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#the last days are not so scary to those who do not believe they will occur
snoopyearss · 6 months
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
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Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 months
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Hi!! I’m a little lurker who only did one request once and I forgot what happened to that one so I have a different request!!
can you…uhm…write a little thing about priest!fyodor who believes reader to be a god but reader just a normal human?
And like human is a virgin and…you know where I’m going with this.
A worshiper Fyodor taking his beloved God’s virginity by riding reader until he passes out from how many times Fyodor bounced on his cock.
idk I just can’t stop thinking about it but I don’t think I worded it pretty well and you have pretty words soooo…
I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just
go back to lurking once more…
but if I could bother you again? Can I be 🕶️ anon please?
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This is similar to something I have started long ago! On my old blog! But it got deleted along with my drafts :’)
Dom!reader x sub!priest!fyodor - reader is gender neutral
Warning: pegging (I use dick), use of condom (wow scary), no prep, cum play (licking), hierophilia, corruption, taking virginity, worshipping, fucking in a church, dacryphilia, handjob, cumming untouched, mind break, sub space, bruises, god - worshipper relationship
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It happened the moment he laid his eyes on you. When you walked in, pass the grand wooden door and slandered through the small halls. That miraculous day was Sunday, morning to be precise, and you came in late for the morning chant. Everyone who sat on the benches turned their head to look at you, some with scorn, some with a mocking grin. You looked unfazed and went straight to the first row, keeping eye contact with one single person, the priest in charge.
That cold attitude despite the loud voices, the way your every move was as smooth and elegant as clear water. Your expression after sitting down, lips shut while keeping your arrogant eyes on him, as if to judge him, to attest to something. All that appeared divine in his eyes, superior even, it caused a shudder to run down his spine. He had never felt such a pressing sensation before, it was the first time.
You were staring at him so much, though he couldn’t read your intentions. Nothing, only emptiness. A gentle breeze, that brought forth comfort, turning into an icy storm capable of destruction. These words would be perfect to describe you, or how his view of you, because everyone else seems to think otherwise. Most of them scoffed about you coming in late, those little complains soon changed into more vicious words. Like a devils curse, causing the once friendly guests to sin.
“Dear father, may we continue with the morning prayers?” Among the low whispers of the devil, a voice akin to an angels emerged. “Excuse me..?” Fyodor murmured, eyes subconsciously darting to the direction of the sound. Once again, it was you who called out to him. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he noticed your piercing gaze, it was a little embarrassing that he dazed out there. “Yes, of course, pardon my inattentiveness.” The priest said, glancing at you a last time before focusing on his duties. Or at least he tried, because he couldn’t concentrate. The entire time he found himself stealing glances at you, watching you. This wasn’t like him, he couldn’t even recognise himself.
From then onwards, he found himself searching for your eyes or attention. It began with him asking around about you, then it gradually turned into him actively seeking you out. Your meetings became more frequent, and more private as well. One day, he found you kneeling in the confession box, boringly staring through the bars. He quickly positioned himself, then asked, “what brings you to me, my child?”
Seeing you up close was a new experience, he felt the tingly sensation crawling around his body again. “Father, I’m here because I believe you have something to confess.” You said with a voice coated in sweet honey. “Me, confess?” The priest mumbled, obviously baffled by your words no matter how he adored your voice. “That’s right, I can see. If you have something to say, do it now.” After hearing you out, he swallowed the lump in his throat, before smiling at you meekly and admitting, “I fear I’m not loyal to my god anymore.”
It took a lot out of him, a servant of god, to utter these words. Of course it wasn’t without reason. Simply being in your presence made him feel special and watched, as if those nonchalant eyes of yours were the watching gaze of god. He couldn’t explain it, it was a chilly feeling, but at the same time it burned him from the inside. “Speak, father.” You spoke, then he suddenly slammed his hands against the wall separating the two of you. “My lord, you don’t have to speak politely with me. I, Fyodor, this lowly subject of yours, am ready to serve you with all my heart.” The male announced, smiling at you in delight, cheeks rosy as he declared you as his new god.
Anyone who heard this would have thought he was out of his mind, staring at him with a face that screams the word disbelief. But not you, contrary to what one would expect, your expression stayed neutral. “My subject? Lord?” You questioned his choice of vocabularies, tilting your head to the side. “Yes, oh lord, please let þis servant worship you.” Then, to your surprise, the father you were supposed to confess to kneeled down and clasped his hands together, praying to you with a sickening obsession.
That shivering, oppressive feeling didn’t leave him alone, it gnawed at him and told him this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do or not, all that wasn’t important anymore. Since his deity has come down and granted him an audience, he only has to follow their- your orders from now on.
Whatever got him acting this way was all in his head, you were nowhere near of being a god. Quite the opposite, you were just a human like him, and you found his actions irritating. But you weren’t any better, you didn’t correct him, rather, you liked that desperate look on his face. You wanted to test his limits, to see how far he’d go for you. In truth you enjoyed playing god for him, depending on who you are asking this might be even more twisted than what fyodor was pulling off.
It started with you getting him to do bothersome stuff for you, sometimes it also became materialistic. Other times you would just converse with him and enjoy his company. He’d ask tausend questions about you, some trivial, some existential ones. Most of the time you’d put up with his antics, acting like a benevolent and nice deity. That’s when one day, one of his curiosities caught you off guard. It was when he asked you:
“my lord, do.. you want me to comfort you?” You stared at him with furrowed brows and scoffed “comfort? Where did you get that idea?” “You look stressed my lord, I wish I could do something for you.” Fyodor said, he was on his knees in front of you, who was sitting on a bench in a huge room. The room where each Sunday a crowd of people would come in for morning prayers.
He looked up at you with foggy eyes, hands itching to worship your body. How could someone be this divine and perfect? Obviously he was the chosen one, he was born to meet you. “That… I’ve never done anything like that before. Speaking of which, have you, as a priest?” You questioned, a tiny bit interested. “No, I kept my chastity for you, my god.” Fyodor answered shamelessly, then thought about what you told him.
If what you said was right, then he awfully wanted to give his first to you, and to be your first as well. To take the virginity of his most beloved god and to give, there was nothing more he could ask of. “Is that so?” Your warm voice broke off the momentary silence, then you continued with, “come here.” You tapped your thighs, wondering if he would do it. Did he believe in you enough to commit something that has always been taboo for him? A part of you doubted it, but you wished he’d obey you yet again.
The boy stared at your moving hands for a while, then did as you instructed, climbing onto your lap with reddened cheeks. “…like this?” He raised his arms, about to wrap them around your neck but decided against that. Then he bawled them into fists and kept them behind his back, before grinding against your crotch with his own bulge. “Nghh... fo-forgive me, hah I-lord, can I please continue?" Fyodor mumbled with squinted eyes, biting his bottom lip while he let his desires take over. You grabbed his waist, wrinkling his black robe and stopping him, whispering, "D-don't move, not in the church." Your conscious forbid you from carrying out such acts in a holy place. Sure, you provoked him first, though you didn’t expect it to escalate this soon.
He begged you with glistening, teary eyes, hoping you'd let him go further than that. It felt so good he couldn't stop, he has never even touched himself before so that simple gesture was enough to make him drool. "P-please." Fyodor groaned into your ear, his voice has never been this needy or lewd, it surprised both of you. Instead of stopping when you told him to, he continued to grind against you and whimper, "use me however you see fit, my lord, please let me he-help you." You clenched your teeth, use is a strong word. It’d be a lie to say you weren't aroused, so you sighed and complied with his request, "dammit, fine. Go and get my bag."
This was how you were going to have your first? Giving it to a crazy priest who believes you were a being above humanity? Who would have guessed…
You watched him get off with shaky legs, the spot between his legs was all wet and sticky already. Was it normal to be this sensitive? It's probably because he's a virgin, just look at him eagerly bringing your stuff to you. Once he came back, you fumbled around in your bag, luckily you always brought your stuff with you in case of a spontaneous one-night-stand. It never happened before, yet you knew you would need it one day. After you were done with the preparations, you opened a pack of condom, about to pull it over your length when he clasped his hand over yours. "L-let me do it." He proposed, hands shaking with embarrassment as he took slowly pulled it down to the shaft. You almost laughed because he was making such a big deal out of it, sweating furiously with an ashamed gaze.
"Do you find it dirty to touch it?" You chuckled after watching him for a bit, finding his reactions pretty amusing. "No-no.!! No.. that, I-I'm.." His face heat up again as he tried to find the right words. In the end he decided to just speed up the entire thing, and grabbed the bottle of lube that was in your other hand. Then he squeezed the contents onto your dick and spread it evenly, wondering if this would even fit. After a minute, you grabbed his wrist and scoffed, "are you done playing?" Out of nervousness and excitement he forgot to stick it inside him, looking away in shame before lining the tip up with his hole.
"HnnGgh.. this is h-hard.." he complained under his breath, trying his best to take you. You wanted to prepare him first, but he said he wanted the first thing to enter him to be you and not some fingers. Since that was what he wanted, you decided to let him be. That's what led to your current situation, where he's desperately poking his entrance with your dick. “NghhHg..! Ah, f-feels good..” Finally he managed to take your tip, already panting like he had ran a marathon. "Good job." You praised him, then caressed his soft thighs. They were covered by his clothes, which annoyed you a little, so you gripped his hips and butt before slamming him down your cock. "AhhHGGgNN.!? AahHH..! H-hurts.." He moaned out loudly, then slumped against your chest, fingers clawing at you for support.
Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his body shivered at the sudden impact. You were stretching him so much, he could swear his butt was going to tear. At the same time he was so happy, enjoying this to the fullest. His insides were working overtime, trying to accommodate your thickness and length, his rim clenching and loosening up with each inhale. He made such sinful noises when your hands squeezed his snatched waist, to the point you wondered if he was telling the truth earlier. After waiting for him to stop holding onto you like his life depended on it, you cupped his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Look here, fyodor, tell me how good it feels.” Then you grind your hips against his.
The movements were minimal, you didn’t make him ride you yet, only pushing it slightly deeper inside him. Yet the reaction was better than expected. He arched his back, throwing his arms around your neck out of reflex and whined, “ahHhH!! I-i love it, god, it’s so NGhh m-my insides are tingling..♡” You clicked your tongue, grabbing his butt to have a better grip and praised him, “so good for me.. there’s to turning back now, you don’t mind sinning for me, right?” He didn’t even think twice before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want me to..!”
After getting his permission, you told him to hold onto you tightly. Once he did as you commanded, you manhandled him and made him go up and down your dick. Your little worshipper wasn’t particularly short, rather, he was unusually light. He couldn’t even keep a straight face composure anymore, crashing against you once again as he moaned into your ears. Poor boy was crying due to the overwhelming pleasure, thighs trying to close together in a twitching manner and toes curled off the ground. Drool dripped down his chin and soaked your clothes, all while he moaned out your Titel.
“L-lord, god.. ah, please!! S-slow down.. ngHh, too much, too big..♡♡” his voice became higher with each trust, and bruises began to form around his hips because of your rough grip. “Didn’t you say I can do what I want?” You reminded him, licking your lips when you saw his melting face. How those beautiful water drops raced down his cheeks like soft rain against a window. His pupils even formed little hearts to match that pleasure-ridden gaze in his eyes. Most of his bangs stuck to his forehead, the rest of his hair bounced around whenever you made him ride you.
Then you said fuck it and ripped his priest robe, so that you’d have more access to his skin. “Hu-hUHmnn..?! M-my lord! AhhHNN!!” He shrieked when he noticed one of your hand on his inner thighs, pinching and groping his skin. “W-why there..? Nghhh…” Fyodor groaned, a tad embarrassed by the intimate touch. His deity was touching him after all. Alone the thought of you, his one and only god, fucking him and using him was enough to get him to the verge of cumming.
More precum leaked from his shameless tip, soiling the back of your hand. “M-m’sorry, so-sorry..ah, for being d-dirty..!” He immediately apologised, holding your wrist weakly and bringing it to his lips. Then he slowly licked off the pre, using kitten licks that looked so inexperienced and adorable that you had to tease him more. Sticking your finger into his mouth and snapping your hips against his. Fastening your pace, going rougher and deeper, rutting into him like he was some fleshlight. At this point his petite body won’t be able to take it! He’s so slim and vulnerable, it’d be a shame to break his mind and make him your toy, wouldn’t it?
“MhmMNN… ah, r-right there..Nghh, too f-fast, g-god! feels good~ ♡” Fyodor mewled into your ears, squeaking as he tried to shake his ass for you. But he was more on the passive side, letting you move his body however you saw fit. His sloppy and slutty hole was making squelching noises whenever you bottom out in him, all sticky with lube already. You were so caught up in the moment, you weren’t even sure what you were doing. All you knew was you wanted to touch him, to feel up his figure and trace the outlines of his body. Then you kissed his neck, causing him to whimper uncontrollably. “Hnghh… I- mHhm, l-lord help me.. I want more♡ something is coming out..!!” The boy gasped and smiled, grinning satisfied, the expression almost looked dumb.
You did as he asked of you, slamming him down onto your dick harder and trying to hit his sweet spot more often. The way it rubbed and played with his soft and warm walls made him see the light, or he was just about to blank out. “Nghh! F-forgive me.. for my siiiinnns..!! ♡♥︎~” The priest, Fyodor, your exclusive worshipper and toy servant groaned a last time before shooting ropes of cum out of his twitching member. His thick and filthy cum got everywhere. From his ripped clothes to his milky inner thighs and chest. Then he slumped down, pleasure and sensations he never felt before all coursing through him at once. He felt so good, this was the first time he felt this amazing. It must be due to you, because of your blessings.
Oh how lucky he was to serve such a kindhearted and generous god, who was patient enough to show him all this bliss. This was heavenly~ His body was still a shaking, twitching mess. The lingering ecstasy making him sob and moan louder. After giving him a gift this great, he will have to serve you even more diligently and wholeheartedly! He will make sure to worship and treasure whatever you gave him!
Even you had to catch up your breath since the session was so intense, panting a little while still admiring him. You were still inside him, and he was clenching down onto you without letting you pull out. Then you leaned back against the lean of the bench, signing when you realised what you just did. Now you were definitely going to hell. Fucking a priest in the praying halls, were you possessed? Right before you could tell him to get off, since you two had to clean up, he took off his clothes completely. “Huh..? Fyodor?” You whispered in disbelief. Sure, you ruined his robes, but why did he take them off?
It was the first time you saw him entirely naked, and he was as skinny as you noticed him to be. His nipples were all hard and pink, a cute colour in your opinion. A few seconds later, he re-positioned himself in your lap despite his legs giving up under him. Then, he slowly rode you, jumping up and down while wrapping one hand around his shaft. You rushed to stop him, saying, “wait a sec- shouldn’t we, especially you, take a break?” Seriously, for how sickly and pathetic he looks, he had quit the stamina? Instead of obeying you like normally, fyodor smirked obsessively and moaned, “G-god, forgive me for i-indulging..! Ahhh.. I’m so sinful, I deserve punishment. But..!! it’s just so good I can’t stop ♥︎♡.”
What…? Wait- isn’t this priest too slutty…?? It seems you’ll have to suck it up and wait until he milked himself dry on your dick ♥︎
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modawg · 3 months
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i feel like if rick keeps saying the timeline just goes with whatever timeline it is irl (more or less) so the characters don’t age outside of cannon then annabeth would be the biggest slooth and knew everything abt percy before he even came to camp using that computer they have in the back
if we’re saying technology ages with the irl timeline yk
like i just know pre tlt the moment annabeth found out abt that prophecy and chiron told her they might’ve found their guy she was looking that kid up IMMEDIATELY
like she was looking up first name last name middle initial school records public court records everything abt his mom his step dad yada yada yada like genuinely i just know she would’ve looked into all that shit
like she probably went to luke after chiron told her abt percy and was like “they think they found the kid from the prophecy”
“oh shit fr ?? when are they gonna bring him to camp?”
“oh idk..”
“damn well-“
“but his names perseus jackson he lives in manhattan new york he’s been kicked out of 5 schools so far- he’s my age his birthdays coming up pretty soon, august 18th, so he’s a leo- his moms sally jackson she married his guy gabriel ugliano a couple years ago and hes currently going to boarding school called yancy academy which is where grovers at rn and where chirons going tomorrow. his public records say he’s pretty small too i could prob pick him up, shorter then me by 2 inches😌”
“oh-“
“nothing abt his dad tho chiron won’t tell me :/“
“and when did he tell you all that??”
“he told me his name last night i’ve been at the computer all day there aren’t many ppl by the name perseus lmao”
“cool..so when perseus-“
“chiron said grover calls him percy”
“ok so when percy comes to camp how abt we make sure he doesn’t think ur a creep ok? and we’ll keep this all to ourselves”
“:/ ok”
“ok..cool..”
“do you wanna know his blood type? i already told the apollo kids :)”
“please no”
logistically ik you can say “mo she can’t do that bc the monsters >:(“ FUCK THOSE MONSTERS
their protected by thalias tree at this point and i feel like she’d be one of the only ppl with access to that computer anyway like they keep that thing pretty lock and key so i could see annabeth sticking her hat on and creeping her way to the computer every other night before percy came just so she could know exactly who they would be bringing to camp
hc that annabeths a freak and we love her for it
i will forever believe annabeth has a scary “percy” folder hidden under her bed with a bunch of shit abt him in there
emails he sent her ? printed and annotated check
anything written/drawn by him ? check
anything medical just incase ? check
random facts abt him she probably wrote when he was gone to make herself feel better ? check
your honour she’s a menace and she loves that boy
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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Prologue
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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 7839 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.
Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.
But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.
Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.
However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.
Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?
Long summary I know, but I'm attempting something that I haven't tried to do in a long time and I've had this thought in my head for ages so I've just got to get it out now. This story will cover the plot from Season One to the beginning of Season Three. Apologies if anything is vague or inaccurate, I haven't watched the show in a while and cannot be bothered going back to get it right when the main plot of this story is entirely of my own design and not canon. Also, for the sake of the growing-up-together part, I've brought Dick's family's death up so he is taken in by Bruce earlier than 12 years old. I've always loved this version of Dick Grayson (Nightwing) in Young Justice and I hope I do him justice for those of you who also loved the show and him xx
~~~
(10 years old)
'Don't worry, my beloved,' Diana said in a soothing voice, patting her daughter's head gently as the car pulled up. 'It's not so scary on the inside.'
Wayne Manor was made of grey columns and dark shadows it seemed to little ten-year-old Y/N, who couldn't shake the feeling that the house was full of ghosts. It was an imposing structure, making her wonder how anyone would choose to live in such a cold and lifeless place.
'I want to go home, Mother,' she whimpered, backing away from the car window.
Diana turned her daughter's head to face her, giving her best reassuring smile to alleviate some of her daughter's worries. 'We will, but I need to take care of something first and I can't leave you at home alone. My very good friend has kindly offered for his butler to look after you while we sort our business out. He has a son that I think you will get along with quite well.'
Y/N couldn't believe that a child lived in the scary house outside, but she knew when not to question her mother.
Her mother was always busy, it didn't matter what time of the day or night. Y/N didn't quite know what her mother did, but she knew it was dangerous, as her mother would come home with cuts and bruises, exhausted from whatever she'd just been doing. The partial truth of it all came out just last week, as Y/N and her nanny had been attacked in their small apartment in Washington DC. The nanny had locked Y/N in the bathroom when the men attacked so Y/N didn't see what happened to her. But Y/N had heard her screams, had heard the men laughing at her anguish. She'd heard her mother finally arrive and slaughter the men. And when Y/N was finally let out of the bathroom, her mother's red, white, blue and gold metallic outfit was covered in blood, as was the sword she'd dropped as she pulled Y/N into her arms tightly.
Whatever kind of work her mother and her mother's "good friend" were involved in, if she said Wayne Manor was the safest place to be when she worked, then Y/N wouldn't argue.
It didn't stop Y/N from squeezing her mother's hand to the point of cut off circulation as they walked from the car into the scary house.
'Miss Prince,' a man in a tuxedo said in welcome. He was partially bald and his moustache twitched when he spoke.
'Alfred,' Diana said, giving the older man a warm smile. 'So good to see you again. And please, I am Diana to friends and family.'
'Of course,' Alfred said, a cheeky smile on his face, 'but forgive me if I prefer to be a little old-fashioned, Miss Prince.'
'Very well,' Diana said, turning her gaze down to Y/N. 'This is my daughter, Y/N.'
Alfred smiled warmly down at Y/N, crouching ever so slightly to hold out his hand. 'A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Y/N. Welcome to Wayne Manor.'
Y/N hesitated in taking his hand. She'd always been taught to be cautious around strangers.
'Come on, Y/N,' Diana insisted. 'Don't be rude.'
Y/N, with her free hand, accepted Alfred's outstretched one, giving it a firm shake like she'd seen her mother do with people she had meetings with at work and at home.
'My, you certainly have your mother's strength,' Alfred commented as he stood back up, shaking his hand a little. 'I'll be sure not to mess with you when you grow older.'
Y/N didn't have time to process what Alfred meant when two dark figures walked down a grand staircase into the lobby they stood in. As they drew closer to the light, Y/N distinguished one as a tall and broad-shouldered man with dark hair, neat attire, and a stern face. Beside him was a small child close to her height, also with dark hair and flashing blue eyes. Unlike the taller man, though, his face was bright with intrigue and mischief.
'Diana,' the tall man said by way of greeting as he reached the ground floor with the boy.
'Bruce,' she replied, walking herself and Y/N over to him and the boy. 'Thank you for offering to look after Y/N tonight.'
'Well, it won't be me personally,' Bruce replied, 'but I'm sure Alfred will be able to look after them while we're gone.'
'If I could raise you to be the man that you are today, Master Bruce, I am sure two beautiful children won't be much of a task,' Alfred called out casually as he closed the front door and exited the room.
'I've contacted Clark,' Bruce continued. 'He says he'll meet us at the rendezvous point. We should leave soon.'
Diana nodded. 'Okay.'
To her surprise, Y/N found Bruce's gaze on her, and his stern expression softened as he looked her over. 'This must be the famous Y/N I've heard so much about.'
Y/N remembered her mother's lessons on etiquette and nodded politely. 'Nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne.'
Bruce surprised her again as a small smile broke out, making him look younger and less intimidating than before. 'It's nice to meet you too, Y/N,' he said, looking down to the boy beside him. 'This is my ward, Richard.'
The young boy groaned in annoyance. 'It's Dick, Bruce. You know I don't like it when you use my real name.'
Bruce sighed, but conceded. 'Sorry, this is Dick. I hope the two of you get along tonight, Y/N.'
Before Y/N could reply, Dick stepped forward so that they only stood a step apart. His blue eyes were so bright as they scanned over her, and it took all of her will not to hide behind her mother.
He squinted sceptically at her. 'Do you like sparring, Y/N?'
'Dick,' Bruce exclaimed, eyes wide with horror. 'That's not something you should ask-'
Y/N ignored Bruce's protests as she locked eyes with Dick. She saw the challenge in them, and whatever fears she had about coming here faded away. A fire sparked in her, and she couldn't help herself but grab Dick's unsuspecting wrist and flip him over her and land him on his back. Before he could get up, she pressed a knee to his neck softly as she held him down.
'Y/N!' Diana exclaimed. 'That is not how we treat-'
She was cut off by the sound of Dick laughing, a sound so pure and light it brightened up the gloomy interior of the manor. Dick looked up at Y/N, not even bothered by the fact she was an inch away from cutting off his airway. 'Oh yeah, we're going to get along just fine, Bruce.'
The last of her apprehension to the arrangement disappeared as she released Dick from her death grip and helped him to his feet, a bright smile gracing her features.
'Where'd you learn to flip like that?' Dick asked.
'My mother,' she answered proudly. 'We've practiced for thirty minutes everyday since I was eight. I've also been taking classes back in Washington in judo and karate.'
'Cool!' Dick said. 'Maybe you can teach me some moves?'
'Sure!' Y/N answered.
Without even hesitating, Dick grabbed Y/N's hand and took off running to who knew where, words falling from him like a dam that had just been broken. 'Awesome! And then I can show you some of the cool gymnast tricks I picked up in the circus.'
'You were in the circus? That's so cool!'
The two of them were lost in their own world as Bruce and Diana remained in the lobby, looking after their children lovingly before they disappeared completely. When silence filled the room once more, they turned to each other.
'How much does she know?' Bruce asked.
Diana sighed. 'Enough to know that she will never have a normal life. Not after the incident last week. I thought I had a bit more time.'
Bruce placed a hand on his friend's shoulder comfortingly. 'I'm sorry, Diana. Truly. It's hard enough protecting a child who isn't your own. At least Dick has known death before. He knows everything.'
Diana nodded her appreciation, patting Bruce's hand before he let it drop. 'She will know, one day, what all this means. What her destiny is. Until now she has shown how much of Steve she has in her.' Diana paused at the memory of her fallen lover, feeling the tears rise up whenever she thought of him. 'But I fear she will grow to inherit my power, my responsibilities. I don't know if I'm ready to let her become that for the world. Not yet.'
'Diana,' Bruce said softly, 'she might not have a choice one day. I fear the same thing for Dick. You and I won't be around forever. The world will look to them to help, one day.'
Somewhere in the distance, Y/N and Dick's laughter resonated through the manor, giving it a warmth Bruce hadn't felt in a while. He smiled at the sensation. 'But for now, they have a choice. They can choose to be kids. Until the world no longer needs us.'
~~~
(11 years old)
'Uuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhh,' Y/N groaned as she flopped onto Dick's bed, textbook flattening over her face in defeat. 'I give up. I'm never going to pass this infuriating maths exam next week.'
All Y/N received was an amused laugh from the dark-haired boy, resulting in her throwing her textbook at his head where we sat on the floor. But Dick had always been quick, dodging the book easily. He was even more quick since they'd started training with each other since she moved to Gotham permanently for school.
She was enrolled at the same school as Dick: Gotham Academy. It was the best school in the area, and when she'd received her scholarship, her mother couldn't refuse her wishes to move. Y/N stayed in the boarding house for the most part, but being friends with the Bruce Wayne's only son certainly had its perks. Such as getting out of the boarding house whenever she needed to study and train without prying eyes.
Dick laughed again. 'Come on, Y/N,' he said, picking up her strewn textbook and offering it back to her. 'It's not so bad. We're just trying to find x.'
Y/N rolled over onto her stomach so Dick wasn't upside down anymore. 'Yes, and it is impossible! I mean, they give us nothing to try and figure out a and b, but we need them both to find out x. How?!'
When Y/N didn't take her book back, Dick put it on the ground and shuffled forwards. He did so until he was half an arm's length away from Y/N's face where it rested in her hands.
'All right, let's have a break,' he said. 'Focus on something else. How about... Ooo, I know! What would your vigilante name be?'
Y/N's eyebrows furrowed. 'What?'
'Your vigilante name,' Dick reported. 'You know, like a code name for ordinary people to refer you by. Like Bruce for example, he's Batman.'
'So like my mother too, who is Wonder Woman,' Y/N added.
Dick nodded. 'Correct. When we start fighting bad guys - and we will some day - we will need alter egos so villains don't pursue us outside of an ordinary mission.'
Y/N sat up as Dick jumped to his feet, pulling out all kinds of ninja-karate moves, many of which Y/N had taught him herself over the last year. 'I think I'll be something winged too. Batman needs to be accompanied by another flying animal, don't you think?'
'That is... logical,' Y/N admitted, though not understanding his motives for the specific topic. 'I haven't given much thought to the matter, honestly. I'm too busy trying to find this dumb x value.'
Dick landed a slam kick against thin air before he took up a normal standing position in front of Y/N. He smiled down proudly at her. 'I was thinking of just bird,' he confessed, taking a seat beside her on his bed, 'but then I thought that was boring. Batman and Bird, yeah sooooo intimidating. So I was thinking maybe Hawk, or Sparrow-'
'Why does it have to be intimidating?' Y/N asked.
Dick paused for the first time in the conversation and looked at her as if she was crazy. 'Because Batman is intimidating. I don't want to be seen as a sissy when I rock up beside him to fights. I defs won't feel the aster, then.'
'But shouldn't a hero be giving people reassurance and hope when they come to save people?' Y/N countered. 'Why would you want to be something that all people dread when you enter the door. I think a hero's name should be strong and encouraging. Something like my mother's.'
Dick rolled his eyes. 'You're just saying that because she's you're mum.'
Y/N shook her head. 'No I'm not. I've seen it first hand. When my mother shows up to lend a hand, the people cry with joy and relief because they know she will do all that she can to save them. I'm not saying Batman - Bruce - doesn't do the same thing, but I just know that when I have to be a hero, I would hope my name inspires people to keep hoping. Not fear me.'
Y/N watched Dick process her words, saw his piercing blue eyes grow distant as he looked down at his hands. For a moment, Y/N worried she'd ruined everything. That she'd overstepped. Dick and Bruce's relationship - it was more of an arrangement, in her opinion - was tenuous to say the least, the two of them always dancing on a very thin line that could snap at any moment when push comes to shove. Either way, it wasn't her place to comment on how Dick should handle his relationship to Bruce.
However, when Dick looked up to Y/n again, she was relieved to find he wasn't angry at her. In fact, a soft smile had bloomed on his lips.
'You're right,' he said softly. 'I don't have to be scary. Bruce has that all covered.'
'Glad to hear it,' Y/N replied with a a reciprocal smile. 'So... anymore ideas on your name?'
'Well, I still believe it's got to be a bird of sorts,' Dick answered. 'But let's steer clear of the birds of prey, shall we? Maybe Jaybird, or Bluebird. No, that's stupid. Raven? Nah, that's going backwards...'
'How about Robin?' Y/N suggested, and Dick's smile broadened to the point Y/N was scared he'd split his mouth right open.
'That's perfect!' he exclaimed, bringing her into a hug. 'Batman and Robin. It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?'
'It sure does,' Y/N said, grateful to have helped.
When Dick let her go, he said, 'Now how about you? What do you think your vigilante name should be?'
Y/N thought about it for a moment, but could only come up with one name. 'I like Wonder Woman, but mother already has that. I don't think two of us would make it easy for the public, especially if she is still working.'
'That is true,' Dick replied, turning away from her as he delved into deep thought. Y/N could tell he was thinking deeply as his tongue was poking out ever so slightly - the thing he always did when he was concentrating really hard. Y/N always found it amusing since the day she met him.
Y/N jumped a little when Dick suddenly cried out with excitement. He turned back to her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look directly at him. 'How about we take inspiration from your mother? Use part of her name to create yours. Like Wonder Girl!'
Y/N shook her head. 'No, that's really lame, Dick.'
'Wonder Kid?'
'No.'
'Wonder... Child?'
'No!'
Dick snapped his fingers and his eyes brightened as Y/N assumed a great thought popped into his head. 'I've got it: Wonderess! You know, like Wonder Woman and goddess put together!'
'Wonderess...' Y/N tested it out on her tongue, and she smiled at how easy it rolled off. It was simple, it was to the point. She could just hear the world now, shouting and screaming and crying her name for joy, for help.
She couldn't stop her smile from widening and matching Dick's. 'I love it.'
'Great!' Dick slid back down to the floor and grabbed the forgotten textbook she'd thrown at him earlier. 'Now, oh mighty and powerful Wonderess, time for you to conquer the alluding and difficult enemy that is mathematics.'
Despite her earlier anguish, Y/N felt rejuvenated and took the book from Dick and opened it back to the page she'd failed to understand. 'Then conquer mathematics we shall, oh sneaky and charming Robin.'
Dick flashed her one of his dazzling smiles. 'Oh yeah, I can see it now. Robin is going to be popular with the ladies when I'm older.'
Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't contain her smile. 'Don't make me throw this book at you again.'
Dick raised his hands in mock surrender before they both dove back into their respective homework. But after five minutes of work, Y/N had another thought.
'Dick. What does "aster" mean?' ~~~
(13 years)
When Y/N had walked into the Hall of Justice earlier that day, she never imagined that she'd end up helping her best friend and the sidekicks of the Flash and Aquaman break into a top secret and highly secured lab centre, get captured by the mad scientists running the show down there, break out and now be standing in front of the Justice League as a Superman look-alike (that they'd broke into for and out of with) stared down his creation's inspiration.
'Start talking' Batman said, finally breaking the tense silence.
Between Kaldur, Wally, Dick, and Y/N (Superboy, Y/N realised early on, didn't talk much), the story of how they ended up at Cadmus and pretty much destroyed it was eventually told. Afterwards, the blockbuster monster they'd fought was taken away by Green Lantern and some other League members. Y/N couldn't help but peak at her mother as Wonder Woman herself conversed with Superman and Martian Manhunter. For a brief moment, Diana looked her daughter's way then quickly averted her gaze. But Y/N knew from that one look that her mother was unimpressed by her actions today.
'Cadmus will be investigated,' Batman said, after Superman said a frosty goodbye to his younger clone. 'All fifty-two levels. But let's make one thing clear-'
'You should've called!' the Flash finished, crossing his arms, clearly disappointed in his sidekick's efforts.
'End results aside, we are not happy,' Batman continued. 'You hacked Justice League systems; you disobeyed direct orders; and you endangered lives. You will not be doing this again.'
Y/N's heart faltered at the very notion. Despite the wreckage and the stress and the struggles they had faced, Y/N very much liked working with Dick, with Kaldur and Wally too. Even the Superboy was enjoyable at some points. To never work with them again was not something she expected she would miss after one mission.
Kaldur and the other boys must've read her mind, as he stepped forward, standing tall and speaking with a strong voice well beyond his years. 'I'm sorry,' he began, eyes never leaving Batman, 'but we will.'
'Aqualad,' Aquaman started, stepping up behind Batman. 'Stand down.'
'Apologies, my King. But no,' Aqualad replied. 'We did good work here tonight. The work you trained us to do. Together. On our own. We forged something powerful. Important.'
'If this is about your treatment at the hall,' the Flash started, 'the four of you-'
'The five of us,' Wally corrected, looking directly at Superboy as he did, 'and it's not.'
'Batman,' Dick said, stepping to the front of the group. 'We're ready to use what you taught us. Or why teach us at all?'
'Why let them tell us what to do?' Superboy interrupted, pushing past Dick to take the lead. 'It's simple, get on board. Or get out of the way.'
