#the only thing he sees around him. violence

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 10 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: A fight turns into something beautiful. Turns into what could be your last day on earth.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/rape/death, hinting at suicidal thoughts (only briefly and not really serious, but I'll put it here nonetheless), body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, (rough) sex, oral sex, switch, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The tight smile.

It was all you needed to see to know you were in great, big trouble. It was really disappointing though, considering how good the day had started.

When you woke up, right after having a short, restless sleep, you saw him lying beside you. And for once, ever since you had gotten here, he wasn’t awake. No, he was deep asleep. His beautiful  eyes shut tightly and his expression one of peaceful relaxation. You hadn’t ever seen him this perfect before.

It was nearly ridiculous. Just a few hours earlier, he had ravaged you in a way that left you feeling sore and used, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but somehow you had a feeling last night was different. It wasn’t the sex per say. It was the way he got angry and you felt you couldn’t get through to him, even if you truly wanted to. And what was far worse than all of it, was the threat.

The threat.

What did it even mean?

I would never kill you. At least not unless you gave me a reason to.

It wasn’t even a subtle threat. He didn’t try to hide that he was twisted and dangerous. Dangerous for you, if you pushed the right buttons. You had done so quite some times by now, but luckily you were still around. But how much was too much?

What would make his mind go blank and cause him to swing an axe at you?

Shoot you right in the face?

Gut you in the middle of the-

You shuddered and took a long, deep breath to calm yourself. This wasn’t going to happen. You wouldn’t anger him to that degree. And yet, you couldn’t keep yourself from thinking about it.

What could possibly piss him off enough, to trigger such an extreme reaction?

If you went out and fucked someone else?

Or if you spilled milk on the coffee table?

You took another slow breath and looked back at his peaceful, sleeping form. It was hard not to love him, when he was like this. Sweet. Peaceful.

Vulnerable.

You hadn’t even seen vulnerable, regarding him. Not really. You didn’t know his name, his family, his backstory or anything else that truly mattered. All you knew was which buttons to push and it would make him slap you. You had his age. And his sexual preferences. You knew he had some kind of dangerous job, but you had no idea what it was about. And you knew he was twisted.

Utterly and entirely twisted.

But you saw none of that as you watched him sleep. All you saw was a handsome man, the most handsome man you had ever seen, even with the faint trace of a scar on his cheek. You still hated the sight of it. Not because it would have done anything to his attractiveness. No, he was very obviously still perfect. It was the fact that he got hurt.

Someone hurt him.

You were surprised just by how angry the thought made you. He was always so confident. It was his choice to either be angry and take it out on you or to be gentle and spoil you with affection and gifts. But it was his choice. He was the man. He was in charge. He was the epitome of strength.

And someone hurt him.

Him.

A part of you was almost tempted to think yours.

Someone hurt your man.

But you pushed the thought away just as quick as it came. He was hardly your man.

Your bane, your curse, your horror. Yes.

But not your man.

When he stirred slightly, you were pulled out of your thoughts. It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for him to blink his eyes open. When he finally looked up at you and met your gaze, a hint of surprise flashed over his features. But he schooled his expression into a soft smile effortlessly.

“Good morning, my little owl.” He purred. “You’re up early.” He raised a brow and smirked slowly. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Your face flushed, but you didn’t feel the need to deny it. It was pretty obvious anyway.

“I did.” You said quietly. “I couldn’t help it. You looked so…peaceful.”

He hummed softly and propped himself up on his elbows, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear with two fingers. “Peaceful? Doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He didn’t seem angry or even irritated that you watched him. If anything, he seemed amused or maybe even strangely flattered.

You shrugged.

“Have you been up for long?”

You shook your head.

He frowned slightly and held your chin in his hand, brushing his thumb over your skin in a gentle way. “You didn’t sleep well. You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

You averted your gaze. What could you possibly tell him? That you spent all night, asking yourself not if, but when he would finally snap and snap your neck the same?

“Look at me.”

You hesitated, but eventually you met his gaze again. His expression was one of thoughtfulness and curiosity and you knew you had to give him something. He wouldn’t stop pestering you otherwise. You thought for a moment, before you finally gave up. You didn’t trust your ability to lie to him. He would see right through it and punish you for trying to deceive him.

“It’s about last night.” You murmured quietly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but eventually he relaxed his expression and let go of your chin. With a soft sigh, he murmured back: “Was it too much for you? Too rough?”

You thought about the best possible way to answer this. Eventually you came up with something you would have hoped would be the perfect solution. “I’m still ashamed.”

“Ashamed?” He frowned.

“Because a part of me enjoys it.”

He hummed softly. “We talked about this, sweet girl, but I’ll say it again and again. You have nothing to be ashamed about. First of all, it’s not your fault you turned out like this.”

“That’s kind of the problem.” It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. It did bother you. Just that the life threatening thing was worse. “I feel like you enjoy what we do, because you simply enjoy it. And I think I enjoy it, because I feel the constant need to get hurt and degraded, because of…because of what happened to me.”

He regarded you with a long, thoughtful look. His eyes softened somewhat and he was back. The man who supposedly cared about you came back, after a long, rough night. He sighed and rolled over so that he was on his back and staring at the ceiling. All the while he stretched out his arm and pulled you along, curling you into his side. He didn’t look at you as he spoke and his tone of voice was almost emotionless.

You couldn’t tell if you preferred this over the anger. Probably not.

“Did I ever tell you about my father?”

You froze. What? No. He hadn’t ever told you anything about himself that mattered. Let alone his family. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t even have a father.

But all you managed was a small, breathless shake of your head.

He hummed softly and played with your hair as he spoke, still keeping his voice cool and measured. He never met your gaze. Almost like he couldn’t. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to appear nonchalant or if he truly didn’t care. You hoped for the first one.

“My father had some creative ways of punishment.” He hummed. Oh, God. “Similar to your mother, I might think. Just more blood. And a few…other things.”

You held your breath as he spoke, feeling utterly sick. The fact that he had so subtly and smoothly threatened your life last night was suddenly the last thing on your mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, sweetness. I was always a little different from other boys my age. I wasn’t interested in the things the others were. I liked different things. Darker things. But I’m pretty sure, had it not been for my father…” He hummed. “He did some nasty things. Really nasty. And not only to me. To my mother as well.” He turned to face you fully, while you still lay frozen and staring at him with bated breath. All the while he caressed your face and spoke in this soft voice, like he was reading from a children’s book. It was eerie. “That might be one of the reasons why I am always in control.” He smiled briefly. “Especially sexually.”

You just kept staring at him. He hadn’t said it outright and he probably never would, but you could tell there was something. Something dark and terrible, something that still haunted him, even after all these years. And it made you sick to the core. The fact that his father, his own father, had hurt him, it made you feel nauseous. And especially, angry.

“So, I should probably be grateful to him, don’t you think?”

You knew you weren’t supposed to say anything to that, anything about that at all. No matter how terrible you felt, no matter how badly you wished to comfort him. He would get angry, because he would think of it as pity. You were sure. But you still had to say it.

“Your father is a sick man.” You said quietly. “And you didn’t deserve whatever he did to you.”

“Oh, I’m aware, my sweet, darling girl.” His face lit up in a soft smile. “I was just a boy. A twisted one, maybe. But still a boy.”

It made you feel as uneasy, as you felt relieved about it. At least he acknowledged it. He had no fault in his father’s cruelty. At least not back then.

And at least there was something. A tiny reminder that he was human, that he was real, that there was something akin to flesh and blood that made him similar to you. Not the fact that it had happened. Oh no, you would have changed it, were you in the power to. You would have bled and suffered, if only it meant to free him from the burden of his past.

No, but the thought that he told you about it. He had a father. A mother. A family. He had a childhood. A life. He was real.

You lay in silence for a long while. Of course you wanted to say more, to comfort him and hug him. To kiss away the fear he had probably felt as a little boy. You wanted to take him in your arms and make him whole again, puzzle him together until he got reunited with the love he was so desperately missing all his life. What about his mother? You asked yourself. But you thought now wasn’t the best time to ask. You didn’t want to risk making him angry, when he wasn’t so far. He hadn’t ever shared as much of himself. You didn’t want to say anything. And, you suddenly realized, you were afraid to pressure him.

So you said the next best thing. In the silent hope, that one day he’d trust you enough to let you in.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You said very softly. His head perked up and his expression softened. No anger in sight.

“My sweet, caring girl. The ghosts of my past are no more than that. And don’t you worry. I got my revenge.”

You bit your lip and rolled onto your side, facing him properly. The thoughtfulness in your eyes turned into something else the longer you looked at him, a mixture of concern and gentleness. He didn’t seem to mind. He let you stare without interrupting your thoughts. It was a peaceful, comfortable silence.

“How did you get your revenge?” You asked quietly, before you could stop yourself.

He smirked and stretched out his arms behind his head.

“I killed him.”

A part of you had suspected as much. But another part of you, the naïve little girl that you somehow still were, felt horrified. He killed his own father. And yet, that other part of you whispered softly in the back of your mind.

Did you expect anything else?

You thought back to your mother. Had you ever had a gun in the wrong moment-

No. Never. You couldn’t kill anyone. Not even a fucking fly. You were the type of person to chase them out of the window, instead of crushing them.

It wasn’t enough to calm you down and he seemed to notice.

“Are you alright, sweet girl?”

You were going to die anyway. Why not speak freely at least?

Forget his father. He’s dead. But you’re not. Not yet at least.

“You scared me last night.”

His brows furrowed. “When we-“

“No.” You said in a soft tone and slowly sat up, wrapping the sheets around your body. “I mean, yes. Kind of. But that’s not the problem. You scared me when you said…when you said you would kill me if I gave you a reason to.” Your expression and your tone of voice were almost child-like. Innocent and curious, not at all trying to guilt-trip him. Just a girl, scared for her life. Her sanity.

Herself.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He said softly as he sat up as well. He reached out to pull you on his lap, but you pulled back. He frowned, but he didn’t protest.

“I was simply-“

“What could get me killed?”

It was so sharp, so matter-of-fact, that it made him pause for a moment. He looked genuinely caught off-guard, like he never expected him to ask him such a question. And like he wasn’t sure how to answer it.

“What?”

“What could I say or do that would make you kill me?” You asked in a soft voice. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, but you tried to stay strong. You needed to get a point across. You needed to know.

He thought for a moment, before he leaned back and narrowed his eyes in a thoughtful frown.

“Another man.”

Cheating. As if you really were anything to each other, right?

Such a normal thing. People got killed over cheating all the time, didn’t they?

Or did they really?

“Another man.” You whispered. “Okay. What else?”

He hummed softly. “If you left me.”

“If I left you?” You meant it in a way as if saying; how would I be supposed to leave you? There aren’t even fucking windows here.

He nodded. “When you leave me, you’re no longer my girl. And I don’t have a reason to keep you alive, if you’re not.”

You swallowed thickly. How very refreshing. He was being honest at least. Wasn’t that what you wanted? And you didn’t know if this was better or worse. You had expected as much.

“Anything else?” You whispered hoarsely.

“No.”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “No? If I don’t cheat on you or leave you, you won’t-“

“No.” He said again, in that infuriating, calm tone.

“And if I insulted you?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “If I hurt you? If I-“

“Don’t get me wrong.” The menacing bastard was back. “You don’t get to trample on me, sweet girl. In fact, you know what happens, if you do all that. You’ll get punished. And that didn’t change.” He narrowed his eyes further.

He took a long breath to calm himself and finally said: “I just didn’t want you to be terrified for no reason. I’m sure there are a few more things you can do that will definitely get you killed. So, try not to push my buttons too much. Don’t experiment. Don’t think you get any kind of power. All you are is my girl. Mine. Mine to use. Mine to torment as I please. You’re my plaything. My toy.” He got angrier with every word and you were sure, more than sure, you had done something terribly wrong.

“Mine to use however I see fit.” He gritted out. “Because that’s all you are to me.”

Every word stabbed a wound deeper and deeper into your soul. He didn’t love you. You weren’t an idiot. But a part of you had hoped, hoped so desperately, that you were anything more to him. Anything of meaning. Anything he cared about. Anything he thought about and smiled, when he went off to his mysterious workplace. Anything at all.

But you weren’t. You were his plaything. His fucktoy. His doll.

His girl.

Your face burned in shame and your guts churned painfully. You slowly looked down at your hands and folded them in your lap, while you kept the blanket pulled up to your chin.

“I wasn’t-“

“Yes, you were.” He hissed and roughly pulled your chin up, to make you look at him. “Did you hear me? You’re nothing more than a thing for me to use, a doll, something to dress up in a pretty dress and take my anger out on. Did you get that through your goddamn, thick skull? You’re nothing. Nothing at all.” He spat out.

At this point, you felt indeed like he had stabbed you. The knife was still there on the carpet by the bed. How very reckless. You could have stabbed him last night, didn’t he think about that? No, he was tired or maybe he just trusted himself to have broken you enough not to ever hurt him.

It was true. You wouldn’t ever hurt him. Not like that. That one punch was as far as it could go.

And now, as you sat there and listened to his cruel words, a small part of you suddenly wished he hadn’t bluffed, hadn’t used the knife as a way to find relief in his twisted mind. A part of you wished you weren’t there, to listen to his cruel reminders. The reminder that you were nothing.

Nothing at all.

You felt your hands shake, just the same second your lip quivered.

He was so angry, so furious, he hardly even recognized your presence. He wanted to make some point known.

You understood it now.

He would never love you.

But you? It was too late for you. You already loved him. And he was breaking your heart.

All your life you thought that couldn’t happen to you. You always assumed you were far too numb for these things.

A tear rolled down your cheek and you stared firmly down at your lap. Your hands were shaking furiously and your body shook with the sobs you choked back.

By the time he looked up again and saw the state you were in, his anger immediately disappeared. Something akin to horror took its place instead. He rushed forward without even thinking about it and held your arms tightly, tilting his head down below and staring up at you, to make you look at him.

“Wait.” He said quickly. “Wait. I didn’t mean it.”

You were stuck between pushing him away and letting him console you. But you knew there was probably nothing that could ever bring you back. Your heart, already broken and bruised, had just somehow been pieced back together by him, only for him to crush it again under the palm of his hand, under the cruelty of his words, under the weight of his actions.

You decided to push him back instead. At least for once, you tried to keep a semblance of dignity. It was a lost cause, but it meant something to you.

He let out a surprised exhale, but quickly rushed forward again, trying to get ahold of you, but this time, you struggled.

“Get off of me!”

“No, you need to listen to me!”

“No! No, get the hell off!”

“You need to listen!”

You struggled even harder and pushed him back, clawed at his skin and within seconds you found yourself in the middle of a physical fight. So far, he hadn’t tried to slap you or bring you to your senses anyhow, he just tried to make you focus. And when you hit against his chest or pushed him back by his shoulders, when you scratched his arms and pulled on his hair, he let you. Without retaliating. He let you.

You were just waiting for him to snap. A part of you might even have been hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, because he had just hurt you so terribly. But he didn’t.

And when you pushed him back against the mattress, he let you.

And when you straddled his lap, he let you.

He even let you intertwine your fingers and press his hands against the bed.

He just let you.

You stopped struggling. Stopped fighting him and stopped trying to provoke anything.

You were on top him, your hair falling over your shoulders and framing your face like a waterfall. Everything else was suddenly gone. All that there was left were him and you. He stared up at you, his eyes wide and his expression one of quiet fascination. Of course he allowed you to take control. After all, all it needed was a tiny bit of strength from him and he’d have you pinned to the floor. But this time, he didn’t. He didn’t protest, didn’t fight back, didn’t even flinch. He allowed you to take the lead. He allowed you to take control of him.

When the thought hit you, you nearly choked on the air you breathed. And you breathed, heavily and quickly, until your breaths mingled into one. You leaned further down, so close that the tip of your nose almost touched his. His chest rose and fell quickly. You could tell, even though you kept your focus on his face.

“You meant it.” You whispered breathlessly.

He stared at you with his mouth slightly agape and then he slowly shook his head. “You’re more.” He whispered back.

More than a toy?

More than a doll?

More than just his girl?

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t allow yourself to hope, because if you did, the next time he crushed it, it would be ever harder for you to find back to yourself. And did you really want to risk that?

You shook your head, ready to come up with the next bitter, biting response, when his words caught you off-guard.

“You’re not only mine”, he said quietly. “I’m also yours.”

God, this was confusing. And slowly you felt yourself get as dizzy and nauseous as you would have on a rollercoaster. You hated rollercoasters, because you were afraid of them. You hated them, because you never went on one.

“You’re two people at once.” You whispered breathlessly. “How do I know, when your evil twin will be back?”

He smiled slowly. Even now, even when you felt heartbroken and furious, his smile meant so much to you. It made everything seem beautiful. Everything was easier. Nothing hurt.

Until it did.

“I know.” He whispered. “Maybe you could try and put him in his place, every once in a while.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. Did he really allow you to take control? Just like that? Was it a trick? Was it a game? A joke? Something even more evil he’d come up with?

Whatever it was, you were dying to find out. Because you were sure, you’d get punished anyway. So, why not make use of it?

You took a shaky breath and leaned further down, so close, until your lips almost touched.

“You really didn’t mean it?” You asked in the ghost of a whisper.

His gaze briefly wandered down to your lips, before he looked into your eyes again.

“No.” He whispered back. “Not even I am that dense.”

That nearly made you smile.

But just nearly.

Instead you did something else. You leaned further down, until your lips finally touched his. The kiss was feather-light and hesitant. The touch was so gentle, that you caught yourself asking yourself in your head, if it really was the same man.

He was letting you kiss him. He didn’t try anything. Didn’t try to part your lips or pull you closer. Didn’t try to push your legs apart. His hands were still motionless under yours, all that he did was slowly caress the back of your hands with his fingers.

He participated in the kiss. He kissed you back, obviously. But all he did was mirror your touch.

You were in control.

You gasped against his lips. You had no idea what to do. It felt odd. Maybe even wrong. The only things you had ever fantasized about were to get controlled by someone else.

Controlled by him.

And for you to control him, it sounded like an impossible endeavor. It felt like one, even more. But there you were. On his lap. Slowly guiding the pace.

You swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what to do.” You whispered into the kiss.

He hummed very quietly. “Imagine I’m the good twin.” He whispered back and pulled back just enough to look at your face. “There is no right or wrong. Just do whatever feels good.”

You bit your lip as you watched him closely. It could still be a trick. But in the back of your mind, you knew it wasn’t. It was an attempt to heal you. Heal him as well, maybe. You were both damaged. Both two fragments, incomplete and alone. Was it possible that you could heal each other?

It sounded strange in your head. You wanted to be controlled. And he survived off the feeling of being in control. But maybe, just maybe, this was what you both needed. A role reverse. A chance to grow. A chance to connote. Just this once.

To become one, whole thing.

You took a deep, shaky breath and brushed your lips over his. You were still nervous. But you tried to do what he said. Just do whatever feels good.

And maybe it would.

You hesitantly, almost shyly, ran the tip of your tongue along his lower lip. His reaction surprised you. He moaned. You really expected him to get off on nothing but cruelty and violence. But somehow the feeling of you, of being with you, in any way, seemed to be enough.

You needed to try it. The shift. The control. Even just this once.

You slowly parted his lips with your tongue and yours met his in a timid, careful movement. He was still the one guiding you. But the biggest reason was, that you had no idea what you were doing. But he was holding himself back. You were on top, pressed against him.

He was yours.

Your man. Your psychopath. Maybe even your lover.

The kiss went on and your movements became more and more confident. You didn’t actually care what you were doing, as long as you heard the soft moans he tried to suppress. And every time he did, you couldn’t help but moan, too. Your tongues tangled in a sinful dance and you slowly slid your fingertips over his wrists and up his arms. Until you eventually reached his shoulders. His neck. His hair. His cheek. His chin.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were breathing. All the time you expected him to push you away, to reject you, to stop you. But he never did.

Your hand stilled against his face and you pulled your head back to look at him. To see if he was going to stop you. Mock you. Hurt you some more.

But his expression was more earnest than you had ever seen before. You could see the way his throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed and the small, tiny frown of focus on his face. He looked much more mature in that moment than he usually did. When he wore that twisted smile, he looked younger. Carefree. But in that moment, he looked like a man who had seen life.

And death.

And taken a part in it.

He slowly parted his lips, when your fingers stilled against them, inviting you. Your mouth fell open and you inhaled sharply as you felt his tongue dart out.

“God, what are you-“ You stopped yourself and instead released the softest moan, when he ran his tongue along your index finger. His hand gently circled your wrist and he pressed his lips against the back of your hand. Your knuckles. And eventually each finger.

You watched him in awe, realizing you were only ever falling deeper for him.

What was it with that man that you loved him so much, despite all the pain he put you through?

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. The watching, the silence. You squeezed his hand and your head dipped forward. Your lips found his neck and you made a point of kissing each and every spot of skin you found on the way. His eyes fell shut and he took a shaky breath.

“No.” He whispered. “Wait.”

You immediately froze, expecting the inevitable rejection. But instead, he bit his lip and slowly slid his hands under your nightdress. The calloused skin of his palms ran up your back and he gently slid the material up, until he finally managed to pull it over your head and onto the ground. His gaze wandered from your face, down to your neck, where it lingered and eventually further down to your breasts and your stomach.

“God.” He whispered breathlessly. “God, you’re perfect.” He bit his lip again and met your gaze. “Let me worship you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you tilted your head to the side, only to feel his lips brush along your earlobe and eventually over your neck. You closed your eyes and sighed softly. It was the best feeling in the world.

His lips caressed your neck and his tongue occasionally darted out, drawing a moan from your lips. He moved with devilish slowness, a torturous pace, slow enough to make you melt into a puddle of desire on top of him. A part of you almost wanted to beg him. Beg him to go faster, to touch you harder, to take you. But you didn’t. Because another part of you wanted to savor every second of this.

When you felt the wet heat of his mouth move lower and embrace the sensitive skin of your breast, you felt your eyes roll back in your head. The sigh that came over your lips was more of a moan. You gently buried your fingers in his hair and played with it. Every time his tongue slipped out to run over the curve of your breast, you felt your hips press down against his own on pure instinct. You felt how hard he was, painfully so. But he didn’t press his hips up against you, he didn’t even try once. He was skilled at ignoring his own need, when he wanted to. He made you feel like a princess. Like all that mattered in the world were you.

You squirmed and shuddered when he moved underneath you, brushing his tongue down a wet path on your stomach.

His hands encircled the back of your thighs and he held you firmly, his fingers gently digging into your skin. And he moved. Lower and lower. Until you felt his hot breath kiss the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A soft whimper left you and you bit your lip to keep yourself from begging. He was going to give you whatever you wanted. Today, there was no need to beg.

He slowly but firmly pushed your legs apart, and settled in-between them, still lying on his back and ignoring his own ache. He shot you a pointed look, before he finally stuck out his tongue and rolled it over the warm wetness of your need.

“Oh, God.”

He hit every right spot at the first try and you could no longer stay silent. His grip on your thighs tightened and he silently encouraged you to move. Move. Take what you want.

You swallowed a shaky moan and began to tentatively move your hips. It didn’t take long for you to figure out how it worked, how you had to move. It was so easy and the pleasure rolled over you like a warm bath.

“Oh, God.” You whispered again, tightening your hand in his hair.

He did the most sinful things, sliding his tongue inside you and pulling it back out, running it along every spot, embracing your center of pleasure with his warm lips and it felt like Heaven. He knew where to kiss, where to lick, where to suck and where to flick his tongue. He knew everything. And in that moment, you didn’t care one bit about where he gained that knowledge.

Because he used it on you.

And he’d be using it on your for as long as you were his girl.

And you wanted to be his girl for the rest of your life.

“Yes. There. Right there.” You gasped out, moving your hips again and silently begging him to continue, to give you what you wanted, to give you him.

And he did nothing less than that. He kissed you like he’d kiss your lips, he tightened his grip, he didn’t let you back away. His mouth was firmly attached to your body, eager to give you everything you wanted. Letting you ride yourself to bliss.

Which was exactly what you did. You didn’t even realize it, by how suddenly it happened, but your release rolled over you like a flash of lightning. It felt more intense than ever. You felt everything deeply and he didn’t stop, until he was sure, you were entirely spent and satisfied.

You were still gasping for air, when he finally released his grip on you and looked up at you with a soft expression.

