techie) a field where she reaches ridiculous heights by the time of Crystalized. (Speaking of which:)

Crystalized puts a cherry on top of this character-assassination sundae by finally separating Nya from that accursed element, and having her even make the choice to take back her Samurai X identity, but then it, despite the main threat of the 2nd chapter literally being the exact situation where Samurai Nya should be MVP, randomly proves pointless and ineffective, forcing Nya to come running back to her elemental powers. (Even worse, for the sake of CRYING FOR HELP.)

It's like she has some kind of toxic relationship with the element of water that fate and the writers are actively pushing and preventing from being severed.

#nya is not my feminine rep at all #but i will go to bat for her so hard #she deserved so much better #also yes #the pixal nya hair thing bugs me so much #they should have just gave pix a hair change too #give her a messy bun you cowards #there's nothing stopping you #also crystalized sucks for nya any way you slice it

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elainsgarden · 3 years ago

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Do you think it's okay for people to hate Elain?

Here's the thing, *cracks knuckles* some people are always going to hate characters. Even the most beloved character will have some haters because that's just human nature. However, I 110% believe that 99.9% of the hate that Elain Archeron gets is unjustified.

We've all seen the screenshots and hate tweets that she receives on the regular, but even just the most random comments about why people hate her are unfair. From something as simple as, "the Inner Circle didn't blame her like they did Nesta" so we're blaming Elain for that and not them? When Elain herself is the one who said "I'm to blame too not just Nesta for not doing more for Feyre."

"She's just boring I hate her."

Now...this one is hard to dispute because if you find a character boring that's on you and I can't argue that. But what I will argue is that I've never had a character that I find boring that I spend so much time talking about or hating. If I find a character boring, I simply forget about them or don't even care to talk/argue about them at all...because they're boring. I do like to discuss characters that are horrible people or ones I love, but never ones I simply find boring. I think many also find her “boring” because she’s not a warrior like many of the SJM females. She likes to do girly things, bake and garden and not engage in battle and training. And that’s OK. Women in the fantasy genre in general are usually treated terribly by fandom and it’s sad to see. And adding to this, SJM has purposely given Elain an arc and story about her playing a part because she thinks that's what's expected of her. Rhys himself addressed this in the Feysand bonus chapter:

"She's mean to my favorite ginger Lucien"

Now THIS one gets me heated. Never should a female character be judged on if she's uncomfortable or wants to be around around a male character. She's been polite when she had to be but she clearly does not want to be around him at this time. Now maybe you can find an argument that, "why doesn't she just tell him no" why should a woman have to? Lucien himself knows Elain doesn't wanna be around him, so fandom should respect that. Elain was thrust into this world of fae customs and beliefs and is still very much mourning her human life. She doesn't want a mate. We also know that Lucien is very much connected to her trauma of being made against her will. Did he know any of that was gonna happen? No, but regardless he's a part of it. I don't vilify Lucien for wanting a mate and mourning that Elain might not want him the way he does, but we can't blame Elain for not being more forward when Lucien himself hasn't confronted the situation either. He has to understand she's mourning her fiancee and is not interested. Let's stop blaming the women in these instances. Sarah is clearly saving this drama for Elain's book. It's all been set up. And btw, she isn't mean. She's been polite, but again she's not comfortable around him and what "mates" are in this world. I remember seeing Mor vilified for not being more open to Azriel or "stringing him along" and that pissed me off too. I will always stand by women. These men are hundreds of years old, they can read signals and tell when a woman isn't into it.

"She didn't fight for Nesta the way Nesta did for her"

Elain quite literally got over her fears of battle and bloodshed and stabbed the king in the neck right before he was about to kill Nesta and Cassian both. If that's not the biggest showing of love from Elain for Nesta then I don't know what is. I think fandom quite often forgets that Elain is still very much traumatized like Nesta as well. Nesta's trauma is manifesting as drinking and sleeping around and lashing out, Elain's is retreating into herself and pretending that everything is fine. Fandom wants to blame Elain for Nesta's inner thoughts and self doubts in ACOSF when Elain DID try but she was pushed away repeatedly by Nesta. Why are we blaming Elain for that? You can only take people yelling at you for so long before you take the hint and stay away.

In conclusion, Elain Archeron is a good person, a good character with so much room for potential, and so much more than shipper bias and hate. I eagerly await her story and journey and the people that hate her are gonna do so regardless, but I’m happy to know that they’re being silly and mostly misogynistic the entire time they’re doing it.

#elain archeron #pro elain #elriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of silver flames #acowar #a court of wings and ruin #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #nesta archeron #lucien #acofas #a court of frost and starlight #sjm #elain x azriel

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moonlayl · 2 years ago

Text

Just watched the first episode of She-Hulk and I’m wondering what exactly about it is making people angry? (Aside from the obvious of course)

We’re back to (actually, I think we never left) audiences absolutely being incapable of putting themselves into a female character’s shoes.

Jen, at this point, literally suddenly had a spaceship spring out of nowhere, got into a terrifying car accident, and became a HULK.

She then wakes up in an unfamiliar place, and has Bruce repeatedly be kind of horrible at breaking everything down for her (understandable from his perspective, this isn’t a criticism of him). She’s told that she might have to be isolated from everything, her job, her friends, her family, her LIFE, for YEARS.

Bruce repeatedly makes the assumption that her becoming a superhero is inevitable, to her face, something she’s not at all okay with, something she doesn’t want, something she never asked for, all in the manner of DAYS.

He expects her to go through the same exact journey as him, and when clearly, she’s actually handling it differently because a) they’re not the same people b) they’ve had different experiences and c) the world (in universe) itself has changed, and after several different scenes of that, after several days of her suddenly being expected to drop everything and change her entire life (something none of us would be okay with. Something none of us would handle well) she snaps at him.

A lot of the things she said were mean, yes, that’s true. But for the most part she wasn’t wrong.

I think they were both a little wrong in that scene and both need to understand/respect each other better. But no, her saying she’s had to control her anger all her life, be it when she’s catcalled, or when so obviously her male coworker doesn’t respect her or see her as an equal/capable, isn’t her “rubbing Bruce’s trauma in his face”

She wasn’t wrong about Bruce’s life being terrible and him living in isolation. He kept trying to defend it, saying “that’s the life of a superhero” or something along those lines, but it IS true that him being the hulk and even later a superhero ruined his life in certain ways, and it makes a lot of sense for her to not only NOT want that, but to also stop him from trying to convince her to go through that.

Bruce is at a point where he needs to understand that the world changed, that things aren’t like before, and that he can’t expect Jen to just be okay with all those changes immediately, even if he’s there to help her.