Y/N joined her friends in staring down the heads of the Justice League. It was an intimidating figure they all posed, but Y/N knew she was doing the right thing. That her and her friends had done the right thing tonight.
Diana joined Batman, the Flash, and Martian Manhunter, her face unreadable and voice monotone. 'Are you sure this is the path you would like to forge, Wonderess?' she asked, her voice echoing in the crater they stood in.
Apart from Dick and Bruce, no one else (to Y/N's knowledge) knew that Wonder Woman and Wonderess were related in any manner. Not that either disguised themselves like other heroes did - purposefully hiding their faces to conceal their identities like Batman and the Flash - but neither outwardly acknowledged their true relationship either.
However, Y/N could tell her mother wasn't just asking her as her sidekick, but as her daughter. Was Y/N really prepared to risk all she had trained for, for some... strangers?
Y/N eyed the golden lasso that hung at her mother's hip, and opened her hand to summon the seemingly never-ending rope into her hand. It wrapped around several times, then glowed as Y/N clenched a tight fist around it.
'I am more certain than I have ever been, Wonder Woman,' Y/N replied, feeling the lasso urge her to speak all her truth. 'While I still endeavour to one day be your successor, my place is with my friends right now. We need to walk this path together, wherever it leads. I know this to be absolute truth.'
Y/N sucked in a breath as she let go of the lasso, feeling slightly drained from the power it had over her. Dick put a hand on her back to brace her as she recovered. Once Y/N had caught her breath, she spared Dick a grateful smile, which he reciprocated.
Just as it had been from day one, they would ride this wave together. No matter how rough.
The very next day, the five of them were taken to Mount Justice, the backup facility for the Justice League as Batman explained. Upon arrival, they met M'gann, Martian Manhunter's niece, and soon after Artemis was brought into the mix.
Soon, they were the Young Justice.
~~~
(13 years old)
'Congratulations team, you have won the day,' Red Tornado said as he laid dismembered on the ground.
The rest of the team had just reconnected as the Justice computer phased a date and time code onto one of the glass walls of the Watchtower. It read: January 01, 00:00 EST.
'Happy New Year, Justice League,' the computer announced.
To no one's surprise, Wally picked up Artemis and pulled her in for a long-awaited kiss. M'gann and Connor paired up, so did Rocket and Aqualad surprisingly.
Y/N felt uncomfortable watching them all making out, so she turned to her best friend so they could give them all some privacy. 'Hey Dick, let's go-'
But as she turned around, Y/N saw that Dick had also paired off with someone: Zatanna. This time, Y/N couldn't help but stare as the two of them made out.
Since day one of Zatanna joining the team, Y/N had noticed Dick had a thing for her. Who wouldn't? She was beautiful, she was just a year older than them but that just made her more desirable, and she was good with magic!
Something stirred inside Y/N, something that twisted her guts to the point she thought she'd throw up. Was it jealousy? No, she wasn't the jealous type. Besides, Dick was her best friend, no one could change that. He could kiss whoever he wanted to kiss. At the end of the day, they'd still talk and laugh and spar and go get ice cream together.
...Right?
'Human customs still allude me,' Red Tornado said from his place on the floor.
'You're not the only one...' Y/N mumbled to herself, standing all alone.
~~~
(16 years old)
Y/N was just sparring on a test dummy when Dick entered the training ring looking a little worse for wear, his usual mischievous smile not visible.
'Hey,' Y/N said, finishing up her combo of kicks and punches, heaving in deep breaths. 'What's up, bird brain?'
He didn't reply straight away, instead standing on the edge of the fight ring as if afraid to step out of the shadows and into the light. Y/N raised an eyebrow in confusion. 'Dick?'
When he didn't respond again, Y/N walked over to him. And when she got closer, she realised why he remained in the darkness.
'Have you been crying?' she asked softly, scared to speak too loud in case he ran away.
Dick wasn't an emotional guy. He just wasn't. He was the mischievous gremlin who kept the team together with his witty remarks, charm, and sheer intelligence. And even though Kaldur had been the leader of their team for years now, Dick always wanted to be a leader like Bruce was for the Justice League. He never gave himself room to be emotional.
So for him to stand in front of Y/N with red-rimmed eyes and tear marks streaking down his face, whatever had just happened had to be so impactful it finally broke his resolve.
He averted his eyes. 'Zatanna,' he started, biting his lip to suppress sobs falling out between the words. 'She broke up with me.'
Subconsciously, Y/N had been dreaming about hearing those words for a long time. She didn't quite understand why, as Zatanna was a close friend and Dick was by far her best friend so of course she only ever wanted happiness for them. But now that Dick stood in front of her so broken and sad, Y/N only felt sorry and remorse.
'Oh Dick,' she said. 'I'm so sorry... How can I help?'
Dick shook his head vigorously, eyes still averted from her. 'Can you just... Can we spar please? I think I really need that right now.'
His tone was restrained, as if he were holding back what he really thought. Y/N had half a thought to suggest they just talk, but when he finally looked directly at her, how could she refuse her best friend? After all, she was the only one he never wore his glasses around. Even after all these years with the team, he trusted no one else but her with his identity.
The original members knew, but even then he still wore his shades around them half the time if he wasn't in his vigilante suit. But not around Y/N, though. Never around Y/N.
'All right,' Y/N conceded, walking with him back to the centre of the fighting ring. She stood in her usual starting position, hands raised and feet split ready to fight. 'Same rules as last time?'
Dick nodded. 'No flying from you, no gadgets from me. Just us.'
'Perfect.'
Y/N launched into a heated sparring match, much more heated than any other match she'd had before with him. Sparring matches are usually to practice a skill, usually some punches can be pulled. But not now, Dick was throwing himself into everything, becoming sloppy, opening himself up. While the first few jabs Y/N got in were small victories, she soon grew worried as he grew more and more reckless as the match progressed.
'You're opening yourself up too easily, Dick,' Y/N commented between heavy breaths. 'Tighten up your stance.'
Dick groaned with frustration in answer, throwing another punch at her which she easily ducked and palm-punched his abdomen hard. He stumbled back as he caught his breath, but Y/N took it as her chance to end the fight as she charged at him, crash-tackled him to the mat with a bit more super-strength than she'd been using and pinning his limbs to the ground.
Dick struggled under her, but she refused to let go. 'Concede, Grayson. Now,' she demanded.
She rarely used his last name, only when he was in serious trouble or when she really needed him to listen. So he stopped, and he looked up at her and he nodded. 'I concede,' he said between huffs of air.
Y/N nodded her head in acknowledgement before stepping off him and helping him to his feet. For years they had been the same height, but once Dick had hit fourteen, he shot up fast. He was still lean and more on the skinny side, but he was toned in certain places and he now stood a head taller than Y/N. But she didn't let his new height stop her from locking eyes with him.
'Do you feel... somewhat better now?' she asked cautiously, feeling that Dick was on the brink of an explosion, she was just unsure what kind it would be.
To her surprise, Dick's piercing blue eyes welled up with tears. 'No,' he said.
Y/N immediately wrapped her arms around him, and Dick fell into her and wrapped himself around her as if she were a warm blanket on a cold night. They stood like that - with Dick crying silently into her shoulder and Y/N rubbing soothing circles into his back - for who knew how long. A minute, two, an hour maybe. It didn't matter, Dick needed Y/N'S help so she would stay there as long for as it took.
'She said she couldn't do it anymore,' he said finally, tears finally finished running, but he still didn't break from Y/N's embrace. 'The long distance.'
'Being promoted to the Justice League is a huge commitment, Dick,' Y/N offered.
'It's not just that, though,' he said. 'I think she couldn't take me anymore. Ever since Jason-'
His voice cracked on the mention of his fallen brother, the next ward Bruce had taken under his wing. When he joined the team, Jason took over the Robin mantle, giving Dick freedom to explore a new path of vigilante identity. One outside of Bruce's shadow and the dynamic duo of Batman and Robin. He'd settled upon Nightwing - another name Y/N helped come up with - and he'd taught Jason everything he knew about being Robin and how he could find his own meaning for the role.
But Jason never got the chance to do the same for the next Robin, who Bruce mentioned would never be found after Jason's death. Jason had been killed on a mission with the Batman himself only a month ago, and Dick had secretly been a wreck ever since. He'd learnt from his sponsor who to hide his emotions, but Y/N assumed he had to let it out to someone or someones every so often. Those people were herself, and no doubt Zatanna.
Despite her bubbly and adventurous personality, Zatanna knew death, knew grief. It suddenly angered Y/N at the thought that Zatanna had dumped Dick because he was grieving and couldn't give her the attention he had become known to give her daily.
Y/N held her tongue as she pulled him tighter, though. Now was not the time to rub salt into his open and bloody wound.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me, Dick,' Y/N reassured him. 'I understand.'
He squeezed her tighter. 'First my family, then Jason, now Zatanna. Promise me you won't leave too. Promise.'
'I promise, Dick,' Y/N answered. 'I'll always be here if you need me.'
Dick finally pulled away from her, but only far enough that he still held her in his arms and she had to angle her head harshly upwards to look him in the eye. Despite the redness, Dick's eyes still shone a blue that didn't seem quite real - like the colour of the purest, cleanest ocean.
So beautiful.
'You're my best friend, Y/N,' he said softly, a grateful smile finally breaking through his sadness. 'You know that right?'
Once upon a time, Y/N wouldn't have hesitated in answering. Yes, she would say, because it was the truth. It was the truth still, but a discomforting feeling in her stomach squirmed at the words "best friend". What he meant to her went past the simple label, at least in her opinion. But she just couldn't quite put it into words yet.
'Y-Yeah, I know,' she stammered out quickly. She had paused way too long to answer. 'Just like you're mine, bird brain. Don't think a bunch of tears is going to scare me off so easily.'
She was so glad to be the one to make him laugh then. It was the most melodic sound she'd ever heard, even though she'd heard it a thousand times before. Dick could never be tiring to her.
Finally - and thankfully - Dick stepped out of her arms, allowing her to suck in air that had previously been missing from between them. But he stole it all right back when he flashed her that charming smile of his.
'Guess I'll see you tomorrow, Wonderess,' he said. 'Thanks again for the sparring. I'll be sure to tighten up for next time.'
'G-Great, good, excellent,' Y/N stumbled over her words, unable to breathe when he smiled so causally yet so beautifully at her. 'See you tomorrow.'
Dick gave her a tiny wave as he left the room. As he left, Artemis and M'gann strolled in wearing civvies. They greeted and farewelled Dick before continuing to walk to Y/N, who stood frozen where Dick had left her staring after him.
'You okay, Y/N?' Artemis asked, waving a hand in front of Y/N's face. 'Helloooooo. Earth to Y/N?'
'Maybe she's fallen into a hypnotic state,' M'gann suggested. 'Or worse! A mind ant has taken over her brain! I'll have to go inside her mind to weed it out.'
That finally disrupted Y/N from her stupor. 'No! No need for that. No mind ants here,' she frantically said just M'gann was about to enter her mind.
'Then why were you looking like Medusa had risen from her mythical death and frozen you in place?' Artemis asked, deadpan.
'First of all, Medusa was a real person. Greek Mythology is real, or therefore my mother and I wouldn't be here today,' Y/N countered. 'Second of all... I think I a have a crush on Dick.'
As soon as she said the words, she knew them to be true. She didn't need to discuss it with the girls, she already knew.
Y/N Prince, daughter of Wonder Woman, had a huge, fat crush on her best friend, and son of Batman himself, Richard 'Dick' Grayson.
'Shit,' all three girls said at once.
~~~ (18 years old)
Y/N watched with sad eyes as two of her closest friends walked away under the cover of darkness. Again. Kaldur and Artemis - the latter now legally dead - waved farewell before they entered a small submarine, on their way to continue infiltration of the Light on Kaldur's father's ship.
Two figures stepped up beside Y/N. 'Well,' Wally started, 'I guess that's that.'
'For now,' Dick said. 'I promise, Wally, we'll bring them both back.'
'Yeah, whatever,' Wally said, turning to leave. 'You're my bro, Dick. But if Artemis is really killed because of this, I will never forgive you.'
Wally's footsteps resounded through the empty fishing warehouse as Y/N continued to stare out at the ocean. Soon, it was just her and Dick.
'We should head back to headquarters,' Dick suggested. 'Someone might start to wonder where we are.'
But Y/N didn't turn to leave, still transfixed by the ocean. 'I thought I was okay with all this,' Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 'I convinced myself that this was for the greater good. But now I'm not so sure.'
'What do you mean, Y/N?' Dick asked.
'The lying, Dick,' she answered, finally turning to him. 'The secrets, the faking of deaths and undercover betrayals. If we keep this up, it'll tear the team apart.'
'It won't,' Dick reassured her, his voice so certain and sure. 'When this is all over and we explain it all, they will understand. I expect some disappointment and hostility for a while, but one day they'll understand why we did what we did. But this team we've built, Y/N, it is stronger than all this. I know it.'
Y/N shook her head, wanting to believe him but unable to put aside the horrible feeling in her gut. 'I know they are strong. I just wish there was another way for us to win.'
'Trust me, if there was, I would've taken it,' Dick said, and even with a mask on, Y/N knew he was telling the truth. 'I want all of us fighting this together. For now, we've just got to trust in Kaldur and Artemis that they will succeed.'
Y/N nodded, her gaze returning to the flat ocean waters where her friends had long since left behind. 'Maybe you should've sent me like I suggested,' Y/N said half-heartedly. 'You're a great substitute for leader, Dick. Truly. But the team took Kaldur's betrayal heavily, and Artemis and Wally were out of the game. We shouldn't have brought them back in. Wonder Girl is trained up enough to take my place. You don't need me.'
'Don't say that.'
Y/N could barely react as she was grabbed by her shoulders and forced to face Dick, who had crouched so he was eye-level to her and leaned in so she could see the slightest gleam of his pupils through the white mask.
'Don't say that,' Dick repeated, his grip on her shoulders firm and grounding. 'We do need you. You're a founding member too, Y/N. Regardless of if it were Kaldur or not, the team would've struggled without any one of us. And the only reason I was able to lead this team this past year is because I knew you had my back the entire time.'
'Really?' she asked, the one word a struggle to get out.
His expression softened and he loosened his grip. But Dick didn't release her yet. 'Y/N, you are always the one giving hope to the team whenever I can't raise their spirits. You were the one to console them after Kaldur leaving. You are strong and brave and you never give up, especially when the chips are down. And they have been down on us a lot lately.'
Y/N caught her breath as Dick released one shoulder to use his pointer finger to hold her chin up, making her look directly at him. 'It kills me that you don't see yourself how everyone else sees you. Which is amazing, Y/N. Amazing and wonderful.'
Y/N swore Dick could hear her heart thudding rapidly against her chest. In the two years since realising it, her crush on her best friend hadn't faded like she'd hoped. Instead, it had grown and blossomed but Dick still couldn't see how much she absolutely adored him. She'd resigned herself to the fact that he would never feel that way about her, and also if they were to date, then it would just make working together all the more complicated. She couldn't compromise on the team's relationship.
But as Y/N looked into Dick's eyes now, a little spark of hope flickered inside her. He was so close to her, he had to feel her heartbeat. He had to know... right?
A wind of doubt blew out the spark and she stepped away from Dick so her head would stop spinning. 'You just had to get a pun in there, didn't you?' she said, surprised at how calm and casual her voice came out all things considered.
Dick took a moment to gather himself, as if he too had been lost deep in thought. But soon that infamous smile of his stretched his lips and Y/N knew she could never say no to him. 'What can I say? I'm an opportunist.'
'I thought you were a gymnast.'
'I am also your best friend, and so I am legally obliged to slip in puns about you whenever possible.'
'Oh, do you now?' Y/N asked, lightly shoving him as she made for the warehouse door. Dick was right, they needed to head home before anyone started questioning their whereabouts.
Dick quickly caught up. 'I mean it Y/N. You are my best friend.'
'I know,' Y/N said nonchalantly, trying not to let the words sting too much. But she managed a soft smile as she said, 'And you are mine. Always have been...'
Dick flashed her a genuine smile, no charm, no hidden agenda behind it. He held his pinky finger up, to which Y/N linked her own with. '...Always will be,' he finished.
As they went home, Y/N felt better about Kaldur and Artemis' mission, as well as her place in the team. But she was now even more confused about Dick and how he felt about her. They were best friends, had been through so much together, it wouldn't be wise to ruin all that now.
But the way he'd looked at her, maybe there was a chance after all.
~~~
(18 years old)
'You're leaving?'
Y/N and Kaldur couldn't believe what they'd just heard. One minute, the three of them were discussing the team's next move after foiling the Reach's invasion plans and splitting the Light in half, and the next...
'That's correct,' Dick said. 'I just... I think I need to take a break for a while.'
'For how long?' Y/N asked, finally getting over the initial shock of his announcement. It had been a hectic day, full of surprises and sacrifices nobody saw coming. Right now, in her opinion, everyone needed to band together, not... leave.
Dick shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know. But it definitely won't be quick. This team has been my whole life for five years now. I think it's time I stepped away, let Kaldur take the reins again.'
'The team will not be the same without you,' Kaldur offered.