You stared at him, trying to catch your breath. All you wanted was to say something, anything, but no words came over your lips. All you managed was the gentle touch of your palm against his cheek. He smiled slowly and covered your hand with his own. Then he slowly moved back up, so that you’d straddle his lap again.

“How was that?” He whispered.

“Fuck.” Was all that you managed.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, but no trace of mockery. Just satisfaction and a tad bit of pride. You forgave him. You would have forgiven him anything.

“Can I?” You finally whispered. You needed to know, if you were still in control.

He smirked. He looked so confident. Just like you always knew him. Confident and strong. In control. And yet…

“I’m all yours, baby. Ride me.”

You bit your lip. Your face flushed the tiniest bit, but you nodded. Now, this was making you really nervous. You had seen videos, but were you able to do it yourself?

Why not? You thought. Why not?

You leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss. Still slow and sensual, but you poured all the passion you felt for him in that kiss. And he responded in kind. He didn’t try to take control of your mouth. Instead he moaned against your lips, every time your tongue brushed against his. He ran a hand down your back and squeezed your behind firmly in his hand.

“Fuck, I need you to ride me or I’m going to die.” He groaned as he bit your lip. You responded with another moan. You still felt his hardness press against you, hard and ready and needy.

God, the thought alone. The thought that he wanted you that much. It drove you insane.

You swallowed thickly and carefully ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach, down his waist, until-

You smiled. You missed his throbbing, aching need and brushed your fingers gently along his thigh instead.

He glared up at you, a hint of desperation behind the repressed anger.

“I should have known this would come.” He hissed.

Your smile widened into a grin, as you teasingly caressed his side instead.

“What? I’m just doing what you do.”

He released a frustrated growl.

“You-“

“Come on.” You whispered. “Let me have this. Just this once.”

He was still frustrated, but the look in his eyes softened the tiniest bit.

“But I want you.” He murmured and you swallowed.

“How much?” You whispered. God, this was fun.

“How much?” He asked incredulously. “Can’t you feel how much?”

You hummed in the same way he normally would. So innocent. So devilish.

“Paint a picture with your words.”

He exhaled sharply. But eventually he calmed down and wrapped his arms around you gently.

“I need to be inside of you or I’m going to die. I’m going to die, I mean it.”

“Keep going.” You whispered. “Talk to me.” While you spoke, you shifted slightly on his lap, gently grinding down on him and letting him feel you. Just enough to make you gasp, not enough for him to enter you yet.

He bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

“I want to feel you.” He murmured. “I want to fuck you. I want to be one with you. And I fucking want to cum inside you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you sighed.

“Keep going.” You responded in a breathless whisper, as you ground down against him again. The friction was enough for your both to snap your eyes shut.

“I want you to cum.” He whispered back. “I want you to cum so hard, that it’ll make you cry.”

“Fuck.” You whispered breathlessly and buried your face in his neck. “Fuck, yes.”

You swallowed again and pulled your head back up, enough to rest your forehead against his.

“Let me move then?” You whispered. “Please?”

He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “But fucking get to it.”

You released a shaky sigh. You kept your forehead pressed against his and stared into his eyes, intense and deep, while you slowly spread your legs further. You shifted again, your movements a little awkward and insecure, but eventually you felt him press up against you and you felt his tip press against your entrance. And then you slowly lowered yourself down onto his lap. You felt him fill you, but it happened so slowly that you felt every bit of it. And all the time you kept your gaze fixed on his eyes. His reaction. Every moan, every sigh, every twitch. All of it was enough to make you moan in return. You slowly lowered yourself further down, until you felt him all the way. And when you did…You didn’t move. You stayed like that. Just feeling. Just feeling all of him.

And the look in his eyes was worth it.

You had never seen him this soft, this vulnerable before. Not even when he told you about his father. His eyes were softer than ever before and you suddenly realized; you had never seen him this needy. This desperate to feel you. You were sure, just a second more and he would either take control or beg you. But you couldn’t let that happen.

It was his first time to let someone else take control after all.

And you couldn’t have him begging. You couldn’t have him do anything that would make him feel ashamed, when he was so unabashedly doing everything in order to make you happy.

So finally you moved. Slowly and carefully, very unsure still. But you moved. And he moaned. And he moved. And you moaned.

You had never felt him this deep before, this hard, this raw.

“Ride me.” He whispered breathlessly. “Ride daddy’s cock, baby.”

Your face flushed even more, but all you could focus on were his words. You movements became more forceful, more frantic, more desperate. And as hard as he tried not to move at all, it was simply impossible. He pressed his hips up against you, letting you feel him, so hard and God, so desperate.

“Yes. Yes, babygirl, just like that. Let daddy fill you up.” He groaned out.

With every thrust, every move, you felt yourself get closer yet again. It felt like a fantasy.

“Yes. Yes, my sweet girl, my baby, my darling, my love-“

His eyes widened frantically. He panicked. You could tell. So did you. On the inside. But on the outside, you pretended. You pretended all you could, that you hadn’t heard it.

The L-word.

The word that nearly broke you.

No, you hadn’t heard it. He had never said it. It was just a slip-up. A simple mistake. Nothing to get hot and bothered about.

When he realized you didn’t react, he slowly calmed down again and tightened his grip on your hips. His own movements became more and more desperate, until he was pounding into you from underneath.

“Fuck, yes. Cum for me, my babygirl. Cum for me, my darling. Take every drop of my cum.”

His words were enough to drive you over the edge. With a sharp inhale, a breathless moan, you felt your own orgasm hit you again. And he went over the edge right with you.

Your lips just an inch apart and your eyes fixed on each other.

Deep.

And raw.

“Yes.” He growled. “Oh God, yes. Fuck, yes. My girl. My girl, my...” His voice cracked and he came with a roar. He pushed his hips against you with a fervor that nearly left you bruised from the inside and it made your release drag on and on, until you felt you were about to take off to the sky.

It took you a few seconds, but when you both finally came back down from your high, you realized you were still staring into each other’s eyes. You mouth slightly agape and gasping for air, your brows furrowed and your bodies still connected in the most intimate way. You didn’t want him to withdraw yet. You wanted to feel his release run along your thighs. You wanted to feel dirty like that and at the same time you wanted something else entirely.

Stay close.

Stay together.

My love.

The word kept echoing through your mind like a poem, like a curse.

Like a death warrant.

My love.

He buried his hand in your hair and gently tugged on it.

“That…was…”

You had never seen him speechless before. The sight stirred so much in you.

You idiot girl. He hurt you, he hurt you so terribly and all you wanted right now was him beside you, at all times, maybe with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly.

God, you were just as insane as he was. Probably even more so.

He was a psychopath. What was your excuse?

You tried to distract yourself from your thoughts and so you decided to take control a last time. Your head dipped forward and you kissed him. With a tenderness that made your heart ache. And he responded. With a softness that left you breathless.

My love.

Half an hour later, you finally managed to get your hands off of each other. After you finished your bathroom routine, he invited you to the shower with him. You’d join him in a minute, you decided, while you were on your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Your mouth felt dry, your whole body did actually.

You felt sore as hell, but God. God.

The memory of it made you smile. You had never felt more loved in your life. Never felt more special, more desired, more…

A sound made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked up from the ground. What you saw made your heart stop.

The door.

The fucking door.

You mind went blank and your heart stopped beating.

The fucking door was open.

You swallowed thickly. Was it a test? Probably. Did you consider leaving?

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped into the hallway. The front door was open and there was that visitor’s terrace with a glass door attached to it, which led to the great staircase of the apartment complex.

It was a test. Or something equally cruel.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if he truly made a mistake? He was only human after all.

You stared at the glass door like you would have stared at an alien.

This was probably your only ever chance. To flee. Escape.

Get back to…

To what?

To normality, you told yourself.

To safety.

A lump formed in your throat. Did you want that? Did you even want to leave?

Even if it wasn’t a test, did you truly want to leave him?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. It almost felt like acid and it weighed like a heavy stone on your heart. The thought of sleeping alone again, of never seeing his silly smile again. Even the twisted one, you’d miss.

The thought of never feeling his lips on yours again.

His hands in your hair, his voice in your ear.

His everything.

Him.

You were his girl.

You couldn’t just up and leave. What was there in the world for you?

Maybe this was exactly your destiny. Him. Him. Him.

He was all you needed, right? He took care of you. He provided for you.

He loved you. In his own, twisted way.

My love.

You couldn’t, you decided. You couldn’t leave. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t ever-

The sound of someone’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, but to your horror, it wasn’t him. Your eyes widened impossibly when you saw the form of a man approaching.

He looked like a janitor or something like that. A man far past his prime with greying hair and a kind smile.

God, you had missed kindness.

But no, no, you were his girl. You were his girl. You wouldn’t ever leave.

You took a step back like a cornered animal as the man approached and said something to you in Korean. When you backed away even more, he stopped and his eyes widened in surprise.

He kept talking to you, kept speaking in that reassuring tone of voice.

“I…don’t…understand.” You breathed out.

You didn’t even realize how you must have looked, terrified and broken. A faint mark on your cheek. Your clothes crumpled. Bite marks, love bites, more marks on your throat.

He frowned slightly and tilted his head to the side.

“Miss-“ He said in a thick, Korean accent. “Miss- The man that’s live here- The man- Is he-“

In that moment, you felt it. His presence was so prominent, you didn’t need to hear him call out to you. You just felt it. He came in, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet from the shower. He most likely came to look why you hadn’t come yet.

You quickly spun around and met his gaze, your expression horrified. Your eyes were so expressive.

The door was open. He came by himself. It wasn’t my fault. Please! It wasn’t my fault!

Something hard flashed through his eyes, but it was only visible to you and it was only there for the blink of an eye. And then it was gone and it got replaced by the tight smile.

A tight, polite smile, directed at the janitor in the doorway. He spoke to him in Korean and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You stared at the ground, completely horrified.

Oh no, you thought.

Oh no. This is it.

_____________________________

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@hayakamis-blog Thank you for your lovely request, I loved the idea and I hope it turned out the way you hoped!

Author's note: I'll be honest with you, guys, this chapter cost me YEARS of my life, omg. I wrote 5000 words yesterday and then realized I didn't like what I was writing, so I deleted everything and did this today instead. I hope it was the right decision! On a super exhausted note, I'll try to answer all of your sweet, lovely messages in time!!! I'm not even exaggerating, a few of them really made me cry. Not almost, but for real. I don't know what I did to deserve all this kindness and love, but I really, really love you all! SO much!

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader and how they life in manor started

Author's note 1: This part is huge, and it was a huge struggle for me to write (and rewrite), so I apologize if it feels crumpled T^T and there will be other author's notes

Warnings: long read, grammar mistakes (English is not my first language), mental issues, abuse

Bruce knew that eventually you will leave the madbay, you were there long enough to heal, but he had no idea how to bring you to the manor and he can't predict your reaction, seeing your reaction of everything in medbay, your confusion and fear that you showed looking at the simplest things. But other things concerned him even more.

Firstly, he knew that taking you to manor would include revealing of his identity to you, and identities of rest of the family. Secondly, the family.... he was worried about how they would react on you being there. So far, non of the kids interacted with you, and only Dick visited you while you were in the medbay, but he never saw you awake, thanks for the side effects of medicine that made you incredibly sleepy. And thirdly, you were a child of a villain, who knows what you are capable of? So what if you seemed harmless in the madbay? Plus, Bruce knew Tim and Jay expected only bad for you and Damians opinion of you was as bad if not worse somehow. Bruce knows it's going to be tough and he is not sure he can deal with it

Today was the day he would let you see his face and lead you up to the mansion. So, why did the world greatest detective was feeling icky? Was he afraid of you? No, you are just a kid, yes Joker's kid, but still a kid. Was he afraid your potential reaction? Not really, but he was troubled that he could predict it.

Maybe you didn't really show emotions, which was concerning, but also was made him feel more at ease, since you didn't show any signs of acting like your father.

You were sitting at your bed in medaby staring at your blurred reflection in the mirror. You couldn't clearly see yourself, but you were sure you looked a bit different and the clothes you were wearing now, simple t-shirt and pants, were much more comy and much more suited for a child, unlike that horrible suit.

- Hey, little one, how are you feeling? - he asked with strained gentleness

- I'm okay - you answered simply

- Since you are mostly recovered you will have to leave the medbay - he started saying. You were expecting something like that to happend, because why would he let you stick around? He alredy done much for you. As you were staying in the medbay you remember that Batman had a rule - a rule of not killing. Maybe that's why he helped you and healed you up, he probably just didn't want to let you die. You knew your father wouldn't really care of something happened to you, and he wouldn't even avange you, because why would he? You are just a pawn and he has bigger cards to cards to care about.

- So you will bring me back? -you asked, simply, which shoked Batman. You just now simply and dully asked him if he will bring you back to the crime alley ? How? Why? He felt his heart stinging at your emotionless reaction.

- No, I want to give you your new home

- New home? - you asked, confused. What did he meant by that?

- Yes. You will live with me, Alfred, and my sons. - he said calmly, looking at you, studying your reaction, he moved his hands closer to his mask. - that means you will know who I'm, and who are my allies are, which brings me to the point, before we could go to your new home, you must learn few rules, you understand right? - you only nodded in response. You were really confused. Why he wants you to live with you? Why is he okay with it? What was his reasoning?

The rules included: do not reveal our dentities to anyone, no wepons, no sharp object, no violence, no disobedience, mandatory emotional check-ins, mandatory seek of help when you need it, respect of boundaries and few other. You listened carefully when he explained every rule, trying to remember every detail, but you couldn't really understand that all. And you didn't really understood what will happened if you break the rule, but you didn't wanted to take chances.

After he explained the rules and you nodded to confirm you got the idea, he finally took his mask, and his face seemed to be familiar, and after few sections of thinking you said

- Oh, you are a man from newspapers - you remember seeing his face on some of the newspapers you used as blankets back in the crime alley.

- So I guess you know me? And you know my name - he asked, a bit confused by your reaction and use of wording

- uh.. I saw you, I don't really who you are - and it was true, you may saw him on newspapers, but you didn't really read them, there was too much words you didn't understand

- My name is Bruce Wayne, you can just call me Bruce. And since I introduced myself, it's time for you to introduce yourself too - he gave you a slight, gentle smile, encouraging you to speak up

- my name is (your name)

- Follow me, (your name)

So now you were following Bat...uh Bruce into various corridors of ... giant house? Castle? You didn't really know, but it was. You looked around, trying to take in at least some of the surroundings, but it was too much for you to remember. All you could say, the place was really luxurious... really like a castle, like one you saw in story book you manage to found one day.

Finally you arrived at the corridors there you assumed lived residents of the place. If you understood correctly while listening to Bruce, here manor two of his sons lived permanent: Tim and Damian, and two others, Richard and Jason, occasionally payed a visit. As you looked around corridor, you suddenly heard unfamiliar voice

- Father, you really decided to let them live here? - that voice sounded annoyed and angry

- Damian, we've talked about it - answered Bruce. You looked to father and son, who started conversation, taking in the appearance of short boy with spiky hair, and bright green eyes. So this is Damian.... as you looked at him, you noticed that his angry gaze never leaving you. His cold anger mixed with with annoyance made you visibly flinched.

- and I still stand my words, they are dangerous - young boy said, walking past his father, stopping in front of you - I was raised by assassins, don't think I won't see through your games - he said closing walking in his room and closing his door. You looked at him go, you expected this kind of greeting.

- Damian can be a little hostile at first- Bruce tried to soften up the atmosphere Damian created

- oh, it's fine, I understand -you answered calmly.

- so, most of those rooms are free so, feel free to chose one.

You walked through the corridor, checking if the room was taken or not, and you stopped at the far away room in the end for the corridor. Knowing that you would probably annoy others with your existence in the manor, you decided to choose exactly this room. You understood that your life here depended on how Batman, or how he told to call him Bruce, and his sons, and if you wanted to live peacefully you needed to try hard and not make him angry.

Bruce wanted to encourage you to take a room closer to others, but decided not to, so he would not discourage you

As you and and him walked in, you couldnt stop looking around. You would be living here now, and it felt like a dream.

- if you need anything call Alfred, and if you need me, just say so to him. - said Bruce as he left you to settle down. You looked around, taking in a surroundings by a bit empty previous guest room that just became yours. You sat down on the bed, feeling it's softness. You were still a confused, you felt fear as always, but also there was something else in the mix of your feelings, something much more lighter.

--------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ -----------------------

In the morning you was woken up by the rays of sun. You didn't figured out how to close the curtains. Previously you didn't feel like going to dinner, so Alfred brought you sandwiches in your room so you at least could have a bite.

You looked out if the window, seeing beautiful geen garden. The sight was new to you, who grew up in the surroundings of dirty bricks and broken concrete. You watched sky, which looked more clear than in crime alley, clouds, birds, trees. It felt surreal, and it made this light feeling in your chest become stronger.

Alfred knocked soon after, he reminded you to wash your face and brush your teeth (something old butler had to explain you how to do) and said that he would lead you to the dining room.

Damian was already there, he tensed up once he saw you. You sat far away from him, sinking in your chair under his gaze.

Soon after you heard yawning coming form the way you've just walked in.

-Morning, Dams, morning Alfred - you heard the sleepy voice say - B left already?

- yes, master Tim - said the old butler putting coffee on place on the table near Damian's one.

- Drake - Damian said through teeth

- oh, look someon in a bad mood since morning, how - the boy sat down, suddenly stopping when he noticed you. He looked at you, not a word leaving him as he quietly staredat you for a few seconds with unreadable expression. Not knowing you decided at least to try to make the situation more strange

- hello? - you mumbled. And he just nodded. His gaze lingered a bit longer on your hair, before he looked away, looking visible uncomfortable. Alfred served the food soon after. It was one of the most tasty things you've ever ate, even if you could feel tension in the air that could be cut with the knife.

After Alfred was lead you back to your room and Bruce made a quick check up on you few hours latter you were left alone. You didn't really had anything to do: the books that were in the room were a bit difficult for you, and you didn't really had an idea what to do with crayons, because all the paintings that came in your mind were ones that were present on your father's "show scene". As you were loking at the window, you heard a sudden knock on your room's door. You turned around, awaiting too see an old butler, but was greeted with the sight of tall young man with wavy black hair, blue eyes, and slightly akward but nonetheless friendly simile.

- Hey, little one - he greeted - what are you up to.

- Hello - you mumbled rather shyly, looking at the window, when back at him.

- Oh, good-old window watching huh - you nodded, soon after adding

- You are?

- Right, I'm Dick, and what's your name?

- (your name)

- Nice to meat you. So, how are you here so far - he tried to striked up the conversation, before you heard familiar annoyed voice of Damian

- Grayson, I require your presence, now!

- Dami, just a minute - he answered

- now! - Damian repeated

Richard gave you an apologetic look - sorry, gotta go, but I would like to hang around you next time, if you Don't mind.

-I do not mind - you mumbled as you watched him left. The way he talked to you was unusual for you. It reminded the way how Bruce or Alfred talked with you, but it was warmer. It made that light feeling in your chest stronger for a bit, until it was taken away. It was strange to be talked with like that, but it was nice. Suddenly, you couldn't help but wish but to be talked with like that more.

--------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ -----------------------

As day went by, you started slowly getting used to the life in here and rutine. You mostly spend your time around Alfred, following him as if you were a little ducking. He helped you around, explained how to do one or other things, helped you to find books you could read through, also old butler introduced to tw, but you quickly found out that cartoons were a bit much to you, so insted you settled on nature documentaries.

So here you were in the living room watching about life of animals in tropical jungle, when you heard heavy footsteps behind door, after that you hears how doors were heavily pushed open, you turned around, and saw tall and built tall and muscular guy, with short black hair with few white strands on them and book in his hands. Judging by his looks and what Alfeed told you so far you guessed it was Jason. Though, he seemed somehow familiar to you, yet you couldn't understand why...

- hello - you mumbled, looking at him.

He instantly frowned, you could see the same expression of anger on his face, the one you noticed on Damian constantly.

- what, old man really had his sanity kicked out? - he grumbled.

You were unsure of how to react, what to do. On one hand you could clearly see that Jason was mad at you the same way Damin were, so the plan was ether to hide in your room, or to stay quiet. On the other hand, even if you really didn't understand how to interact with others, in a short time you've been in the manor Alfred told you some basics of social interactions and politeness, one of which was to iniciate conversions, which made you want to give it a go.

- I just found out that some animals pretend to be dead so they wouldn't become a prey - you mumbled quietly, you really just learned that fact so you decided to share it. But it.your words seemed to make Jason even more mad.

- tsk, I see you, little psycho, are not so different from your crazy Dad - he spat out angrily, leaving you feeling down. You weren't like your dad, were you?

- I uh - you struggled to say, but you couldn't form your thought. What to answer to that? You weren't sure.

- don't even try, I don't like clowns -he spat out. Before you could say anything or he could continue saying things that left you sad, Alfred walked in.

- Master Jason, master Bruce awaits you in a batcave

- thanks - he said as he walked out, leaning you alone with your confusion and sadness, or so it was until you heard Alfred's cautious voice

- Master (your name)? Are you feeling alright? You seem to be a in your thoughts.

- I'm okay - you answered immediately, not wanting to worry old butler

- I see. - he answered, a bit thoughtfully, before speaking again - would you like to have some tea with cookies? - you nodded eagerly, remembering their sweet taste -when follow me to the kitchen

While you were enjoying tea with cookies, and looking how Alfred was busy preparing lunch, cutting greens with cooking scissors and chopping vegetables. He done this all fast and gracefully, leaving you amazed by his skills. In the middle of him cutting yet another green leaf, Alfeed was asked to go down to the cave by Jason, who walked away immediately after. Old butler put scissors near the edge of counter, and asked you if you knew how to get back to your room, before leaving. You just finished eating last cookie, when you heard metallic ring of fallen scissors. You walked to pick them up, but seeing your blurred reflection in them gave you an idea difference of original idea. Now you were on the way in your room.

Honestly speaking, you understood why your father was hated in this house, and you could understand why they hated you too, Joker is your dad after all, but you didn't like him to. In fact, he only brought you suffering. And you knew there wasn't a way to undone it,

But there is one thing you could do.

You walked in your room, I'm your bathroom, and in mirror you saw that one thing that reminded you of your father's the most. Your damaged green hair. Although while you were staying here, your hair grew longer and you could see your original color of hair, but green was still there and you hated longer green parts of your hair, his parts of your hair. Damian, Jason and Tim probably hated them too.

Chop.

You started cutting the green parts, leaving only strands of YOUR hair. It took awhile, it was hard. But few minutes after you were without them, and with fluffy uneven mess of a haircut on your head.

Putting all your green hair in a trash, you hurried back to kitchen. To your surprise, Alfred wasn't there yet. You put scissors in the sink, and returned to your tea, happy thay now you didn't had reminder of your dad on your head.

------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ -----------------------

After your sudden haircut, scolding, and another, but more professional haircut latter, Alfred decided to keep an eye on you. He had to admit that your desire to show difference form your dad finally made him warm up to you. But he was even more surprised when you said that you wanted to help him with tasks around the house and managing requests of boys and Bruce. Bruce found it a welcome change, but not all boys agreed with him

Which leads you to the present moment, you were cautiously carrying tray with coffee and snacks for Tim, since he skipped lunch yet again making Alfred worried yet again, when you were walking past Damian.To avoid him, you took a little to the other side, almost kicking off some sort of sculpture, which he caught, stopping in front of you, glaring at you

- Tt... use your eyes when you are going anywhere, pay attention - he grunted.

- I'm sorry - you said calmly, - cool move by the way - you said in attempt to soften the move

- I wasn't asking for your opinion. - he said, glaring at you one more time and saying - One false move and you'll find yourself dismantled faster than these figurines could hit the ground. Touch anything else in Father's collection, and you'll be practice dummy for my katana.

You tried not to flinch at Damian words, but did so anyways. It took you few minutes to calm down and continue your way towards Tim's room. You prepared to knock, but door was slightly agape.

- Tim? - you called, imitating Alfreds tone of voice. You saw how his hand gestured you to come in, so you did. You placed tray with coffee and snacks on his table. He glanced at you only for a second, before his eyes returned to the screen of his laptop, in that moment some sort of text appeared there, making him jolt, put laptop down and run away. You just stood there, not knowing what to do, you looked between door from which he left, and screen of his computer device, when another text appeared on it, and this time you could read it - "low battery. connect the charger"

Thanks to Alfred, you already knew what charger is, you just have to find it! You looked around, seeing too many wires around the room. You looked at the laptop, and saw too many ports. As you were unsuccessfully trying to find the right wire and right port, laptop's screen went dark. In that moment Tim walked in.