But Jen needs to understand that denying the Hulk (like Bruce said) isn’t going to work and it’s not a permanent solution. And she does need to understand that he DOES have experience with this.

They both made brilliant points but both sort of missed what the other was saying. Honestly, their argument and fight was very believable.

Bruce also did a bad job at breaking it down for her. “15 years” would make anyone freak out. He repeatedly tried to get her angry, which yeah, he did it for a reason, but that still contributed to her eventually snapping.

This is new territory for her and she’s clearly desperate to get back to her life and is terrified (though she does a good job of trying not to show it and pretending it’s okay; basically living in denial) Actually, this is new territory for both of them. I thought both their actions, words, and reactions were very realistic given the sudden, unexpected situation they found themselves in.

And no doubt, this will be addressed later in the show, and we’ll get scenes where she understands what he’s been through better.

It’s not surprising though, why many dislike this show. Is it flawed? Yes. But I’m guessing the scenes that include her being catcalled, other women immediately willing to help her in the bathroom and saying “whoever did this to you does not care about you”, her facing disrespect in a male dominated workplace, and her pointing out that she always needed to control her emotions otherwise she’d be seen as emotional or her life could actually be threatened, pissed off a lot of people, and those are the scenes people had issues with. Even though not a SINGLE one of them wasn’t realistic or accurate.

It’s not surprising, why many review bombed this show.

#she hulk #mcu #marvel #marvel meta #mcu meta #jennifer walters #bruce banner #she hulk spoilers #she hulk show #tatiana maslany

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healpeony · 3 years ago

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐔𝐘𝐒.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬; Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Porco Galliard, Levi Ackerman.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; you pulling different tik tok pranks on some aot guys.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; crack, suggestive 18+, different emotions, light impact play (only for Armin's), profane.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; I'm going to make a part 2 with other characters. Also the gender of the reader is neutral, I'm so sorry if I refer to them as a female by accident!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; @mallang

Masterlist

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤; in this prank person 1 pretends to break up with person 2 to see how person 2 reacts.

— You had to start earlier on the day by just ignoring him or not really giving him attention (since this man knows every prank on the book)

— Eren is really dramatic, so you would've expected him to react that way. obviously that doesn't happen in this situation

— You set a camara on a coffee table right behind a pot of flowers

— You were sitting next to him on the couch watching Netflix and that's when you decided to start the prank...

— “Eren..”

Eren looked at you from the corner of his eye, he was really weird out by the way you were acting earlier since you don't really act that way, and it's now that you decided to give him attention? right when the best part of the movie was about to happen

“wait a minute, baby” he told you, his attention returning to the television

“Eren this is important.” you took a deep breath trying to add a dramatic effect “I want to break up with you”

Eren jumped with a big smile on his face “Oh my gosh! did you see tha—” the words stopped coming out of his mouth as his smile dropped when he processed your words

“what..?”

“i'm sorry, Eren. Everything has just been different, it just doesn't feel like it used to be”

Eren's eyes were watering at your words, what had happened to you both?

“Was it me? I...I bet it was my stupid overprotective self, I'm so sorry, baby. I promise that if you give me another chance, I will do better.” he pleaded grabbing both of your hands in his, kneeling infront of you on the couch

The way his voice was cracking was breaking your heart, but you wanted to go on for just a little more.

“Eren you don't get it, this is the problem, You're always trying to change decisions that I make or you just don't take my opinion on things at all and I'm tired of it!” you took your hands away from his and stood up, giving him your back so he doesn't see you breaking character

“Ohh... I'm—I'm really sorry for making you feel that way. If you want I.. I can leave”

— that's enough

— You would turn around only to find Eren looking down, his body trembling

— “Eren, baby. Look at me, it was just a prank” you laughed pointing towards the camara

— He would stay still for a moment, looking up at you with a tear still running down his cheek, before he chuckled and pushed you

— “Don't ever do that to me again, I thought I was about to lose you...”

— please hug him!

— After this he just has to teach you a lesson for scaring him like that 👀

— “You should've really thought about the consequences of your little prank”

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓

𝐲𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱; during sex person 1 is going to act unsatisfied and would pick the right moment to yawn to see person's 2 reaction.

— The blonde man isn't one to be fooled easily, he's smart as hell and can read people (especially you) like a book

— Armin was soo confused, what was he doing wrong?

— You seem to not be getting any pleasure from the way his moving his hips against yours

— You were trying hard to hold your tongue and not moan

— It was difficult since Armin really knew how to hit that sensitive spot inside of you

— When he started to go faster was when you decided to do it

You stretched your arms and let out a yawn while Armin's eyes widened looking down at you, stopping his movement

“did you just yawned?” he furrowed his eyebrows

your eyes widened with a fake apologetic look

“i'm so sorry Armin, it's just that you're not really hitting that spot today” you whispered

this man was deeply hurt, so he was doing something wrong

he was about to apologise and promise to do better when he remembered Jean talking about this exact same prank last month

Armin clenched his jaw, his now narrowed blue eyes looking down at you.

they were soo intimidating sometimes.

you laughed realizing that he knew, well at least you tried

“sorry Armin”

— oh oh.. You were in for it

“You think that you can just play with me like that?”

— His hand would come in contact with your cheek, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to leave a burning feeling there

“You fool”

— Good luck walking the entire week!

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞; in this prank person 1 calls person 2 someone else's name to see their reaction to it.

— Jean.. oh this man is a blessing..

— He trusts you and you know it, but he can't help but let his jealousy take over him sometimes

— So you know what his reaction most likely will be

— You were sitting with him in the balcony. He was finishing a painting he's been working on for a while when you decided to do the prank

— You positioned the camera in an angle where it would take in Jeans reaction, and you had to be be careful to not attract his attention to yourself

— You stood up walking behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle

“Jean, are you almost done?” you asked him resting your chin on his back knowing how much he hated that

“Yeah, baby. You can stay there is comfortable, but can you take your chin off my back.” he politely asked turning his head slightly to look at you

“Why? You love when I do this, Eren”

— Frozen. That's his reaction to you calling him Eren's name.

“Did you just call me Eren?”

— This man took your arms off of him and turned to looked at you with a hurt look

“Do you do stuff like this with him?”

“no, no baby it's just a prank. see?” you told him pointing to the camera

— please apologize

— He will want to hold you and not let you go after this

— He's precious. Protect him. Is your new job.

𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝; Person 1 tells person 2 this out of nowhere to see their response.