'The team already isn't the same,' Dick said solemnly, and the slightest crack in his voice indicated to Y/N what he was referring to. 'You, me, Y/N, Wally. We founded this team. Without him...'
Dick didn't need to finish. Y/N had felt Wally's absence since the moment he fazed out of existence. He saved the world, but he'd been too slow to combat the chrysalis' energy. Not even the Flash or Impulse could save him. It made Y/N so mad, because Wally must've known he wouldn't come out of it alive. He knew he was too slow, having been out of the game for so long.
And yet he did it anyway, because that was who Wally West - Kid Flash - was.
'I understand,' Kaldur said, placing a comforting hand on Dick's shoulder.
'Thanks,' Dick said, then looked to the boom tubes of the Watchtower. 'I should probably go.'
'What? Now?' Y/N asked. 'At least see the day through, Dick.'
'There's nothing else for me to see through, Y/N,' he countered, already making his way to the boom tubes to make his exit. 'Kaldur is back, and so is the Justice League. I am no longer needed.'
Kaldur didn't follow Y/N as she chased after Dick. 'At least let the team know personally you'll be leaving. Don't you think they deserve that much from you after all we've done?'
'All I did was sign Wally's death sentence,' Dick answered harshly, not even bothering to turn around and face her. 'Yeah, the team really deserves that from their substitute leader.'
The two of them stopped before the boom tubes, facing each other one last time. Y/N grabbed Dick's wrist before he could dial in his code to exit the Watchtower.
'Dick, please,' Y/N pleaded, voice tight with desperation. 'I know you're hurting right now. We all are feeling Wally's death. But the team needs you right now. I need you...'
It was a last ditch attempt at convincing him that he meant more to her than just a friend. That he was her glue, that he was important to her and the team. That, even if he was nothing else, he was her best friend, and she was his.
Always have been... Always will be.
Don't go, she wanted to say, but the words never came out. It's like Dick had always been a part of her life; she now couldn't imagine her life without his witty remarks, without his odd use of words like "aster" and "traught", without his charming smile and kind eyes. She couldn't imagine life without him. Please, don't go.
Dick's sad expression told her he'd made his mind up before he even spoke the words.
'I'm sorry, Y/N,' he said softly, pulling her into a gentle embrace where he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead. 'But I can't deal with this right now.'
As if in a dream, Dick stepped out of the embrace and dialled in his code for the boom tube.
'B:01 - NIghtwing,' the computer announced as the boom tube activated.
Dick was a step away from leaving Y/N behind when she called out, 'Don't be a stranger!'
She knew he had already made his mind up. But that didn't mean the two of them couldn't still be what they had always been. Best friends.
To her joy, Dick stopped and turned back around, a melancholic smile on his face as he held up his pinky finger. 'Always have been...'
Y/N reciprocated his smile as she too held up her pinky finger, imagining hooking it with his. '...Always will be,' she replied softly.
And then he was gone, and Y/N was left standing alone in the Watchtower.
She didn't realise she was crying until Dick was gone, until her senses had returned fully and felt the sensation of tears rolling down her face. That's when she acknowledged she was truly, utterly, hopelessly sad.
Because for the first time in seven years, Dick was no longer by her side. She didn't have Dick to fall back on when things got tough; she didn't have Dick to talk to about her issues with the new recruits; she didn't have Dick to laugh with after a night out at the arcade where he had failed epically at every game; she didn't have Dick reassuring her that everything would be okay, even when the world was telling them otherwise.
Dick was gone, and that was something Y/N had never expected to deal with.
'Wonderess.'
Y/N wiped her tears away before she turned to see who had called her. It was Kaldur, and based on his sympathetic expression, she knew he had heard everything.
'Batman and the rest of the Justice League wants to speak with us all,' he said.
'Right,' Y/N said, composing herself before walking over to join her friend.
Dick was gone, but she was still an integral part of Young Justice, and they needed her more now than ever. Whatever was to come their way now, they had to be strong, a united front.
Even if her heart yearned for someone who had completely abandoned her.
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blackmoonowl · 1 month
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ok but what is something han(d)cock, nick valentine, danse and macCready would only do for you and not for anyone else
Only for you
Things they do for you/let you do and absolutely nobody else.
John Hancock, Nick Valentine, Paladin Danse, Robert MacCready
John Hancock:
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He is far more committed to you than anyone before. Before he met you he wasn't too interested in exclusive relationships, simply sleeping around, but now he doesn't care too much about anyone else that way.
You have the biggest scary dog privilege. People are terrified of Hancock and he uses that reputation to make sure nobody gets too comfortable disrespecting you.
You can thieve his coat, his hat and all that. Just don't damage it. If anything he likes it when you wear his stuff, makes him feel a bit more possessive.
He makes sure people of Goodneighbor like you a lot. Those who don't like you, have probably been threatened into not trying anything to harm you. That, or they mysteriously just go missing. Whitechapel Charlie also gives you free drinks now.
If you're running around Goodneighbor he might ask the Neighborhood watch to keep an eye on you. He doesn't tell you this, but he does it just to be sure. Last thing he wants is to lose you to some jackass who thinks they have the right.
Might begrudgingly cut back on chems and booze a bit if that's what you want. He won't give it up, but he's willing to take a bit less for you.
Nick Valentine:
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Lets you run your fingers over the spots where his 'skin' is missing. He doesn't mind you touching him there, as long as you're careful about it.
You get to hear about all his cases. He often rants to you as he tries to put a case he's stuck on together. You're his shoulder to lean on and he appreciates you hearing him out.
Often buys you things from Diamond city's markets. Not uncommon for him to come home with things he thinks you'll like. He carefully studies your habits, the way your eyes lit up when you saw a specific item the Surplus had. Nick told you he had to stay behind a bit and when he came back, he had that exact item held behind has back as he greeted you.
Talks about you quite often with the Diamond city residents. You quickly found out the people within the settlements were a lot nicer to you, even if they questioned why any sane person would be with a synth.
Like a mom, he has a knack for finding random items you lose. You tell him you've been looking for your pistol for literal days and he just pulls it out from under your bed as if it's nothing.
Writes down important dates, anniversaries and whatever else is important to you so he doesn't forget. Part of his wall is just full with random notes about things he doesn't wanna forget about your relationship.
Paladin Danse:
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Smiles a whole lot more for you. He cracks smiles more often when you're around, and he seems to get a bit more comfortable with his newfound emotions.
talks to you about how he's doing. His fears, insecurities, how he struggles with his new identity as a synth. He trusts you to reassure him, to make him feel like he's someone after he lost it all.
You're the only person he trusts with his power armor, along with his weapons. You could utilize any of it and he wouldn't really bat an eye anymore, even if he's hesitant at first.
Would actually tolerate synths and ghouls for your sake. He still dislikes them, but he'd be a bit more polite if you were fond of them. He would also feel kind of bad if you scolded him about his prejudice.
He kind of acts like a body guard when it comes to you. He has no issue putting his life on the line to protect yours. Also, he secretly believes your life is worth more than him, as he's just a synth, though he won't say it willingly.
Has actually done some repairs to your weapons and any power armor you have. Last thing he wants is for you to meet your end because you got sloppy with your equipment.
Robert Joseph MacCready:
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Absolute biggest defender when it comes to you. You punched someone square in the face? They probably had it coming anyway. Maybe they shouldn't have pissed you off.
Would take a bullet for you, quite literally. He lost Lucy, he would rather die protecting you than be the one burying you. For all his talk of surviving, he's determined to die before you do.
You're the only person he gives things to. He is used to hogging things for himself out of self preservation, but you'd get his left kidney if you asked.
Overall you can get away with a lot more. MacCready isn't exactly the most morally upright person, and he doesn't like when you're nice or generous, but you, you get a pass. He doesn't get as annoyed if you're too generous.
Such a sap around you too. If he's comfortable and you're alone, you get a very soft MacCready. He'll tell you whatever's on his mind as he's snuggled up at your side.
You are the only person he trusts with Duncan. He feels at ease leaving his son with you, like he doesn't have to worry about anything going wrong. He loves you spending time with the little guy.
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valliesworld · 2 years
Text
You Mean Something
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masterlist
simon “ghost” riley x reader, mentions of other task force 141 members
genre: angst
warnings; she/her pronouns, mature content, standard call of duty violence, cursing, kidnapping, mentions of self harm and suicide, mentions of torture, starvation
synopsis; after a failed mission that left you in the hands of the enemy, you finally realise how much Ghost cares for you
Distractions came easy to you, even if you tried your hardest to stay focused, to stay alive and awake, your mind still thought of him while you were being subjected to such torture. You think about his eyes a lot, how in his eyes his his humanity was shown, the person he really was. There were times it got lost, when he would that mask and military vest, when he would become the man the army demanded of him. But you saw it in his eyes that day in the sunshine, waiting for the cadets to finish training. You saw the humour that burned there too, the sort that stays for an eternity. There was something in his spirit that danced when he trains, like a fire giving just the right amount of warmth. You have seen it die too, the flames almost extinguished, when he was under the gun of guilt, shame and fear after a particularly hard mission. You know that isn't him, not the real version, the person you’ve grown to love with everything that is yourself. That's why you had to see his eyes before you go, to see the real him before you decided to give up and let death win. You wanted him to see you too, the girl who messes up, but would do anything in her power to keep him and the squad safe, to keep him emotionally healthy, no matter how deep his scars go. So when you think of him, you see a cheeky man who made cadets run laps til they turned green and hope to god he thinks of the vulnerable version of you, the one beneath the soldier.
In moments of silence, when your captors would leave you be, you would remembered the last conversation you had with your family. She had wished you well with tears in her eyes, making you promise you’d come back to her. Your father had been busting himself with house work, refusing to acknowledge that his youngest child was off to another suicide mission, just like he always did before you left. You had kissed your mother on the cheek as a goodbye, not promising a thing but granting her a smile, just in case that was the last time she’d ever see you again. Death wasn’t scary for you, you had accepted that you would die young, in your line of work death was not something that could be prevented, no matter how hard you might try. What did scare you though, was your nieces and nephews growing up without you, only seeing you in photos, it was your mother and father having to bury their youngest, it was your older brother and sister living without you. Death didn’t scare you, but the impact of yours on your family did.
You didn't know how long you had been held captive for, it could have been weeks, months, even years, at that point. What you did know was that the starvation they subjected you to as one last punishment had began to take it's toll on your body, your weight had dropped rapidly, leaving those metal cuffs loose around your wrists and ankles. At first it had been small strands of hair falling out from stress, then slowly it became more and more til you were left with thin strands to cover your head. Your body was always shivering, cold to touch, and you didn't know whether it was because you were forced to sleep on freezing concrete or if hypothermia was beginning. to settle within your bones.
Makarov had captured you for one thing, he had seen potential in you, wanted you on his side, and the only way he believed he could do that was if he broke you down into nothing, just to rebuild you as the soldier he always desired. He had watched from afar as you had taken down men three times your size, as you cleared bases by yourself, and how you lived up to your callsign. He knew you were young, younger than the other task force members, and with being young came being naive and impressionable, Makarov wanted to use those attributes and swing them to his favour.
In some of your exhausted delusions, you dreamt of your team, of your family. You had dreamt of your first Christmas with the task force, how you had sat in your room with the computer screen on, talking and listening to your family on the other line, wishing to be back home and apart of their celebrations, that was, until Gaz barged into your room and dragging you out for a Christmas surprise with your chosen family. You had dreamt of the day you accepted death, how you leant up against that brick wall, the rain pouring from above and mixing with your blood; red water sweeping the street. You had accepted your fate that afternoon, dying alone, until you knight in a shining skull mask whisked you off your feet and to survival. You dreamt of the day your nephew was born, how his tiny hands wrapped around your finger, chosing you to be his favourite person in that moment. You dreamt of many things, but one always kept returning. The delusion that Ghost would save you one last time.
"Fear is part of being human, Redback, it's the precursor to bravery. We need it, it wakes us up to what needs to be done. So feel it, own it, let it ignite your thoughts," Gaz's words echo in your mind constantly, they were one of the first words he ever spoke to you, and they resonated with her throughout her short years with the task force. They kept you alive at that point, they told you no matter how inhuman you felt, you were still alive, still breathing, still ready to fight.
Your cell was a hollow cube of concrete, one way in, no windows. In there you could have no idea how much time had passed or even if it was night or day. It was totally disorientating by design. Given enough time a person could forget their own name in there, and you were beginning to. The isolation was total and the stimulation was zero. No sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind.
You could hear the sound of feet slamming against concrete, though your eyes never opened, refusing to see what was coming to torment you that time. They had stripped you of everything, they took your weapons, and your dignity. They had left you to rot in the cell in cotton underwear and a white undershirt, though both items were caked in dirt, grim, and stained with your own blood.
The sound of keys jingling had caught your attention, and when you opened your eyes you kept your gaze away from the intruder. Instead, you found the bruises and dried blood on your ankles far more interesting. The person had unlocked your hands first, fumbling with the keys as if he were nervous, as if something had gone wrong, and that had been his first mistake. When your hands were greeted freedom, you finally looked over at the man, your knife, the one they had stolen from you, sat perched on his hip. They had stolen your gear just to use it against you, and that fact gave you more motivation than anything previously, you wanted your things back.
Without a second of hesitation, your hands wrapped around the knife, plucking it from his tactical belt, your tactical belt, and plunged it into his thigh. He cried out in pain, something you never gave them the satisfaction of hearing, as he doubled over from the fiery sensation in his leg you pulled the knife out again and plunged it into his neck, blood that was not yours finally coating your body again. As you let out all your frustration on the man, pulling the knife out just to slam it back in over and over again, you began to register the sound of gunfire, the sound of Russian shouting, and the feeling of panic the base you were trapped within was beginning to feel.
Once you were positive the man below you was dead, you began stripping him as they had once stripped you. You took the keys from his cold, dead hands, and unlocked your feet from the shackles, your ankles screaming in relief. You then took his clothing, albeit they were far too large for you, they were better than what you had been forced to stay in for your time as a prisoner. Tightening the pants around your waist with your belt, you felt somewhat okay, you didn't feel helpless or hopeless, you felt determined, determined to get out of there yourself, since there would be no rescue party for you.
Gripping onto the rifle, one that wasn't yours originally, you began your escape. As you made your way through the base, leaving a trail of bodies behind you, you felt like yourself again, you felt like the soldier once were. You had reminded yourself of things that were facts; you were one of the youngest ever recorded female members to join the SAS, you were an accomplished soldier, a sergeant before your twenty first birthday, you were a force to be reckoned with; those facts kept you motivated throughout your escape, you were all those things, and more, and you could get yourself out of any situation.
Sticking to the shadows, you took down over twenty soldiers, cornering them til they were alone, and that tactic had worked well enough, til your luck ran out. The corner you took was one of bad judgement, over fifteen men resided there, all on high alert for your whereabouts, and with no shadows to conceal yourself, you had no other option but to simply turn back around, though when you did so, you found yourself face with thirty other men, ready to pounce. Weighing your options, you knew that to surrender was your only choice, if you wanted to stay alive. Letting the rifle hang from your shoulder, you held your hands up, defeat running thick through your veins.
They didn't make a move though, not one soldier stood out of line, all of them waiting for you to make the first move, to do something unpredictable, until he sauntered out of the crowd. Makarov's second in charge, Yuri, grinned like a mad man as he gripped you roughly, pulling you in the direction of another room and dismissing the men on guard. You were no longer deemed as a threat as he led you into the room, far nicer than the cell you had grown accustomed to.
He stripped you of your weapons, though he was not thorough, leaving your bloodied knife within your waistband as he took the rifle and pistol from your body, turning the safety on and throwing them across the room.
"I thought we beat the need to escape out of you," he tsked, hands feeling your body in a way far less appropriate than simply looking for weapons. "But I now see that you have to be broken in a different way to get you to comply with our rules."
Your heart dropped to your stomach as the five other men walked through the door, dragging their bodies with them. Three had a grip on Ghost's sluggish body, and two were struggling against Soap's protests. The men forced Ghost and Soap to their knees, Ghost having to steady himself by placing his hands in front of him to keep him from falling foreword. They had drugged him, most likely using the same one they had used to keep you compliant in the first weeks of your capture.
"Redback?" Ghost questioned softly as he looked towards you, confusion running through his mind.
"These two were found sneaking around our base," Yuri revealed, toying with a piece of your hair as he forced you to look at them. Soap held a look of distraught as he looked over at you, like he had just seen a real ghost, while Ghost's eyes held a look of resentment within them. You weren't sure who the resentment was pointed towards, but you had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't directed at you. "And now you'll watch them die."
Yuri stepped foreword, his own pistol raised, pressing the barrel against Soap's head as he looked back at you. With a clenched jaw, you pulled the knife from your waistband and pressed it against your wrist. The sharpness of it caused a small speck of blood to dribble down your arm and drip to the floor, but despite the sting you kept it in place.
"Makarov wants me, you kill them and I'll die with them," You spoke clearly, despite your voice being hoarse from not speaking for days on end. "How would that look for you? Under your watch, his prized possession dies because you can't do your fucking job right."
Yuri let out a dry chuckle, "so loyal," he commented, looking towards the men knelt before him, "and where are your pleas? When she was taken from you, you left her. Maybe you two would rather her blood spill to cover your sins."