- What did you do?! - he asked almost yelling. Immediately going to the laptop

Nothing! - you panicked, and stepped away. He raised a hand and wave it. Not noticing yor flinch.

- just go, go away! You are messing all up!

If you thought you were shaky after encounter with Damian, this one definitely did.

Judging by Tim's reaction, you broke his computer. You didn't mean to, and you didn't knew if anyone will believe you that you didn't mean to do so. Maybe you'll need to apologize later, but right now, all you wanted is to talk with Alfred or to use up Bruces offer and talk with him if you needed it. In the state of panick you must have took the wrong turn, and bot seeing clearly before yourself, you bumped into Jason, after what you was pushed back and fell down in the process.

- you, little psycho! Don't you dare to touch me! - he yelled, making you flinch. For a second you felt like you was back with your father, pushed around, beaten and yelled at. As you were processing what happened, you didn't hear soft footsteps,

Jay, it was an accident. They just didn't not you - said Richard, trying to calm Jason down -yes, little one? - he said turning to you, but you were already running back to your room.

You cruled up in your blanket, hiding from the world and trying to calm down. You felt like crying. You probably did cry. It was all your fault. You almost broke figurine from Bruces collection, you probably broke Tim's computer, and you made Jason angry, so , Dick too was probably angry at you. Why had you just break thing, make everything worse. Maybe you should talk to Bruce.

--------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ ---------------------

You didn't even notice how you feel asleep for a short time, but when you woke up, you decided to see Bruce, if anyone, he should know how to get allong with boys. And that's what you really wanted, to get along with them, just to feel safe.

The problem however was to find Bruce. You remember Bruce showing you where his cabinet and room was, however, you don't remember where exactly they are. You managed to find Alfred, who gave you a concerned look, but explained you where he was. He also said that all of them were having a movie night - Richard decided that everyone needed at least one bounding day a month, where all of them would gather and do something together. That got you a bit worried, because what if you ruin their movie night just like how you ruined everything today. But maybe you could apologize in front of everyone for being inconvenience and making them angry? You'll have to brace yourself . While thinking about it, you walked through various corridors, until you reached movie room.

There they were: While movie were playing on a big screen they sat on cozy sofa and armchairs. Bruce sat in the armchair, occasionally looking on the boys. You could see smile on his face. Dick sat in the middle of the sofa, watching with enthusiasm and actively commenting on the plot, eating popcorn. On one side if him, putting his head on Dick's shoulder, sat Tim, who was lazily laying on sofa. He sometimes corrected Dick or commented on CGI, whatever it is. On the other side of the Dick sat Damian, who tried to make an impression that he didn't like being here, yet even you could see through his act, and who tried to keep Tim's and Jason's hands away from popcorn. And near Tim, in the corner of sofa sat Jason, who teased Damian and Tim most of the time, argued with Dick on which character is better and successfully stole Dick's popcorn.

You've never seen a sight, that was as warm as this. It felt so warm, so cozy, so homy

It felt like family.

And here you were: in the shadow, not daring to make a step, to come in to join them, to afraid to ruin this perfect moment

You've never had a family in that sense of word, and what you had as a family, you wouldn't dare to call as such. In your family was no warmth, no care. There weren't a moment like this. But you needed them.

After you were taken in my Bruce you found out what care was, but even so it felt like it still was too far away from you, so far that you couldn't reach it. Maybe you didn't deserve it, but you wanted care you wanted love. You wished you could be a part of family you see right now. You want to come in. But you know you can't, you know you will ruin the moment if you will walk in now. You know that Damian will add another threat to a previous one, Jason will yell, Tim will shoosh away, and probably Dick and Bruce will silently agree with them and will say to you to come another time.

Your father is Joker, that's instantly makes you undeserving of care and attention. Well, whay to say if your own mother left you. And as for the batfamily, it's only natural to hate a child of their main enemy.

But what if you can prove you are not like your father? What if love and care are earned, and that's exactly why you didn't get them. When you will have to try and earn it. But for now, all you could do now, is to hide behind the door in another room, listen intently on every sound they make, cry silently, afraid of making any noise so you couldn't ruin the moment and wish you could be with them. Wish you was loved at least once in your life. Wish you were a part of their family.

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Thank you for reading and feel free to share your opinion 💖 have a good day

Author's note 2: I really badly wanna draw Joker's kid. I'd you are interested in my artworks , please let me know

Author's note 3: (1) In one of anonymous asks (here) one user had similar idea of what I had in mind. I hope I've done it good > - < (2) And I wanted to fit this idea from another ask (here) in the plot to, but I couldn't done it fully, I'm sorry T^T

Author's note 4 : to be honest, I have no idea what is tag list and how it works (I'm really sorry, but I'm not active social-media user), but few amazing people asked to tag them, and i hope I'm doing it right: @socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr

[arabellasleopardcoat]

You have no idea how your reblog made me cry. I had forgotten I had written this fic (It's the second I posted, and you can tell by the quality of it) and you caught me in an especially sensistive day. When I wrote it, the only thing I intended was to tackle consent issues in Westeros with a kind partner, and it was right after I watched the episode where Aemond went looking for Aegon in the brothels. The way my skin crawled! Of course men can suffer it too, and I was glad to see it on screen, but I knew they probably wouldn't do it justice, which prompted me to write this. The butchered treatment they gave it in S2 (One could argue the opposite point too, considering it may as well be him going back to his groomer, yet they didn't tell or show that, did they?) vindicated me.

I have never read the ASOIAF books, and I stopped watching the show after the first season, because it was that triggering to me. The amount of violence towards Dany, Brienne, the casual cruelty of men like Tywin and Joffrey, it was enough to kill me a little.

The start of HOTD wasn't promising either. While it depicts sexual violence in a subtler manner, it is still there. Aemma and the horrible opening scene, Alicent and even Helaena and Aemond at some points have made me cry. I have also cried reading fics from these fandoms (Fem!Jon Snow has so fiercely disgusted me sometimes by the things they do to her I have not stopped thinking of it for days) and I found I didn't have the heart to write violence that aligned so much with what I myself suffered. For some readers it can be interesting or freeing, the same for the writers, and I am not here to judge. But it is not for me. And it will never be. I am aware that my writing might not be for everyone either, it's why you will see my fics always properly tagged, and exageratedly so. It is also why I have left other fandoms, which are centered around violence even more than this one.

I just wanted to write what I needed to read at the time. It is also why I will always hold some degree of empathy for show Aemond, despite knowing he is a war criminal. I am interested to see how his relationship with Alys will develop.

To hear that my fic has touched your heart for its themes, and that you didn't think me silly or something for not portraying him as some sort of insensitive, evil person who is absolutely unfeeling means more than you know.

Anyway, sorry for traumadumping (More like ranting) on you. Thank you for reading and for feeling so touched by my words you decided to let me know.

Death in four moves (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Queen Alicent is starting to notice your lack of pregnancy. You discuss it with your husband, and come out a stronger marriage because of it.

A/N: No one dies in this one, guys. Just quoting Tyrion. For a more detailed warning, click read more and scroll until after the dots.

Warnings: Fluff. Discussions of SA, sex, erotic novels, infertility, miscarriages, and pregnancies (None actually happen in the fic)

Catapult /ˈkatəpʌlt/

noun

a forked stick with an elastic band fastened to the two prongs, used by children for shooting small stones.

In Cyvasse, a catapult can take out a dragon.

“It’s the third month you bleed.” Queen Alicent said, with a hint of disapproval. She had perfected just the right amount of passive aggressiveness when being nosy. Your eye twitched slightly. You understood now the resentment Princess Rhaenyra held for her, with your sheets being examined by the Queen daily, your moon’s blood carefully tracked and advised on when the best moment was to conceive. “When will you make me a grandmother?”

You sipped at your tea, buying yourself a few seconds to answer. You were having tea in Haelena’s chambers, a family meeting, if you will. More like an intervention, truly. Alicent sat next to Aegon, who was in his cups already and seemed uncaring about the discussion.

“Mother, you are already a grandmother.” Aemond pointed at the hostess herself, who was on her hands and knees showing a bug to her children. The twins blabbered to her, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the scene. Seated next to Aemond, you gently squeezed his forearm in silent thanks. His lips barely curved up into a smile. Despite his kindness in helping you out, you knew what the Queen’s response would be. It was like you were actors in a well-rehearsed play, one that had been repeating for the past six weeks.

“Yes, but those are your brother’s children. I want you two to make me a grandmother, too.” The Queen explained, smiling at him. The first month, there had been relative peace. Aemond couldn’t have knocked you up that fast, everyone reasoned. Not while still attending to his duties in the way he did. But when the second month came, and the sheets were stained red once more, Alicent had been disappointed.

Being Aemond’s wife was not an easy task. At the rate it was going, you were starting to think it would have been easier, inheritance disputes aside, to be married to Aegon. It was not that Aemond was unkind. On the contrary, he was most amenable. He cared about you, treating you with respect and even making efforts to be friendly. His mother was the problem.

You see, when the time came for Aemond to be married, Queen Alicent had handpicked you, from all the eligible ladies in the realm. The bride for his favorite children had to be perfect. She had had, I kid you not, a list. The girl Aemond married had to be smart, to be able to match him and converse about the topics that interested him, but not too educated, less she had ideas about her role in society. Devout to the Seven, but not superstitious. Brave, but not brazen. Kind, but not overly so, less she was too familiar with those beneath her. Pretty, but not one of those intimidating beauties or too aware of it. A maiden, pure and sweet, but not innocent. And so on, the list went. You weren’t too sure what she had seen in you, but she had decided you were perfect for him.

Aemond, mother’s boy as he was, had been willing to try. And he was pleasantly surprised with you. Yours wasn’t the most passionate of marriages, but you were good friends. He enjoyed your sense of humor, and you two liked the same books. Marriages were built on less. But there was the issue of consummation. Or well. There was no issue, since it hadn’t happened yet.

Neither of you dared tell Alicent that the first night, when you had come to him in your wedding gown, shaking with fear, he had done you the kindness of sitting on the bed with a goblet of wine and pulling out a deck of cards. You remembered clearly the way he had drawled, so effortlessly self-assured “I was uncertain whether you knew how to play Cyvasse, but guessed this was a safe bet.” You had nearly laughed in relief, sitting next to him and explaining you didn’t know how to play it, but cards you could do.

It had gone like that, for three long months. Aemond came to your chambers once a week, and you two played cards or just sat down talking for the whole night. He had even started teaching you Cyvasse. You didn’t mind it. He was an attractive man, your Prince, but you two had been strangers before the wedding. It was sweet, and you were a practical woman. You had all the perks of marrying a prince, and none of the hardships. If this were what your entire life would be like, you could handle it. And you would have, were it not for your mother-in-law.

A knock on the heavy wooden doors jolted you out of your thoughts. The guards announced the Grand Maester.

“Just on time.” Queen Alicent muttered, and became him over with an imperious hand. The old man stepped closer, holding a jar with some dirt? At least to you, it looked like that. The Queen took it from his hands, and opened it, grabbing your tea cup and stirring it into the drink before you could protest.

“Hare liver, pulverized with salmon. I had the maester prepare it for you, dear girl! You will have it at every meal.” Alicent beamed. Your grip on Aemond’s forearm became deathly. Aegon started laughing, before flinching suddenly. You weren’t able to tell if the one who had kicked him under the table had been your husband or your mother-in-law.

“I truly think there is no…” Aemond started to say, before getting interrupted.

“It is said to aid conception.” The Grand Maester bowed. His tone showed he wanted to be anywhere else but here, trapped between Alicent’s hopeful look, Aegon’s amusement and your indignant glare. His urge to leave was evident, not even flinching at the glare Aemond directed him for interrupting.

“Thank you, my Queen.” You answered, graciously. “Thank you as well, Grand Maester.” The man bowed again and exited the room. You eyed your now ruined tea, and Alicent. Her smile didn’t waver. You could tell she was waiting for you to drink it, and so, you smiled back and brought it to your lips.

It had to be the most foul concoction you had ever tasted. It was fishy and oily and oh so salty. You nearly spat it out, but controlled yourself, digging your nails into Aemond’s arm until he squirmed in pain. Aegon laughed again, before nearly choking in his haste to speak.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” While he laughed, you quickly took his cup and intended to drink his wine to get the taste out of your mouth. He made a grab for the wine, but so did Alicent.

“I read wine could harm conception.” She explained, passing it back to Aegon, who gave you a superior smirk.

“Mother, please. She looks like she is about to throw up.” Aemond pleaded and took the cup again. Aegon protested, but he brought the cup to your lips, urging you to drink from it. “Let her have it.”

“Aemond, I’m trying to help you both.” Alicent huffed. You quickly drank, less she tried grabbing the cup again. “We should do all that the books said. I have been reading on the topic, and I assure you…”

“I read…” Aegon interrupted loudly, giving you a wink. You knew he was about to do something disruptive, and that he would hold it over both yours and Aemond’s head for letting you escape. “Female pleasure is of the utmost importance for the woman to fall pregnant. So tell me, brother. Have you been pleasuring our dear…”

“Aegon!” Alicent yelled, slamming a hand over his mouth. “How can you say such things, with your children in the room? By the Seven, what will your brother’s wife think? That we are a family of…”

Aemond grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room.

“You have to tell her.” You said, as soon as you were outside. He was gently pulling you along towards the gardens. “I’m not drinking anymore of that stuff. And careful, or else I will ask her to give you some too.” It had been the last straw. Your sheets being checked, you could take. Her not so subtle nudges towards laying with your husband on certain days, you could too. But being prohibited wine, and forced to take the concoction with every meal, was not something you were willing to do. Not when it was not an issue of fertility, but of the lack of… Intimate relations between you two.

“I don’t want to disappoint her.” It was said quietly, but it broke your heart. You took his hand and squeezed. One of the things you disliked about your new life was the amount of pressure Aemond was under. He had quickly become your best friend, and you liked to think you were his too. It hurt you, to see how much he pushed himself and how the nerves and worries ate him away. You knew perhaps he didn’t return your feelings, which had been steadily growing since the chaste kiss you had shared in the Sept, and all the sleepless nights spent playing games and talking, but you loved him. And it always hurt, when those you loved were in pain.

“I doubt you will. She loves you. Just because you would rather not be a father yet…” You smiled at him, trying to sound sure of yourself. In truth, you knew the Queen would be disappointed. She so wanted Aemond to be a father. He was her favorite. A baby from him would be a dream come true.

“I do want to be a father.” It was said very quietly, almost a confession. You turned towards him, unable to believe your ears. Aemond was pointedly looking towards a bush of roses, not making eye contact. His posture, normally so perfect, was a bit slouched, as if trying to curl into himself. Ashamed. He was no fool, to not be aware of your feelings, so that meant…

“Oh.” You blinked. It felt like something shattered inside you. It was not children he disliked, but you. A few tears sprang to your eyes, but you blinked them back, determined. You wanted him to be happy, even if not with you. Lowering your eyes, so he didn’t see your heartbroken expression, you answered.“Oh. Well. I’m still a maiden. We could ask the High Septon for an annulment.”

Aemond turned to look at you, bewildered. Then, a scowl took over his face, purple eye narrowing in anger.

“Annulment? Why would I want that? Is that what you want, an annulment?” His voice was starting to raise, slightly. You shushed him, frantically. But he kept going, stepping closer, hands grasping roughly at your shoulders. Aemond forced you to look him in the eyes. “You dislike me that much?”

“No. No. But if you are not attracted to me…” A few tears fell down your cheeks. You hated it. You didn’t want him to think you were manipulating him. It was distasteful, your mother had always said. Crying for a man to stay, it was not behavior befitting of you. “A lady should never beg for any man to stay. Not even a Prince.” She had always said, and you tried to live by it. But she had clearly never met Aemond.

Aemond’s lips pursed in the way they did when he was thinking about something deeply. Was he actually considering your offer? The thought made more tears spring to your eyes. He looked torn. So, this was it, you were going back home. Annulment and ruin. No one would believe you a maiden with Alicent’s efforts, with how often Aemond visited your rooms. Who in their right mind would think two young newlyweds were spending their nights playing cards and board games? It stung, to think you had had one job, and you had failed. Bed your husband. Produce children. Any child, not even a boy. It was meant to be easy. You were a failure.

Before your thoughts could spiral even further, towards becoming a Septa and watching the man you loved marry another, Aemond surprised you. With a shaking hand, he brushed your tears away.

“It’s not that, either. I like you. I might even love you.” Aemond’s eye doesn’t meet yours, and it’s only that what halts your heart from roaring in happiness. You frown, rubbing at your temples. A headache is starting. Why must everything be so difficult? He is saying the words you have longed to hear for weeks, yet… Something is off.

“You can say that you don’t like me. It’s alright.” Perhaps it is dishonesty. Perhaps he is only saying it, so you don’t feel bad. Aemond is considerate like that, never wanting to upset your feelings.

Aemond glares, giving you a stern look, as if daring you to try to explain his own feelings to himself. You shrink slightly.

“No. I like you, truly. It’s just that….” He trails off, and you want to scream out in frustration. Your temper is starting to rise, too.

“What? If you are so attracted to me, you should find it easy to bed me.” You spit out, almost daring him to contradict you.

“Nothing is that simple.” Aemond says, rolling his eye. You feel the urge to shake him, but you don’t. You are a Princess now. A Princess would not shake her Prince husband, no matter how foolish he acts. You breathe in, then out. Your response comes out, tersely.

“Love is a simple thing. It’s us who insist on complicating everything.”

“It is not my love for you, what makes me hesitate. First times can be…” And at that, you almost laugh in relief. So, that is what makes him hesitate? Fear of hurting you?

“Painful? I know, but I trust you.” You grab his hands in yours and look up at him, trying to showcase your sincerity. Your eyes are wide and earnest. But Aemond pulls out of your grasp, frustrated.

“'Tis I, who doesn’t trust you.”

You recoil, immediately pulling back. Your mother had always said you were a kind girl if a bit self-centered. And it was showing. You had never thought yourself the source of his worries, or had you ever thought he could think you're capable of hurting him.

“Aemond…” It comes out in a broken little sob. You knew people said things in fits of anger they didn’t mean, but you could tell he meant this. He didn’t trust you with his body.

Aemond tangles his hands in his hair, messing it up.

“Not like that. Just… You come to me pure, but I’m not. I have laid with a woman before.” It only makes you more confused. You are trying not to make assumptions, but it is a strange thing to say. It’s expected, especially for a man of his station. You wouldn’t have dared demand purity from him, in the way men demanded it from their wives. It was natural, even. Your positions in life were different. No one, not even the Queen herself, chided a man for his lack of chastity.

“Alright. I don’t mind it.” You answer, tentatively. You really hope, this time, you get it right. But the silence that follows is defeating.

Aemond’s hands ball into fists by his side. He loosens them, before balling them again. He is trying to hide their trembling from you, you realize. A pit forms in your stomach, knowing that whatever he is about to tell you, it’s bad. Something so terrible it might be better to not even speak it aloud. You have seen this man get into fights with his nephews, spitting out the worst slurs. You have seen him defeated by Ser Criston, beaten up, bruised badly. You have seen him hurt by his father's lack of care, cast aside in favor of others. But never once, never once, shaking in the way he is now. It terrifies you.

You don’t dare touch him, or comfort him in any way, when he is trying to calm down so hard. His breath is shallow, posture hunched, as if trying to fight the instinct to flight.

“It was not a good experience. I… I fear it would be like that, between us, and taint our marriage.” Aemond says, very quietly. His eye looks watery, his mouth set into a grim line. As if about to cry. You can tell, that whatever happened, it was much worse than what he says.

“Oh.” It’s all you can say. It had not crossed your mind, that it wasn’t you what repelled him, but the act itself. You long to hug him, but can tell touch is not what he wants, right now. You remember then, all the times he evaded touches from others, so skillfully. The ducking of an arm when Aegon tries to hug him, turning it into play fighting and roughhousing. How he never initiates affection with the Queen or Haelena. How he has never touched you, apart from a pat on the arm or holding your hand. Or how his palms get so sweaty when he has to do it. How he has not kissed you since your wedding. Perhaps, even the fact that he is always dressed in clothes that cover him completely.

Never having thought about it before, his quirks start to make sense in a way you don’t want them to. It hurts, to think of him being hurt in such a way. It is not something you had thought could happen to a man, but it makes too much sense to ignore. Whatever cloud appears in your eyes, it’s too much for Aemond to handle.

“Oh.” He mocks you, chucking your chin. It’s a gesture meant to put your mind at ease, show you that this is not an unsavable obstacle. You are thankful to him for it, even if it comes at the cost of being the butt of the joke that’s not even funny, much less with the topic you are discussing. But you can pretend for him. You smile, softly.

“Do you wish to speak about it?”

“Perhaps some other day."

Dragon /ˈdraɡ(ə)n/

noun

a mythical monster resembling a giant reptile, sometimes shown as having wings. In European tradition, the dragon is typically fire-breathing and tends to symbolize chaos or evil, whereas in East Asia it is usually a beneficent symbol of fertility, associated with water and the heavens.

In Cyvasse, a dragon can remove elephants from the board.

Aemond pulls down the screen dividing the board. He gives you a smug little look, laying down on the bed only in his sleep shirt. You try hard not to stare, focusing instead on the pieces on the board.

Your catapults are gone, and only your elephants remain. He has captured your King with a Dragon. It’s an odd move. You either are not remembering right or he is cheating.

“That’s cheating! You said the dragon could only move…” You start to complain, frowning at him.

“Diagonally, which is right.” He answers very calmly, looking at you in expectation. You examine the board from all angles, noting that he is right, and he has not cheated. Unless playing with a greatly disadvantaged player is cheating because in that case, Aemond most definitely is.

You take a deep breath and lay down next to him, forgetting the board. Oh, you can feel his pride at having bested you, even without looking at him. And of course, he keeps shifting on the bed, jostling you, lest you forget what you have to do. It’s the customary price, after all. A way to encourage to actually pay attention to his instructions about how the game is played, but also a way for a young couple to start getting to know each other. Your cheeks heat up immediately, when you decide what you will say. You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly and mumble so low, it can barely be heard over the crackling fire that lights up the room.

“Fine. As a young girl, I used to steal my father’s dagger and make other children knights with it. I loved playing Queen.”

Aemond laughs, a deep, sincere laugh. His eye crinkles at the corner, a pair of tiny dimples making themselves known. You like how true laughter lights up his face, you decide. It’s cute, but not something that often happens.

“That must have been adorable, wife.” Aemond smiles at you, boyishly. He is about to tease you, you know it. Your heart melts just a little more. “I apologize for being but a lowly Prince.” You start to laugh, but the laughter dies in your throat with his next words. “Perhaps I can indulge you.”

You rush to correct the treasonous words, scared. Aemond is an ambitious man, you have known that from the start. Just as ambitious as he is dutiful, your husband. But you can’t help but wonder if in this case, ambition outweighs the duty he feels towards his family. You don’t know him enough to make a judgment yet. So very gently, with your pulse ringing loud in your ears, you speak.

“I like Aegon. No matter if he is a drunk fool, sometimes. And your father is pretty boring, but alright. And Princess Rhaenyra." You don't say anything positive about her, not when you had learned through this same technique she had demanded Aemond was punished after losing his eye. If you had a chance, you would strangle her. But only a little. Otherwise, it would be treason, and it would be setting the wrong example. Queen Alicent always told you it was best to lead with your actions, and not only your words.

Aemond smiles, pushing your shoulder lightly.

"Not like that.” He complains, but gives you a long look regardless. You know he has noticed your slip, referring to Rhaenyra as an afterthought and only after Aegon. He knows now, without you having told him, what your thoughts on succession are. He is perceptive like that. “I was thinking more along the lines of crowning you my Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“You never compete in tourneys, husband.”

“For you, I would. If you wished to be Queen, for you, I would.” And it feels like Aemond is promising something else, something more than just being the one to get a crown of pretty flowers. It scares you a little, to be the focus of such devotion. Such honeyed words, too, which you know are unusual for him. The urge to kiss him is strong, but his confession, a few days backs, still weighs heavily between you too. He has definitely noticed you are more careful with your touches now. Still playful, but giving ample time to pull away. Yet, you can’t leave him hanging either. Not when Aemond is trying so hard for you two to work.