— Porco is a horny man, you know it

— You set up the phone camera infront of the tv while you and him sat a little away from it (enough for him to not notice your phone)

— You both were eating fruit together when you told him

“Porco, I'm in the mood”

— This man choked on the piece of mango he had on his mouth

Porco grabbed the water bottle next to him and took a gulp of it

“Right now?” he asked “where is this coming from?”

“You looked really hot licking that mango”

The hazel eyed boy smirked, winking at you

“Sure I'll give you what you want, come on”

— Porco started to stand up when you couldn't hold your laugh in anymore

“I'm joking, it's just a prank”

— My dude just stood there looking from your phone to you before rolling his eyes

“You can ask someone else for dick this entire week, I ain't giving you nothing”

— start apologizing. now.

— he might forgive you

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝; in this prank person 1 calls person 2 infront of other people/another person to see their reaction.

— Levi is really calm, he doesn't care what you refer to him as long as it let others know that you're romantically together

— So he won't appreciate you referring to him as a friend in public

— You were both at a restaurant talking about what you guys wanted to order, when you decided to do this prank

— You were praying that this man didn't embarrass you infront of everyone

"Hello, do you already know what you would like to order?" the waitress asked looking at you both with a kind smile

"Yes, I would like the chicken alfredo pasta and my friend would like the same thing” you smiled back at her

“Any drinks?”

“Wine for me. they would like water.” Levi answered

“Your dinner would be here in a few minutes” with that said she left

— The look Levi gave you was scary

“Didn't you say that you weren't drinking tonight?”

he ignored you question, asking one of his own “Why did you say that?”

“Say what?” you played dumb

“That I'm just a friend.”

“ohh... I'm sorry, it just slipped” you gave him a awkward smile trying to not laugh

“It's this one of your little pranks?”

At that you let out a snort before full on laughing

“you damn brat, you do this bullshit and I'll break up with you. I wouldn't even think about being your friend” he said rolling his eyes

“sure, when I do this again you will be my husband! And I'm not signing a divorce” you joked

— You didn't see it, but Levi had a small smile in his face, his hand grabbing the small box in his pocket

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #aot x reader #aot oneshots #armin arlert x reader #armin smut #armin arlert x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirsten x reader #porco galliard x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #eren x reader #porco x reader #jean x reader #tw: impact play

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

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Rabid.

The brainrot was real, guys. Hope you like it :))

Kyoutani Kentarou x female reader

tw blood, violence, implied minor character death, non-con, smut, nsfw

There’s blood splattered across the back of his hands the first time you make the unwitting mistake of catching Kyoutani’s attention. He usually can’t be fucked wasting time wrapping his fists; the skin across one of his knuckles is split and raw from his last job, but most of the blood isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

But he wouldn’t have noticed – it comes with the territory and he’s never really given a fuck whether there’s blood on his clothes or not – if it hadn’t been for that tiny gasp.

That soft, sharp little intake of breath, and like the rabid dog they claim he is, he snaps to the threat.

Nobody else at the table notices, and you seem to realise your mistake, freezing up the moment those honey brown eyes flash and zero in on you. Your throat bobs unsteadily – you look like a deer caught in headlights. Startled. Terrified.

Kinda fuckin’ adorable, if he’s being honest.

“I– I’m sorry, sir,” you mutter, ducking your head as you set down his drink with a tremor in your hand.

Vaguely, he registers Makki’s choked snort at the honorific – nobody’s ever called him sir before – but he can’t really find it in himself to give a fuck that the two of you have drawn an audience.

Not when you’re still frozen, hardly daring to draw breath at his side.

You’re new, that much is painfully obvious, but not stupid. You know who he is – who they are, and despite his reputation, he’s never been one to get off on fear or some fucked up version of a power trip; Kyoutani simply likes the feeling of lashing out, beating the absolute shit out of some asshole just because he can.

Because it feels good, gets his blood pumping.

Nobody would lift a finger to help you if he decided to take offence to your little slip up. And truthfully, he couldn’t give a shit – he’s used to people being on edge around him and it’s not like you’ve reacted any other way than how you’re supposed to.

It’s natural for you to be startled, scared even. But not here, not with them. Here you should know better, because here is filled to the fucking brim with men like Kyoutani. Oh sure, they might be prettier, polished and charming like Oikawa, but you’d have to be a goddamn idiot to think the man hasn’t stepped over bodies he’s put in the ground to get where he is.

At least Kyoutani never has to pretend to be anything other than what he is.

But a little blood in a place like this shouldn’t raise an eyebrow, and the way you’re staring at the table, eyes cast down and wide; Kyoutani can almost hear you cursing yourself out for your own stupidity. And it strikes him as he stares at you, drinking in every subtle shift in your body language, wondering why you don’t just tuck tail and run off like you so clearly want to, that you really don't belong in a place like this.

“Something the matter, Mad Dog?” a silken voice purrs, and he tears his eyes away from your trembling form to glance back at his boss, sitting at the head of the table. The brunette’s smiling idly, appraising the two of you and Kyoutani feels you stiffen beside him.

You don’t dare open your mouth, don’t so much as twitch, not even as Kyoutani returns his attention back to you. By now the entire table has quietened down, most if not all of the gathered men staring at you and you – pretty eyes filling with tears, hands clasped together and trembling in front of your dress – look like you just want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. And somewhat selfishly, there’s a part of Kyoutani that wants to keep you there like that.

Not afraid, exactly. Just… there.

He can’t explain it, doesn’t know why he hasn’t just told you to fuck off back to the kitchen, dismissed you with a grunt like he would have if any of the other servers had made the same mistake. He has bigger shit to worry about than some perceived fucking offence, but he finds himself pausing, drawing this little moment out for a lifetime before finally putting an end to it, “No.”

He jerks his chin, breaking the moment between the two of you to reach for the drink you’d set down before him, but still you don’t move, glancing between him and Oikawa like you’re afraid to move – as if you’re terrified that you’ve read this situation wrong and one wrong step and you’ll just make things worse. It’s so fucking endearing that he almost snorts, but it takes Oikawa’s voice, calm and level and almost kind to shake you out of your frozen state, “Run along now, cutie.”

You scamper off without a backwards glance, and if anybody notices Kyoutani watching you out of the corner of his eye while he nurses his drink, they have the better sense to keep their mouths shut about it.

And honest to god, it’s the last he expects to see of you. He’s not so stupid as to think you landed the job because you genuinely wanted it; people don’t end up in places like this because they have choices, they end up here because somebody somewhere along the line fucked up.