"Shut up," You hissed, their silence to his words were deafening, a heartbreaking scene as Ghost looked anywhere but at you.
"I want you to memorise this moment, they weren't here to rescue you," Yuri growled, "They were completing another mission, and you so happen to be here as well."
Ghost's eyes, despite hooded with the effects of the drug, widened slightly, struggling even harder against the three men that held him in place. Soap on the other hand, used the distraction as an ample time to escape. Taking the gun from Yuri, Soap pointed it towards the men holding him down and left off two shots, killing them quickly. You had taken this opportunity to throw the knife, watching with a sickening smile as it lodged itself into Yuri's chest. Ghost, regardless of being under the influence of a drug, took down two of the men holding him hostage while Soap let off another shot into the final man.
Ignoring the two men, you walked over towards Yuri, watching as he spluttered out in pain. Hovering over him, you crouched down, twisting the knife deeper into his chest. Pulling it out, you relished in the pool of blood that began to form.
"I want you to memorise this moment," You repeated his words to him as you dragged the bloodied knife down his cheek, smearing his own blood on his face, "that nobody is here to rescue you." and with that, you plunged the knife up through his bottom jaw.
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Months had come and gone, and you had not spoken a word to anyone on Task Force 141 since you had been brought back to the. safety of your base. The wounds, the injuries to your flesh would heal long before you're able to heal your brain. You had gone through a lot, many scars now littered your body, your ankles and wrists having a permanent red line from the rubbing of your shackles, and your mind was in shambles. Laswell had told you that they hadn't looked for you once, that they assumed you were dead and had even informed your family of you being killed in action. You felt almost betrayed that they didn't even bother to look for you, that the mission was more important to them, to Ghost, than to see you still breathing.
The doctors had gotten you healthy again, gave you the fluids and sustenance you had been deprived on before setting you up with a physiotherapist. That man had retaught you how to do simple tasks, explaining to you that the only reason you were capable of such things during your escape was because of the adrenaline coursing through your veins. It had taken you four months to get back to doing things on your own, and an additional three months before you were back to your usual abilities, and still within all that time, you refused to look at the men that had left you in the hands of the enemy. They had offered you leave, to go home and spend time with family, but if the mission was as important as leaving behind a team member, it only made sense to stay and complete it before gifting yourself with seeing your parents relieved faces.
The gym was quiet at three am, sleep no longer a need for you as it only plagued your mind with unwanted memories. The sound of your knuckles coming in contact with the rubber punching bag silenced your mind, created an inner peace within you as you assaulted the equipment. Nobody else resided inside as you continued to push your abilities, seeing just how long you could do this before getting tired. You used to be able to go for hours, but now, it seemed that you could only do half of that.
Your inner peace was quickly ruined by the sound of heavy footsteps, and before you could even register what was happening, his hands wrapped around your waist and pushed you against the closest wall. He turned you to face him, the hard skull plate from his mask was gone, his balaclava the only thing separating them from each other. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were hooded from lack of sleep, the black war paint he usually sported was not there, leaving his expressions easier to read.
"You never threaten to kill yourself to save me again," His voice was rough, reminding you of a hot long black in the early of the morning, bitter and abrasive, burning your tongue. "I'd rather get shot ten times over than ever see you do that again."
Scoffing, you looked at him with a frown, "A few months too late for this revelation, Lieutenant."
"I don't care," He huffed, grip on your waist loosening, "You don't get to do that shit, not anymore."
"And you don't get too care, why do you even care? Huh?" You spluttered out, words dripping with venom, "You left me there to die, Laswell told me everything, told me how you all didn't even give me a second thought, told my fucking family I was dead."
"I watched you die," He growled out, "I watched as that bullet went through your chest, as you fell to the ground."
"And you didn't think to check? The mission that important to you that you can't go over to a wounded soldier and check if their heart is still beating?" You all but screamed at him, if you were anyone else, your yelling at a superior would go severly punished, "I was wearing a fucking chest plate, you saw me put it on, you checked I had it on before we started that fucking mission, and you still left me for dead."
"You don't think I don't remember that now?" He yelled back. at you, voice booming throughout the gym, "You don't think I wasn't awake every night wondering about you? Thinking of things I could have done differently? I completed that mission and went back for you, you were gone."
"Why do you care so much?" You hissed at him, "The first time we met you told me that I'd be another dead body at the edge of your boot because you didn't think I was good enough, why care now?"
"Because you mean something to me," He revealed, though his words were sweet his tone wasn't, it was like he resented the fact that you meant something to him, "you mean more to me every single day, that's why I care."
4K notes · View notes
ennabear · 9 months
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abby x gymrat!reader 🤗
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MDNI
*ੈ you guys are the scariest bitches in the room. imagine two of the most muscular people you’ve ever seen. and they’re dating. double rbf’s, double strength, double trouble!!!!
*ੈ abby and you always have to go to the gym at different times. if you do go at the same time, one of two things will happen. 1) you guys end up totally distracted and turned on, leaving early to go home and fuck it out. or 2) it turns into a competition of who can lift more, ending in you both getting kicked out and sore the next day.
*ੈ being strong enough to pick her up. :((( abby falling asleep on the couch so you pick her up bridal style and carry her to bed!!! brb gonna sob!!
*ੈ innocent pillow fights that turn into full on wrestling. you guys are on top of each other on the most uncomfortable and awkward positions fighting to pin the other to the ground for more than 5 seconds.
*ੈ adding to the last one,,,, arm wresting that lasts for like 10 minutes because neither of you are weak enough to lose. both of your muscles are bulging out of your arms but your hands stay right in the middle of the two of you.
*ੈ you don’t buy clothes for yourself anymore, you buy them for the two of you. once you moved in and the laundry got mixed together for the first time, it was game over. although, she prefers wearing the clothes that you just wore because they still smell like you. what a sweetie!!
*ੈ nobody dares to flirt with her in public because they get scared off once they see her equally intimidating girlfriend a few feet behind her. you guys are two big scary guard dogs who protect each other.
*ੈ doing hip thrusts with her on your lap and vice versa. she’s blushing because she’s so charmed by you. and her eyes are locked onto your arm muscles that are still glistening with sweat.
*ੈ BATTLING for dominance. like physically pushing her down onto the bed because now it’s your turn to top. and this happens every time!!! neither of you are willing to give up your position as dom so instead you have to fight for it.
*ੈ you two probably both walk around pretty much naked when you’re home alone. what’s the point in wearing outside clothes when you and your hot gf both have perfectly sculpted muscles??
*ੈ massages are frequent for the two of you. it’s not rare that you end up sore after upping your lifts just a little. but abby’s hands are so gentle and soft and they make whatever pain go away.
*ੈ don’t even get me started on YOU massaging her. she falls asleep almost instantly. being in her nice warm bed with the love of her life soothing her sore muscles. she just feels so safe and in love with you, can you blame her?
*ੈ you guys buy so much protein powder and so many protein bars. she’d try all of those energy shots with you, even the ones with raw egg. no matter how bad it tasted, she’s glad that you had to suffer with her. <33
*ੈ sooooo much gym equipment in your house/apartment. weights everywhere, and those little pull up bars that go in the door way!!!
*ੈ the post workout pics go crazy!!!!! abby single-handedly ruining your life by sending you a picture of her, completely shirtless, muscles bulging, and with her hair down, slightly wavy from her braid. crazy!!!!!! you best believe she’s getting pinned to the bed the second she gets home.
*ੈ you sending her a post workout pic, your muscles are sweaty and you’re genuinely exhausted, but the bulge of your strap underneath your sweatpants is enough to get abby to beg and give up topping for just one night.
*ੈ and being able to fuck her four hourssss!!!!! absolutely destroying her with your strap and not even getting tired because you have the most insane stamina. and you’ll make her take it, overstimulating her until she’s crying and begging!!!!
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himehomu · 11 months
Text
With Walpurgisnacht Rising coming in 2024, I want to talk about something that has been bothering me since Rebellion. It was never the “plot twist” of Homura separating Madoka from her godhood nor her taking those godlike powers for herself thus becoming the devil. It was always people's reactions to Homura doing this and the way they based her entire character around this specific moment that really rubbed me the wrong way. Saying she's a selfish monster who's trapping Madoka in a fake world for her own personal gain or that she's taking Madoka's agency away from her and making decisions for her that directly rebel against what Madoka wants... And, to that, I just want to know.... do literally any of you know what Madoka actually wants or are you just basing her character around her sacrifice?
Yes, it was for the benefit of all Magical Girls and yes it freed them from their cycle of selling their souls in the name of hope just to die at the hands of their own grief and despair, but Madoka didn't plan to abruptly cease to exist at the cost of it?? She didn't want to be stuck between life and death only existing as a deity meant to eradicate Witches for all of time. Madoka wished to erase Witches before they are born from the past, present, and future. Going back years upon years in time, destroying Witches and mercy killing Magical Girls; fighting forever, past and future, for all time. Ceasing to exist as an individual, only able to materialize and interact with someone when they're dying of grief and sadness and pain; relieving them of that pain so that their last moments won't be in agony, so they can die in peace, but there's none of that for Madoka. There's no death, no closure, no release, no freedom from this hell of being a weapon and nothing more.
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But, Madoka would never voice these struggles and frustrations. Because Madoka isn't that kind of girl. She's the kind of girl who shoves all of her problems down and bases all of her self worth on how much she can do for others, how happy she can make others, and how useful she can be. She forces a smile and masks her pain because she doesn't want to burden anyone with her problems. She puts herself down constantly, risking her life trying to help others because she cares so little for herself. Without being useful, she believes her life has no value. And Homura knows this. Because Homura knows her. I feel like most people take Madoka's bright pink colors and smile at face value and don't realize she's chronically depressed. That's why in the first timeline, she and Homura naturally got along so well: they were both girls who hated themselves and based their self worth on how they made others around them feel, both self-loathing girls who deem themselves worthless if they're not useful in some way. Madoka was just better at hiding it than Homura was. And she still is by the 100th loop.
But, in Rebellion, when her memories of being a god are taken away from her, and she's given a hypothetical scenario of her fate, she says "wow that sounds awful and scary and lonely and I would never do something like that." The Flower Field scene is one of the most brilliant and misunderstood scenes in all of anime. Majority still to this day argue that, since Madoka doesn't have her memories, her words hold little to no weight, and Homura is simply hearing what she wants to hear. So, naturally, they disregard what Madoka is saying, assuming it's just Homura being selfish. And that's where they mess up. Because, the fact that Madoka doesn't have her memories here is the whole point! Homura is already well-aware that if Madoka had her memories, her self loathing would result in her caring so little for herself that she sacrifices herself every time which is why immediately after Madoka's words, she assures Madoka that she is indeed "strong enough to make that decision." Homura just wanted to confirm if Madoka would still miss her life pre-godhood in spite of that, which she outright says she does.
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There are also arguments that Homura was somehow influencing Madoka in the labyrinth aside from just not remembering becoming a god, but Shinbou already stated in an interview that this wasn't the case, and that these were Madoka's honest words. In fact, Madoka's true feelings regarding her godhood are revealed for the first time within the lyrics of Madoka's character song (sung by her VA Aoi Yuuki) that played as the ep 1-2 ED titled “Mata Ashita”. The song is about Madoka post-series which consists of Madoka wandering around aimlessly, quietly observing as humanity resumes without her, lamenting on the life she lost after becoming a god and wishing she could have been more honest about her feelings to Homura in ep 12, asking her to realize she's lonely.
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[I'm pretending that I'm used to being alone, but I'm not really that strong.
The scenery is the same as always, the city is the same as always.
Even though I think everything will stay unchanged.
I still feel like I'm the only one who's tiny. Instead of "See you later."
I should've said, "I'll stay for a little longer."
I wanted and hoped that you would realize it.
But with the words "See you later,"
I lie to myself again.
And hide my true feelings beneath my usual smile. Saying, "See you later," I wave my hand.
Cracking a smile, yet I'm feeling lonely.
The truth is, I still have more to talk about.
But even my voice saying, "See you later"
is so near yet far from you that it can't reach you.
So let me say this like I always do, just once more: "See you tomorrow"]
This is definitive proof that even BEFORE Rebellion, this was already confirmed to be Madoka's true feelings.
The second time Madoka's true feelings post-godhood are adressed is via Madoka and Homura's concept movie quotes explaining that the God (Madoka) is clearly suffering in her “heaven”, which is more like a prison of isolation. The lizard girl (Homura) takes pity on her and separates her humanity from her godhood, thus making her human once more. Here are also some direct quotes from Magia Record which provides even more context for what Madokami is experiencing:
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All of this, with the addition of Madoka's words in the Flower Field scene being confirmed to be her real and honest feelings, puts the whole “pulling madokami down from heaven” scene into a different perspective. Considering the entire reason why Madoka even became powerful enough to become God in the first place was because Homura's 100+ time loops linked multiple parallel universes together with Madoka at their center, and it's confirmed Madoka was suffering as a god, I would think people would be happy to see Homura reverting Madoka back to a human being and rewriting the entire universe to be a world where Madoka is happy and free, surrounded by her friends and family???
The fact that Homura's love for Madoka was so strong throughout 12 years of 100+ time loops, it turned Madoka into a goddess but when Homura was able to see just how isolating and lonely godhood was for her, she took her godlike powers for herself because she loved her and was willing to take on the exhaustion and isolation of immortality as the devil to spare her of anymore pain and sadness. Homura freed Madoka from a nonexistential purgatory prison and a decade later she's still demonized for it, how insane is that??
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theabigailthorn · 10 months
Note
Hey I’ve been a fan for a little while now, and I just wanted to say that you’ve been an inspiration for me, a younger transfemme. But I do wanna also ask: what’s it like being a trans woman with her life together? I’m 19 (as of sending), been on hrt for almost 5 months, and have been trans for a year and change. But I’m scared. So, I guess, I wanted to ask: does being trans ever become the norm, my baseline? What’s it like after 2-3 years? And does it get any less confusing or scary?
I think there are a few things going on here.
I don't have my life together as much as it might seem; I just don't show you all the ways it's not. I don't talk publicly about the auditions I don't get, or the things I try and fail at, or the insecurities in my own head that hold me back sometimes, or the handful of decisions I've made that were bad calls and which still keep me up occasionally. I've talked about trauma and mental illness in the past, but I only ever discuss stuff I'm comfortably over - when I'm overwhelmed or in the middle of a crisis I don't post about it. I don't set out to deceive you by presenting myself that way, I just keep my most private stuff private. Everybody has failures and regrets and insecurities: "it's a sign of having lived," as my friend Phoebe told me today. But you see a curated version of me that appears not only more together than the real person, but more together than any real person.
Also, if you're 19 a lot of your life hasn't been in your control until pretty recently and a lot of it still might not be. I'd say it's okay to not feel like you have it all together. You just transitioned, which I think is one of the hardest things a human being can do: you can give yourself credit for that even if you feel like you're not settled into it yet. Congratulations!
As for it becoming the baseline, I mean yeah? Kinda? At least for me. Sometimes I forget. I had a moment today in the gym where I saw a man and I was like "Oh yeah, I used to be one of them, sortof? Weird!" The first year is the hardest, or so they say. I wouldn't say I get less confused or scared now, just scared and confused in different ways. I worry less about getting attacked in the street than I did in my first year, for example. (I'm lucky and privileged in that regard.) But I worry a lot more about other people. I struggle a lot with survivor's guilt, which is something only people who survive get! Anyone who's had a drink with me in the last six months has heard me beat myself up because the night of The Prince premiere in New York was the night of Brianna Taylor's vigil in the UK. That wasn't a deliberate decision - the premiere was booked and paid for months before she was even killed - but I've become a lot more sensitive to those sorts of feelings precisely because I spend less time worrying about myself. I'm more aware now of what my transness means for other people. Like, I made an ironic joke when I came out that I'd become The Transgender Princess of TERF Island, and it's kindof haunted me since - I didn't set out to become "a famous trans person" but it's happened a little bit and it's going to happen a lot more next year. That comes with serious responsibilities and a few mild drawbacks, as well as perks, obviously. So I guess that's a longwinded way of saying I might be a weird person to ask this question because, at least for right now, my transness, my whole self, doesn't just belong to me.
Oh also, some great advice I got from my friends: Paris: "Only change the things that bother you on your good days," and Mattie: "Don't believe anything you think about your life after 9pm."
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runningfrom2am · 9 months
Text
leveling the playing field XVI
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summary: you can finally go home.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.4k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do.). implications and mentions of abuse and some non-graphic violence, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation.
a/n: i can't believe this is it :') the final part (excluding the epilogue which is coming v soon). thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!
series masterlist // playlist
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"Y/N/N. Do you have your clothes from home?" Coryo asks, pulling the boat back up onto the shore. The guns were gone. He's free to go home if he wants.
"Yes." You nod. "I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted." You chuckle, looking up into the woods behind the cabin, hoping Sejanus is long gone by now.
"Okay. You're gonna stay here, just for a few days, and then I'll come get you before the train leaves. I'll take you to Two with me, just wear those. You'll fit in better."
"Okay..." You nod, nervous about being out here all alone for so long.