“I would, too. You would look handsome, with a flower’s crown.” And thinking yourself so sly, you slide your hand underneath his, laughing. Aemond laughs too, and pulls you towards him, trying to get you to put your head on his chest. You do so eagerly, listening to his heartbeat. At first, it is rushed, and he remains stiff, despite being the one to initiate the embrace. But slowly, Aemond relaxes and starts carding a hand through your hair. You think it feels much like what heaven must feel like.

The motion lulls you to that state between sleep and consciousness, where your head feels fuzzy and full of cotton, and your movements are sluggish. It feels like a dream, the way the shadows dance on the wall, and how his heart pounds steadily under you. You wish you could sink into him, fuse the two of you, as the Maesters of old said soulmates were. Nestle close to his heart, curl around it with greedy little hands, protect him from the world. Your eyelids drop, despite your fight to stay awake. Aemond smiles down at you, amused, and runs his hand over the slope of your nose, tracing the contours of your face. You scrunch your face at him, about to scold him for disturbing you, when he speaks. At first, it doesn’t make sense to you. And then, you realize.

“I was thirteen. Aegon took me to a brothel. I…” It feels like being stabbed, over and over again, tiny sparks of pain in your chest. In your mind’s eye, you can see him. A slightly younger version of Daeron, perhaps with longer hair. A big, purple eye, the other side of his face freshly scarred. Tiny. Terrified. And that you know because you know his growth spurt didn’t hit until he was fifteen, courtesy of your cyvasse games. You also know he was painfully shy and quiet, the product of a childhood filled with mockery and neglect. That, too, he had shared, after a game you knew Aemond had lost deliberately, feeling you were losing more embarrassing stories than he was sharing. Still, you hadn’t minded.

It hurts to think of your awfully kind husband being taken against his will. You doubt, had you been him, you could have survived it. Being violated so… It aches so bad, tears start filling your eyes. But you do not speak, less you break the spell and Aemond clams back up.

“I… I didn't want you to think I was weak. You are one of the loveliest things I have had, in a long time.” He says, voice breaking slightly. You shift in his grip, and look him right in the eye.

“You are not weak.” You enunciate, clearly and slowly. And you hope your sincerity shines through your eyes because you do believe it. Unable to speak a word, silenced as he was by shame, you think you would have broken much earlier. That Aemond stands, whole, before you and speaks the words aloud after so much time, says leagues about his character.

“I was meant to come out of it a man. It went…wrong.” He tries explaining, but you shake your head.

“You were not in the wrong.” You make a mental note to try to strangle Aegon later. You had known he was a… Interesting character, to say it kindly. But this… This took the cake on reckless, thoughtless behavior. He was at least three years older than Aemond, yet he had not half the sense his brother posses. Perhaps, your husband is better suited to be king. After living three months with the Targaryens, you were starting to doubt their closeness to gods. You stomp down your personal grievances, knowing Aemond needs love, not rage.

“May I hug you?” You ask, softly. Aemond laughs, a little watery, and pulls you on top of him. He hides his face in your hair, sobbing softly. You fantasize of killing half the whores of Flea Bottom, Aegon, Viserys and perhaps Alicent, too. You fall asleep like that, limbs entangled with each other and forgoing your ritual of messing up the room and your appearances. Despite it, the next morning, the maids who find you are more convinced than ever before of your closeness.

Elephant /ˈɛlɪf(ə)nt/

noun

a very large plant-eating mammal with a prehensile trunk, long curved ivory tusks, and large ears, native to Africa and southern Asia. It is the largest living land animal.

In Cyvasse, each player has multiple elephants.

It takes you a few sleepless nights to try to find a solution to your problem. Despite being praised often for how learned and bright you were, you couldn’t find an answer to your questions. You see, you have always been a planner. You tackled your concerns by doing research about them and then coming up with an action plan. But there was no research to be done here. You had to work with the facts.

You knew Aemond was not willing to confess to his mother. Nor were you about to betray his trust. But she would keep pressuring, for you to fall pregnant. You could buy time, faking an illness or perhaps even a pregnancy followed with a miscarriage. Yet, you had been chosen not only as Aemond’s companion, but to bring the next generation of Targaryens to the world. And both of you wanted children. He was too proud for letting you get pregnant and pass the baby as his own. Not with the situation with his nephews.

So. You were back to square one. You had to find a way for both of you to have children, and not traumatize Aemond about it. And get Alicent off your back. Research. You could do research about how a lady ended up with a child.

You poured long hours over medicine treaties and concluded this: It was not his member that had to go inside you, but his seed. It would also be useful if you broke your maidenhead in some way, less you ended up trying to give birth still a virgin. So, in theory, Aemond didn’t need to enter you. Just collect his seed, and perhaps you could pour it inside you with a jar or something. Still, you put that thought on the back burner, as a plan b. Oftentimes, the best solution was not the most complex one, and so, you had to at least try to perform intimacy with you. But you didn’t want him to suffer, and so, you decided to approach one of your maids about it.

“Dyana.” You said, as the girls were unlacing your gown and unpinning your hair for bed. “Stay.”

It was low, what you were about to do. But you knew of none else who had gone through something similar. Dyana had been appointed as your maid after having the unwelcome attentions of Aegon on her. There was nothing that could be done, not when the King was so ill, Alicent had told you. She wouldn’t subject him to having to pass judgment on his own son, not in his state. And besides, there had been no harm done, with the girl not falling pregnant. At the time, you hadn’t questioned it. Now, it made you sick to think your brother-in-law, who was always supportive of you in front of his mother, could have hurt her in such a way.

Dyana stayed behind, brushing your hair in front of the vanity. The other maids scurried out in a flock of dresses and chatter. You met her eyes through the mirror, in low candlelight. She was the Targaryen kind of pretty, with hair so blonde it almost looked like theirs. Perhaps that had attracted Aegon.

“I understand you were forcefully subjected to Prince Aegon’s… Advances.” You said, once you were alone. Dyana was very tense, obviously reminding the last time she had been alone with a member of the royal family. You decided to spare her the anxiety over what you wanted, if any, to make this shameful act you were committing a bit less traumatizing. “I have questions about it, from woman to woman.”

The brush clattered to the floor. Dyana’s eyes turned from anxious to terrified. She was frozen, unable to bend down and pick it up. You turned in your stool, to reassure her.

“I'm not going to punish you. I don’t want to know about the act, or reprimand you or blame you.”

Dyana bent down to pick up the brush. Her shoulders remained tense.

“I only want to ask a question. And you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to… But if you do, I will reward you handsomely.” You tried putting her at ease, using a soft voice. Much like with Aemond, you stuck to not sudden moves and no touching. To show her that you were serious, you pulled a handful of gold dragons, letting them clatter on your vanity’s table, next to the bottles of expensive lotions and perfumes Aemond had bought you. “But my husband can never know. No one can ever know.”

Dyana raised her head at the sound. She looked at the gold, and stood, anxiously wringing her hands together.

“Milady… That’s a lot of gold for a question.” Dayna’s eyes were fixed on the ground.

“It’s an important question. It requires utmost secrecy.” You answered, handing her half. “For keeping this conversation private, even if you would rather not answer me.”

Dyana took the gold, quickly hiding it inside her pocket. She seemed to fear you were playing a joke on her and would take the gold away at any time. You didn’t blame her, with how badly she had been treated so far. Keeping her waiting would be even more cruel than what you had already done, and so, you asked.

“How do you trust again, after it?” It was a clumsily worded questions, asked in a rush and in a single breath. It came out more like “Howdoyoutrustagain, after… It.” Not the most dignified wording, either. You were supposed to be eloquent, smart. Yet, you were floundering as an overzealous child.

“I…” She had clearly understood, by the look on her face, but didn’t know what to say. How to approach it. Dayna stepped closer, scrutinizing your face. Searching. But for what?

“How can you lay with a man again?” You repeated, trying to sound a bit more self-assured and narrowing down your line of questioning. You knew she was currently in a relationship with a stable boy. He always picked her up on the nights you and Aemond were supposed to bed each other.

Dayna looked at you, expression doing a full one eighty. Her eyes stopped being frightened and turned sad. One of her hands went again to brush your hair, almost in comfort.

“It is not the same man. And. Um. Never in the same way, my lady. He asks. All the time. And not like…” She trailed off, concerned. You didn’t notice, too busy committing her advice to memory. “My lady, you should really speak to the Queen….”

At those words, your head jerked up. Why did she bring up Alicent? Did she really think you could ask her about intimate relationships? Unless… She thought Aemond was… Oh, by the Seven, that was even worse.

“Aemond is not mistreating me. But my cousin’s husband is. I just don’t know what to tell her, having been so lucky.” You lied, trying to sound as convincing as you could. But you knew she wasn’t believing a word out of your mouth.

“Can they mend things?” Dyana asked, and it was obvious she didn’t buy that you were asking for a friend.

“From what I gather.” You answered, tersely. Of that, you were certain. Aemond liked you enough to at least try. You would consult him first, making sure he was not uncomfortable with the idea, but you knew he felt the grains of sand on both your clocks draining, as you did. Time was something you didn’t have. But Dyana didn’t know any of that. She was asking you, even if covertly, if you thought your husband could not be a brute. It showed, in the way her eyes filled with pity.

“Tell her to ask him to be soft. And… Not that, right away.” Dyana blushed, lowering her eyes in embarrassment. You gave her a puzzled glance, confused. If not intimacy, right away, what did she mean? Kissing? “Go slow, do something else….”

“Like?” You tilted your head to the side, hoping for a clarification.

“Mouth. Fingers.” The girl looked like she was about to hide under the table from embarrassment. And truly, it was a bit strange. An unmarried maid teaching a lady about intimacy.

“Oh.” You frowned. Dayna squeezed your shoulder, with very soft hands. “Thank you.”

King /kɪŋ/

noun

the male ruler of an independent state, especially one who inherits the position by right of birth.

In Cyvasse, the goal is to kill the King.

Your research had led you to A Caution For Young Girls. A popular novel between the common folk and that had costed you great effort to acquire. The plan had included a horse, a chicken, Aegon, and a copy of the Seven Pointed Star you had had to defile. You prayed that the Seven forgave you, both for reading such dirty tales and for destroying a copy of their sacred book to hide the book you were really reading. That day, even Queen Alicent had mistaken your newfound devotion for the Seven for a lady praying for a child and had pointed to you as an example for Aegon. In truth, you had been on your knees before the effigy of the Mother begging for forgiveness, and not a child.

It had been for a better cause, you told yourself. If truly were the gods who gave the Targaryens their right to rule, it meant they were favored among the rest of the men. Surely, finding a way to procure a child to one of the most pious, gentle Princes the realm had to offer justified your actions. Surely, Aemond’s devotion made up for your sins, or at least, the seven prayers you had recited under each of their effigies did. Surely, right?

Besides, it wasn’t like you were doing something bad. Literature is meant to open the mind. That’s why yours and Aemond’s studies had been encouraged from a young age. And the novel had certainly opened your mind to new ways of being intimate. You had no clue there were so many ways one could use their mouth, fingers, and openings. And if you had felt aroused by reading it… Literature was meant to be enjoyed, too.

So, the next time you and Aemond were alone, you said there was something you needed to talk to him about. You brought out your notes, and took the Cyvasse board away from the table, placing your research there instead. Aemond’s eyebrows raised at seeing you pull out such an amount of parchment, yet he said nothing.

“You want to be a father. I want to be a mother. We are married. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I have researched for two possible ways of achieving it. Watch…” You pulled out a diagram, crudely drawn. You grabbed a stick, much like the one your Septa used to teach you when you were a child, and were about to start explaining, when Aemond interrupted.

“Is that supposed to be…” Aemond had the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks. He cleared his throat, awkwardly. “A… Um… Is that…?”

“Yes, now shut up. I’m trying to explain my plan.” You answered, not even the slightest bit ashamed. Couldn’t he see you were explaining your research? “You see, we don’t actually need to have any kind of sexual contact for me to fall pregnant. We just need to insert your seed…” It was said in a very clinical manner, but Aemond interrupted, again.

“Wife, I know how conception works.” Now he was fully blushing, and you frowned. It was not your intention to make him uncomfortable, so you decided to go straight to the point.

“Alright, so we will skip that part. Fine. We have two options. You either pleasure yourself and spill in a jar, or we build up to intimacy. I researched the way to make that the least traumatizing for you as possible, too.”

Aemond looked at you, for one long second. The silence stretched, and you worried this was going to end up with losing him in the most painful way you could imagine. Your blooming relationship, dead by your tactless hand. Aemond stared some more, his eye narrowed. Then, he burst out laughing. You felt so embarrassed you hoped the earth would open up and swallow you whole.

The both of you stayed like that. Aemond laughing so hard tears sprang from his eyes, and you, diagram still in hand, with what Aemond would later swear was the cutest pout he had ever seen.

“This has to be both the sweetest and strangest thing someone has ever done for me.” He finally said, drying his tears.

“You are not mad? Or hurt?” You asked, eyeing him a bit suspiciously, but with a smile of your own.

“Come here.” Aemond widened his stance, and you stepped closer, giving in to his unspoken request for you to stand between his parted legs. With a touch so light, it might not even be there, Aemond tilted your head down and kissed you. You felt as if the world stopped, for a minute. The kiss was clumsy, with him sitting and you standing but you could swear it was the kind of kiss the poets wrote about. You let him lead you, reminding Dyana’s advice, and you could feel the way he smiled against your mouth for it.

“I made my decision.” Aemond said, as you pulled away to take some well-needed breaths of air. Your mind felt like mush, with how dizzying the kiss had been. You had not a single clue what he was talking about.

“Huh?”

“We will try to have the children the normal way. I can learn to trust you enough for it.” And it felt like your heart was singing, with how happy you were. You smiled brightly at him. It was an honor that he was willing to trust you that much, that he was willing to try. You knew, were you him, you would have hesitated more. Aemond was a brave man, you had to give it to him.

You wanted to kiss him silly. But you had promised yourself to keep things at his pace, were he to choose this path. And so, you asked.

“Hug?”

Aemond laughed, and pulled you closer, burying his face on your chest. You hugged back, holding him.

“So, what did your research say? About building up intimacy?” Aemond shifted, looking up at you, purple eye shining with mirth. You spluttered, slapping his shoulder. He laughed again. “You know, in all seriousness… The Seven have given me a strange woman. But I wouldn’t change you for anything.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

Detailed warning: Aemond confesses to the reader that the reason they haven’t had sex yet is not a lack of desire but a bit of fear, and describes what happened to him when he was thirteen. The reader does her research and presents it to him, crudely, but he is touched by her gesture.

As a fellow SA survivor, I hope I have managed to portray the struggle to trust a partner again in a manner that is both tasteful and fluffy, with an adequate dose of humor and awkwardness. Writing Honesty raised a few thoughts on the matter of consent in Westeros. I never got to finish GOT because of the same issue. My heart ached for Aemond during the brothel scene, and I wondered about it a lot. I have yet to see it portrayed in any fanfiction. I apologize in advance if it made anyone uncomfortable.

[wassupmygays]

maybe hot take but i LOVEEE a mean paul. get this boy some therapy

ty cole now i need to see ur Paul immediately

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x wife!reader

Summary: A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: reader and James have a newborn baby (named Harry), mentions of death, murder, blood, violence,

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

The clock reads midnight and still no one has heard from any of them.

You're sitting on the couch, your head in your hands. Lily crouches by your legs, her delicate hands resting on your knee as she rubs soothing circles around them, attempting to match your breathing so she can help you.

Naturally, you have taken this the hardest. 

"They'll be alright," Lily whispers as if she can promise you that all will be okay, but her voice is distant.

The only person you can hear is him. His voice rings in your mind, the way he sounds when he says your name, when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

You can feel his hand in yours, the way his lips brushed your cheek, and the only thing you imagine when you look up is the front door opening wide and seeing him walk in, with only a few superficial scratches. 

But the door doesn't move and instead, the room is silent. 

It's been hours. It was supposed to be quick. That's what James had said when he kissed your head and said you he loved you. He hadn't even said goodbye to the baby.

"It's an easy mission, nothing dangerous—they're probably lost, you know how Sirius is," Marlene says from her side of the room as if that makes any of this better. 

"You don't know that," you snap and stand up, pacing the room. You look at your friends, their solemn faces only making this worse. You can't stand their sadness, or even worse their pity. "Just—leave me alone—" your voice comes out hoarse, running up the creaky wooden stairs of you and James's little home in Godric's Hollow.

You hold your breath, turning the corner into the nursery where baby Harry should be sleeping soundly; unaware that his father isn't home. 

It's as it should be, you reminded yourself, gently creeping inside. He is just a baby. He shouldn't worry. You'll make sure he never had to worry. You lean over the crib, picking your son up into your arms. He's all bundled up so the movement doesn't wake him. 

"Oh, James," you mutter, feeling the warm tears fall but you hold them in for Harry's sake. This wasn't normal. Something felt wrong. "Where are you?" you ask into the darkness of the room, a line of moonlight from outside gently shines onto Harry's sleeping face.

You've always found it fascinating how much he can look like his father at only one years old and you wonder if that will carry on into his childhood. 

"He looks like a wrinkled pickle," James had said the day of Harry's birth, his arm wrapped around you as you leaned your sweaty head on his bicep, breathing deeply from exhaustion. Your husband had somehow managed to squeeze himself onto the small hospital cot, his hip pressed against yours as he glanced down at the infant pressed against your bare chest. "Ugly little pickle," he muttered, the lovesick smile on his face betraying his true opinion. 

"James," you'd scolded weakly. You're much too exhausted to look up as you keep your baby pressed against your bare breasts, calming him with your breathing.   

"You're beautiful, my love," James said, kissing your hairline. "You did so well. So brave and strong."

You laughed, his voice soothing you. 

"I just know our little pickle is gonna grow up just as handsome as his dad, ain't that right, bud?" James had teased, talking to the infant as if he could hear him. You rolled your eyes, simply letting the warmth of the two boys you loved the most lull you to sleep. 

Harry suddenly begins to stir, his little eyes blinking open and you instantly rock him. "Shh, baby, go back to sleep," you whisper, feeling horrible for waking him up. 

Harry doesn't cry. He looks at you in the darkness. He blinks a few times and then as if on cue, begins to wail. It's as if he can sense your sadness and all he can do with the emotion is cry. You feel horrible, sliding against the crib as you sit up, holding Harry up, as you rock him a little harder. 

"Oh, please, honey," you plead, holding him against your knees as you touch the little tufts of curly hair on his little forehead. You hope none of your friends hear him and give them a reason to check on you. "Please, my lovely, sleep. It's okay. Daddy will be home soon, okay?" 

You say it mostly to calm yourself down, knowing that it will in turn calm your son. You breathe, holding in more tears as you think of James. Where is he? You press a kiss on Harry's head once his cries have ceased.

You aren't sure how much time has passed as you sit on the floor, your eyes tired from crying as your baby sleeps soundly in your arms. The sounds of your friends have drowned into the background. You're having the most horrible dream as you drift to sleep, having cried exhaustion into your body. 

James is gone. He's gone and you can't reach him. 

You shift, your body unconsciously keeping Harry in your arms as your mind plagues you with horrible images. You can almost feel James's palm on your hand, his breath on your skin as he calls your name. 

But he's gone. He's dead.

"My darling," his voice rings in your ears, hoarse and broken. "Wake up." James's calloused fingers touch your cheek, a wetness you don't recognize seeping into your skin and your eyes widen. You're met with James's piercing brown eyes and he forces a strained smile. 

"Hi," he whispers.

Without thinking, you sit up through your haze and almost let Harry slip from your arms. Luckily, James scoots closer, trapping you in between his legs as he holds Harry to his chest, supporting your arms too. Harry wakes up again, his sleep schedule severely messed up as he begins to cry again and your heart breaks. 

"Hi pickle," James whispers, careful only to touch the outside of Harry's blanket with his bloodied hands. You blink, staring at the awful state your husband is in, which even in the moonlight you can tell he's covered in ash and blood, his face littered insuperficial cuts and bruises— still, he's alive. 

"James—" you whimper, touching his cheek gently. "What happened? Where were you? I was worried sick—" You squirm out of his legs and stand, taking Harry from him as you look for your son's favorite pacifier.

Once you've found it, you place it in Harry's mouth and set him back in his crib to fall asleep. You turn, grabbing your wand, and enchanting his crib mobile. Harry seems calmer now and you take James's wrist gently, pulling him out into the hallway. 

You'd already disturbed your poor baby enough.

After closing the nursery door, you turn the light on, placing your wand in the back pocket of your jeans as you look him over. His shirt is bloodied and there's a gash, but the wound has been healed. "Remus healed me. We were ambushed—we barely got away and I- they had to heal me before we came home. I wouldn't let him take me home to you in the state I was in," James says. 

Tears brim in your eyes. 

"But, I'm okay now," he says and lifts his hand as if he wants to hold your cheek but he doesn't since there is still dried blood on his hands. Instead, he smiles at you. "I'm sorry you were so worried. Lily told me you were inconsolable."

You scoff, sniffling as you wrap your arms around his chest. You inhale his scent, holding in more sobs as relief overtakes you. "Of course I was worried, you fool," you pause and sniffle, "I was scared you'd never come home."

James wraps his arms around you. "I will always come home to you and Harry. Always, okay?" 

You nod, resting your ear against your chest as you hold him. He sighs and rests his chin on your head, rubbing your back. "I'm gonna take a shower and you should go to bed, I'll tell you everything in the morning, okay?" 

You shake your head, holding him tighter. You just want to be close to him. You don't want to let him out of your sight.

James can tell and he kisses your head. "Okay, okay, my love. I'm not going anywhere," he says in a whisper and he sighs, "I never want to be away from you again."

[ihaznoclue]

You're not like other people [Part 2]

Looks like people wanted part 2 and I'm all here for it >:>

Part 2 of you're not like other people (Shadow x Reader)

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Warnings -> Maybe a little bit of violence, Panic attack, Family issues

Note -> Not everything is perfect until your abusive family finds you but fear not! Shadow is there to protect you like he promised

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

Shadow the Hedgehog

It has now been a couple of weeks since Shadow has been found by you, Shadow was a huge help around the house as he helped do the dishes with you

Cleaned with you

Made the beds with you

Swept the floors with you

He also learned on how to do the washing by himself

You loved his company and he loved yours

You and him were going so well together as his trust for you start to rise as he started to like you more and more as you showed your sweetness towards him which you'd did the moment you found him on the ground in the grass field

Shadow was loving it here, the peace and quiet and that nothing was going to bother you two

But Shadow still has yet to know your past and the truth about you, your past was terrible and you never wanted to live how you lived when you were younger

Your abusive family hated you with their guts as they always loved to call you the 'mistake'

The 'mistake' that caused the family to go down hill the moment you were born, but you weren't spoiled like your siblings nor loud like them

They just hated you because you were sensitive and quiet and that you didn't do anything to stick up for yourself

So that gave them a reason to cause your childhood a living hell

By the time you turned 20, you ran away. You did some jobs along the way until you saved up enough money to live on your own and have a little peace for yourself without anyone hurting you or causing chaos

You loved it, you loved not having to get hit or hurt for making the smallest mistakes

Then you found Shadow and he helped you ever since he started to like you, he helped so much you always had free time to do something for yourself

Shadow was there to help and protect you like a delicate flower, a flower that is worth protecting and saving for

Today was a lovely day as you went out to pick some flowers that was near your house, Shadow was just in the house doing some last minutes chores to finish once you get back

You were out for a while and that caused Shadow fur to stick up, it always did that when danger was around. He immediately went out to go looking for, you said you were just going to pick up some flower to decorate your house a bit.

But you were out for nearly 2 hours. He began to shout for you by screaming out your name, the flower field was not far from here so he used chaos control to teleport there to only find you and a bunch of random people.

He didn't know that they were your abusive family trying to get you back, he saw a man stomping up to you as he slapped you across the face.