This city’s filthy, full of irredeemable pieces of shit like him and it takes innocence like yours, chews it up and spits it out. If you were smart, you would have left after your little run-in with him, so why the fuck are you right back in their private room less than a week later, nails biting into your palm and resolutely refusing to meet his eye?

Oikawa’s busy rattling off a list of drinks he wants, but this time it’s Kyoutani who’s frozen in place, staring at you with a scowl that has you shivering even as you nod at the Oyabun. He knows Iwaizumi at least is watching him with some kind of morbid combination of curiosity and concern, can’t find it within him to care as you try and slip from the room, giving him as wide a berth as you can without it seeming rude–

Not wide enough. Before he even registers that he’s moved Kyoutani’s reaching out to grab your forearm – his grip not tight enough to hurt, just to stop you from running off on him again. And the little squeak that leaves your soft looking lips sends a ripple of something electric jolting down his spine, but you know better than to try and pull away.

God, he can feel your pulse racing beneath your skin, every terrified thump of your heart. It’s addictive, he thinks, the feeling he gets just from touching you.

“Gimme a beer,” he grunts, waiting until you finally meet his eye.

The nervous little nod you give strokes some part of him he hadn’t realised existed. Kyoutani likes you like this; all timid and obedient. A little too much, maybe.

There’s a sharp elbow in his side courtesy of Yahaba, and he reluctantly releases his grip on you, leaving you to scamper away once more. Cute.

Yahaba makes some snarky comment under his breath and he barely fucking registers it, fixated instead on the skin of his palm; still warm and tingling from your touch. His hands are rough, scarred and calloused, the skin over his knuckles split from another job last night, a little red and bruised – even as he tightens his fingers into a fist they sting just a little.

Guns have their purpose, he’s not against a knife if he’s feeling particularly fucking vindictive, but Kyoutani’s favourite has always been his fists. There’s something about the feeling of skin and muscle giving way beneath his blows, taking all that pent up rage and aggression and letting loose with his fists. It’s a kind of euphoria he’s never found anywhere else; not in women or men or drugs or alcohol. Nothing comes close to the feeling he gets straddling some pathetic piece of shit and beating the absolute fucking crap out of him.

Sometimes if he goes a few days without a fight, he gets a little jittery. Not like the tweakers do, it’s not withdrawal so much as… a building up of restless, rabid energy. He gets on edge, snaps more, lashing out over petty shit until some poor asshole makes the mistake of looking at him the wrong way and Kyoutani just fucking looses it.

He feels it now, that same burning itch under his skin. He’s never thought of his hands as anything more weapons, but touching you, the warmth of your skin, how smooth and soft it was–

Kyoutani wants to do it again. Wants to touch more of you. And he’s not so fucked up yet that he doesn’t realise how twisted this all is, how a guy like him doesn’t belong within a thousand miles of some sweet, cute innocent thing like you. But the world ain’t fucking fair; you’re here and for whatever reason Oikawa’s taken a liking to you and so whenever they’re at the club, you’re the one management send to make sure they’re happy.

And Kyoutani wonders, golden eyes burning a hole into your back as you hastily clear away their empty glasses, whether you realise that if any one of them asked for a dance or for you to get on your knees and blow them, you’d be expected to do that, too.

You might as well be on Seijoh’s payroll now, just be thankful that as far as that side of things go, they’re not the monsters that the rumours make them out to be.

Not that he hasn’t noticed Mattsun’s gaze drifting to your ass when you lean over the table to grab something, the older man shooting him a salacious wink when he notices he’s glaring.

Not that he hasn’t let his own imagination take hold, leaning up against the glass wall of his shower first thing in the morning. His fist pumping along his throbbing cock, wondering what it’d be like to see you on your knees, those pretty eyes full of tears, staring up at him as you swallow him down like the good girl he knows you are.

The thing is, he’s never made all that much of an effort to hide his feelings from the others. He doesn’t give a shit if it makes him the butt of their jokes, doesn’t care what they think about the way he watches you – his attention snapping towards you the moment you slip past the door, purposefully trying to avoid his gaze. Not that it ever does you much good.

Oikawa hasn’t said shit, and that’s enough of a go-ahead as Kyoutani needs. It’s none of their fucking business anyway.

You’ve managed to get under his skin, push him to the fucking brink when he goes more than a few days without seeing you. He knows you don’t want any part of this; that you’re still fucking terrified of him. Kyoutani’s never been one to chase after somebody who wants nothing to do with him – there are plenty of women more than willing to spread their legs for Seijoh’s big bad Mad Dog if he wants an itch scratched. There’s no good reason why he can’t get you out of his head, why you’ve sunk your teeth into him and refuse to let go – even when it’s clear that that’s so fucking far from what you intended with the blonde.

It doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, it doesn’t change shit; you’re his, whether you’re willing to acknowledge that or not.

And maybe he’s just living with his head up his ass, but he doesn’t quite realise how fucking inadequate this whole arrangement is until he needs a piss one night and ventures out into the club only to see some asshole trying to cop a feel and tug you down to his lap, his friends drunk and howling with laughter as you try to politely escape them.

Distantly he registers that he recognises the piece of shit as some low level fucking drug lord who’s been all but sucking Oikawa’s dick trying to get a bigger piece of the pie, but in that moment, he honestly doesn’t give a fuck who he is.

Kyoutani just sees red.

Nostrils flaring, steam practically pouring from his ears, he storms over. And adrenaline’s surging through him with every pounding beat of his heart, every synapse in his body’s electrified, ready to lay into this piece of shit for daring to lay a finger on what’s his.

He wants to beat him bloody, wants to fuck up his face – to whale on him until muscle and bone give way and there’s nothing left but bloody pulp where his head used to be. Him and his fucking friends.

But Kyoutani has his priorities, and he reaches you first, grabbing you by your elbow and ripping you away from them, a muscled arm curling protectively around your waist. And he’s deaf to whatever protests you have, to the excuses the pieces of crap in front of him offer up, can’t hear a goddamn thing over the pounding in his head as he fixes them with a snarl and all but drags you back to their room, shoving you less than gently in through the door.

“Stay here, don’t move until I get back,” he orders, and he loves you, he does, but when you open your mouth to argue, something inside of him tightens and snaps. He grabs you by the jaw, jerking your face up as he crowds in over you, golden eyes ablaze, “Not a fucking muscle, understand?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, crashing his lips down on yours to steal the kiss he’s been waiting fucking weeks for before stalking back out.

Kyoutani is beyond caring about ramifications, Oikawa’s always given him a fairly loose leash to do as he pleases and if this is what puts an end to that so fucking be it; he’ll take you and go. But he hears Iwa and Mattsun on his heels and neither one of them are trying to stop him as he storms back towards the drug lord and his little cronies, so he figures the boss ain’t too fucking bothered with what he’s about to do.