"I'll come bring you food as much as I can." He knew it would be a long hike each way to come see you, but he would have to carve out the time. He looks up at you quickly from digging through his own bag when he hears you sniffle. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"I- uhm..." You clear your throat, fanning your eyes to keep any tears from falling. "I'm just scared." You try and laugh it off, shaking your head slightly.
"Don't be scared." Coryo shakes his head, dropping the bag to grab your shoulders. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, Darling, but we don't have another choice. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"I know, I know that..." You sniff, looking up at him. "Is she dead?"
"Yes." He answers quickly. "I buried her. She can't hurt you." He promises. Was that true? No, definitely not. There was no trace of her after the shot besides her earring on the ground,  but he had hit her. He was sure of it. There was no reason to tell you that, though, just to scare you more. You couldn't go back to town, there was nowhere for you to hide while peacekeepers searched every inch of the populated part of the District for days while he waited for his train.
"Okay." You whisper, taking a deep, shakey breath as you look around at the suddenly scary forested area around you. The rain had started to clear up, which helped with the sun peeking through the clouds to brighten up the lake. If Lucy Gray hadn't ruined everything, you would probably be getting ready to keep moving.
"Just, try to relax out here. Okay? Go for a swim, just enjoy the fresh air." He smiles softly, brushing some hair back out of your face as he tries to make you feel better.
"I've had enough of the woods for the rest of my life." You scoff, shaking your head under his hold.
"I know, Y/N/N, I'm sorry. It's only a few days. Like I said, I'll come back for you whenever I'm free." Even if he could only stay for five minutes before he had to turn around and make the trip back to town, he would do it. "Then we'll figure everything out. I'll handle it."
"I... I just want to go home, but I can't." You cry, letting him wipe your tears as your chest flushes with the emotion.
Coryo winces at your tears. He hates seeing you cry, and he has seen it far more times than he would have liked to in the last few months. "I'm going to figure it out. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise." He says softly, trying to get you to look at him.
You lean into his palm, closing your eyes as you try desperately to pull it together. You were exhausted, but this was the last thing Coryo needed right now. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a moment."
"I know. You're okay." He chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you into a hug, rocking your body gently back and forth. "You know, I think the last time you said that to me was the day I realized I was in love with you." He hums, squeezing your shoulders gently.
You laugh, which makes him smile. It's what he wanted. "I feel like that's a bit dramatic."
"No, it's true." He grins, craning his neck to look down at you. "You defended me, and you listened to me, and you looked just so pretty doing it..."
You bury your face in his shirt to hide your blush.
"You're always on my team, and I appreciate that. I really do." He explains, satisfied that he's made you feel at least a little better. "I hope you know I'm always on your side, too."
You nod slightly, smiling through your tears as you look up at him. "I know."
"Good." Coryo whispers, kissing your nose. "I love you."
"Really?" You whisper, eyes lighting up as you wring your hands together against his chest in front of you. "You're not just saying that because I'm crying on you?" You laugh slightly.
"No, I do." He nods in confirmation, grinning down at you in admiration. "There's no one else in this world I can trust as much as I can trust you."
"Then why'd you give her your scarf?" You ask, tilting your head. "It looked... valuable."
"It was. It belonged to my mother..." He says solemnly. He suddenly shakes his head, mocking your expression as he changes the tone. "You really were dead to the world, huh? I was holding it, and she just asked if she could see it. Then she didn't give it back." Coryo explains, raising an eyebrow at you. "Why, are you jealous of the dead girl?"
You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, attempting to shove him away.
"Hey, I'm kidding." He laughs, pulling you close again by your wrists. "Don't you trust me?"
"Okay, yes, I trust you." You giggle as he drops your wrists, sliding his hands over your waist.
"And you love me?" Coryo asks, urging you on.
"And I love you." You grin, nodding slightly.
"That's my girl..." He hums, running a hand lower down your side, thumb running over your midsection as he leans in to kiss you. He had you right where he wanted you, he'd wanted to say that for ages. Only since he even clued into the fact that the buzz he gets under his skin when he catches you smiling, anyway. Realistically, you were something he had always wanted. Picturing his future over the last few years when he was dragging himself out of bed every morning desperate to arrive to class on time even on an empty stomach, his daydreams of his success always included your own, as well.
Now, it was only the two of you. He was so right about you, you were perfect in every way. Smart, obedient to him and only to him, but you fought for what you wanted. You knew struggle, pressure, and soul crushing expectations in the same way he did. Through all of it, you were there for him. You were beautiful- and he was the only one smart enough to see past your occasional outbursts. No one knew how to navigate you like he did, and he was lucky that few people ever bothered to try.
The most beautiful girl in all of the Capitol, and you were his. He meant it when he said that he would never let anyone hurt you. He couldn't let anyone take you from him.
"Do you know where we're going? Where Tigris and your Grandma'am are living?" You whisper, curled up next to Coryo on the train as it pulls into the Capitol station. You're holding the orange silk scarf in your hands, using it as a small blanket in the cold train car. You had spent most of your time out by the lake trying to clean it- but dirt was a stubborn stain. You'd have to be more thorough once you had access to cleaning supplies again. You couldn't let such a lovely piece of clothing go to waste, especially when it was so valuable to him.
"I don't..." Coryo mumbles in response, staring out the window as you lean your head against his shoulder, knees tucked up to your chest. "They shouldn't be hard to find, though."
The wheels screech to a slow stop in the familiar city, and you can't help but smile at the endless sea of grey architecture. It wasn't anything like the forest in Twelve, and you loved it. The door slides open and some peacekeepers enter, drawing both of your attention as you sit up away from him.
"Dr. Gaul is expecting you both in her lab immediately." One of them informs you, and you nod a little bit, looking nervously over at your boyfriend.
You hung off his arm for the entire car ride and all the way to the lab as you're escorted by the men in the matching uniform to his own. Your clothes were dirty, despite how many times you cleaned them back in District Twelve. You had cleaned them obsessively throughout the last couple of months, but the water was never quite clear enough to be helpful. It was vile. Surely you smell unpleasant due to this, and you were hoping you would have a shower before confronting anyone from your previous life, but clearly, you weren't so lucky.
"Do I stink?" You whisper, trying to avoid the echo of the large room as your heels click across the linoleum flooring.
"Not any more than I do." Coryo answers, a small smile pulling on his lips as he glances down at you.
You giggle, gently slapping his chest as he removes his hat.
"Congratulations, Mister Snow, Miss Y/L/N. You've passed all my tests." You look up at Dr. Gaul for the first time as she speaks to you, tossing something into a pool on her floor. "I've asked President Ravenstill to grant you both a full pardon, effective immediately."
You don't say anything as you both stop in front of the tank in the ground, staring into it as Coryo revels in the shock. "I also told him that you are too promising to be wasted in the Districts. So you will be studying under me at the Capitol University."
While she speaks, you pull Tigris's coat tighter around yourself at the slimy, vicious look of whatever creatures are splashing around inside that tank that she is continuously feeding.
"We can't afford university." Coryo answers on your behalf, forcing you to look up at the woman across from you. While you were incredibly grateful, you were scared. Things were complicated back at your parents' home, and even with a legal form of forgiveness, it's not likely your father will see it the same way. You couldn't go back, and he wasn't likely to give you a dime or let you go free. Within the week, you'd probably die from an "unknown illness" contracted in the Districts if he found out you were home.
"A certain Mister Strabo Plinth has offered to pay for everything you need while you're there. All for being such good friends to his Sejanus." Dr. Gaul explains and your heart drops in your chest. You can't help but wonder if he's even still alive out there, in the North. "He doesn't know quite how good a friend you were, of course. I never mentioned your little recording. Quite impressive, Mister Snow, how you sent your only friend to the grave just to get my attention."
"That's not what I did." Coryo shakes his head at the allegation.
He squeezes your arm in warning, knowing this topic was a fine line to walk. "Are you sure? Because I think that won you the Plinth Prize, after all."
"Sejanus Plinth is not dead." You blurt out without thinking. She tilts her head at you, looking at you intensely, a knowing smile growing on her lips.
"Oh?" She asks, and internally you struggle for a saving grace while Coryo furrows his brow at you. You hadn't seen Sejanus since you sent him away, but you did try looking for him in your days out there alone. You had to believe he was alive, after you gave him his way out.
"Well, I heard that he had escaped in Twelve. As far as I know, they never found a body. He planned on running off anyway. That's likely what he did." You explain, clearing your throat.
"I agree. That is likely, but the odds he would survive out there..." She shakes her head slightly, dropping another treat into the tank as the creatures snap at it. "Anyway, the president has agreed to another year of the games! People watched, and I have you kids to thank for that."
You and Coryo wear matching grins now, posture perfect to match your collective pride.
"But before I take you under my wing, after everything you've seen out there in the real world, let me ask you one final time." Dr. Gaul says, looking pointedly between the two of you. "What are the Hunger Games for?"
You look up at your boyfriend, nodding for him to answer. "I used to think that the Hunger Games were a punishment for the districts. Then, I thought they served as a warning to us here in the capitol, about the threat the districts posed. Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need the Hunger Games every year to remind us all who we truly are."
"And who are you, do you determine?" Coryo looks down at you as she speaks.
"We are the Victors." You finish with a proud smile, looking at the woman across from you who seems more than pleased with your answer.
"Coriolanus, what are you doing back so soon?" Your mom greets him as she opens the door of your childhood home, smiling sadly, confused as to the condition of his return.
"Good afternoon, Ma'am." He smiles politely, grey uniform cap now clutched to his chest. "I proved to be exceptional in my training. Dr. Gaul saw it was better Y/N and I work under her at the University."
"Y/N?" Your mom gasps, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hand. "She's alive?"
"I assure you, she is safe." Coriolanus nods. "Now, may I speak with your husband? I won't take up much of his time." He brushes past her, entering the home without waiting for permission.
"Well, dear, where is she?" Your mom asks, letting him pass and closing the door quickly. "Why hasn't she come home?"
"I think you know why she hasn't come here." He hums, looking around. "Where is he?"
"His study." Your mom answers quietly, gesturing up the stairs. "I'll walk you."
"No need. I know where I'm going." He gives her a small smile in return, following the familiar path toward your room.
He stops in front of your father's study, knocking before taking a step back. The force of habit leads him to stand at attention while he waits for permission to enter.
"I'm busy, don't bother me." Your father's voice echoes through the ornate lining on the door. Then he realizes, he doesn't need permission. Not anymore.
Coriolanus huffs, opening the door and stepping in.
"I said-" Your father growls, slamming his pen down on the desk before he looks up and takes in the grey of Coriolanus's decorated peacekeeper uniform. "Coriolanus."
"Sir." He nods in response, closing the door quietly behind himself. "May I sit?" He asks coldly, gesturing to the chair across from him.
"Please." Your father nods, brow furrowed as to what the blonde boy could possibly want, or what he is doing back so soon.
"Y/N isn't here, son." Your father sighs. "She-"
"I know that." Coriolanus interrupts, placing his hat on the desk between them.
"You know where she is." Your father's tone is unsurprised, but questioning.
"I do." He confirms, back straight in the chair. He had always been afraid of your father, but this was built on an admiration. He reminded him of what little he remembered about his own father. This morphed into anger slowly but surely over the last few years, picking up several hints either in your appearance, demeanor, or choice of words which painted an incredibly unflattering picture of who the man sitting in front of him truly was.
Your dad hums in response, eyes locked on the boy. "How was your summer?"
The question catches Coryo off guard, but he puts all his focus into maintaining his poise. He has the upper hand, here, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. "It was good. Certainly an eye-opening experience, the people out there are very... different."
"Then what brought you back so soon?" His neglect to even ask where you were, if you were okay, if you were even alive makes Coryo's blood boil in his veins.
"Dr. Gaul." Coriolanus states, swallowing before he continues. "She granted your daughter and I a full pardon in exchange for taking an internship under her at the university. After all, that is her dream, is it not?"
Your father's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of your name. "It was." He agrees.
"Is." Coriolanus corrects him, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Strabo Plinth has offered to pay our way."
"Of course he has." Your dad chuckles, but not an ounce of humour reaches his eyes. "Self righteous bastard..."
"Seeing as you don't care about her as much as you care about your own reputation, he saw it would be a way to repay her for her loyal friendship to his son. She saved his life twice, after all." Coryo ignores your father's comment, watching as the gears turn in his head, trying to remember the second time.
"I know you think you understand my daughter, Coriolanus, but there are some parts of her you will never know. Not truly." Your father responds coolly. "So, I'm not sure what she has told you, but-"
"But nothing." Coryo cuts him off, leaning back in his seat. "Here is what is going to happen. You will have nothing to do with her, her life, her mistakes, or her decisions any longer. Since, in your own words, you see her as such a burden, I am willing to free you of that."
Your dad grits his teeth together, and it's his turn to lean forward. "Coriolanus Snow, you will not speak to me that way in my own home. Y/N is my daughter, and I shall be involved as I please and I shall do with her what I deem appropriate to consequent her actions."
"No." Coryo replies sternly, standing up abruptly, unabashed by the sound of the chair scraping across the wooden floor as he slams his fist on the desk. "She is eighteen. I  take responsibility for her now, and unless you want to lose everything you and Highbottom have built, you will cut me in on every dime you make. Do you understand?"
Your dad laughs again. "And who will believe you, Coryo? You're just kids. You don't know what you're talking about. Whatever she told you is untrue. Simple as that."
"Would you like a list?" Coryo threatens. "Is that a risk you're willing to take, Y/D/N?"
He sighs, standing up to look eye to eye with him, clearly seething with the disrespectful use of his first name. "She's more trouble for you than it's worth, Son."
"That is my decision to make." Coryo says through gritted teeth.
"Suit yourself." Your dad raises his hands in defeat, careful to not show any fear. Coriolanus could see through it, though. He's won, and he knows it; it was a great deal, if your father was smart enough to see it that way. "How much do you want? Money is nothing to me."
"More than Highbottom gets." Coriolanus requests plainly, grabbing his hat and placing it back over his head. "And you'll pay for our wedding." He adds casually, pushing the discarded chair back into its place. "You'll pay for as many dresses and parties as she wants, every drink, every slice of cake, and every last flower she wishes for exactly how she wishes for it. No compromises, and no surprise appearances from you. Are. We. Clear?" He speaks clearly, intentionally enunciating every word with a trace of venom.
"Crystal." Your father scoffs, taking a drink from the whiskey glass on his desk.
Coriolanus nods, giving him a small smile. "Good. I'll be expecting the money orders every other week." He grins smugly, giving your father a quick bow before heading for the door, stopping as his hand brushes over the handle. "All due respect, Sir, which I deem to be very little, but what you have done to your daughter over all these years is what has made her into the woman you hate. Don't think I was the only one who noticed, and you would deserve every bit of harm we could do to your name. If you ever so much as speak to her again, I will kill you myself."
Coryo glances back at your father's expression only briefly before leaving. He couldn't resist the satisfying look of loathing and anger on the man's face.
The small smile sticks as he walks down the stairs, hearing the crystal glass shatter as it's thrown against the door behind him.
Finally, you were totally even.
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taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney
taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!
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o-sachi · 3 months
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Cowboy, Pirate, or Samurai? pt. 1 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.
ଳ how the blue lock boys respond to, “would you rather be a cowboy, pirate, or samurai?”
ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, reo mikage, kunigami rensuke
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ᯓ Isagi Yoichi - Samurai
Knowing Isagi's love for manga, I have a hunch that he might go for samurai solely because it reminds him of all those shounen manga that he had read before. Isagi is definitely the type of guy to find swords amazing. If he had the money, he'd buy one of those replica katanas that you can display in your room. But, to be fair, he finds all options cool. It's just that the samurai has an allure to him that the others lack. I'm guessing it's their cold and calculating nature which is resemblant of Isagi when he's on the field.
ᯓ Bachira Meguru - Pirate
It’s no surprise that a spontaneous person like Bachira would choose to be a pirate. After all, they do travel far and wide, and have the most amazing expeditions out of all the three. He isn’t as excited about the sword fights or the bounties as he is with exploring new places. I have a feeling he likes swimming and just being around water in general. His favorite animal is a dolphin, so I’m sure that his jaw would drop upon seeing one jumping along with the pirate ship.
ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma - Samurai
Chigiri will probably choose this more so as a last resort. He can't imagine being a pirate because the sea salt air would ruin his hair. Everyday would be a bad hair day and that's a huge no from him. Being a cowboy would mean being under the sun for hours, sweating and letting grime accumulate. He figures that being a samurai would be the safest option. With his speed, he might even be good at wielding a sword.
ᯓ Nagi Seishiro - Cowboy
Much like Chigiri, I think Nagi will choose this as a last resort. Pirates immediately get a no from him because they move around and go to places too much. He can't even fathom trying to get a good snooze on a ship that's constantly wobbling on water. Being a samurai is also a hassle since they have to be swinging their swords around. Picking cowboy seems like the chillest option since he thinks he can just take care of a horse and... nap with it under some shade after going for a very short ride.
ᯓ Baro Shoei - Samurai
One word: discipline. Baro thinks the elegance and esteem carried by the samurai are unparalleled. As a person who strongly believes in structure, Baro feels that he'd fit in the best in the samurai lifestyle unlike the others which are a bit too carefree for his taste. If he were to be in any other shounen, he'd be the type of character to have a strong sense of justice. Baro also looks like the type to be proud of his Japanese heritage, so it comes as no surprise that he's picking this one out of the choices.