Shadow snarled as his quills stuck up, he then used one last teleportation to teleport right in front of you causing the woman to scream who was your mother

"Ew! What is that ugly looking creature!?" You huffed as you rolled your eyes

Shadow's ears flicked at that but it didn't bother him one bit as he is used to name calling

His ear was pinned flat as he snarled at the people "I am Shadow, the ultimate life-form. If I see you hurting Y/N again, you will regret it" Shadow huffed as he growled

Your mum was terrified as your father was in shock, your mother started to pull your father away as he started to shout at you

"You will regret leaving this family, DO YOU HEAR! If it wasn't for that thing, I wouldn't of dragged you myself! You were a mistake! A MISTAKE!" Your father shouted once more

You were trying so hard to not cry, not in front of Shadow who was now worried for you as he clung his hand to your pants, his ears were still flat on his head to show that he was worried for you

The wind blew, moving the flowers around you and causing your hair to swoosh behind you as your eyes teared up a little

"Let's go back home-" You said as you plastered a fake smile on your face

Shadow nodded as he held your hand in yours as you both walked back to the house, you couldn't believe that your family found you after all this time they wanted you back

For what?

To torture you..

To Bully you...

To make you actually think you're a mistake that you shouldn't live anymore from all the suffering you've been though...

Shadow noticed your mood chance as he tugged on your hand causing you to come back to reality from thinking too much

You looked in front of you as you noticed that you are both back home, you got your keys and opened the door as you and Shadow went inside

Shadow was still worried about you after what just happened to you, he could see the slap mark becoming visible as he went to go grab a wet cloth to sooth the slap on your cheek

While Shadow was gone to grab you something, you broke down as you slide down on the wall as your curled up into a ball sobbing

This wasn't the first time this has happened, you've had many panic attacks when you were living with your family, they didn't care to help you as they just pretended your weren't there

No-one cared to help you

No-one...

You were losing it, you thought you were free and unchained but today was the worst of all

They found you..

You didn't actually think they were going back to find you again..

Were they going to hunt you down even if it meant hurting you..

Were you just a toy to them?

All these thoughts covered your mind as you couldn't think anymore, your crying became more and more louder, your sobs reached Shadow as his ear flicked at the helpless sound from you

He dropped everything and ran back to you to see you in a bad state as you couldn't stop

Shadow didn't really know what to do, but he remembered that Maria said something about what to do

'Stay with them until they know that you are there for them, holding their hand and comfort them until they calm down'

Those were the words he remembered so he slowly and carefully sat down next to you causing to you relax a bit

He held his hand out for you grab, which of course you did. He could feel you shaking just from holding your hand, your breathing became shaken and short

He started to panic

'Take some breathing lessons with them, Breath in and out'

Shadow knew what he had to do, he brushed some hair out of your way as he cradled your face in his hands, his hands were warm and soft

Your eyes were blurred by the tears, you sniffed as you looked at Shadow

"I'm here for you.. Try to take deep breaths in and out with me. Can you do that?" He spoke in a soft tone that caused you to calm down a bit

You nodded, your face was still cradled as you followed his instructions as you breathed in and out with him until you fully relaxed

"There you go.."

"Sorry I didn't mean to crash out like that" You apologized

Shadow tilted his head in confusion on why you were apologizing to him about having a panic attack

He shook his head as he gave you a gentle smile, lifting your head up a bit

"You don't need to be sorry, It happens" Shadow spoke as he brushed his thumbs over your cheek to get rid of some tears that fell down

You sniffed as you wiped away your tears, your face looked red and puffy from all the crying you just did

"How about we go somewhere more comfy, I bet the floor is very uncomfortable right now"

You gave out a little laugh as you stood up from the floor, you and Shadow walked to your bedroom as you both laid down on the bed

Shadow had your head on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat thumping. He also didn't mind you playing and touching his chest fur, but you couldn't resist it was too fluffy

You were getting quite sleepy from all the chaos that happened today and maybe from Shadow stroking your hair softly with his fingers

After a couple more minutes you fell right asleep, Shadow looked down to see your peaceful sleeping face as he gave a smile, leaning down to give you a little kiss on the forehead

"Rest well my love, I will protect you forever"

Shadow then fell asleep a few minutes after

AHHHHHHH

-A<3

[carn4g3]

Ooh okay, so I thought of an idea! I guess you could call this your first request on this account, but any possessive headcannons about the li's from the night shift?

(I assumed they'd be possessive from what you mentioned at least)

Creepypasta Relationship HCs

Characters - Jeff the Killer, Homicidal Liu (& Sully), Ticci Toby, & Eyeless Jack x GN Reader

Summary - How they are in a relationship (w/ a "healthy" dose of possessive tendencies)

TWs - Descriptions of yandere behavior, cheating (and otherwise unhealthy polyamory), abusive or toxic relationships, manipulation, possessive and jealous behaviors, mentions of murder and other violence, & very brief mentions of sex.

Word Count - 3.4k (500-700 each)

A/N: I'm just going to do one of these for every character from the Night Shift so this will be pt. 1, I'll link pt.2 when it's done :)

Jeff the Killer

Almost definitely has a thing with control. As an unwilling pawn to a creature he can't defeat, he tends to approach all things in life less than civilly.

You would likely have to be under Slender's control as well. While he could possibly tolerate someone who has been with Slender for longer than himself, Jeff prefers a more rookie member. Especially if you're being trained as a proxy, he feels a sort of satisfaction knowing his own influence is somehow intermixed with Slender's closest pawns.

Getting into a relationship with him takes time, and, even then, the term relationship is used very loosely. Jeff has interests for short periods of time before moving on to something else that catches his attention. Assuming this is a more long lasting type of relationship, that manifests as him basically disappearing for anywhere from days to months at a time.

He doesn't quite ignore you. If you pass him by chance, he'll acknowledge you with a smidge more endearment than just anyone else. Even if you seek him out, he might agree, albeit on his terms and free time. However, it certainly rivals the near infatuation he exhibits when he's most interested.

That being said, monogamy is not to be expected. If you wanted to discuss it, you probably wouldn't get a straightforward conversation even if you beat it out of him. Jeff doesn't answer to anyone in his mind. He gets to do whatever he wants, when he wants to. If someone else catches his interest, you're the last thing on his mind.

On the other hand, you do have to answer to him. Being stuck in Slender's woods as well, there's only so many people around you, and Jeff feuds with them constantly. If you were to be seeing one of them, that's something they could hold against him, and, to Jeff, that's worse than sin. For that reason, he absolutely policies your other relationships, and, if anything escalates, you're the sole one at fault. Though, Jeff, behind all his boasting, is not the smartest and it is very easy to lie to him if you're even somewhat decent at it.

Jeff is also not the most affectionate in traditional senses. While he understands the general norms of a relationship, he tends to perceive gestures of affection as begrudging requirements rather than something he enjoys doing.

His main aim in a relationship would be sex, any other things falling as secondary or lower.

Non-sexual physical affection is generally stiff or completely non-existent. Depending on his temperament, he can be a little bit sweeter. If you were to ask for a hug, he would (given you two aren't in any sort of public setting) allow you to give him one. He, on the other hand, would stand there like a reluctantly breathing mannequin.

Words of affection are also few and far between. He absolutely won't say he loves you, and it would be like pulling teeth to get him to call you any endearing nickname. But, Jeff does speak to you a bit softer than he does others. His compliments aren't outright but rather a less critical version of his usual vindictive comments. Not to mention, if he's feeling especially placid, he might refer to you by your actual name over whatever bastardization he normally uses.

His most likely form of affection would be in gift giving. Jeff is kind of a kleptomaniac, deriving a weird sort of joy in taking "souvenirs" from those he's killed. If he just so happens to notice something that you've offhandedly mentioned before or (god forbid) even something that makes him think of you, he'll pass it on. Usually, that means finding it on your doorstep (like he's a cat giving you a dead mouse) or having it tossed off to you under the guise of it being "junk."

I will add one concession which is that it's not entirely impossible to get some complacency out of Jeff. One thing that he tends to forget is that you're not completely weak and docile. After all, you interested Slenderman in some way beyond being prey. The most effective would be straight-up physical violence. Jeff doesn't understand emotional cues, and he hardly respects verbal boundaries. A fist to the gut, though? He understands that well. It'll make him think twice.

Overall, things would need to be toxic on toxic.

Homicidal Liu

Hardly as volatile as his brother, Liu is probably the closest you'll get to a "normal" relationship

While he holds a lot of insecurities about his appearance, he has much more room to interact with others in the real world than some of his companions do. He doesn't have a particular preference for who or what you are. If you're under Slender's control, that makes things easier. But, he's just as willing (if only a little hesitant) to form relationships with people outside of the creature's sphere

In my characterization of Liu, he has a bit of a destructive need to be close to Jeff. Some of it stems from his desire to return to a normal life while other parts of it is because he feels a need to be treated poorly somehow. Either way, his agreement to Slender is purely out of a need to be closer to Jeff. For that reason, he doesn't really view the creature in as negative of a light as others. Liu might even encourage you to submit to Slender if you haven't already, though who knows how that might actually go for you.

A complete wannabe romantic. If he sets his eyes on you, he'll go about the motions in the hopes you'll like him back. On the good side, you'll get a couple of nice dates and a bouquet of your favorite flowers for any sort of special event. In the case you don't reciprocate the romantic feelings, however, that does nothing to deter him. He just needs to try harder and eventually he'll wear you down.

Liu doesn't see himself with anyone but you, and he hopes you feel the same. However, he's a bit more flexible if you aren't interested in being exclusive. He fears that denying you fully might turn your interests away from him, so, instead, he'll try to convince you that he's better than whoever else you set your eyes on.

Compared to others, Liu isn't particularly the strongest. He's killed, but he doesn't feel any great pleasure or disgust towards it. It's something he has to do to be near Jeff, that's all. So, he's not one to go straight to physically harming anyone who gets close to you-- that might upset you too. But, he is one hell of a gossip. Any possible dirt he has on the person in question, he'll tell you all about it, maybe even twist it to seem like they hurt him personally. At the end of the day, you love him, don't you? You wouldn't want him to get hurt again, right?

On the more fluffy side, he’s the most consistently affectionate compared to others. Physical affection and words of affection are the main ways he would show his love in a relationship.

He's most physically affectionate when taking you on a date. Holding your hand and kissing your cheek, he does everything the sweet, picture-perfect boyfriend might. Liu's also very willing to indulge whatever requests you have of him. Whatever you want, his arms are open-- literally. In public settings, he gets a bit shyer, a pink flush taking over his features as he reaches for your hand or hastily presses his lips to your own.

When it comes to words of affection, he's quite the poet, like an actual love poet. Is his poetry good? That's subjective. If you indulge him, he might slip a love note or two your way. Although, he was far from a straight-A student. You're pretty sure some of the big words he uses don't quite mean what he thinks, but the thought is generally there. Even if you don't indulge his poetry, he'll still let the words "I love you" fall in your direction alongside a slew of other compliments.

Sully

I don't imagine Sully fronts very much, but, when he does, it's usually for a decently long period of time. Because of this, Liu keeps a diary of sorts so that the other can be a little less disoriented when coming to the front. Sully begrudgingly respects the diary. He doesn't keep up with it like Liu and writes far less, but he keeps the important details in mind.

If you're Liu's partner, he's not too interested in you. Inevitably, he'll be curious at first upon reading about you, but, if you don't catch his interest, he'll move on just as quickly. In that case, you probably won't see him until he fronts again.

In the off chance that he does see you as more than some side character, that doesn't really change much. Just because you're Liu's partner and somehow attracted to their host body (even though Sully is doubtful to believe that), he doesn't just get free range on you. He'll hang around you a bit longer, maybe indulge in a conversation or two. If Sully's relationship with you does develop into something less passive, it would likely be purely sexual in nature.

In general, Sully is unlikely to pursue a romantic partner of his own-- especially if Liu already has a partner. For Sully, Liu's needs matter more than his own, so he gets the final say on romantic relationships. But, he's not incapable of experiencing romantic attraction for another person.

Unlike Liu, you'd have to be under Slender's control for Sully to even consider you. He admires powerful people, so, if you were a more experienced member, that would only be a bonus.

If he did let an actual relationship form between the two of you, it would probably be pretty loosely defined. He wouldn't call himself your boyfriend, but he would scoff if you didn't see him that way. With that, Sully wouldn't entirely mind you were with someone else-- as long as he found them worthy.

(I'm not decided on writing NSFW on this account yet, but there's something there... remind me)

That doesn't dissolve the possessiveness entirely. Sully would still feel like he has some say in your other partners if it's someone he doesn't like. Rather than take that disapproval out on you, he'll go right to the source, and he is not opposed to violence.

In terms of affection in a relationship, Sully is a lot like Jeff in most ways. He's not a fan of initiating softer forms of affection. You would have to be dying in his arms to get him to hug you and most kisses would need to be initiated by you (it's not like he minds, though).

Sully's most valuable asset is his time. When he's fronting, he gets no more than one or two months to get everything done. So, if he chooses to spend his time with you, you better appreciate it. Even if you don't, that might not stop him if he's in deep enough.

Liu would probably be similarly indifferent to Sully's partner whenever he fronts again. He takes a bit more time to get to know you, Sully writing much less about you than Liu would, but he certainly wouldn't grow more fond of you than that.

Ticci Toby

Truly a rollercoaster of a man.

Toby is damn near infatuated with Slender, seeing it as something of a savior to him. Whether you feel entirely the same is irrelevant, you would have to be another proxy. Toby is often trapped in his own mind, not really too observant of things he doesn't need to be. So, you would need to be someone who's a bit more relevant in his life than just an occasional mission-buddy.

Surprise, surprise, Toby struggles with authority. He hates when people have power over him and he knows it (*cough* Tim *cough*). He'll fight any order quite fervently whether that be by outright defying it or just doing something his own way instead. At the same time, he feels the innate urge to be validated for his efforts and garner respect from the very same authority figure. Shockingly, he finds himself gravitated to someone who's been around a bit longer than himself.

You would have to be the one to establish any clear boundaries or definitions in a relationship. Once Toby thinks something, that tends to become his version of fact. He thinks you two are partners? You are. No need to inform you of that, you must already know.

Toby is incredibly insecure in himself. As a result, everyone is a threat to his relationship with you. Anyone could swipe you away if he's not watching carefully enough, so he's on high alert around others-- whether you want him to be or not. At the best of times, he can keep his mouth shut. But, at his worst, he sics himself on others like an untrained guard dog. The offense in question? Causing you to smile in a conversation.

This sort of variety tends to describe most of your relationship. Sometimes, he fails to see any of your flaws, pining any issues he has on either himself or others. Other times, everything is your fault to the point he almost despises you. Those times don't equate to necessarily him distancing himself. Rather, he takes increasingly more frustrating means to get you to change for him. You love him, don't you?

Toby doesn't know much about relationships apart from the stereotypical and heteronormative examples he saw as a child. Regardless of your gender, he tends to think of himself as the "dominating man" of the relationship. Despite that, he tends to be weak to you. It's not the hardest to knock him down a peg or two, depending on his mental state.

His most likely forms of affection are in gifts and acts of service. He's not exactly an artist, but he likes to think he is as he combines various rocks, sticks, and acorns together into some atrocity for you. Almost like a courting bird, he most prefers giving you the pretty or shiny objects he can find throughout the woods. As for his acts of service, those go back to his desire for you to be proud of him. Doing things for you is a natural way for him to achieve that, no matter how ridiculous or damaging your request might be. This aspect of his is almost too easy to exploit.

Toby is very awkward with physical affection. Being around you heightens his nerves and, in turn, his tics. He worries that he'll jab you too hard with his elbow or accidentally smack you with an involuntary hand flick. So, he stays close but never too close: hovering is the best way to describe it. Toby exists near you like a presence, just a few feet away and fiddling with his hands as he waits for you.

Words of affection are also difficult for him for similar reasons. He despises the way his voice comes out cut and stuttered and saying such big things like "I love you" takes a lot of effort out of him. On that note, he can be quite the talker once you two get closer. When he's comfortable around people, he likes to tell them about his interests in long, rambling ways with a little glimmer in his eyes. It's almost comical how easily you can initiate such word vomit from him.

Eyeless Jack

EJ has been a personal fav of mine for many years now.

While I'm an absolute sucker for the beauty and the beast trope with this guy, I think a relationship with someone else under Slender's control is most likely. Despite that, he would definitely be more likely to fall in love with a more human member than another supernatural one. Jack craves nothing more than the nostalgia and familiarity of humanity, so, if a human partner is the closest he can get, then so be it.

A relationship with Jack is beyond a slowburn. He wouldn't admit feelings for you even if it killed him. Jack despises who he is and thinks that every nice thing around him should feel the same. For that reason, it would take you to be the catalyst for the relationship. Good luck doing that though when Jack starts avoiding you like the plague, a pretty common occurrence. Even if you do voice the thoughts for him, he might still hide in the hopes you'll forget them.

Once in a relationship, he's the most likely to make it clear that he wants you two to be exclusive. While I tend to hesitate on making his more demonic traits too animalistic, I think it's reasonable to suggest that he has quite the strong nose. You have a scent, perhaps even one beyond whatever hygiene products you wear, and so does everyone else. If you don't smell like, well, you, it unsettles him in a certain way. That's his reasoning, at least.

In reality, he's more possessive than he lets on. To an extent, it's not a complete ruse on his part. He does truly believe the things that he asks of you are because his demonic nature makes the alternative impossible. It would be a lie to say there isn't some almost inexplicable mental gymnastics to get to that point, however. He can handle you having platonic relationships with others, no matter how much he feels his hands twitch unpleasantly at the thought. Jack struggles to fully commit to making you "all his" given that he doesn't think he deserves anything.

Expanding on his self-hatred a bit further, Jack is most vocal about these feelings with you. The sheer amount of time it took for the two of you to get together allowed for the establishment of more than enough trust on his part. He'll rarely dump it all at once. Instead, he makes comments here and there about hating certain features of his, or, if that's too much, he'll look so obviously sad about it. The reassurances feel cute, almost more domestic than you expected... at first.

Jack doesn't actively seek praise or compliments from others. If anything, he tries to practically disappear in most social settings. So, to have someone reaffirm him so readily, it's almost intoxicating. It would be a lie to say he doesn't fish for compliments on occasion, highlighting some insecurity of his to an unnecessary degree in the hopes you'll dote on him over him. Honestly, you might have swayed his worries on the issue entirely, but he'll be damned if he doesn't hear you say it again and again and again.

Acts of service and quality time are his go to forms of affection. Jack is guilty of hovering even more so than Toby is. If you're doing something, he's willing to help with whatever it is (there's very little he can't do) or at least linger around you if you don't want the help. When you're not busy, he still likes to linger near even if you two are doing separate things. Another heightened sense of his is hearing, so he basks in the quiet. As his partner, hearing you is a big comfort to him, even if it's just your soft breaths.

As is customary now, Jack doesn't think he's deserving of physical affection even though he craves it. He's shockingly strong willed and won't initiate anything unless you specifically instruct him to. He's most partial to being held by you, but is willing and happy to act as your personal pillow if need be. Sometimes, he can be a bit too cautious with his expressions of physical affection. Between his claws, his strength, and the inhuman black substance that drips from his eye sockets, he's a big fan of hover hands.

For words of affection, Jack is not a talker whatsoever. Despite his transparency on his insecurities, it flusters him greatly to share how he truly feels about you. He can only bring himself to say he loves you when he's sure you're deep asleep. Regardless, he'll manage to throw around an occasional compliment or two. Usually, it's uttered painstakingly quiet and you'd be lucky if he ever actually repeated it for you to hear better.

I fear there is some favoritism between these characters and I need to write more asshole EJ hcs.

[hoahoahoahoahoa]

I’m not quite done with this idea but i don't think i'm in a place to sit down and write a fic so i'll just word vomit here

First of all, my two fav side effects of this AU:

Not only does Edward not have the edge on Bella that he has on everyone, but she has that edge on him. He's forced to be vulnerable to her the same way everyone but her is forced to be with him. He's getting a taste of his own medicine in the worst way. (not that he's invading others' privacy on purpose most of the time, but it is what it is)

2a. Edward does a lot of romanticizing Bella, because he can. She's the one person onto whom he can project. It sounds nastier than it is-- that's how all relationships are to some degree, especially at first before you get to know the person. The difference is how much of a novelty this is for Edward. Finally, he can get to know someone at a normally pace, not privy to private events they don't mean to share. He goes a little overboard idealizing her because she's the first mystery he's had in a long ass time. Except now... Bella can catch him doing it.

2b. Bella's got the reverse now. She gets all Edward's dirty laundry from the jump. She meets him at his very worst... and she sees him rise above it, and how quickly he turns around.

Okay busting out my copy of Midnight Sun for this play-by-play of the first book:

Obviously a big plot change is Bella knows Edward is a vampire from day one. Even if she doesn't clue in from anything she hears from him in the cafeteria (she might not even fully realize what's happening in the cafeteria; maybe Bella's telepathy doesn't have as long a range as Edward's b/c she's human and also "borrowing" the gift), it's super obvious as soon as her scent hits him in Biology.

She's frozen in place from the shock of suddenly having telepathy + the revelation that vampires are real + Edward's a telepath (that can't hear her?) + the sheer violence in Edward's thoughts. She manages to gather her thoughts enough to consider running out of the room or even asking to be excused, but she doesn't trust her voice to not give away her terror, which would escalate the situation.

Class ends and Edward runs out and Bella decides very, very quickly that Edward Cullen cannot know that she can read his mind and knows about him being a vampire. Surely he would follow through on killing her if he knew. She's got to play it cool like none of this ever happened. She can't tell anyone, because he (and his vampire family?) would kill them too.

Some of Edward's thoughts in Biology involved following her home and eating her there so there'd be less casualties. She has no way of knowing that he ran away to Alaska. It's not even a comfort that he doesn't return to school; she spends the whole time he's away waiting for him to appear out of thin air and kill her. She sharpens a stick from her backyard into a stake which she keeps in her backpack because she has no way of knowing it couldn't work, and she doesn't want to feel totally helpless, even if it's a silly gesture. No harm in trying.

In this time she does get some flashes of Alice's visions during lunch now that Alice has turned her "eye" on her. She has no clue what to make of them. Her with red eyes?? Her smiling with Alice?? Her with Edward?? These cannot be coming from her own imagination what the fuck is going on, she must be losing her mind from everything that's been happening

Edward comes back to school and Bella's picking up snippets from him from across the room. he seems much less murder-y. but she's not ready to trust that after everything she heard that first day. It doesn't help that Edward is coming in with every intention of gaslighting her ("Why didn’t she look up? Probably she was frightened. I must be sure to leave her with a different impression this time. Make her think she’d been imagining things before.")

The thing about Bella trying to hide her telepathy, which becomes very apparent in Biology on Edward's first day back, is she's never had to do that before. It's very difficult. It doesn't help that Edward's internal monologue is trained on how helpless she isa nd how it hurts to breathe near her because she smells so tasty

Talking to Edward is just difficult I’m general bc vampires are canonically capable of having multiple trains of thought at once and we know Bella is frequently ~dazzled~ by his beauty so Edward quickly becomes very concerned for this poor girl she’s hanging on by a THREAD

And of course Bella hears this worry so she’s in a positive feedback loop of anxiety. RIP

anyway Bella doesn’t do a perfect job of hiding her fear and her newfound ability. She slips up juuuust enough that Edward is Suspicious. But she makes it through

The tipping point for Bella going from "terrified" to "oh this is a complicated creature" is the incident with Tyler's van. For a horrible moment, Bella's absorbed in Alice's vision of her getting squished. Then she hears Not her! in her head in Edward's voice, clear as day. And she hears all Edward's anxiety over the potential for exposure but also how he just really, really doesn't want her to die (even if it's confusing him). She laughs a little too hard at his "no blood, no foul" joke at the hospital because she's in on it now and she's too stressed to think better of it.

I think her mind also, like. Snaps. at this point. She's done worrying. He's gonna kill her or he's not. He can't even seem to decide, and she can't do anything about it anyway, she's just going to keep on keeping on and if she dies, well, at least the end of her life will have been the most interesting bit? And yeah she's a little bit of a freak and she's fascinated by this guy. What is his deal. She’s along for the ride now

Bella doesn't grill Edward for the truth of how he got over to her so fast but she does slip up and thank him for risking so much to save her and he's like wait. Does she mean risking his life with the van or risking exposure of him and his family? There's no way she could know about that??