And maybe if he’d had a clearer head, he might’ve found it funny how quickly the floor clears when he vaults the couch, grabs the asshole by the front of his silk shirt and heaves him forward, sending him careening face first into a table full of drinks.

With the taste of you on his lips, the memory of this piece of shit’s hands all over you, Kyoutani doesn’t hold back.

The others are gone by the time he, Iwa and Mattsun return, it’s just Oikawa casually leaning back in his seat, you sitting rigidly in the one beside him, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair.

Kyoutani’s eyes flicker tensely between the two of you – he’s still on edge, still not right. He needs something more to feed that rabid fucking monster lurking beneath his skin, and his Oyabun knows it.

Oikawa smiles genially, patting your knee for just a moment (and oh, how Kyoutani hates the flash of jealous rage that rears its ugly head when he leans over and whispers something in your ear) before standing up.

“Mad Dog,” he says, eyeing him with a shrewd look he recognises all too well. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He nods at the two behind him and without another word the three of them exit, no doubt to try and smooth over the mess he’d just made.

Leaving Kyoutani alone with you.

And there’s a part of him that’s pissed off, because this was always gonna happen, but fuck, he was gonna make an effort. He’d wanted it to be nice for you… romantic, or at least as romantic as somebody like him was capable of.

You deserve that much.

His blood’s still thrumming, remnants of blind fury and jealousy and possessive need still burning through his veins. The fight wasn’t enough to sate him; it should’ve been – he’d left them in fucking pieces – but then again you’ve been toeing this line for a long, long time, and Kyoutani’s patience only goes so far.

He should at least take you back to his apartment, try and salvage this disaster of a night, but he knows deep down he can’t make himself walk out of here with you without taking what he needs.

He’s still not entirely in control, breathing hard as he stares at you, watches you fiddle with your hands in your lap, refusing to meet his gaze. “Stand up,” he says, his voice a rough growl.

On shaking legs, you obey, eyes flickering towards the doorway behind him, and distantly he wonders what you’re thinking. You’re foolishly naive, he’ll admit that much, but he doesn’t think you’re stupid. You know where this is going, and you must know that there is nobody and nothing that’s gonna stop what’s about to happen. Not even you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and now he’s the one to draw in an unsteady breath. “Strip.”

You blanch, eyes widening in pure panic. And there’s a part of him that feels guilty, that knows he’s scaring you right now and hates himself for it, but any chance of rationality winning out fled the moment he saw somebody else put their hands all over you.

“Strip,” he repeats when you make no move to start taking your clothes off. “Or I’ll rip that pretty fucking dress off myself.”

Kyoutani adores that little catch in your breath, the way you bite down on your bottom lip as you give in, meekly reaching for the zipper at your back.

You’re so fucking beautiful, every mouthwatering inch of you. Tentatively, you glance up at him after your dress hits the floor, as if you’re hoping that that’ll be enough, that he doesn’t want to see all of you. Any other time, and the sight of you in your matching set of lingerie might’ve been enough to calm him, but it’s not what he needs tonight.

His scowl deepens, and you’re clever enough to read between the lines. Your bra goes first, pretty lace panties joining the small pile of clothes on the floor a moment later.

Good girl.

His eyes darken as he stares, hungrily taking you in. Soft tits, nipples pebbling under the cool air, he’s dying to touch them, suck on them, mark them up nice and fuckin’ pretty. The gentle swell of your ass, smooth, supple thighs he can’t wait to get his hands on, and that cute little cunt of yours, all his. His to play with, his to tease, his to claim. Fuck, this is better than all the images he’s conjured up of you in the heat of the moment, stroking his cock to get off with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He wants to compliment you, tell you how perfect you are, how cute you are – trembling naked in front of him, but he’s beyond words right now, hanging onto his control by a fucking thread as his cock twitches in his pants, all that blood rushing south.

You look like you’re about to burst into tears as you swallow, taking in a quick, hitching breath. “Kyoutani,” you begin in a soft, tiny voice–

And that last little thread snaps.

He’s on you before you can stop him, spinning you around and roughly slamming your hips up against the table. There’s no time to be soft or gentle, no time to even take off his pants, he just shoves them down to his thighs and reaches for his cock.

Fuck, he’d wanted to eat you out, to stuff you full of his fingers and make you cum on them first, get you nice and stretched out, but he’s still too wound up. Kyoutani needs to be buried inside of you, needs to fuck you – he’ll make it up to you afterwards, he swears it.

He’ll treat you like a fucking princess, just be good for him now.

And the scream that shatters that calm night air should tear at him – he doesn’t want to hurt you, not ever, it’s his job to protect you – but he can’t focus on that when your pussy’s clamping down around his fat cock, a dizzying heat enveloping him as your walls flutter and squeeze against the unwanted intrusion.

It feels like fucking heaven. Kyoutani’s hands are everywhere; your tits, your ass, squeezing reassuringly at your hip when a broken sob leaves your lips. And he’s kissing at your shoulders, nuzzling at your neck even as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin, desperate to be as close to you as he can as his hips draw back and he pounds back in, grunting like a beast in heat.

He fucks you savagely, your hips slamming against the table with every thrust – there’ll be bruises no doubt, but he’ll look after those too. He swears to fucking god, he’ll take such good care of you. You’re gonna be his girl. You are his girl.

It’s easier than it should be to drown out your agonised cries and pleas for him to slow down, to chase his own pleasure within your tight, wet heat, his cock ramming up against your cervix with every stroke.

He loves you, loves the feeling of being inside of you – fuck, Kyoutani doesn’t think he ever wants to leave. His fingers find your clit and you cry out, a shudder wracking your body that almost has him seeing stars with the way your pussy tightens and convulses around him in response. He loses his rhythm as he nears his end, hips jackrabbiting into your poor, abused cunt as his balls tighten.

You’re slick now, cunt drooling around him as he fucks you hard and fast, lewd slaps echoing out with every brutal thrust. Kyoutani knows he’s holding you too tight, knows it’s probably hurting but he can’t fucking care when he’s so close and you feel so fucking good–

His teeth sink into your neck as that blinding pleasure takes hold; his entire body seizing up, abs tightening as his orgasm slams into him. Kyoutani cums with a hissed snarl, crushing you against him as thick, warm spurts fill your perfect little cunt right up. He fucks you through it, a slow, lazy grind of his hips against yours as he milks his orgasm for all it’s worth, pressing gentle, soothing kisses along your collarbone while you sniffle and sob pathetically.