ᯓ Reo Mikage - Pirate
He likes treasure. Pirates also like treasure. It was a no-brainer for Reo to go for pirate. The idea of going out on a grand voyage to discover and acquire precious items appeals quite a lot to him. It's literally a canon event and we can't interfere with it. He'd even go as far as to one up other pirates by purposefully finding more gold or finding an object far more valuable than anything anyone else had found. Reo would love to be a pirate king and lead his crew to a cavern of riches.
ᯓ Kunigami Rensuke - Cowboy
If we're talking about pre-wildcard Kunigami, then he's definitely a cowboy archetype. Cowboys are hard working, but carefree. They protect the innocent with their strength much like a hero. Kunigami fits this mold to a T with his strong sense of self and fairness. And, this is just a headcanon of mine, but I think he has a soft spot for animals. He looks like the big scary guy who's actually a lot more wholesome than he lets on. He'd take care of his horse like it's his best buddy. Post-wildcard Kunigami would probably say... ninja because he's edgy.
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[🐟]: adding more characters in the next part~
ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ 。° ⚬ 。 likes and reblogs are appreciated
o-sachi © 2024
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kanonavi · 2 months
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Spoilers for Simulanka Day 3
There's a conversation that I've had with friends from time to time about the fact that the world of Teyvat is, at its core, incredibly kind. Shockingly so, even for most fictional stories that aren't directed towards children. Even though the traveler has faced many antagonists on their journey, the people around them have always banded together to overcome those challenges. Even when people are hurt it's very rare for anyone to die, and many of the antagonists in question aren't pure evil and have their own reasons for taking the actions they take. They may not always operate on the same morality as the traveler or the player, and they might not be "good people", but they still believe that what they have to do is right, or at the very least necessary.
To put it more simply, Genshin is filled with characters that are made to be liked. Not every player will like every character, but very few of them are actively trying to work against you, and even when they do there's still something there to like. Except for like, Il Dottore, but he's likable for how unlikable he is (I have to say that or my Dottore enjoying friend will be sad lmao).
I got to thinking about this when playing the last part of Simulanka because it was a reminder of how, despite the kindness that they've been shown by Teyvat for the past three and a half years, the traveler's morality is still shockingly black and white in many situations.
We see this the most in how they interact with the Fatui. The Fatui, particularly the Harbingers, have cause a lot of damage in the past, but a lot of the grunts are just ordinary people following orders. the commission line in Mondstadt with Viktor, Golden Apple Archipelago 2 and The Chasm come to mind for times when we've interacted with Fatui grunts in a way that really humanizes them and shows that a lot of them really are just people doing a job. Some of them have just been surveyors or low-level guards, but the traveler and Paimon treat them like they're cartoon villains until proven otherwise (and sometimes even after proven otherwise).
The way that they acted towards Simulanka Durin before the party gave him their blessings also seemed to reflect this, especially in comparison to the other party members. Wanderer was obviously the most sympathetic to Durin, since his memories were like looking into a mirror for him, but Nilou, Navia, and Kirara all stepped forward to give Durin their support while the traveler was still showing doubts. They were thinking about how the residents of Simulanka might not forgive Durin, or how his form was too big and scary to coexist with everyone, which was an incredibly unsympathetic outlook even though they were ultimately able to change Durin's form.
It honestly reminds me a lot of how the traveler treated Scaramouche/Wanderer in Inversion of Genesis, like he was a person to be kept the company of only out of necessity as a means to keep him under control, even after Nahida said that she trusted him. Even though something did go wrong at the time, it still showed that the traveler's suspicion and distrust of Scaramouche was strong enough to outweigh their trust of Nahida, despite Nahida having proved herself many times to be wise and worthy of trust in the past. That mistrust and even disdain for him even carried over into when he reappeared with no memories, as the traveler was forcefully adamant that he needed to reclaim his memories and atone, to the point that it seemed like they were being a little bit mean about it.
It's arguable that Scaramouche deserved that treatment, since he was kind of a little shithead who caused a lot of harm in the past, but the traveler was also witness to how deeply he was hurt and manipulated in the past, and therefore would have some kind of understanding of why he turned out the way that he did.
Despite the traveler's usual helpfulness in Simulanka, Nilou, Navia, and Kirara all feel like contrasts to them. Nilou's whimsical outlook and positive mindset allowed her to grasp the magic of creation and even gave her the initiative to try and change Durin's form with magic in the first place. Navia is used to taking care of "the little guy", as it were, through the Spina, and was therefore willing to listen and empathize with the toy people who didn't want to undo the power of prophecy. (With those guys also being called "conservatives" or a "conservative radical" in English, that doesn't really have a good connotation depending on your political leaning, but Navia listened to them anyway). And with Kirara, while I haven't played her little sidequest yet, the description of her outfit described how the little cat burglar stole and returned the emotions of the cats that they hadn't been given when they were created, casting her in the role of someone who can understand the balance that anger, sadness, and pain bring to happiness.
The three of them, as well as the Wanderer, all carry Teyvat's fundamental kindness with them, and it was then coaxed out of the traveler only when all of them had already stepped forward.
It made me wonder if this is some kind of lesson that the traveler has to learn before reuniting with their sibling, that they need to be more willing to put their trust in people, or at least be more understanding of others. While the abyss twin hasn't divulged too much of what they've learned yet, they've made it clear that there are lessons that the traveler needs to learn about the world before they reunite. While that likely has a lot to do with various truths about Celestia and the sky being fake and all that, perhaps they're hoping for their sibling to learn that at least in Teyvat, sometimes people who cause harm to others are simply trying (or have tried and failed and lost hope) to find a path towards co-existing with others.
Since the abyss twin is supposedly born of Teyvat as well, perhaps they've already understood that part of this world from the very beginning and are waiting for their sibling to catch up.
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Grief and relief
Just a few more minutes. That's what Hero told themselves as they stared at the casket in front of them. They hear the camera shutters click behind them. The press that wants to cover this amazing day. All the city officials and important people watching this funeral, trying not to visibly smile from happiness. The whole city is celebrating, because a Villain has died. And a scary one, so extra confetti. It's not like anyone would miss them…
Except Hero. Hero missed them. Yes, they were a Villain, but one with morals. They didn't kill children in the middle of the night. No. No, they went for the sick billionaires that poison the air around poor neighborhoods, because who cared? They were poor. Well, they did. And Hero does. And now the billionaires and corrupt politicians that survived are smiling at their grave. They remember how Hero and Villain would meet up in dark alleys and just talk. About politics, morals, their day,... Hero felt like they could share anything they wanted and Villain would have an answer, a solution, a reason ready for them. They could never admit it to anyone but they really cared for Villain.
It made Hero's stomach turn. They wanted to scream and cry and cuss them out for the scum they are. For hurting so many people. For stealing their money. For polluting their city… For killing Villain.
Hero had no proof but that building didn't collapse by accident. The Agency had just figured out where Villain lived and an hour later the building collapsed. They felt tears prick in the corner of their eyes. They had been asking to go after those corrupt assholes and everytime they got denied. Because they sponsor the Agency. Because of fucking money. Nevermind they were a hero-agency meant to bring justice to criminals…
They fought back the tears. They couldn't cry. Not in front of the press. A hero showing sympathy for a villain? That's called career suicide. But damn it, they wanted to. Not only because they were grieving, but also because they were angry and desperate.
Hero watched as they lowered the casket into the ground and after a last speech, everybody left. They slowly stood up and dragged themselves back to the city. After a few blocks they managed to lose the paparazzi. Where should they go? A bar to drink away their grief? Or a rage room to let out their anger?
All of a sudden a figure stands behind them. Hero whips their head around and gasps. No, this can’t be. “Villain…?” They whisper. Villain smiles. “Did you really believe I would let myself be killed that easily?” Hero can’t hold it in any longer. Tears start to fall on their cheeks and there seems to be something stuck in her throat. They let all their sadness and anger flow out with their tears. Villain was alive!
“Oh, honey…” Villain says softly as they pull Hero close into a hug. Hero continues to sob in Villain’s chest. They can feel Villain rub soft circles on their back. “I'm okay. I'm sorry,” Villain whispers. “You’re an asshole,” Hero manages to say between sobs. “For making me believe that.” Villain huffs a soft laugh. “Yeah, guess I am… I really didn't know you cared that much about me…” Hero looks up at Villain. They have a kind of sad fondness in their eyes.“How did you do it?” Hero asks them. Villain looks around them, searching for witnesses that might hear them. “Let's go to where I'm staying, I can explain there.” they say quickly. The crime fighter nods as the pair starts to walk.
Hero needed more than a rage room after Villain told the entire story
Hi! It has been a while, I know. But I felt like writing again and this just flowed out so I hope you enjoy.
As always, my asks are open for any requests, thoughts or just to say hi.
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hannie-dul-set · 1 year
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CRASH & BURN.
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p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.
note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.
also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff
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for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.
he hasn’t shown up. not even once.
it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.
“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”
cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.
“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”
“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”
nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.
you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.
“hi!” 
you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort  lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.
“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”
the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”
hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.
“what do they want?” 
“how should i know? i’m not them?” 
“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”
“maybe it’s about hoon?”
“no way. that guy’s done for.”
“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”
“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”
“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”
“you do realize they can hear you, right?” 
light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.
“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”
a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!” 
your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.
“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.
“why are you asking about him?”
the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”
they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).
as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.
“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—
“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”
and then he freezes.
sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.
“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze. 
“h—hello. hi.”
sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.
it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?
“oh!”
like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—
“close.”
“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”
“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”
does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.
“sorry—”
“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”
“huh?” 
you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”
“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”
you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet. 
he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.
“...what about...toe-day...”
park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.
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CRASH & BURN.
© hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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trensu · 1 month
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Guess who's baaaaack! It's me, I'm back to writing. My laptop when kaput back in May and I've only recently gotten a replacement. In celebration of this, here's more of stasis in darkness. Enjoy :)
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“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said. 
“Years? But, why would you want–? I’m–I’m no one, Lord.”
“Don’t say that.”
The god’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, yet his words carried a force that made the room tremble. The air became heavy with it. Wayne’s breathing grew haggard under the pressure of the words. Steve tossed out any idea of false privacy and crossed the room in a few steps to kneel at the other side of the bed. He took Wayne’s free hand to anchor him. Wayne didn’t so much as twitch in his direction but his knuckles went white as he gripped Steve’s hand.
“You gave me your spoils and your stories every night. I felt your love in every word you spoke to me. You’re the reason I’ve been able to exist this long. Wayne Munson, you are the most important person in the world to me."
Wayne let out a wordless cry. The hand in Steve's shook. Steve viscerally remembered how it felt to have the god’s attention like that for the first time. He also remembered how guilty the god sounded after he realized the effect he had on mortals. With a slight grimace, Steve discreetly nabbed the Lord of Night's attention. 
"I think that was a little too much," Steve suggested cautiously in a low tone barely audible over Wayne's sobs. "Maybe dial it back a little?"
The Lord of Night nodded abashedly. When he spoke again, the pressure in his speech noticeably lessened though the love in his words remained.
“So, you see, I needed to meet you in person. To thank you.”
The last part made Wayne weep louder. The grip he had on Steve’s hand increased in strength, and Steve was sort of relieved Wayne was an old man because even this frail, his hands were pretty damn strong. If he’d been any younger, Steve would’ve had bruises for sure. The god waited patiently as Wayne collected himself.
“My Lord, y-you–” Wayne gasped as his crying subsided. “I don’t deserve–”
“Wayne, you crazy old man, are you going to argue with your god?” the Lord of Night said in the same teasing tone he used with Steve all those nights in his pilgrimage. Wayne’s eyes widened.
“N-No! I’d never–!”
The god laughed, playful and bright as a star. Wayne halted his protests to stare in awe again. 
“You know, I usually encourage a bit of dissent but this time, I’m putting my foot down. You do deserve this, okay?”
Wayne nodded dazedly. He still watched the god with soft, warm eyes. His hand twitched in Steve’s as if he wanted to reach up to touch the god. Steve loosened his grip to allow it but Wayne didn’t follow through with the motion.
“...you remind me of someone,” Wayne whispered. The Lord of Night tilted his head curiously.
“Do I?” he asked. At Wayne’s nod, he added, “I hope it’s someone good. I know what people say about me these days, and let me tell you, it’s not super flattering. King of Darkness this and monster herder that, blah, blah, mean and scary, blah.”
“I know better than to pay any mind to hearsay,” Wayne replied. "I’ve found that most people are fools, my Lord." 
The Lord of Night laughed again. Wayne looked delighted. 
The rest of the night continued along the same line. The Lord of Night listened eagerly to Wayne’s every word as he reminisced about past heists and recalled fond childhood memories. Steve kept to himself, for the most part, letting the Lord of Night and his last believer bask in each other’s presence. Wayne stayed awake as long as he could but finally fell asleep as dawn approached. The Lord of Night began to fade as the first rays of the morning peeked through the bedroom window.
“Watch over him for me, please?” the Lord of Night asked Steve. “I’ll be back tonight.”
“Of course, Lord,” Steve replied. 
The sun broke past the horizon and the Lord of Night vanished. Steve took the stone from the bedside table. He wrapped it up carefully in cloth before returning it to his satchel. That level of care probably wasn’t necessary considering it was solid stone but it was the only thing they knew would keep the god tethered to this plane so far from his last shrine. Steve was charged with carrying his god's tether and he would not let him down by being careless with it.
It was also the only thing he had been given that belonged to his god. Typically, a holy warrior would be granted a symbol of their faith by a temple priest once a god had accepted the holy warrior’s offered service. Most of the time it would be a simple pendant or bracelet with a god’s sigil; a mass produced thing any follower could obtain, the only difference being that a holy warrior’s token would carry a particular blessing from the high priest. A holy warrior would carry that as a sign of their commitment until they’ve earned a more prestigious item to replace it during their years of service.
Steve’s journey so far has been as atypical as it could get. Most warriors traveled to their god's grandest temple. They recited that god's specific prayer for a holy warrior's offering, witnessed by a high priest who would then reveal whether the offering was accepted. Steve's god had no official prayers of any sort, much less temples or clergy. Steve's god couldn't really remember his own symbol aside from a vague outline of it; not nearly enough for it to be inscribed on even the simplest of tokens. 
Regardless, Steve wouldn't trade his experience for anything. Most holy warriors toiled for years, even decades, before getting a chance to meet their god. Steve met his god nearly at the beginning though he hadn't known it at the time. He'd been able to see him and speak to him. Steve’s humble offering of servitude had been accepted directly by his god rather than by priestly proxy. So what if his god wasn't able to grant him a token for his pledge? His presence was a privilege Steve would take over any boon.
It was a sentiment Steve knew Wayne understood. Steve scooted his chair closer to the bed where the old man lay sleeping. He wrapped a hand around Wayne's wrist to track his weak pulse, and settled in for his vigil.
Steve woke Wayne a handful of times to make sure he drank some water or ate some of the vegetable soup Steve had thrown together using whatever he’d picked from the garden the day before. They chatted for a while; Wayne telling Steve about his life before age and sickness caught up to him. Eventually, Steve was able to coax him back to sleep when it became obvious his energy was fading.
At some point in the day, Wayne’s temperature began to rise. Nothing worrisome yet, but dread trickled into Steve’s veins regardless. The old man had been fighting whatever ailed him for a while now. If a fever overcame him, Steve doubted Wayne would survive it.
When the Lord of Night appeared alongside the fading sunset, he seemed as worried as Steve. Wayne sat in bed, propped up by pillows Steve had strategically placed. His eyes were rheumy but steady.
“You’ve seen the Door already, haven’t you?” the Lord of Night asked Wayne dejectedly.
Wayne’s gaze strayed from the god. He glanced at the corner opposite of the bedroom door. His hands shook as he tried to point that direction. Steve didn't see any door there. The god took Wayne's hand between his own, tangible to his last believer even as he appeared more translucent than the night before.
“It showed up earlier today,” Wayne whispered. The god nodded.
“You don’t have to answer yet, but soon. Once you go through the Door, you’ll be in Death's domain. No god is allowed to enter there besides him. I would have lost my chance to meet you if we’d been delayed any longer.”
“Good thing you have Ser Steve. He got you here real quick from what he told me,” Wayne said with a crooked smile.
“Has he been talking himself up?” the god asked amusedly. “Trying to impress the boss?”
“It’s my first quest,” Steve butted in with mild exasperation borne of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Wayne to mention him at all during his communion with the Lord of Night. “I have to make a good impression.”
“To make up for the first impression, huh?” the Lord of Night teased. 
Oh no, Steve thought when he caught Wayne’s curious look. He wanted to hide his face in his hands. That would be childish. Steve was a man so he was above that, unfortunately.
“Wayne,” the Lord of Night said with palpable mischief. “In exchange for all the stories you’ve given me these many years, what if I told you how I got my very first holy warrior?”
“I didn’t know better,” Steve groaned weakly in an effort to stop the story before it began in earnest. The Lord of Night made a shushing motion in his direction. 
“It would be a privilege, Lord,” Wayne said with matching mischief.
“Settle in, my loyal follower, and listen closely,” the Lord of Night began with exuberance. “I call this tale The Trial of Nine Nights.”