Of course that day is the day Alice lets it slip to Edward that he's going to fall in love with Bella. Bella isn't present for that but the next month, Edward refuses to talk to Bella but she hears a constant stream of I do NOT have a crush on her, I AM going to kill Mike Newton, I am NOT falling for her, even if it'd be so easy to fall for her, I wonder what she's thinking right now, I will NOT destroy her future, my throat HURTS and honestly it's still freaky as hell to be privy to a vampire's mind but her mind's kinda. Snapped. by now. and she can't help but be a tiny bit amused. At least he's not fighting "the monster within" anymore? Is this some weird strategy to keep from killing her? Sure, fine, whatever, thanks

Bella catches snippets of memories of the family meeting about killing her too. Btw. Much 2 think about

When Edward finally asks her if she wants a ride to Seattle, she hears how genuinely nervous he is, and she knows, fucking knows exactly how dangerous he is, so she honestly shocks herself when she says yes. He hasn’t killed her yet, and he’s genuinely fascinating, at this point she’s Into him but also studying him like a bug

At lunch that day Bella hears in Edward’s head that he’s ditching because they’re blood typing. She can’t think of a good excuse to also ditch. Edward is extremely confused that she leaves for Biology like she’s about to walk into a war zone

Port Angeles happens much the same as in canon with Bella feigning ignorance and acting like she hasn’t known about Edward being a vampire from day one. It seems silly to admit she figured out the vampire thing but not mention the telepathy, but every time she opens her mouth to admit to the telepathy, she remembers the snippets of the family meeting about killing her and she chokes on her tongue. It’s one thing for a vampire to choose to confirm a human’s suspicions about the existence of vampires. It’s another entirely for a human to have direct access to a vampire’s mind and the whole coven’s secrets, right?

So now Bella’s stuck herself in a horrible situation where Edward’s trying to be honest with her and she’s lying to his face. Angst angst angst

Bella doesn’t realize that night that she’s in love with Edward.

Edward has a really conflicting image of Bella because on the one hand nothing ever seems to surprise her. On the other, she seems nervous every time she opens her mouth. The idea that she can read his mind is just so far-fetched it just doesn’t occur to him— even he couldn’t read thoughts as a human

Bella hears the Bug Calculations in the meadow. I just wanted to point that out. It’s hilarious

Bella finally breaks. I’m thinking Midnight Sun page 349, right after this exchange:

…but when she says “you know, the rest of us feel that way all the time” it’s absolutely stricken with guilt and nerves. He never gets a choice in telling her what he’s thinking. It’s finally being thrown in her face. She can’t keep this up anymore. This can’t go on— not without him knowing

So of course replace “I was wishing I could know what you’re thinking” with a horrible minute of absolute silence from Bella. Her heart rate spikes and she finally braces herself says “no, ‘the rest of us’ includes your family. They can’t read minds, either.”

Even with his vampiric supercomputer brain™ it takes a good 5 seconds for him to register that she’s responding to something he didn’t say out loud. He chokes out her name in a strangled cry. This is the quietest his mind has ever been to her. She broke him. Good lord did she trigger something is he going to kill her— no, he wouldn’t, but what if—

Bella immediately starts crying. Sorry, babygirl. Yeah she terrified. She thinks Here it comes. She starts babbling. She blurts out the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. “I’m not like you. Not really. I can only ‘hear’ you. And I don’t think my range is as far as yours, from what you’ve described. I’ve been afraid to tell you because I figured someone like you couldn’t let someone like me live with the knowledge I have now but because I was afraid to let you suspect I knew anything, I got to know you“ etc etc

Edward is still through all of it. Deathly (hah) still. Straight corpsin’. She’s now getting static from his brain— too many thoughts too fast for her human mind to pick anything comprehensible out.

Boy oh boy if Edward was struggling with the mortifying ordeal of being known before… he just found out the woman he’s in love with has been live-streaming his inner monologue every second they’ve been together. Noice 👌

He’s really, really angry. At Bella, for hiding this. At himself, for not seeing it sooner. At himself again, for every wicked thought he’s had in her presence (I know he’s prob not catholic but the catholic guilt is strong in this one). Every shared moment with her flashes before his eyes in reverse chronological order, leaving him off with the first day in Biology. Truly the most heinous thoughts he’s ever thunk, in his opinion, and she heard it all. “You’re here.” He says. “You know exactly how close I’ve come to killing you, over and over again… and you’re here.” It occurs to him that Bella could’ve been going along with his plans and pretending to be his friend for fear of her life, but she hears that train of thought and shuts it down: “Yes, I’m here. Because I want to be.” Edward winces because okay, yes, it does suck being on this side of the telepathy, confirmed.

Still, he tells her in short order, because he thinks it needs to be said: “You can leave right now. You can never talk to me again. I won’t come after you, and I’ll protect you from my family.” He silently prays that Alice loves Bella enough to not tell Rose or Jasper about this if she’s seen it, and then winces when he realizes Bella can probably hear that he’s not 100% certain he could protect her from his family.

She takes his hand. Gives him a really sad smile. “I’ll stay… if you’re sure you want me to.”

Edward starts choking/laughing/sobbing. Here’s this girl who’s seen him at pretty much his lowest, laughed her way through his feeble disguise, and somehow still accepts him.

Hearing this thought, something occurs to Bella: she loves him. Isn’t that what love is? Seeing someone’s worst, and taking their hand? Maybe she’s not in love with him yet, but… yeah, that’s some kind of love.

Now she’s looking at him like she loves him. Edward doesn’t dare believe that’s the expression she’s wearing, so her softened gaze and slight smile are driving him crazy: “Tell me what you’re thinking— I think I’m justified in asking, now” he’s still reeling so he’s gonna crack a joke, ok

“I meant it when I said you’re beautiful.” He can appreciate that more now— she knew how truly monstrous he was when she said that. He’s been dead wrong about her not understanding, or underestimating— she knows. It doesn’t really connect in his brain. So the word “Beautiful” sends him off on his canon tangent about being designed to kill (“aS iF yOu CoUlD oUtRuN mE”)— maybe an in-person demonstration will drill it into her that he’s too dangerous to want to be around

Instead of calling herself an idiot for still wanting to be around him, Bella argues that she’s aware of all that, but she’s also aware of the horrible pain he endures just to be around her, and all the control he’s shown so far.

Okay this is long enough already djdjxjxdjsjs TBC if there’s any demand for it

AU where Bella’s gift is not so much a shield as it is an Uno reverse card

Edward can read everyone’s mind but Bella’s as in canon, but now she can read Edward’s mind

Alice’s visions are blank where she’s concerned (like the werewolves in canon), but Bella can see visions of the future involving Alice, or has visions when she’s around Alice. Jasper’s gift is already kinda 2-way so he can still sense/manipulate her emotions, but she can do it back to him. She can hurt Jane, zap Kate, etc etc

Bella would have the weirdest fucking first day of school anyone has ever had, ever. There’s a voice in her head saying “yeah okay I guess she’s pretty but kind of plain and— wait why can’t I hear her” and then Biology is just. The worst hour of her life. but being Bella she’s just sitting there like

…while Edward plans the death of her and all her classmates right next to her

[defectivevillain]

& your terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

pairing: Deadpool & Wolverine & Reader

The reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: “Deadpool and Wolverine, sitting in a minivan, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” The guy sings to himself, his head swaying back and forth as he continues. “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a dog in a… baby… carriage!” He taps his hands on the steering wheel restlessly. “Hm. That last part needs some work.” It doesn’t look like he’s noticed you sitting in the backseat.

Your Uber ride is... interesting, to say the least.

word count: 1.8k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical suggestive humor/blood & violence

author's note: This is probably the dumbest thing I've ever written. This fic is complete and utter crack. The logistics of this don’t really make sense either. I haven’t watched the second Deadpool movie, because I don’t have it in me to take on another pair of disaster gays. But! I saw the car fight scene and thought of this. (For example, I didn't realize until I started tagging this fic on AO3 that the Honda Odyssey belongs to Nicepool.... which clashes with this story. So... yeah. Canon doesn't exist to me.)

Also, I couldn't find a gif of them in the car that didn't just look like something right out of gay porn 💀 lmfaooo. anyways, hope you enjoy this shit show!

Uber is always a bit of a roll of the dice. Sometimes, the driver is great and the ride is painless. Other times, it’s awkward or uncomfortable—and the drive seems to take twice as long, if only because you’re relegated to staring out the window and regretting every decision you’ve ever made. You’ve been using Uber less these days, instead opting for a longer train ride or unpleasant bus ride. 

Today, though, you’re exhausted. Your head is pounding; work was an absolute nightmare, per usual; and you just want nothing more than to go home. When you see the marked van of the Uber driver pulling up, you’re quick to slide into the backseat. 

The driver—Joseph, the app says—can’t even get a word out before the window next to him is suddenly punched. You stare in fearful disbelief as a guy wearing red spandex promptly tugs him out of the car and kicks him into the nearby bushes. Then he sits in the driver’s seat, beginning to hum to himself casually. 

“Deadpool and Wolverine, sitting in a minivan, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” He sings to himself, his head swaying back and forth as he continues. “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a dog in a… baby… carriage!” He taps his hands on the steering wheel restlessly. “Hm. That last part needs some work.” It doesn’t look like he’s noticed you. 

“Do you ever stop fucking talking?” A new voice says. To your horror, there’s another guy now—he nearly rips the passenger side door off as he takes a seat, then slamming it behind him. You look at both of them, taking in their spandex costumes and assorted weapons. The yellow-suited man is Wolverine; and the red-suited man must be Deadpool—judging from that childish song he just sang. You think you’ve heard of them, maybe? They don’t seem to be particularly villainous guys, but you don’t know them well enough to make that assumption safely. 

They continue bickering for several minutes, not even bothering to turn around and glance at their occupied backseat. Eventually your annoyance trumps your anxiety and you address them. “Can you stop flirting and just drive?” You blurt out.

They both flinch, whipping around in their seats as if just noticing you. 

“Oh, hello!” Deadpool chirps brightly, sending you a friendly wave that feels very misplaced for the current situation. “How long have you been there?” He tilts his head curiously. 

“The entire time.” You answer. 

“Wonderful.” Wolverine says dryly. 

“It’s not my fault you lack situational awareness.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. The guy’s eyebrow shoots up his face in clear irritation. You try to pretend your hands aren’t shaking. This is completely normal. Just an ordinary commute after work. “Anyways, can you just drive already?” You add on impatiently. It’s been a long day and this really isn’t helping it go any faster. You fidget uncomfortably. 

“Drive?” Deadpool asks, seeming confused. 

“We’re in a car, in case you didn’t notice.” You say, your headache speaking for you. These two have been talking the entire time you’ve been sitting here. “And you threw my Uber driver into the bushes over there, so….” You trail off. 

“Then you can take a trip to the bushes next.” Wolverine says gruffly. 

“No, that makes you the Uber driver, buddy.” You assert, turning to the red-suited guy sitting in the driver’s seat. He seems to be a lot more amicable—and easily persuaded—than the grouch. “So buckle up and take your eyes off your friend for two seconds to take me where I need to go.” And wow, you must be even more tired than you thought. 

“Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” Wolverine practically orders. 

“Not really.” You admit. Nothing about this interaction makes sense to you. It may as well be a dream sequence, because your filter is completely gone. “The couple's costumes are cute, though.” 

“We’re not a couple.” He immediately corrects you. 

Deadpool visibly droops at his side. “Come on, you’re breaking my heart.” He says somewhat sarcastically. Immediately, the two guys seem to be on the verge of arguing again. 

You sigh and try to summon some patience. Maybe you can appeal to their cold, dead hearts by being nice. “Hey, can you just drive me to where I need to go, please?” You ask, breaking through their taunting once more. “I won’t tell anyone about whatever this is. I just want to go home.” 

You must look particularly pathetic, because after only a few moments of silence, they both seem to cave in. “Where are you going.” Wolverine almost growls, managing to make the question sound like a demand. You answer with the address and he sighs, plugging it into the GPS system next to the front console. 

Deadpool begins driving. No one is talking, as the vigilante focuses on the road; you fight off your growing fear, and Wolverine stews in irritation. They’re talking about something in hushed whispers, but you’re too exhausted and overwhelmed to eavesdrop. It’s only when they begin to raise their voices that you realize you may not reach your destination just yet. They’re currently engaged in a worrying stare-off, with Deadpool not even looking at the road ahead.

…You’re definitely going to die. 

When the car screeches to a stop moments later, you’re not very surprised. Deadpool seems to be resisting the urge to put his knife through Wolverine. You take one look at the two of them and decide you don’t want to be a part of their homoerotic fist fight. So you open your door—which is unlocked, by some miracle—and head off to sit nearby. You find a decently-sized tree and sit behind it, using it as a makeshift barrier from the violence occurring behind you. For a while, you can only hear pained hisses and curse words. Just when you start to think the fight is over, the glass of the windshield shatters and a blur of motion passes before your eyes. Wolverine catches himself with a hand on the ground, crouching and slowly looking up only to meet your eyes. He then stares at you in disbelief, clearly surprised to see you. You can’t find any words to say. 

Your presence must distract him, because soon Deadpool is running at him with a gleeful cry. “Thanks, baby!” The mercenary says to you, before throwing a punch at the superhero. They start trading hits and you glance at the car forlornly. 

Truthfully, you want nothing more than to steal the van and drive away, but Deadpool and Wolverine are still too close. While they’re distracted, though, you manage to sneak back to the car—swiping the keys and the knife that was neglected in the passenger seat. Then they’re throwing each other at the car again, and you’re back at a distance. 

It’s extremely amusing to see the two guys finally collapse in the car after their unnecessarily long fight… only to realize they don’t have the keys. They seem moments away from brawling it out again, when you snap. Today has really been the worst day you’ve had in a long time. And it was looking to be that way, even before all of this nonsense. 

You move mechanically, until you’re standing before the broken window on the driver’s side. “Get up.” You say, swallowing past the burning feeling in your throat. The urge to cry is growing stronger with every passing second. Deadpool just looks up at you. In a burst of exhausted anger, you point the knife at him. You don’t have any plans to use it, of course. But you get the sense he only really listens to violence. 

There’s silence for a long time. “Are we getting carjacked?” Deadpool eventually asks. 

“No,” you sigh. “Just get in the back. Please. It’s been a long day; I just want to go home. You can fool around and do your stupid shit after.” Your voice breaks somewhere along the way and you think your hand is shaking ever so slightly as you hold the knife. 

Deadpool and Wolverine turn towards each other, some sort of silent understanding passing between them. Then the vigilante is gently holding the blade  and taking it from your hand. He heads to the backseat, before Wolverine lets out a groan and does the same. 

You bite the inside of your cheek and sit down, starting the car. Fortunately, it seems the car is still functioning—despite the bloodbath it just saw. These two seem a little hardheaded, but not stupid enough to risk getting stranded without a working car. 

You try to hide your shaking hands as you turn your attention to the GPS system, before putting the car in reverse and then proceeding onto the nearby street. Luckily, you’re not far from where you wanted to be—with a ten minute drive, you’ll arrive. 

Those ten minutes feel like ten hours. The guys are completely silent in the back, evidently tired from their fight. The van looks… well, rather bad. There are bloodstains everywhere and you think the driver’s seat must’ve been knifed, because it feels weirdly uncomfortable. But finally, finally, you arrive and pull into the parking lot. 

You take a slow breath, pretending not to feel as scared and restless as you are. Your survival instincts kick in and you quickly turn the car off. From there, you almost robotically exit the car. The sheer absurdity of the situation is starting to catch up to you. And despite the fact that neither of the men paid you much attention, you can’t shake off the knowledge that they could kill you in the blink of an eye. 

“You’ll give us a five-star rating, right?” Deadpool asks through the space where the back seat window used to be. His remark unknowingly breaks through your quickly spiraling thoughts.

You don’t bother entertaining his question. “Have fun on your little adventure.” You manage to say instead. The remark is intended to be somewhat sarcastic, but it comes out quiet and too sincere. 

“It’s an average size for an adventure, thank you very much.” Deadpool jokes. Then he almost seems to straighten up. His mask covers his entire face, but his voice sounds sympathetic. “Get some rest, pal. You look like hell.” 

He seems concerned. It’s a strange thought. You stand there for a bit longer than you should, because you’re so surprised by the remark. Then you blink and break out of your thoughts, closing the door behind you and walking away. The unmistakable screeching sound of tires on pavement informs you of their departure. 

It takes you several hours to convince yourself you’re safe and sound. And when your head finally hits your pillow that night, you’re graced with one humorous thought: you’ve had weirder Uber drivers, ironically. 

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

Deadpool, turning towards you: So I guess this means I'm your Uber driver now...? Wolverine, frowning: ...I've never been to oovoo javer.

What the hell am I doing with my life. I haven't even watched this movie god dammit. And I have yet ANOTHER fic draft with these two... (－‸ლ)

I like how I updated my blog's theme (and it's beautiful and I don't care what anyone says), only to post this absolute dumpster fire of a fic immediately after. Like, how does anyone take me seriously...

anyways, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you @moss4ev3r

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[crxlrei-888]

LOVE AND DEEP SPACE HAREM

@crxlrei-888

art not mine

ᯓᡣ𐭩 lnds x reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nsfw/18+

ᯓᡣ𐭩 violence

❛ i dont mind being shared.. ❜

❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆❀⋆

In the quiet evening of Linkon City, the air had the scent of blooming lilies, and the soft hum of distant crickets provided the only music. Inside Gran's quaint cottage, the gentle tick-tock of the grandfather clock echoed through the hallways, a rhythmic lullaby for the night.

Gran, with her silver hair and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, dozed peacefully in her favorite rocking chair, the steady creak a testament to years of comfort it had brought her.

Caleb, tall and fit, his black hair styled in a way that made his purple eyes pop, had just returned from his long journey. Farspace had left him with a newfound sense of adventure, but also an unexpected craving for the familiar. He stepped into the house, his heart racing with excitement to see you - his childhood friend. He had thought about you often during his travels, and the anticipation of your reunion had fueled many a lonely night.

You on the other hand, had been busy preparing dinner. You had always been a good cook, and tonight you wanted to make something special.

"You sure you don't need any help there, (Y/N)?" Grandma Josephine asked peering at the oven, " I see you're going all out."

"It's been so long," You blushed, putting the stove on. Finally you put the last curry to be prepared and all that's left to do is tidying up, "I want to show him I prepared all this on my own."

"Ah I see..." Grandma pouted, " You don't want me to take any credit at all... as if I don't exist."

"Oh Gran!" You laughed, kissing her forehead, "Don't think like that."

"Mhm," Gran smiled, "I'll at least help you clean up. Is that fine?"

You nod with a blush.

"Good. I was going to help you anyway." Gran starts wiping the dishes, "Have you given Caleb a hint of what you wanted to tell him all these years?"

Your thoughts swirled around an oath you had made to yourself before Caleb had left for work at the Deepspace Aviation Administration — to confess your love to Caleb when he returned. But you had no idea how he'd react. Would he feel the same way? Would it be awkward? You hoped not. You missed him alot. Probably too much you could handle.

You've both grown up seeing each other's flaws and strengths. Nothing was unfamiliar to the two of you. You grew up together as two adopted kids for Gran, living under the same roof and all.

He worried about you alot. Wayyy too much. Even if you guys weren't dating or anything official- everyone else would think otherwise. Gran would even tease the two of you - she was like your number one shipper from the start. Caleb never left you alone and you'd always follow him.

But what if things changed now? What if he changed after working? It's possible maybe he found someone he likes at work?

Someone he didn't need to take care of?

Suddenly the door opened and a familiar voice snapped you out of your daze and your heart skipped a beat.

"Pipsqueak! Gran! Guess whose back!?"

You dump the soap filled dishes back in the sink and jolted out the kitchen startling Gran who laughed at your instictive reaction. Your legs didn't stop until you reached the open door where the purple eyes young man stood gripping unto several gift bags.You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his torso which caused him to step back as you tackled yourself in a hug.

"Hey Hey hey! You'll break the gifts!" Caleb panicked, his fingers barely holding all the gift bag handles as he held his posture to stand. He smiles as you snuggle into his chest.

"Shut up." I mumbled into his shirt, "Are you saying the gifts are more important than me?"

"Of course not." Caleb laughed, wrapping his arms around you, gifts still in his hands, "But my ribcages are. You're squeezing the air outta me pipsqueak!"

"Hmph!" You shove him aside and fold your arms. By the time, Gran had already entered the room as she pinched his and your cheeks.

"You two never change will you?"

"Nope." You both say in unison but his eyes locks on your (E/C) eyes and you smile at each other for no odd reason.

The dinner was a delightful affair, filled with laughter and Caleb's experience at work. Gran listened with rapt attention, her eyes gleaming with pride as you listened attentively, inspecting each word that left his mouth - you know... in case he let a slip of word of a possible girl he likes back at work.

"Gideon forgot to get his girl some gifts" Caleb explained while chewing a piece of pork chops, "So we went shopping."

"Aw~" You smiled. The thought that Gideon's girlfriend getting spoilt was sweet. She was a nice girl. You only met her once.

Back at Caleb's and Gideon's graduation. She was really pretty and had an adorable and childlike personality. Caleb points to gifts on the couch, "Got a bunch of things for you and Gran, pipsqueak. You haven't even opened one yet."

"I'll open it after dinner."

"You open gifts when you receive it! Maybe you should've opened it when I arrived! There's a bunch of cool pretty stuff!"

"Sorry."

"Haha- But seriously, you better check it out before bed. I took a loooong time hand picking everything for you."

Gran smiled as she watched the two of you. Two of you stared at each other, longingness and comfort in each other's presence. Soon however you realised you were too focused on his lips moving that you weren't listening to a thing.

"Hey (Y/N) ? You good?" He blinked, waving his arm at your face.

"Yeah!" You say flustered and hastily look at the empty plates on the table, "I'll clean up!"

Gran's eyelids grew heavy, she excused herself to bed. Caleb offered to help clean up, his eyes never leaving you.

The moment the door to Gran's bedroom clicked shut, the air in the kitchen changed. The tension between you grew palpable, a silent symphony of desire. Caleb's gaze traveled down your body, taking in your figure and the way the soft light kissed your skin. He had always found you attractive, but tonight you looked absolutely irresistible.

Feeling his gaze sharply runs a tingling sensation up your back as you stood at the sink. You wore a tube top with your mini pajama pants that flared out just bellow your butt. You wore this plenty of times, however, something made you a little nervous about wearing it today.

"That pj... is looking quiet small pipsqueak?" Caleb raised his eyebrow, setting down the bowls, "You better get bigger sizes next time."

"Are you telling me my size is a problem?" You flushed pouting.

"You did gain a bit of weight...pfft" Caleb tried to hold in his laugh which pissed you off. Immediately you grab hold of the washer pipe of the kitchen sink and spray water in his direction. Swiftly he raised his hands causing the water to stay mid air. This annoyed you even more - he was using his gravitational evol!

"Nice try." Caleb smirks. You start chasing him around the kitchen counter while the splashes of water remained mid air.

"You're mean!" You hissed annoyed glaring at Caleb who grinned cheekily.

"How's it my fault you're gaining weight!?"

"I haven't gained weight!"

"Your Hunter uniform probably squeezed everything to perfect shape but that mini pj's ain't cutting pipsqueak. I can clearly see your panties."

"Liar."

"Your (F/C) is flashing for me." He teases, raising his brows amused.

You flushed a shade of red embarrassed. He wasn't lying. You consciously tug at your hem of your pj pants, it was still failing to cover your panties.

"Look at you all conscious now." Caleb teased, "I've seen your panties before. Matter of fact they used to be in the laundry - I remember drying them too."

"CALEB!"

"Hey shush!" Caleb meekly put a finger on his lips, "Grans sleeping."

"Hmph!" You folded your arms defiantly causing him to gush at your cute reaction.

Cheekily, he deactivated his power, causing the water that was in the air to fall on you. Your drenched (H/c) clasped onto your face, as you felt the icy water rush along your skin as you gasped for air at the sudden splash.

His laughter filled the kitchen, your own following soon after. His chest heaved as he calmed down and throws a towel on your head. Casually, like back in your childhood, his fingers massaged into your scalp. The towel tangling strands of your (H/C) hair and he pats your back.

"Let's go to the lounge. I'll dry it off like the good ol' days."

"I'm not a kid anymore." You whined but Caleb was already shoving you towards the lounge.

You huffed in defiance, sinking into the soft sofa and allowed him to continue as he stood behind the sofa.