“Love you,” he grunts quietly – truthfully – letting your exhausted body collapse back against the table. And it’s now he regrets not having taken you home to do this on an actual bed, just so he could lie you down somewhere soft afterwards and curl up beside you.

Still, there’s not much he can do but try and comfort you as best he can, rough fingers running soothingly up and down your back as he waits for you to calm down. He pauses after a moment though, staring oddly at his hands.

There’s blood smeared across his skin, caked under his nails, splattered up his tattooed forearms. And Kyoutani can’t help the satisfied smirk that tugs at his lips as he leans over to kiss your shoulder again, his cock still stuffed inside of you.

Most of it isn’t his.

And the other guy got off far, far worse.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kyoutani #yandere kyoutani x reader #yandere kyoutani kentarou x reader #yandere kyoutani kentarou #tw blood #tw violence #tw implied minor character death #tw non con #i love the angry tennis ball

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punchdrunkdoc · 2 years ago

Text

Just Breathe - Ch.10

Summary: Six months after the events in Gotham Square Garden, Bruce is struggling to find balance between his role as Batman and his responsibilities as Bruce Wayne. His life is made even more complicated when he learns that someone knows his secret identity.

Notes: This is a multi-chapter, slow-burn Battinson/original female character story with romance, angst, and crime solving!

Also available on AO3

Masterlist

Reference pics and stuff

Beth opened her eyes as the roar of the wind and traffic was suddenly replaced by an echoing silence, filled only by the purr of the bike’s engine.

She should have been freaking out over the threat to her safety; or annoyed that her life had suddenly been put on hold while she effectively went into hiding; or at least curious about where she was being taken…

But pressed tight against Bruce’s back, her arms clenched around his body, her thighs bracketing his…it was the most contact she’d had with another human being in years. And touch-starved as she was, she’d decided to close her eyes against reality and pretend.

Pretend that she was a normal girl, going for a ride with a normal guy.

Pretend that she wasn’t a freak. That her life wasn’t in danger. That the guy actually cared about her, and wasn’t just acting out of some warped sense of heroic responsibility.

It was nice while it lasted, but the real world inevitably intruded.

She sighed as the bike came to a stop, and reluctantly removed her hands. She sat back and felt the warmth between their bodies dissipate.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked, his voice flat. He hadn’t made a move to dismount, and was staring straight ahead.

She hated not being able to see his eyes. They were so expressive, she was usually able to gauge his mood from looking into them.

But she had no idea what he was thinking or feeling right now and it was driving her crazy. If he really did regret their friendship, did he resent having to help her now? Did he hate the idea of bringing her here, into his private space?

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, swinging her leg off the bike. She stepped away from him to survey her surroundings. They were in an enormous underground cavern, the space lit at the far end by spotlights situated under an arching staircase. It was an abandoned train station, she realised, noticing the lettering on the arch and the railway lines under her feet.

“Where are we?” she asked, curious despite the awkward situation. She wandered over to the car in the corner noting that someone had been working on the engine.

“Underneath Wayne Tower,” he mumbled. He made a beeline for the workstation beneath the arch and started flicking through information on the monitors. The crackle of a police radio filled the silence between them.

She felt uncomfortable and out of place, and he was acting so strange - cold and distant.

He must really hate that she was here, intruding into his life.

“Did you find him?” a voice called from the floor above. An older man descended the stairs; his hair and beard were greying but his eyes were sharp and he looked lean and fit beneath his shirt and waistcoat.

Bruce didn’t look up from the screen. “Not exactly.”

“Then why are you-“ he spotted Beth the moment he reached the floor. His double-take would have been comical under any other circumstances.

“Hi,” she said, offering him a nervous smile.

“Hi,” he responded slowly. “Bruce?”

“Alfred, this is Beth. Beth, this is Alfred, he’s my…he’s Alfred.” Bruce’s eyes flicked between them, then he shut down his computer and moved back to the bike. He called to Alfred over his shoulder. “I need you to get a room ready for Beth, she’s going to be staying here while Newsome’s loose.”

He mounted the bike and started the engine. She ran over to him, suddenly angry. “You’re just leaving me here?”

He flipped the hood of his jacket up, creating shadows that hid his face from view. “I’m gonna try and track Newsome. The sooner I catch him, the sooner you can go home.”

She heard the hidden double meaning: The sooner you can leave me alone.

Hurt replaced the anger, and she didn’t say another word as he spun the bike around and shot down the tracks.

———

Bruce stared at Beth in the bike’s wing mirror as he rode away.

She looked lost and confused. And he hated that he was the reason why. He knew he was acting like an asshole, but he didn’t know how to handle this any other way.

The decision to hide her in his home had been an impulsive one, made out of fear and desperation. But if he was honest with himself, it was an impulse he’d been suppressing for weeks - since the moment Newsome had put her in his crosshairs. It was medieval and overbearing - the desired to lock her away in an actual tower - but it was the only way he knew to keep her safe.

He just hadn’t counted on how it would make him feel to see her in his space.

He’d watched her out of the corner of his eye as she’d wandered around the underground lair. As she tipped her head back to take in the ornate staircase; as she ran her fingers along the workstation table; as she peered at the engine he’d been working on earlier that night…

It was surreal having her there. But it was even stranger how right it felt.

And that worried him.

He didn’t want to get used to her being there. He didn’t want to come to rely on her presence.

He didn’t want to get any closer to her than he already was.

The thought of her being in danger already evoked bone-shaking fear, and he’d only known her a few months. It would be infinitely worse if they became any closer. He wouldn’t be able to handle that.

So he’d left. It was true that he wanted to start tracking Newsome…but there was a larger element of self-preservation involved in his sudden departure. He didn’t want to be the one to take her upstairs and show her his home. He didn’t want to see her reaction to his private world. And he definitely didn’t want to get used to seeing her there.

He would just have to avoid her as much as possible.

No matter how much he wanted to do the exact opposite.

Shoving that dilemma to the side, he continued on to Beth’s building and took up position on ‘his’ rooftop across the street. He didn’t know how long it would take Newsome to find her address, but he would be here waiting.

He dug out the binoculars from his pack, allowing himself a small moment to marvel at how quickly things could change. Three months ago he’d come to this spot for the first time, hoping to catch a glimpse of a mysterious girl…and now that girl was in his home.

And he was here looking to find a very different target.

He focused the lenses on the window of Beth’s apartment. No light was coming from inside, but the moon was bright overhead, allowing him to see that something was…off.

The curtain rail was cutting a diagonal line across the windowpane, as if it had been torn from the wall.