The rest of the night, the god recounted Steve’s pilgrimage. The way he told it painted Steve as some sort of gallant hero. It was suspenseful and whimsical. It didn’t sound like Steve’s experience at all. Yet every word was true, told with a flair that Steve himself would never have imagined. Wayne had hung on his god’s every word, despite the sporadic interruptions caused by coughing fits.
“The way you tell stories…” Wayne said faintly between coughs as the story wound to an end. “You…really do remind me of…someone. My little starmaker*. He was…” His voice trailed off weakly as he tried to catch his breath again.
“Rest now. Tell me about him tonight, Wayne,” the Lord of Night commanded as he disappeared with the arrival of dawn.
Wayne’s temperature seemed to climb with the sun. Steve did what he could to help. He stripped the bed of blankets and draped cold, damp towels over Wayne’s brow. More than once Wayne had asked Steve to answer the door.
“Someone’s knocking,” Wayne insisted.
“I’ve checked already,” Steve lied. He hadn’t heard a single knock all day, much less one coming from the very door-less spot Wayne kept indicating. “No one’s there.”
Wayne drifted in and out of a restless slumber. Despite Steve’s efforts, the fever had not lowered by nightfall. The Lord of Night paced at the foot of Wayne’s bed with a caged restlessness. Wayne had yet to wake up. 
“I don’t think he’s going to make it. Can you do anything for him?” Steve asked, hesitantly. “You came here to help him, didn’t you?”
“No,” the Lord of Night said shortly. “I can’t. I’m not a god of medicine. I’m not a healer.”
Each word was said with increasingly helpless frustration.
“I’m not strong enough to calm his dreams. I can’t ease his pain,” the Lord of Night said angrily. “At this rate, I won’t even be able to apologize to him.”
“Apologize for what?” Steve asked incredulously. Steve’s question went unheard. The Lord of Night tugged at his hood as if trying to hide his not-face. He gave up his pacing and slumped defeatedly on the chair beside Wayne’s bed.
“His family has sustained me for so long. He’s so devoted to me, and I keep failing him,” the god said, voice thick with shame. The brooding silence that followed was unlike the Lord of Night’s usual demeanor.
Steve wanted to protest the god’s claim. He was tempted to ask why the god believed he’d failed his last follower. Steve had seen people who’ve scorned and rejected their gods for a multitude of reasons. Wayne had not behaved like any of those people. Wayne had been so happy to see the god, Steve couldn’t imagine Wayne wanting an apology of any sort.
Before Steve could steel himself to ask, Wayne finally stirred awake.The Lord of Night straightened and drew the chair closer to his last follower. Steve situated himself near the corner Wayne had claimed to see a door. There wasn’t anything Steve could realistically achieve by placing himself between Wayne and the unseen door. When Death’s Door knocked, there was nothing a mortal being could do to keep it from opening. Regardless, Steve hoped he could provide some semblance of comfort by standing guard. 
Wayne’s eyes were glassy. He lay limp and disoriented, making not a sound outside his labored breathing. Neither the Lord of Night nor Steve spoke. Steve didn’t want to startle the man nor bring his attention to the unseen door. After a few minutes, Wayne finally noticed his bedside companion. 
“You,” he croaked in a daze. “I know you.”
“Yeah, it’s me.” The somber tone went unnoticed by Wayne whose entire face brightened with an unexpected joy. 
“Eddie,” Wayne said shakily. 
“What?”
“Eddie, you’re here,” Wayne said with more love and joy than Steve had ever heard from another person. He felt a momentary flash of envy that someone could hold another so dear, before it hit him that Wayne was speaking to the Lord of Night. The god seemed as dumbstruck as Steve over it.
“Is…is that me?” the Lord of Night asked. The god sounded so young and lost. It reminded Steve of Dustin and his friends when they were small. It inspired all the same protective instincts.
“‘course it’s you, Eddie,” Wayne said fondly. 
“Eddie,” the Lord of Night whispered. “Oh, it is. It is me. I’m here.” 
The words rang through the air. The finality in them nearly deafened Steve. The words were a realization that shifted the entire cosmos. The air he breathed, the light he saw, the very world he perceived had changed fundamentally. It was a change so loud and obvious, Steve was certain every human left on earth and everyone beyond the Door knew it happened. Yet between one blink and the next, the world remained the same as it ever was. Everything that had been still was and would continue to be for as long as the stars burn.
Inexplicably, Steve experienced a bout of vertigo at the shift that had and hadn’t happened. He fought back a wave of nausea that accompanied it.
“Eddie,” Wayne rasped over the rattling of his weak lungs. No longer translucent, the god appeared solid and real in a way he hadn’t even at the shrine where Steve first encountered him. Wayne’s wrinkled hand reached out to gently cup the Lord of Night’s cheek.
"Hey, Uncle Wayne," the Lord of Night said with a new voice. 
"My starmaker, I missed you. So much. But how're you here? You were gone, you di–"
"We didn't want you to be alone," Eddie, Lord of Night, responded thickly, leaning into the hand and covering it with his own.  "We wanted to thank you for taking care of us all these years."
"Don’t,” Wayne wheezed, teary. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eddie. You deserved so much more than your pa or me ever gave you."
"No! No, Uncle Wayne, don't apologize," he said earnestly. "You were perfect. You gave us a home when pa died. We were so little and you protected us. You loved us. That's all we ever wanted."
“Oh, Eddie,” Wayne said in a heartbroken rasp. “That damn door’s been knocking all day. Who'll take care of you when I'm gone, Eddie?" 
"Don't you worry about that, Uncle Wayne. Steve's gonna look after me.”
“Are you sure?”
The Lord of Night took off his hood and turned back to look at Steve for the first time since he sat himself at Wayne’s side. All the air left Steve’s lungs in one fell swoop. His god had a face.
His god was beautiful.
The Lord of Night’s skin remained pale, providing a stark contrast to his large, dark brown eyes glittered with bittersweet joy and sorrow. His lips, full and a soft shade of pink, were pulled into a wide, mischievous grin that dimpled his cheeks. His dark eyebrows were almost hidden under wild curls. His hair draped over the slope of his shoulders and matched his eyes wonderfully.
Steve willed himself to stay steadfast and strong under the god’s gaze. The Lord of Night’s grin twisted a bit as if he wasn't entirely pleased by what he saw. The nausea from before came back because Steve knew what people looked like when he'd disappointed them. As usual, he had no idea what he'd done wrong.
“Yeah, I’m sure. He already promised,” Eddie, the Lord of Night, said. He turned back to Wayne and gently wiped the sweat off the old man's brow. 
“Good,” Wayne said with a. “You need someone takin’ care of you, the way you get in trouble all the time.”
“We weren’t that bad,” Eddie said with a watery smile. After a pause, Eddie continued reluctantly. “Uncle Wayne, if you need to answer the Door, you can. I won’t be alone.”
“Yeah,” Wayne murmured. “I’m tired, Eddie.”
“You won’t be for long, I promise, just answer the Door.”
Wayne’s breathing slowed. His eyes drooped closed. Eddie clung to his hand until it went lax. A choked sound escaped him when Wayne’s breathing stopped. Steve instinctively stepped forward to comfort him but Eddie abruptly stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. He whirled around and stumbled towards the empty space Steve left behind. 
“You better take care of him. Wayne is a good man, he’s earned–” Eddie said to…the wall? But stopped and reeled back. His mouth curved down in a scowl. Eddie’s eyes were dark and glowering as he stared at something there that Steve himself could not see.
“Oh, fuck you, I know I can’t do anything to you but–”
Eddie stopped again. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone?
“I just want to know that he’ll be happy and saf–hey, asshole, I’m still talking you, don’t you dare– FUCK,” Eddie shouted at nothing. He panted in anger. Steve cleared his throat.
“My Lord?”
“I forgot how much of a dick he is. It’s not like I was asking for details! I don’t fucking care what’s past his stupid Door. It’s not a crime to want your family to, like, go somewhere good after. He could’ve just said yes or no!” Eddie ranted.
“My Lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Oh,” Eddie paused. “Right. You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Not yet. Not for a long time, hopefully.”
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*starmaker - so this is a reference to some lore i dropped in the previous scene during some edits I made after I had posted it on tumblr. basically, the legend explains why bedtime stories are a thing and that the lord of night creates a star for every story that impresses him. a really good book or author will get called a starmaker, though to the general population it's just a thing people say to denote greatness in stories without context of where the saying came from.
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and now we're all caught up with what i've written so far, wow! but don't worry, i still have plenty more to write, stay tuned.
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yuwuta · 6 months
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Nsfw // Remember the itfs talk?? Cause I was thinking, I was thinking so hard about what to answer cause like yesss!!!
I want to focus on the latter tags cause.... Wow thats what I'm talking about!! Whenever I read itafushi I like top yuuji and bottom (and more often than not sub) megumi. So it makes so much sense that you'd want to take revenge for that cause he liked you but chose to ask yuuji out before asking you?? Or, yuuji knew megs liked you and still choose to ask him out?? So, in the first scenario it would be more than fair to dom him! Maybe you were all just talking about how you all ended up together and yuuji just lets that slip. maybe you're feeling like being a bit (or maybe a lot) mean to megumi, get him on his knees, sucking, deepthroating really, yuuji with you controlling his movements absolutely forcing him to take all of yuus length down his throat and gag like crazy with an obscene amount of spit oozing out of the corner of his lips. It was definitely personal too, they way you were treating megumi. Yuuji is not innocent in all of this ofc, but I'll let that slide for the sake of the moment. To continue punishing megs you would have your way with yuuji while he just sits there and... watch. It would end with yuuji giving you a huge creampie, it was such a lewd sight too, his dick was already shining cause of megumis spit, and even more after he entered you cause you were soaked. So there you are, full of your bfs cum seeping out and you ask megumi to clean you, cause that wouldn't be the first nor last time that he'd taste yuuji. Your revenge on yuuji is definitely happening another day too
gnaws on a steel plate… godddddddd okokokok yuuji has such an effortless dominate aura about him that’s a little scary once he hones in on it. most of the time, it’s purely his outgoing, charming nature and physical strength that lures other people into submission by will or force, whichever comes first, and he’s sort of naive to it. but when he chooses to exercise that strength, when he chooses to be stronger than you, than megumi, when he chooses to seduce, it’s mind-numbing, it’s boyish, but there’s still a distinct power struggle that it’s dizzying… insane… 
anyway… you said two very important things in here and i only have the space (brainpower) to bring attention to one right now, and i will below, but just know we need to come back to the point about letting yuuji creampie you while megumi’s there bc i am firm believer that that’s actually one of megumi’s biggest fantasies. in general, seeing you and yuuji together does very bad things for his brain but not bad enough for him to deny that… also megumi king of safe sex until it comes to watching yuuji cum inside of you goddddd
yuuji is the one who instigates your revenge in the first place (and he will also do the opposite, will convince megumi that he deserves to take some frustration out on you, that you were sooo oblivious while he pined for you for all those years, how you weren’t very observant as his best friend and now he’s got the chance to show you exactly how badly he’s wanted you… but that’s for another time…)—but right now, yuuji’s getting into your head, he’s deceptively charming, not at all innocent, and far too calculated when he stops making out with megumi and turns to you, not too far away, sitting up against the headboard with wide eyes. yuuji thinks you look awfully cute—you always do when you three are together, you have this wide-eyed awe about you; not shy, but definitely still timid about the fact that you’re now dating your childhood best friend and his boyfriend. yuuji loves that look, but he thinks he’d like to ruin it more. 
and he takes the opportunity to do so, much to megumi’s surprised and distaste—ignoring megumi’s pawing at the hem of his shirt, impatient, yuuji looks over his shoulder to you and poses, “can i ask you something?” 
your eyebrows raise in surprise. megumi’s raise in suspicion, petulantly coming down from the high of making out with yuuji, and craning his head back to look at you. your eyes shift to his briefly, and then back to yuuji’s, almost embarrassed, and when he looks at megumi, there’s a slight blush at the tips of his ears. cute. you two are very cute, and yuuji likes it a lot. it confirms to him exactly what he wants to happen tonight. 
“you remember how i told you about yuuta-senpai? and how he’s my best friend, but when he started dating inumaki-senpai, i kinda hated him because they spent so much time together?” yuuji recounts casually, biting back a grin when megumi huffs. you nod, evidently confused, but yuuji continues, slowly reaching a hand up megumi’s arm, over his shoulder, up his jaw, until he reaches the shell of his ear, then asks, “did you ever feel that way about me?”
he can see the shock on your face, hear it from megumi when he gasps a bit and pulls away from yuuji’s touch, “what kind of a—”  
but yuuji doesn’t want to hear his side of the story right now. in fact, if all goes his way, he won’t be hearing much of anything from megumi tonight—he reaches his hand back up to pinch at megumi’s ear, and hushes him, “i’m just asking her, meg. she’s my girlfriend now, too. don’t i get to know these things?” 
your mouth is slightly ajar, and yuuji chuckles. you’re so quiet, he’s beginning to think he’s scared you, but soon, you smile, sweet, and gentle, and he can’t even blame megumi for fawning over you since middle school. “i—i didn’t hate you yuuji,” you reply, “i thought—think—you’re good for megumi. i just wanted him to be happy, and you make him happy.” 
yuuji hums. no wonder you two never got together before. “so you’re the self-sacrificing type, too, huh?” he smiles, far less innocently than you might think, “maybe i should have gotten you and yuuta-senpai together, instead.” 
you look like you’re about to refute, but megumi pulls back again, throughly annoyed when he interjects, “what the hell are you—”
but yuuji is quick to move his hand from his ear to his throat, pinching his fingers around his neck with just enough pressure to stutter and silence him. 
“i’m still not talking to you,” he reminds megumi, eyes sharp. he squeezes around megumi’s neck a bit tighter, before turning his attention back to you, “was he always like this? always biting before you can bark? must have been kind of annoying to deal with, huh?” 
your eyes widen, bambi-like and yuuji almost coos. from where you’re sitting against the headboard, you can’t see megumi’s face completely, just a sliver of his cheek, but you can probably tell by the reddening skin around his neck and ears that yuuji’s not just choking him for show. 
“i—uh… it’s not like that, it’s just… yuuji you’re gonna hurt him…”
but, you should also be able to tell that megumi’s not fighting it either. 
“you’re always so worried about him,” yuuji pushes megumi back against the pillows, paying no mind to his panting, simply ordering, “stay down.” 
yuuji then reaches out for you instead, gently pulling your body towards in him stark contrast to how he’d treated megumi a moment ago—twirling you as best he can while you’re kneeling on the mattress, maneuvering your body so that you’re straddling megumi and yuuji’s back is pressed against yours. 
yuuji hears you gasp, ever so lightly, when you inadvertently press your crotch against megumi’s. he almost wants to watch you two do that instead, but right now he’s a man on a mission, so instead, he puts his hands on his hips to keep you still, “see—he can take it. he even likes it.” 
you raise a hand to reach out to megumi, but yuuji stops you, forcing your back flush against his front, and caging you in with his arms and resting his chin against your shoulder. he turns his head to kiss you on the cheek, slow, once, and then again, and then against your earlobe, “you wanna try?” 
“try—what, choking him?” you ask, trying to turn your head to face yuuji, but he keeps it steady, keeps you facing megumi. 
“it’s not like you’re gonna hurt him,” yuuji hums against your skin, trails open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “it’ll feel good, i promise.”  
“well, uh... megumi, do you—”  
but yuuji raises a hand to squish your cheeks together before you can finish, turns your head to him and tuts, “i’m telling you it’s okay. megumi didn’t ask you before he asked me out, right? you don’t need his permission for everything, princess.” 
yuuji’s not just leveraging your feelings against each other now—now it’s sexual knowledge too, all the fantasies megumi has indulged him in about you, all the kinks he has that you’re clueless to. yuuji knows that despite the history you and megumi have, he’s the bridge between you now—and right now, yuuji wants you on his side.
“must bother you a little bit, right?” yuuji coos, releasing his grasp on your cheeks and using his hand to tilt your chin upwards to face him, “that he asked me out when he still had a crush on you. it still bothers me sometimes—and yet he had the nerve to get upset when i asked you about it. kinda selfish, no?” 
“i’m just saying, i think you should teach him a lesson,” yuuji continues, using his other hand to help your body rock against megumi’s, drinking in the sight of your pliant lips and the sound of his strained sighs. 
megumi’s probably not far from cumming in his boxers at this point, and you’re not far from helping yuuji make him do worse. 
“come on, princess,” yuuji smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before looking at megumi, “you gonna help me put a leash on him?” 
it’s an invitation and a threat, this you seem to understand. you can say yes to yuuji, say yes to having megumi between you two tonight, say yes and have a little bit of power; or you can say no, and be on the receiving end of punishment. 
yuuji almost thinks you’ll choose the latter out of loyalty, out of devotion to your best friend, out of shyness and inexperience in taking what you want, but you’re not just megumi’s anymore—your his girl now, too, and you make it known when your soft hand crawls up megumi chest and to his neck, and hesitantly wraps around his throat. 
tonight, megumi’s yours and yuuji’s. 
“good girl,” yuuji grins, wicked with intent when he presses a kiss to the back of your neck, “now lets have some fun with him.” 
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