"Not a kid anymore but you got an attitude like one. Why don' you open the gifts now"

You held your tongue from retorting anything and decided to open it anywhere.

As (Y/N) picked up each gift, your heart raced. What could they be? The anticipation grew with every box she uncovered.

First gift was a novel book - Kitten by S.

"Oooo," You raised an eyebrow, turning the pages, "Have you read the book?"

"Nope." Caleb chimed, "Apparently it's the latest romance novel in Linkon. Author remains anonymous yet owns the biggest library in Linkon. Heard no one's ever seen him."

As I flipped the pages, the breeze smelled faintly of distant lands. I lay it down and dig into the next gift. A stuffed animal that seemed to hold a secret life of its own.

"Awww this is a cutie!" You hold out a mini penguin over your head and Caleb laughs.

"Just like you! " Caleb cheers and puts the towel over his shoulder, "Check the last gift. You're gonna love it!"

Your hand reached out and grabbed a box.

Your cheeks burn embarassed. A sleek, black device, nestled in velvet, that could only be one thing. The room grew still, the only sound the crackle of the fire. You looked up at him, her eyes wide and unsure. Caleb's smile faltered.

"Oh crap-" he said cursing himself as his ears turned red.

[genderqueerdykes]

transmasc experience. I've been stealth at three different workplaces and it boils my blood when people act like being stealth is some kind of privilege. like even if it is "easier" for us to be stealth (it's not, I get clocked as queer even if I can pass for cis, but whatever) it's also not a fucking good thing that we are forced into the closet. like, when I got my IUD placed, I was in pain for days and days, but I only took one sick day because i would have needed a doctor's note to take more and I didn't want the letterhead to be from an ob/gyn. I worked manual labor at the time and it was fucking PUNISHING having to deal with that level of pain with no reprieve. to say nothing of the way I was always terrified that my coworkers would find out and ridicule me or worse. nothing about being stealth ever made me feel safe. at one job I worked with a client who was a known sexual abuser (he had multiple accusations of groping people) who was extremely homophobic and had been known to harass female staff, and it was like he could smell that I was different. he hated me in particular and I never figured out exactly why but I think it was because my body was more feminine looking than the other male staff (the organization tried to avoid putting female staff with him as much as possible). he threatened to kill me once and that was with him not knowing I'm trans. I feel like if he ever found out he would have legitimately hurt me. I had so many panic attacks at that job, so many times I ended up crying in the bathroom bc of how he behaved towards me, and I couldn't even tell my supervisor because I didn't want it to become gossip and somehow make its way to him. being stealth transmasc can be so fucking miserable is my point. hazing. sexual harassment. violence. all of that is constantly on your mind when you're trying to make sure no one can tell you have tits every day. because they DON'T see us as men when we get outed! they see us as women, not only women, but mannish women (which is the worst kind to a lot of people) - they see us as *failed women.* tainted women. if women are seen as property by the patriarchy then trans men are seen as broken toys.

thank you so much for taking the time to share your story, i really appreciate it. i am so sorry you've been through this but you are so fucking right. the second a trans man is outed the people around them CEASE to see them as men. it's dangerous as hell because now they have to deal with being treated like a "tranny dyke" or a "Confused lesbian" or just a cis woman. it's disgusting. ive seen it happen to me in real time on many, many occasions. especially around other trans people. i'm transmasc & transfem because i'm intersex, and the second the trans punks i was friends with found out i'm transmasc they started treating me like a cis woman and being misogynistic as hell about it. this crap is real and it's affecting people in real time

they see us as failed women. tainted women. if women are seen as property by the patriarchy then trans men are seen as broken toys.

i hear these sentiments so much time and time again. so many people end up hearing these sentiments. this is something that gets repeated to us over and over and over again.

thank you for sharing your story. take care of yourself. be safe

transandrophobia is real.

[beef-brisket]

((I'm scared to imagine where Lucifer is going to find another kidney lol))

Lucifer didn't sleep at all. Neither did Michael. They were both wide awake with worry, and they were ready to go up against anything that moved or looked at them wrong.

Michael paroled outside. He was used to his father's violence, but seeing his blood on his hands was something else. But as much as he loved his father, he knew the dangers of living for such a long time.

The mind becomes weak and broken, not knowing what to believe.

Unfortunately, his father was just violent.

Lucifer, at first, parold outside of the bedroom, keeping an eye on the staircase. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt something almost akin to fear when he was in the room with Adam.

He wasn't meant to look like that. Pale from the blood loss, shivering from the cold, clutching his abdomen and curling in on himself. Even his claws were dug into his flesh as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Eventually, after Michael gave him the all-clear, Lucifer faced his fears and walked into the bedroom.

His heart broke when he saw Adam still unconscious and shaking.

Lucifer gently climbed into bed and wrapped himself, Adam. He hated this had to happen. His poor mate. Lucifer would curse his father if he didn't have more pressing things to worry about.

Once Adam felt Lucifer's tail. He grabbed it and pulled it close. Unfortunately, he also dug his claws in, but Lucifer could handle it.

Lucifer: I'm sorry, pet. I-I'm so sorry, Adam.

Adam didn't wake up. His only response was to cry and hold Lucifer as close as he could.

Monster under the bed au where Lucifer is a monster and "terrorizing" Adam?

And by terrorizing, I mean fucking. Grossly. Disgustingly.

Complete monster porn.

Oh no, are my kinks coming out again? Oh well 😉

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Don't tease me with a hot au lol

Oh, what if Adam bought a new house and that's when it starts?

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 9

AN: How have we come this far omg- Anyway, I recently hit 100 followers!!! SO I wanted to thank you all so much for your support on this journey! It's been such an amazing ride and I've loved every second. Being a part of this fandom is so fun, even if it's a jail sometimes (Looking at you Tiktok) and I just- I hope to repay the joy you guys have all given me.

This is a request! BUT I combined two requests because I had a really good idea for it! Twisted! Reader makes an appearance again!

Now, I know y'all love Teagan, and I do too! But their mains pmo so for the sake of the story they're the villain for now. Unless you main them, you're cool. This is just based on my experience and since I can't draw them pregnant this is what I need to do.

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight

Warning: Teagan gets a bad rep here, some physical violence (People get slapped), and Sl*t shaming (Reader doesn't let that shit slide though).

☁ You were ecstatic. That much was plain to see. You were practically jumping off the walls as you ran from toon to toon, each asking them the same, excited question. "Aren't you excited?!"

☁ The other three could only watch in exasperated awe as you cheered and bounced from foot to foot, trinkets bouncing off your hip. You were like a kid on Christmas, waiting at the elevator for the others willing to do a run to show up.

☁ You had finally, finally, gotten the all clear to return to distracting, even if the other three lowkey dreaded it, and were practically vibrating to return to your work.

☁ You had agreed to start at a normal run, no hunt for Dandy's twisted, and with all three of them with no pleading, which eased them just a bit. They'd be there should worst comes to worst and monitor how you were doing. If at any point you were unwell, they'd pull you from the run and work back up to what you normally were used to doing.

☁ You took what you could get in all honesty, just excited to be back, catching Pebble when he excitedly yipped up at you, his little tail wagging wildly. He was coming along as a back up. Just in case.

☁ Admittedly, the other three dragged their feet when it came to entering the elevator, even as you ran circles around them, yanking and pulling at them, urging them to hurry up.

☁ Pushing against Sprout, you groaned as he let his weight fall back, giving some grand show as to how "Gravity was increasing!", making you screech at him.

☁ You did surprise him when instead of crumbling under his weight, you stayed upright, pushing him up straight with a call for him to "Stop dragging your clown feet!"

☁ It was the four of you, Pebble, Teagan, Shelly and Glisten. Shelly too was excited as this would be her own first run as well, her own tail wagging happily behind her as you and her cheered in excitement. It was an adorable sight, really, there was a fond eye roll as the lever was pulled and the elevator brought you all to the first floor.

☁ While Sprout was trying to find common ground with Teagan about the tape situation, which she was being rather flippant about, Cosmo had cornered you with Astro's help, ticking off a number of things the keep in mind with your return to the field. You nodded along, even if they were sure you weren't listening as much as you tried to portray.

☁ "Additionally," Astro spoke up after Cosmo stopped to take a breath, the sudden glum loon on his face making you perk your attention up as you turned to him. "Your twisted is bound to be more active. We've noticed that more recently someone was turned, the more likely their twisted is to show up. If you need to, take a floor, let Pebble do it."

☁ His eyes shined with a domineering spirit you very rarely saw in the celestial, making you swallow tightly as you nodded. "I will."

☁ His eyes scanned your own before a star shard was ruffling your fur, making you yelp as you swatted at it. It made Astro chuckle as Cosmo tried not to laugh, making you squeal out a number of curses at the cake roll and celestial. The elevator opens just as the star shard retreats and Astro's gentle hand cups your cheek, pressing a hand to your lips. "Stay safe, starlight."

☁ "I will." You nod, standing and smoothing yourself out. Cosmo doesn't let you go far, wrapping his arms around you and smacking a hearty kiss onto your lips. "Just remember who's bed you sleep in, Pudding! Don't get hurt!"

☁ The unsaid threat makes a shiver spin down your spine as you turn, even if the happy fuzzies from the affections make your entire body buzz. You glance around for the final individual, making your way over to where Sprout looks ready to tear his leaves out.

☁ Teagen carried on anyway, passing you even as Glisten warned her to give you a minute. You let her go though, knowing that if they could last as long as they did without you, they'd last a few more minutes. You focused on Sprout, who took a long, deep breath before giving you a soft, tired smile. "Go get 'em, bud." He hums, setting his hands on your hips as you hold his cheeks to press a kiss to his lips. You nod happily before taking off at last, ears pricked for the twisteds.

☁ You find them quick enough, with Pebble staying nearby just in case. He's chasing his tail, you note, finishing another circle around the large boxes near broken. It seems to be a easy enough first floor, tranquil and calm with a number of fallbacks. It makes things fall into place that much easier as the machines are completed one by one.

☁ From there, floor by floor is completed each one a more welcomed reprieve than the last. There are some tensions, you note, as Sprout grows increasingly frustrated with Teagan, bringing up his concerns several times- more of you piping in as you went. Alas, she remained flippant, scoffing at each of you as if exhausted by your mere presence.

☁ You weren't sure if something had happened during your time as a twisted and subsequent recovery, but you knew Teagan always had some sort of...attitude. You tried to remain as accommodating as possible, but sometimes you just couldn't please everyone.

☁ When the elevator door opened and footsteps echoed in the hall, you tilted your head at the sound, not recognizing them right away. Looking behind you, you frowned at the faces you were faced with. Oh.

☁ "Pebble," You say, breaking the tense silence. "Stay close, buddy. I doubt this twisted is gonna like us very much." Not that any of them did, but still.

☁ You waved at your boys, who evidently didn't look thrilled at the prospect but let you go, nodding slowly as you began to take off. Your Twisted spotted you almost immediately and you felt your blood run cold at the sight.

☁ Their side oozed ichor, eyes beady and red and locked right onto you. It made you swallow as you picked up the pace, looking back at the sound of their hands hitting the floor. The development made your eyes widen as they took off much faster, claws outreached and ready to strike.

☁ You nearly tripped over your own feet, Pebble looking ready to jump in as he whines only for you to quickly recover, taking off to where you knew a good distracting spot was. You picked up a twisted Coal as well, which Pebble took so you could focus on the other twisted, even if he stayed nearby- which you appreciated.

☁ A part of you knew that he would though, as you have grown rather close with the pet rock, who slept in your bed with Blu more often than not these days. (Thats right y'all. Blu and Pebble friendship. Pebble sleeps in your bed. Coal sleeps on the floor.)

☁ So you continue, making sure you were distracting around a metal shelf, that managed to hold strong against your twisted's charging. It clanged everytime it rocked against the shelf, but you continued your little song and dance with the twisted. It was like distracting Goob or Scraps.

☁ Still, seeing your own face look like that makes your gut churn bitterly at the thought of being that at any point in time. You regret turning greatly, but if that was the only way to save Vee, you'd do it again in a heartbeat.

☁ You almost debate zoning out like you used to do, but that hope is quickly dashed at the sound of an air horn. It makes you skid to a stop as the Twisted you immediately turns tail to the other direction.

☁ You try yelling and using your ability to get them back, but they've already focused on someone else and you can't get them back until you get between them and the toon they're locked onto. Which, with your twisted, is a challenge.

☁ Anger boils in your gut as you take off once more, Pebble debating leaving the other twisted or following you. You call out a command for him to stay, which he does with a whine.

☁ You can't even help the growl of anger that slips out as you spot Teagan running, the version of you hot on her trail. You take off after her, even if your joints make their distaste known. This would be the final floor for you, you decided a while ago, promising to power through this one in the very least.

☁ You're not sure where Teagan is going, but you can't catch up. You're low on Stamina and without Astro nearby, you unfortunately just have to hope that Teagan has a trick up her sleeve.

☁ Speaking of Astro, you're practically gutted as you follow Teagan around a corner, the teacup making a beeline for the machine he was working on. You yell out for him to be aware, but have no real worry as even you've missed him a few times. He looks up, noting the situation with a nod, only to immediately gape as Teagan throws down a smoke bomb and the Twisted version of you locks onto him instead.

☁ He's trapped in a corner even as you take off once more, the version of you pouncing. It's claws dig into Astro's shoulders, making him cry out as you reactivate your ability. The twisted version of you immediately turns to you, screeching, but you pay it no mind, running in the opposite direction. Anger positively boils in your stomach as you curse and snap, acting more like a beacon than any airhorn could.

☁ You call for Pebble, making the rock run over, barking to call your Twisted's attention to him as you turned back to Astro. He was standing now, if a little woozy as you ran up to him.

☁ "Oh my GOD- I am so, so sorry. I tried catching up, but I couldn't and I didn't know you were here-" You began to babble, reaching into your inventory bag to grab...anything that could help really. You come up empty, but not for long as you see Sprout jogging down the nearby hall. You call to him and he whips his head over, eyes widening as he sees the ichor on your hands, dashing over.

☁ "We told you to be careful-" He's mid-scold when you stop him, shaking your head. "It wasn't me! Astro was hit!"

☁ Sprout pauses, face immediately taking a new tone. "Astro?" He turns and sees the claw marks on his shoulders, staining his blanket as the celestial groans. "Oh shit- Okay, yeah, let's get you to elevator, honey bun." Sprout bends down to scoop up the other main, making him groan. He goes to tell you to follow, not having the mental capacity to track both you and an injured partner, but you're following anyway.

☁ "I don't have any meds." You mutter forlorn, immediately looking defeated. Sprout frowns at that, giving a sigh. "I don't have enough tapes. I told Teagan there would be enough for both of us, but does she listen? No."

☁ "I'm sor-" Astro begins to groan, but you cut him off with a barked "Don't." Sprout raises a brow at your sudden temper, never knowing you to be one to act so...aggresively? You've always been a happy go-lucky angel of a being, never failing to light up the room with a smile.

☁ But to see you? Snarling with anger and sharp teeth on display, leftover from your time as a newly turned twisted? It makes his skin bristle. "What happened?"

☁ "That airhorn?" You practically spit. "Teagan blew it. Took the twisted from me and led them right to Astro! Then smoke bombed and let him take the hit!" You're seething and Sprout blinks in surprise at this, looking down at Astro. The Celestial's eyes are wide, looking between you and Sprout himself, as if uncertain how to go from there.

☁ Sprout wasn't sure either, simply taking you both to the elevator. Glisten and Cosmo are already there, hiding behind a box. Just as Sprout's about to call to Glisten the directions to the last machine, it goes off and the Elevator opens.

☁ Sprout quickly ducks inside, calling Cosmo over. The cake roll immediately gets to work, digging into his inventory for a first aid kit, getting to work on Astro's wounds. The celestial pouts, but sits, having seen first hand what Cosmo's glare is like when you dared disobeying.

☁ Admittedly, Sprout's still watching you. You're standing at the brink of the elevator, positively livid, but waiting. Like a predator would wait for its prey. You're poised, muscles tight and ready to strike the first chance you loosen your iron clad will just the tiniest bit.

☁ If nothing else, he's excited. To see you? The peachy keen, bushy-tailed, absolutely beaming beacon of hope and sunshines and rainbows and everything nice in the world absolutely let lose? Oh he's buzzing. Even if it's quelled a bit as Astro squeezes his hand, cursing at the sudden infectant on his wound.

☁ Glisten himself steps inside, with Shelly jogging in soon after. Pebble makes his appearance with a yip, immediately running to Astro's side with a wag in his tail, even if he whines at the main.

☁ Then, you're prey arrives. She's panting as she turns the corner, the elevator slamming down behind her as she bends down to lay her hands on her knees.

☁ Everyone is watching you, and your boys are sure you know it. Sprout swears on his life that your eyes flash red as you stalk over to her, growling as you do with a sneer on your lips.

☁ "Where were you so-called-distractors?!" Teagan snaps, turning to you with an indignant scowl on her face. "I nearly got hit!"

☁ "Oh. did you?" The snarl on your face falls for a second, replaced with a grin so sweet even Cosmo avoids looking over too long, cleaning the last of Astro's wound before pressing a bandage to it and a parting kiss. It makes Astro grin before he's gently pressing his own peck to Cosmo's head, immediately turning his attention back to you.

☁ Astro debates stopping you, but figures she's more than earned it with the attitude she's been giving Sprout all day.

☁ "That's funny." You continue, stepping close enough that every step forward makes Teagan take one back before she's pressed against a wall. Faster than any of them can react, your hand snaps out, claws digging into the metal of the wall, and this time Sprout's sure there's a flicker of red. "Because you know who did get hurt? Huh? After someone blew an airhorn? Then led the twisted right to him? Then smokebombed to ensure they saw him? Because I do."

☁ Teagan tries looking for an escape, but you're domineering in every aspect of the word. You're not even focused on them and Sprout wants to bow his head in shame.

☁ It's in your stance, the tone of your voice and your general aura around you. You're enraged and everyone in the elevator knows it.

☁ Everyone, but apparently Teagan. After realizing she doesn't have one, she rolls her shoulder and stands straight, getting in your face despite the snarl on your features. "If he would've moved, it wouldn't have happened! He's as much to blame. In fact, if anyone is to blame, it's you!"

☁ Pebble barks at this angrily, running up to your side, but he's momentarily ignored as whatever patience you had snapped. "MY FAULT?! You blew an airhorn for no reason. We had it under control. You've been a selfish, greedy bitch this entire time with no regards for anyone but yourself! You refuse to share tapes with Sprout, constantly get in mine and Pebble's way and damn near took a medkit from Cosmo! You're snotty at the best of times and too righteous for what I know you've done at the worst. I get your family system has a metric fuck-ton of drama going on, most of it self-inflicted by the way, but that does not give you the excuse to take that out on us, especially not my family."

☁ Teagan gapes as the elevator moves to return to the Lobby, Glisten standing by the lever with a grimace on his face as he stared at Teagan. Shelly is avoiding looking at either you or Teagan, making sure Astro is okay while Cosmo finishes up. Pebble is dashing between you and Sprout, whimpering up a storm.

☁ Sprout himself is watching carefully, torn between stepping between you two and letting you handle yourself. You're on a thin fuse and it's been snipped from her accusations. But Teagan has been a pain for awhile, the drama between her and Rodger reaching several boiling points which she takes out on the rest of the toons. It makes Sprout snarl to himself at the thought, keeping to his spot beside the other two. Astro, at least, looks thoroughly entertained and Cosmo seems neutral about the whole ordeal.

☁ There's a crack in the elevator and Sprout's immediately looking over. Your head is snapped to the left, cheek already looking swollen as Teagen's raised hand quivers. There are tears in her eyes, but she's just as angry as you're slowly looking.

☁ Sprout steps forward to intervene, but Astro's tail swipes against his knees, pulling his attention to the celestial, who shakes his head. So Sprout stills an watches as you move your jaw.

☁ "You have no idea what I've been through! You have no right to mention that! It's not my fault you- you sell yourself out! You're cheap and a dime-a-dozen toon! You should stay in your lane before I force you back into it!" Teagan snaps, clenching her hands.

☁ You look back at her, almost stunned but you quickly recover. "Let me make this one thing explicitly clear to you." You begin, tone chilling the air in the elevator. "Everyone knows what happened between you and Rodger. How? We've heard your screaming matches for weeks. Either break-up or don't. Just figure it the fuck out, if nothing else but Toodle's sake. Second," You hold up a second finger, eyes narrowing. "If you think for one ounce of a second that your relationship is anything comparable to mine, I have some bad news for you. There is nothing even remotely similar between our relationships. Ours is healthy, but you wouldn't know anything about that now would you. And third," You pause.

☁ Then there's another crack and Teagan is backed against the wall. "If you ever lay your hands on me again, I'll feed you to a twisted." You glower just as the elevator opens. You look at it then at your boys, grinning like normal.

☁ "C'mon, lets get Astro to bed. He's injured so he loses rights to complain about getting babied."

☁ "I do not!"

☁ Sprout's already laughing as he carries Astro to your room, Cosmo coming up behind you with an arm around your waist. He waits until you're out of earshot of the others before nudging you. "That was pretty hot, you know, pudding."

☁ You flush before laughing, pushing him away by his face. "Yeah, yeah, keep it to yourself. Don't you have a celestial to heal?"

☁ Cosmo snickers, pressing a kiss to your lips under the guise of healing you just as Pebble runs up to join you guys, beating you to your own room where he sits with Blueberry cake against Astro.

☁ Pebble isn't sure what really went on, but watching you laugh again makes it all seem alright.

☁ Even if it was at the expense of Teagan.

☁ She seemed like a cat lady anyway.

[izvmimi]

cw: canon-typical violence. reader is female and not japanese. mention of an arranged marriage.

On a day like today, where no amount of electrolyte-dense water can fix the headache pounding in Shin’s temples, braving the heart of Tokyo’s city center might as well be a Herculean task.

This could be overstimulating for anyone in his predicament of course, but with Shin’s added gift of telepathy, it might as well be hell. The background noise of thoughts meshed from throngs of people are particularly loud today, and he concentrates on silencing them further. This helps briefly - the commotion turns into a slight hum as if he’s turned on noise canceling headphones, and he’s about to turn on his actual earbuds to drown out chatter until he passes by a cafe…

… and picks up abruptly on one of the loudest thoughts he’s ever heard in his entire life.

This is sooooooo fucking annoying, I can’t believe I have to do this.

The complaint is so loud and clear, he almost wonders if someone is yelling directly at him, like a missive from the heavens itself. And the sound keeps going, a flurry of words of annoyance and defeat. He doesn’t understand what the voice is talking about, and turning around quickly, he sees no one looking in his direction, and the people that walk past him paying no mind to him seem engrossed enough in their conversations that they could not possibly have been the source of the whining. 

To his right, there’s a rather upscale French-style cafe with outside seating, and patrons are seated in singles, doubles and triples. When he undulls his senses, there are a million conversations again that come back flooding into his stream of consciousness - a bunch of girls who are both agreeing that the third one in the group is dreadfully annoying, one man worrying about the eventual bill based on his date’s wanton ordering, and a waitress who is counting down the shift by the seconds even though it’s only half past noon.

Shin doesn’t realize he’s standing still, staring directly at another human being, until he makes eye contact with the source of the thought.

You.

Shit, did I say that out loud?

You’re wide-eyed, and looking straight at him, as if you’re reading his thoughts instead of him reading yours. A young woman, who looks about his age or slightly younger, but dressed somewhat formally for the occasion, in what looks like a skirt suit, tailored. Expensive earrings, and the type of hairstyle fits the word ‘elegant’ but not elderly. Non-Japanese, he thinks, then berates himself for making an assumption about your background. A face that doesn’t match the hostility of your thoughts, he thinks, pretty he’d go so far as to say. 

Then he realizes he’s also staring and almost raises his hands to reassure you that he didn’t hear you before remembering that such a move is even more incriminating. Embarrassed, he makes a 180 quickly, raising his hood over his head and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Close one, he thinks to himself, but then your voice comes directly to him again.

Oh man, I must have looked so hostile that I worried him, he hears you think again, but then you go so far as to apologize to him in your head, muttering something about having to try to find the bright side of things. 

Shin has to admit he’s curious. Who are you? Who are you waiting for? There isn’t a chance you’re clairvoyant as well, is there?