Shit.

He was too late.

He grabbed his gear and jogged across the street, making sure to keep his face covered by his hat and hood. He entered Beth’s building and ran up the stairs.

Her door was ajar.

It was déjà vu all over again.

But there would be no battered woman behind a couch this time. Newsome may have found Beth’s house, but he would never find Beth.

And Newsome had likely figured that out, judging by the rage-filled havoc he’d wreaked on Beth’s apartment.

There wasn’t a piece of furniture untouched; the couch cushions were shredded, the coffee-table smashed, the desk surface scratched by the knife now jammed into its centre. Every mug and plate in the kitchen had been thrown to the floor. The artwork on the walls was defaced.

Bruce ventured into the bedroom, where the destruction continued. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, the mattress of the bed was tipped on its end, and in massive letters over the headboard, Newsome had spelled out his feelings in thick black marker: BITCH!

Bruce was nearly weak with relief that he’d gotten to Beth so quickly - that she hadn’t been here when Newsome arrived…but he wished he could have spared her this. Her home - her refuge from the world that was a sensory minefield for her - was destroyed.

———

Beth woke late the next morning. With all the worry about Newsome, Bruce’s weird behaviour and her strange surroundings, her brain hadn’t shut off until the early hours. She sighed and turned on to her back, admiring the ornate gothic woodwork that dripped from the ceiling like stalactites in a cave. The whole penthouse looked like a slightly dishevelled 19th century cathedral. Like Bram Stoker meets Miss Havisham.

She kind of loved it.

It was like stepping into the pages of Brontë or Shelley, which was pretty cool for a book nerd like her…but she worried about Bruce in this environment. She’d hoped his home would be a sanctuary for him, offering him the comfort and warmth he needed after spending his nights mired in the harsh, cold heart of Gotham. But this place was just as cold and harsh, a stark mausoleum instead of a home.

Her neglected stomach growled at her, interrupting her thoughts. She’d declined Alfred’s offer of dinner last night - feeling too uncomfortable and nervous to eat - but now she needed to find food. She hiked up the bottoms of her borrowed pyjama pants and padded out into the hall. The clothes must belong to Bruce - given the length of the trousers and the Tyres & Wheels logo on the black t-shirt. She couldn’t imagine the very proper Alfred rocking this look. She felt awkward wearing them while traipsing about his house, but she had nothing else.

Downstairs, she found breakfast items laid out on a octagonal table embossed with a large ‘W’. Everywhere she turned, she found the monogram. She was someone with no knowledge of her past or heritage, yet Bruce was immersed in his. She wondered how that felt - having such a name to live up to.

She took a seat and glanced around, but she was alone. Sunlight flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows to her right, but it couldn’t banish the shadows from all the corners and recesses of the room. The place still felt oppressive and dark, even in the daytime.

She touched the side of the silver tea pot, relieved when it felt hot. She poured herself a cup and nibbled at a berry from the dish beside it.

“Good morning.” Alfred walked into the room, leaning on a cane and carrying a stack of newspapers with his free hand.

“Good morning,” she replied. She gestured to her teacup. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I was just about to make some toast. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

He smiled, placed the newspapers on the table and continued on to the kitchen. Seconds later, she heard footsteps again. “That was quick,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder.

But it wasn’t Alfred.

Bruce entered the room and stopped short seeing her at the table. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. He didn’t say a word as he changed trajectory and moved towards the stairs. It was if he’d forgotten she’d be there.

“Aren’t you having breakfast with us?” she asked as he walked past the table.

He paused, but didn’t turn around. “No, I’ll get something later.”

She quickly got up from her chair and moved to stand in front of him. “I don’t want to disrupt your routine or make you feel uncomfortable in your own home. You eat, I’ll go to my room. Or I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He shook his head and pushed the glasses up to rest on his head. The action dragged his hair off his face, allowing her to finally see his eyes. They looked tired. “You can’t do that. Its not safe.”

“You didn’t find him then.” It was a statement, instead of a question.

“No.”

“Can I at least grab some clothes from my apartment? Alfred took what I was wearing yesterday to wash and all I have is this.” She plucked at the borrowed t-shirt. He seemed to notice that she was wearing his clothes for the first time; his expression looked tortured.

She felt like she’d been punched in the gut.

Was he really that annoyed that she was here, and having to borrow his stuff? It was his idea in the first place!

“Why are you being like this? What happened to make you hate me so much?”

He screwed up his face, looking even more anguished. “I don’t hate you, Beth.”

“Then what’s going on? One minute we’re friends, then the next thing I know you’re ignoring me completely. Now you insist on keeping me here for my safety, but you can’t seem to stand the sight of me!”

“I can’t do this right now.” He turned away from her. Without thought, she grabbed his arm to stop him.

His bare arm…with her bare hand.

She gasped and let go, but that fleeting contact had been enough. Enough for her to catch a glimpse of the truth he was trying to hide.

She stared at him, fury overtaking the hurt she was feeling. “Are you kidding me?”

“Beth-” he looked pained.

“All this time, I’ve been going nuts trying to figure out what I did to push you away or make you regret being friends with me…and there was nothing! You pulled away just because you’re scared.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said through gritted teeth.

“It is! You were just too much of a coward to admit it. But that doesn’t-“

“Am I interrupting something?” Alfred stood in the doorway, a stern and disapproving look on his face. She felt like she’d been caught misbehaving by the school Principal.

She glanced back at Bruce, surprised by the way he was looming over her, his face bent close to hers. She was up on her tip toes, trying to match his height.

When did they get so close to each other?

He seemed to notice their proximity at the same time. He stepped back and took a deep breath. “I’m going to bed.”

She watched him leave, and took a deep breath of her own, trying to tamp down her anger.

It didn’t work.

“Join me, will you, Dr. Carraway?” Alfred’s request felt more like a command.

She sat back down and murmured her thanks when he passed her a plate stacked with toast. “I’m guessing you heard most of that.”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, smearing his own slice of bread with jam. “Don’t worry about your secret. Bruce told me what you can do, and rest assured I won’t tell a soul.”

She hadn’t even processed the fact that Alfred had seen her ‘read’ Bruce. Which just proved how scattered she was feeling. “I appreciate that. And please call me Beth. It seems I’ll be here a while longer.” She sounded like a sulky teenager.

“Which I think is a good thing, despite the circumstances.”

She stared at him in confusion. “Good how?”

“Bruce was determined to distance himself from you, as you just discovered. It’ll be a lot harder for him now, with the two of you under the same roof.”