Slipping just slightly out of view, he stays close to the wall. He has to admit that he considers that this might be a creepy misuse of his powers, but it’s rare, and when you’re thinking that loudly, he can’t exactly force you out of his mind, can he?

I just have to smile and nod. Just a few minutes of smiling and nodding and maybe I’ll say one or two things that will make it clear that I’m not worth marrying and then I can go back to my life. 

So, it’s a date, Shin concludes. None of his business, although he’s surprised people still consider arranged marriages these days. He wonders briefly if perhaps you are a bit more of a high profile person despite how… unrefined your internal monologue is, then takes another step to continue towards his destination, but your internal voice starts up again.

But if their family is only sending a mediator, why should I be here in the flesh all alone? How can Uncle not realize this is stupid? Unsafe even?

Shin has to agree with this himself. If not just nervous that he was staring directly at you like some kind of psycho, you seemed a bit distressed in general. The same curiosity that keeps him in close proximity, eavesdropping like a nosy neighbor despite the fact that he should probably return to the store soon, keeps him wondering more.

Where do you come from? What’s your name?

I want to go home so bad…

This last thought of yours is laden with less complaint but more sorrow, enough that he actually feels it start to form, a heavy sinking feeling, in the pit of his stomach. 

This is not good.

Shin finally decides that he has to leave before he ends up getting involved in unexpected trouble, and that’s when he senses it.

A second, much more cruel voice.

—

Everything seems to happen in a blur for you. One minute, you’re looking down at your phone, trying to decide if leaving after fifteen minutes of a no-show is permissible even when it has to do with supposed marriage prospects, and brainstorming ways to dissipate your poor uncle and guardian’s anger, the next you’ve been practically tackled out of your seat by a stranger in a hoodie, who hovers on top of view, while onlookers scream. 

“Keep your head down!”

Bullets are louder in real life than in the movies, it seems, you think, dazed. Glass around you shatters, blood splatters, and bodies hit the ground. You’re not sure where the shots are coming from, just that they seem to be hitting everyone and everything in that godforsaken cafe but you, and you’re being carried off, somewhere, you’re not sure.

It’s the same man who gave you a weird look earlier, the one who’d been privy to your natural resting bitch face, who seems to be running at full speed now, you in tow, tucked in his arms. In what direction, you don’t know, just that he’s saved you. 

He’s fast on your feet, and you’re secure against him, but your head spins.

What’s going on? You think; your lips open but your brain is too unfocused to remember how to move them.

“I’ll explain later!”

You can’t see his face as he speaks, but the young man’s voice is loud enough to show concern yet calm enough that somehow, implicitly, you trust him.

You haven’t even said anything yet, but you nod and the sheer rush of adrenaline, combined with jet lag from many hours not yet recovered from your flight, have you drift out of consciousness.

...

You wake up hours later in what seems to be the back of a convenience store. You don't know it yet, but it will be the safest place you'll ever know.

[nick-writes-stuff]

20 Questions

Hwang In-ho x gn!reader

summary: You and Young-il made a quick but strong connection during the games, both being observant and quick-witted. He was fascinated by your shift from selflessness to self-preservation after the attempted uprising. When you make it out of the games, In-ho invites you to play one last game with him, and how could you resist?

!warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, manipulation/lying to an extent, swearing

a/n: I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE! i'm working on another in-ho one after this. it's gonna be a follow-up to the one-sided reunion!! hope you enjoy <3

While in the games, you were quickly inspired by Gi-hun's plans to try to save everyone. You tried to help as many people as you could, and when you weren't helping, you were observing.

In-ho quickly took notice of your curiosity. You could be looking around the room but still be able to hold a conversation with one of your allies. He watched your face scrunch up in confusion after he predicted the next number in Mingle. The others were convinced with his explanation, but you were still hung up on it, and he could tell.

You and Young-il really hit it off. You both were practically attached at the hip. While others kept watch in near silence, you both talked in hushed whispers the whole time. You wanted to know everything about him. You really liked him. He would always do nice things for you, like offering you his milk before asking anyone else or sticking up for you when anyone slighted you. While you were with him, it made this place seem less like hell.

When they were asking for volunteers for the uprising, he had expected you to volunteer quickly, but you didn't. You stood quietly near Geum-ja and her son, trying to avert your gaze. You just had a bad feeling about this. And you were right, seeing as only Dae-ho and Hyun-ju would make it back alive.

Hearing the words “Player 1, eliminated” shook you to your core. You went quiet after that, hardly talking to anyone even as Jun-hee tried to comfort you.

After the mutiny, the games continued, and they were even more horrific. Not only were you socially distant, but you no longer had your selfless nature either. You wanted out of the games, but if the Os were gonna keep you in here, then you were willing to do what you needed to do. You didn't want them to ruin your life, but the decisions you made would certainly haunt you. By that point, there were only seven of you left. You, Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, Dae-ho, Player 7, Thanos's promoter, and another O who you didn't know. Even though there were 2 Os, it was a unanimous vote. Their greed was sated with the 6.41 billion won they got to walk away with. The idea that any of you got to take the cash was sickening, but especially those two.

You didn't know what would happen once you voted to leave. Gi-hun hadn't mentioned what happened after he won. Part of you thought you would be killed immediately. But you weren't. You were all led into the room behind the rolling door. Then you heard a hiss as the tranquilizer gas flooded the room.

-

You expected to wake up somewhere in Seoul. Maybe in the van that you got into to travel to the games in the first place. But you woke up in a rather comfortable armchair in a small but luxurious apartment.

You looked around, trying to get a sense of what kind of place you were in. There was a small model of a jazz club, a rotary phone, and a couch facing several large monitors.

“I was wondering how long you'd be out for.”

You froze for a moment. You didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. Well, did you really know him? You did turn around and met his gaze. He was undeniably Young-il, but he had been able to clean himself up since you saw him last. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was slicked back with gel. He was in all black like he was about to go to the funeral for the 448 other players who died. It was difficult, but you tried not to admire his new appearance.

The fact that he was still alive and seemingly in a position of power in the games was frightening. He was lying to all of you the whole time, concealing his true identity. Was anything he said to you real? Was it all manipulation like everything else? Your heart ached when you realized he was probably playing you just like he was everyone else.

“Why am I here?” You asked. Your face and tone were neutral. You concealed the spiral your thoughts were going down.

He sat down across from you, holding a glass of alcohol in his hand. “I was hoping we could play a game.” He said.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

He smirked at your reaction. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Humor me?” He asked.

You weren't entirely certain about this. He probably wasn't going to kill you. He could have done that already. But you figured there had to be some kind of catch. “What game?” You asked.

“20 questions.” He said.

This confused you more. “Like the icebreaker game?”

He nodded. “I ask you 10 questions and you ask me 10 questions. And we have to answer honestly.” He said.

“Are you just using this as an excuse to talk to me?” You asked. He seemed somewhat shocked at your question. “Why does everything need to be games with you people?” You asked. You wanted to remain neutral, but your face betrayed you as your lips curled into a smirk.

He laughed. That was probably the first time he had laughed since before the bathroom brawl in the games. “You know, it is kind of our thing here.” He quipped.

“What's the catch?” You asked. There had to be an ulterior motive behind this, right? It seemed like everything he did had an ulterior motive.

He chuckled. “We both get what we want. You get answers. I get insight.”

“Why is my insight so important to you?” You asked. Your tone was genuine. Gi-hun had never mentioned anything like this happening when he won the games. This was clearly a special occasion here.

“You impressed me. You are clever and analytical, but you still have a selfless and heroic nature. Not many players have both. Watching you play was fascinating.” He said. His tone was also genuine. You felt your cheeks heat up, blushing due to the praise.

You should hate him. He orchestrated the horrific death games you just took part in, and he's likely responsible for the deaths of thousands of other struggling people. He killed your friends. He had only lied and deceived and manipulated you. So how could you possibly want to talk to him? Why did you feel giddy at the fact you impressed him?

You gave a soft smile. “Okay.” You agreed.

He smiled as well. “Since you're my guest, I think you should go first.” He offered.

“What's your name?” You asked quickly. You chuckled, “Because we both know it's not Young-il.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that wasn't my strongest cover. My name is In-ho.”

You repeated him, testing out his true name. He loved hearing it in your voice.

“Now that we're on a first name basis,” He started, that line getting a chuckle from you. “Which game would you say was your favorite?

You answered instinctively with “Six-legged pentathlon” without even thinking of how messed up that question was. People died in that game. That experience should have been traumatic, but you considered it your favorite?

He only nodded in response. You didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. “Have you ever played in the games before this time?” You asked him.

He smirked. “Yeah I have. I won back in 2018. What made you think that?” He asked.

“Is that your next question?” You asked cheekily. A mischievous grin plastered your face.

He rolled his eyes. “Is that your next question?” He repeated with a slight glare, but you could easily tell he was messing with you.

“Three reasons. One: You were just really calm and unphased by everything. Two: You beat the shit out of Thanos easily. Three: You killed that man during Mingle, and you just had a look in your eye. Like it wasn't the first time you were forced into that situation.” You explained.

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Astute observations.” He mused before continuing. “Why do you think I rejoined the games?”

You thought for a moment. “I feel like watching Gi-hun was the main reason, but you kind of always seemed like you were just pushing his buttons. It's like you were testing him almost.” You said, trailing a bit at the end as you tried to figure out how you wanted to phrase it.

He didn't respond. You took that as a sign to continue on with the game.

You sighed. “Why did you join the games?” You asked. You made a face like you were thinking before clarifying, “Like back in 2018, I mean.”

He frowned slightly. You thought you asked a question you shouldn't have, but he was only reacting to the memory he was recalling.

“Before I joined, I was married with a kid on the way. But I got laid off from my job, and my wife got really sick and… treatments were expensive. I racked up debt quickly, and soon, I got a business card.” He said.

You sighed. “That sounds awful. I'm so sorry. Is she okay?” You said softly. You shouldn't feel sympathy for him. You could see his jaw clench slightly as he took a sip of his drink.

He decided not to mention that it was his turn to ask a question. He shook his head. “No. After I won, I rushed to the hospital and… they were both gone.” He said, voice notably quieter. He took a swig of the drink. He wasn't mad. He was just bitter, and he didn't like to think of her often. You felt bad for even asking in the first place. You should have known better than to ask that. Before you could apologize for overstepping with a personal question, he dished one to you as well.

“Which player did you trust the most?” He said. He already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it from you.

You swallowed hard, eyes moving to watch you fidgeting with your fingers. “You.” You looked up to see him smirking at your answer. For some reason, that smirk really ate at you. He's so happy that his deceit and manipulation paid off, isn't he?

He was just glad the feeling he felt was mutual.

You didn't try to elaborate or explain. You just kept going. Maybe the tension would let up after a bit.

“How did you become the… what did Gi-hun call it?” You asked, failing to remember the exact words.

“The Front Man?” He offered.

You nodded, “Yeah, that's the word. How did you get the job as the Front Man?”

“It wasn't unlike joining the games. One day, I got a business card telling me to go to a specific location. There I met the Host and we talked. He was impressed by my performance in the games, and he said I had potential. I was still angry at the world for everything, and I said yes.” He said. He didn't delve into it deeper because he knew the specifics wouldn't make him sound great. Maybe it was wrong to spin the truth, but there was no way you could figure out it's a lie.

“A follow-up to my last question: who in our alliance did you trust the least?” He asked. This was the first question that was a leading one. He wanted to see if you had any distrust in your team even though you seemed you would have taken a bullet for them.

You took a deep breath. “If I'm being honest-”

“The rules require honesty.” He said, smirking.

You glared at him with little malice. “It's a turn of phrase.” You said shortly. “As I was saying…”

“I never really knew how I felt about Gi-hun.” You said.

He hid his reaction, but internally, he had a shit-eating grin. It was almost like the end of a rivalry. Gi-hun's method didn't work. He was able to gain your trust, and the man who thought he could convince everyone to play the game fairly. It wasn't as black and white as Gi-hun had thought.

You grimaced at your statement, making a noise like you weren't sure. You felt bad talking bad about him when he was trying his best to help everyone around him. “I mean, I just felt like he knew too much, and he was holding out on us. Like at some point, he wouldn't warn us of danger just so he could get ahead.” You said. You didn't think that made you feel any better about saying that, but then you thought of something else.

“Wait, what happened to him? And Jung-bae, too. We never saw them get eliminated.” You asked.

He raised the glass to his lips. You were starting to think he took a drink anytime he didn't want to answer a question.

“Jung-bae died in the mutiny, and Gi-hun is as good as dead. The VIPs have plans for him.” He said tensely. His choice of words only left you with many more questions, but you didn't have the chance to ask any of them.

“Do you regret anything you did to win in the games?” His face was neutral, and it put you on edge for some reason.

You took a deep breath before meeting his gaze. You shook your head. You did things in the games that you would never admit to another person, but that doesn't mean you regretted it. “I did what I had to.” You said quietly.

He nodded. “I understand the feeling.” He said, tone just as soft as the nights spent on watch with him. Your heart fluttered at the sound.

You continued the game after a moment. “Was the mutiny something you planned?” You asked.

“We knew Gi-hun would try something, so we made a procedure. But we didn't make it happen ourselves.” He said. That was true. He knew Gi-hun had the mindset to try to take them down. He tracked the Recruiter for 3 years until he managed to find him and kill him. The takeover was also always intended to be when Young-il was eliminated, no matter how soon it happened.

“Speaking of Gi-hun, you seemed to think the same way he did toward the beginning of the games, but something eventually shifted in you. I noticed that after you thanked me for killing that man during Mingle. What started that shift in your thinking?” He asked. He was very interested in your answer to this question.

“I just wanted to get out. Gi-hun tried to make that happen, but in the end it didn't work.” You said. You began fidgeting with your fingers, afraid to look him in the eye. You hated the fact that you were willing to do the things that you did, but you would do that again in a heartbeat because you're safe now. “After the mutiny when we voted and the Xs still lost, something broke in me. If they weren't going to let us leave, then I needed to take matters into my own hands.” You murmured. You wiped a stray tear from your cheek as covertly as you could.

He hated seeing you cry. He wished he could take back the question, but that's not possible. He decided to try to break the tension and give the conversation time to breathe. “I just realized that I never asked. Is there anything I can get you?” He asked. His eyes were full of concern.

You cleared your throat before speaking. “Some water would be nice.” You said softly.

As he stood up to retrieve it, you started taking deep breaths to try to regain your composure. You looked around the room, and your eyes landed on the model of a jazz club. The musician figures looked to be small animatronics. You didn't even hear him reenter the room.

“It's a music box.” He said. You jumped a bit at his voice. He chuckled at your reaction. You smiled sheepishly. He took a step toward you, holding out a water bottle to you. You took it from him with a soft, “Thank you.”

He sat down at his chair as you took a sip of the drink. You didn't realize how thirsty you were.

“I believe it's your turn to ask a question.” He said.

You spoke as you twisted the cap onto the bottle. “Were you actually in danger while you were playing the games?”

He thought about it for a moment. “We planned for mostly everything in the games themselves, but if something had happened in the dorms, I couldn't do much about it.” He said.

You nodded. “I thought so. You weren't even in Red Light Green Light.” You said.

He was genuinely surprised by the fact you realized. “I didn't think anyone would have noticed that.”

You laughed. “I was trying to observe as much as possible at the beginning, and I definitely would have noticed you.” You said it without thinking but then realized what your words meant. Your cheeks flushed, and in a desperate attempt to break eye contact, you took a drink from your water.

In-ho was growing concerned about the feeling inside his stomach. He would have pegged it as a somatic symptom if it wasn't in this situation. Were there butterflies in his stomach? After you implied you found him attractive? He wasn't used to this feeling. It had been years since he experienced this. It reminded him of meeting his wife, but this felt even more exhilarating. He had thought he'd never feel it again, so getting to encounter this long forgotten feeling amplified it tenfold.

The quiet and intimate tension was getting to be too much for you, so you tried to change the subject. “You never told me. What song does the music box play?”

He cleared his throat. “Um, it's Fly Me to the Moon.” He said, trying desperately to keep his voice from wavering.

“Like the Sinatra song?” You asked.

He nodded. “I can turn it on if you want to hear it.” He offered.

“No, it's okay.” You said. You looked over to the music box before back at him. “I don't want to delay the game, you know.” You murmured, hoping it would get you both back on track.

You wanted to be distracted from the fact you feared he was messing with your feelings even now.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He murmured. “What is this? Question 14 now?” He asked. You nodded.

Neither of you would say it, but you both wished you had decided on a higher number.

“What do you have planned when you go back to your normal life?” He asked.

You were a bit taken aback from the non-related question. It seemed unrelated to you, but he was asking to see if you had anything to return to.

“Um…” You trailed. “I mean, I have some debt to square away. I don't really have anything else out there.” You said. You realized this was moving in a negative direction, so you pivoted. “I always wanted to open a bakery, though.” You said. That had always been your first thought when daydreaming about what you would do if you won the lottery. Well, until your debt, that is.

It felt wrong to say it, but he was glad you didn't have anything to fall back on.

“My turn.” You said. You thought for a moment before asking your question. “What is the philosophy behind the games?” You asked. You had a general idea, but you wanted to hear it from him.

He sighed. This felt like a precarious position to be in. One wrong word, and you could turn on him. “My predecessor started the games because he thought it was the best way to change society. He was giving them a chance to change their life, and if they couldn't seize it, then killing them was mercy. In the outside world, they would be suffering slowly as they got more into debt.” He said. He phrased that carefully, implying that he didn't entirely agree. He had hoped his phrasing had flown under the radar, but it didn't.

“What do you think about that? Do you think that could be true?” He asked you.

“Is that your question?” You asked, genuinely trying to see if that's what he intended. He nodded.

You took a deep breath. “I definitely don't think it's as black and white as your predecessor thought it was.” You said. You took a sip from your water. “I don't know if I agree on the mercy part. None of that felt like mercy. But I guess that would be better than organ harvesting.”

He tried not to react to your words, but he was glad you were able to rationalize it. Your view was still fluid, not as rigid. It would be easy to sway you. He hated phrasing it like that, but that was technically what he was doing.

You looked over at him. “What about you? Do you think it's the right thing?” You asked.

He sighed softly. “There was a period where I got disillusioned and thought there was a better way.” He said. He finished the drink in his hand, leaning to set the empty glass on a nearby end table. “But after seeing the games end by a vote and seeing the number of people who choose to return… I think this is the right thing for society.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “That's an option?”

He nodded. “If Gi-hun would have had his way after Red Light Green Light, the players would have been given a chance to return.” He said. He saw an opportunity to make a case for the games. “You know, in Gi-hun's games they voted to leave after the first game. 93% of them returned. Even Gi-hun came back.” He said.

You took a second to process that. “That's…” you said, not being able to convey your thoughts. The words just couldn't come together.

He looked over at you. “If we had voted to leave after the first game, would you have come back to play again?” That wasn't one of the questions he had prepared (and yes, he did prepare questions), but it seemed like a fitting follow-up.

You fidgeted with the cap of the water bottle you were holding. “As much as I wanted to get out, I think I would have realized that this was my chance if I had to go back out and face it all.” You said softly.

This was the last question. There was one question that had been weighing on your mind. You couldn't stop thinking about it, but you also couldn't make yourself ask it. The idea had filled you with anxiety and doubt, but now that this could very well be the last time you spoke to him, you built up the courage to ask it.

“This has been weighing on my mind the whole time…” You began, “And I didn't want to ask, but I think this is my last shot.” You felt your eyes well up with tears, and you willed them not to fall. You met his gaze, and his dark eyes filled with concern.

“I thought we had some kind of connection back in the games. The hushed whispers on the night watch and the protectiveness during Mingle.” You started, trying your best to keep your voice from breaking.

His eyes widened slightly. It wasn't at your statement itself, but just the fact he was realizing the feeling was mutual after all. But your next words chipped away at his typically hardened exterior.

“Was any of that real or were you just fucking with me the whole time?” At that you started crying even though you felt like an idiot for doing so. Your hands were starting to tremble somewhat and your eyes focused on them to avoid looking him in the eye. “I'm just scared that I was just a game to you too.” You murmured softly.

In an instant, he sprung from his seat. He knelt in front of you, looking up into your eyes. “Hey, look at me.” He said quietly, reaching his hand to your face. His hand rested on your cheek, gently moving your head to look at him while also using his thumb to wipe the tears from your face.

You were shaking now, but your eyes gazed into his, and there was something so calming about the moment. Your face almost felt electric from the soft contact.

“I meant everything I said and did, okay? Every interaction I had with you was genuine, and it was the first time I felt comfortable being myself around another person in a very long time.” He said. You noticed his eyes getting glassy as well, but you didn't say anything about it. “I'm so glad the feeling is mutual.” His voice was soft, and it made you melt. But then you realized what he said.

“It is?” You asked, almost dumbfounded. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, unable to contain all of the glee inside of you.

“Why else do you think you're here?” He asked jokingly. You smiled shyly. “I don't do this for just anyone.” He wiped a stray tear from your cheek. It was a happy one this time.

After a moment, you spoke up. “You have one last question to ask.” You said. You were mostly joking, but his knowing look and smirk made you feel somewhat anxious but mostly excited.

He met your eyes. “Do you want to stay here with me?” He asked. He took a deep breath. “You don't have to help with the games at all. You can just stay with me in the apartment and-” He was cut off by your arms wrapping around him. You had moved off the chair and fell to your knees. You buried your face in the crook of his neck. The smell of his cologne was calming.

He pulled you into an embrace as well. He took that as your answer.

In the end, he could hear Il-nam's voice in the back of his mind telling him that In-ho won the game. Just like Gi-hun, you decided to continue playing games with people's lives. Gi-hun watched that homeless man suffer in the cold on the night of Il-nam's death, and you gave In-ho your thoughts on the games, knowing he would use the information to adapt and improve the games.

But that wasn't in the forefront of his mind, not even close. He wasn't even thinking about the games at all. He was just happy that his position in the games didn't ruin the first genuine connection he had made in the last 7 years. He was thinking about the fact that holding you felt so right. You gave him a spark of hope that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

[playertwotails]

@insert-skill-here YEEEESS that, Tails being the verge of supervillain at all times only for Sonic to be the voice of "hey you're at an 11 bring it back to an 7" is def a character dynamic I love to see for them.

Also @theaussieblue thank you for the examples. Tails is basically a rated MA for violence character stuck in a PG-13 world (him, Shadow and Eggman really lol all them said these hands are E for everyone)

Tails is just such a sneaky little guy that here with one goal and one goal only and that is to to be a PROBLEM to whoever he doesn't like. Especially when he's on his own and not following behind Sonic's flashy entrances. He doesn't care to be fair, he has a target and he knows he needs to take them down. Heck he did the same thing with Kit in the comics and basically betraying him (with a fairly good reason but he still did that) in order to take him out.

And also @sailing-ever-west these tags are amazing

And I do think Tails is considered smarter than Eggman and Eggman somewhat knows it, he sort of a little admitted it in Frontiers that he recognizes how smart Tails is.

And I mean he can keep up with and override Eggman's stuff at 8 years old imagine how quickly he's gonna outpace Eggman. Kid ain't even in the double digits yet and already figuratively and literally running circles around the guy. Heck he almost had a cure for the zombot invasion that Eggman couldn't figure out. He also made a fake working chaos emerald long before Eggman gave it a shot, and even then Tails' was more stable then what Eggman came up with. (I am behind on the IDW comics though, that's just the arc I was in the middle of reading last)

But also I love Shadow and Tails bonding stuff, they just would get along so well in canon if they let them.

I've said it once and I'll say it a million more times but I would love to see Tails just go absolute Predator mode on what ever villains they go up against.

It's just he's got all the skills displayed in so many different games, comics, shows, etc. that just when combined Tails should be the biggest issue for anyone they go up against.

Forces had to nerf him back into a scared child cause if they let him actually be in character Eggman would have been dead by the end of the week.

Heck I love Whisper but I have a headcanon that Tails is just as good a sniper as her but instead uses a blaster since he's usually more close combat. And it's not even really a headcanon we've seen Tail be able to calculate trajectories flawlessly multiple times, you think he couldn't do the same with a sniper??

I just want a Tails that drops all the fun and games and kindness he has for one second and he basically becomes the abyss that stares back to their villains. And they all just have that collective moment of "oh we don't piss off that one ever cause we will die"

I want one man army Tails that neither gods nor demons could stop when he puts his mind to absolutely destroying someone