“But why was he so determined? We’ve all lost people - its a natural part of life. Why would he cut himself off from his friends just because of that?”

He whispered something under his breath and shook his head with a wry chuckle. It sounded like he was repeating the word ‘friends’.

She ignored that and kept talking, needing insight on the man upstairs. “I don’t remember my parents.” Alfred looked up, surprised at the segue. She was surprised too - she didn’t normally open up about her past to relative strangers - but there was something so kind and trustworthy about Alfred. She felt like she could tell him anything.

“I have no family,” she continued. “And because of my…ability…I’ve never been able to get close to anyone. And I’m desperate to.” The last was said on a whisper. It was such a deep, hidden part of her that it was a struggle saying the words aloud. It was a great irony that one of her favourite quotes - the one she’d recited to Bruce under the stars - spoke of existence only being bearable through love.

Because she’d never felt love.

She’d never loved, nor been loved. Which meant that sometimes her existence was unbearable.

And it was that deep hidden secret that made it so hard to accept Bruce’s choices.

“I don’t understand how he can voluntarily turn his back on that type of bond.”

Alfred sighed and leaned back in his chair. “His parent’s death affected him greatly. He’s been living with survivor’s guilt and an intense, atypical grief reaction for more than twenty years.”

“You sound like a psychologist.”

He laughed softly. “I was never able to get him to see one of those. So I did some reading, to try and help him.”

“He’s lucky to have you.” She could hear the wistful note in her own voice. She’d had social workers that had cared about her. A couple of psychologists, and some fosters families that never worked out in the end…but she’d never had an Alfred in her life.

“I’m not so sure. I tried…but he kept me at arm’s length for a long time. It was only last year that even I grasped just how deep and traumatising his fear of loss is.”

Beth was silent for a moment, absorbing that revelation. If Bruce’s fear really was that profound…then she owed him an apology. It didn’t completely excuse the way he’d been treating her, but she needed to be less judgemental. They were both damaged in their own ways.

She was desperate for connection…but unable to get truly close to anyone.

He was terrified of connection…so was trying everything to distance himself from her.

———

Bruce trudged into the penthouse, his footfalls heavy with fatigue. He’d gotten very little sleep after his confrontation with Beth yesterday and had spent the better part of the last ten hours sifting through Gotham looking for signs of Newsome.

But the man had gone to ground.

He’d met up with Gordon around midnight, but the GCPD had no clues or leads to share. They were too focussed on Beth.

“You don’t think its strange,” Gordon had asked, “that the pathologist we brought onto the case was the person who found Samantha Sterling? And now she’s in the wind, just like Newsome?”

“You can’t possibly think they were working together,” Bruce countered.

“It’s just not adding up, man. This whole case is a mess.”

Bruce agreed with that. But for completely different reasons. He tried to steer Gordon away from his suspicions. “I don’t think Dr. Carraway is the key to this. We need to concentrate on finding Newsome.”

Which he’d done for hours afterwards, fruitlessly searching known boltholes and safe-houses, before calling it quits.

He was tired and hungry and frustrated; and now that the search was over for the night and there was no more work to distract him, all the thoughts he’d pushed to the back-burner sprung to the fore.

And they all centred on one thing: Beth

A faint golden light caught his eye as he moved towards the stairs. He followed its source to one of the fireplaces, where a few smouldering logs glowed in the hearth. Curled up in the leather armchair in front of it was the woman in question, fast asleep.

Her head rested awkwardly against one of the wings of the chair, and her arms were wrapped around her bent knees as she clutched them to her chest. A blanket had fallen down around her feet. She was still dressed in his clothes, an old pair of jeans this time - rolled up at the ankles - and a grey sweatshirt that swamped her figure.

As it did yesterday morning, seeing her in his clothes affected him on a strange primal level. It was as if the alpha male buried deep inside of him had woken up to stake his claim on her.

Unable to resist, he moved closer and crouched down beside the chair. Her skin seemed to glow in the light thrown from the dying embers in the fireplace. She always looked slightly tanned, as if the dull skies of Gotham could never quite succeed in leaching all the colour from her. Her hair was golden and her eyes were like the sky on a warm, clear day.

She was sunshine and summer…and he was darkness and shadow.

He was Hades, and he’d stolen Persephone and brought her to the underworld.

He ducked his head and shook it. Sleep deprivation was making him melodramatic.

He raised his head again. Her eyes were open and watching him. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he replied just as softly. “What are you doing down here?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Why?”

She shifted into a more upright posture but kept her legs pulled up, as if maintaining a protective position. He rose and sat on the ottoman in front of her, wanting to be on her eye level and not below it.

Maybe he felt the need to protect himself too.

“I wanted to apologise,” she said. “For getting angry at you yesterday.”

He stared down at the floor between them. “You had a right to be angry. I didn’t handle things well, and I treated you like crap. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

He’d hidden on the balcony above her and Alfred yesterday and overheard their whole conversation. A part of him had resented how easily she opened up to the older man; another part of him was annoyed at Alfred for spilling his secrets…

But mostly his heart ached for Beth.

“I’ve never been able to get close to anyone…and I’m desperate to.”

He’d felt like the biggest piece of shit on earth after hearing that confession. He knew he’d hurt her when he stopped contacting her and ignored her calls…but he figured she’d get over it in time.

He should have known better. He’d seen for himself how isolated she was, how solitary her life was. She’d even joked about her lack of companionship: “Well, I don’t really know from experience, but I hear that friends drop by whenever they want.” She hid her insecurities and her sorrows so well behind that cheerful smile and teasing voice that he’d fallen for the act.

When the truth was, their tentative friendship meant as much to her as it did to him. Maybe even more.

And he’d ripped it away from her. Because he’d been scared.

She was right to call him a coward.

And now she was apologising to him.

“But I still should have been more understanding,” she said. “I was projecting my own…issues…on to you. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head again. “Please, stop.”

She bit her lip and looked wary.

“Can we just go back to how things were before I acted like an asshole?” He asked.

“Is that what you really want?” she whispered.

He took a deep breath. “Yes.”

It was the truth.

He’d been trying to protect himself against future pain by distancing himself from their relationship. But that wasn’t fair to her. She had no one else in this world. No one who understood her; no one who knew her secrets. Only him. He couldn’t - he wouldn’t - hurt her anymore and subject her to that isolated life again.

And he wasn’t just saying ‘yes’ out of concern for her. He missed her. And he wanted to be near her. There was no one else in the world who knew him and understood him like she did.

They were two of the most lonely and broken people in Gotham…and yet they’d found each other.

He wouldn’t throw that away again.

CHAPTER 11

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