#truly truly had enough… i need to start detaching

[diaz-fox]

how do i stop being the one that cares more in most (if not all) of my relationships because i’m honestly getting kinda tired of it

[stellarsagittarius]

⏳️🪐 12th House and How Your Mental Anguish Affects You 🪐⏳️

Exchange readings: Open: You (Tarot) x Me (Astrology)

12H ruler in 1H

Imma give you a hug first, okay. What you have gone through, like the experiences that you have had with the world at large, all that you have seen in your life, you internalized it all. You have sort of taken it upon you to be the witness of the suffering around you. Because you feel it all so personally. The person you have become, the thoughts and beliefs you carry are the way they are because of the absurdity of life that you have felt so deeply. It has shaped you, a lot. Next time, try to detach. It is not about you, it was never about you, it about them. You are observing, not absorbing.

12H ruler in 2H

When you are at that lowest point, second guessing everything, it really does affect your ability to manage your resources. And more often than not it can make you feel like you are not worth-it, or that you simply do not deserve to be happy. Especially if you have Chiron in the 2H too, it can feel suffocating because you keep on doing thing, trying to make it work, but you never feel like you did enough. Affirm to yourself about your successes, keep a gratitude journal and remind yourself that your need/wants are all valid.

12H ruler in 3H

You can completely obsess over finding out the reasoning behind why certain things happen the way it did. It's like you want to understand, you want to make actual sense out of it, why your problems are causing you the things that are happening. This can lead to a detachment from actually allowing yourself to feel things out and like emotionally get in a better shape first. You can get stressed out about the facts, a lot of the times. Perhpas communication is something you truly struggle with. Talk it out with someone, understand your feelings first and then a lot of the facts will start to make sense too.

12H ruler in 4H

A lot of your turbulent thoughts and experiences affect you very deeply, like the depth which can make you question your entire existence. Now, I gotta be honest with this one, you are clearing up a lot of karma from your family lineage. You are going to the very root of the issues. Because these mental anguishes aren't surface level for you, they are seated very deeply within your psyche. You have to face these deep seated demons, otherwise you can keep them shoving them down, till it becomes completely unbearable to face yourself. On the positive note, learn to be vulnerable with yourself, learn to be more accepting of what you are going through.

12H ruler in 5H

When you are at the low point in your life, you start to put a great distance between enjoying yourself and becoming completely oblivious to your childlike nature. You need to embrace your inner child. Do what you want, but do not do it because you feel like you can't do anything else with your life. There needs to be like a balance here, between enjoying yourself and knowing when it can get destructive. Too much of anything never did good. You can struggle with finding that simplistic joy in life. So try and spend time alone for a while, maybe get a coloring book or just try and bake cookies. You don't have to be good at something to enjoy it. Even if it's loving yourself.

12H ruler in 6H

You can neglect your health like nobody's business. These thoughts, stress and anguish can manifest directly in your body. That's what it is. When you are not in a good energy, you know you need to reconnect with your body. This may come initially as a bit challenging to truly get yourself to do, but, once you build that habit over time, you will realise how much you have mastered yourself. Focus on your physical well-being. This placement is very simple. You don't need to spend time spaced out and in another world. Get down and strengthen your body, you will notice that you will start to feel much more better in your mind.

12H ruler in 7H

When you get to a low point in life, the point where you are confronted with your old habits, fears and challenging emotions, it highly reflects in your relationships (more so the romantic kind). You can easily slip into unhealthy patterns with your partners, like seeing them with rose colored glasses or not having a proper sense of boundary with them. And you may even fear that true vulnerability with them. So when that happens, seek to be honest by being polite. You are not for everyone, and the ones that are for you will always understand this. Relationship can either make you or break you, choose the people wisely.

12H ruler in 8H

At the lowest points in your life, the people who aren't by your side intentionally, remember them because they are not supposed to be a part of your life. A healthy bond is where both people are there for each other, and that's exactly what life keeps teaching you over and over again. Your biggest anguishes are be caused because of the way certain people treat you and use you for their own benefit. When that happens, remember your biggest enemy is what you do not choose to see within those who take advantage of your kind nature. Yes, we can witness everybody's suffering, but at the end of the day everybody is responsible for themselves.

12H ruler in 9H

When you are at that low point in your life, you can question your faith a lot. There is a feeling where trusting your morals can become really hard. It's like when you know you truly love something, but the mere beliefs that everybody has instilled within you from birth hold you back. And you may even be the type who rebels often because of this thing. Create your own beliefs. That will require you to question what you have always been taught, don't be afraid to question it. You need let yourself see thing. At your lowest you can really see in black and white. Take a step back and observe. Read and learn.

12H ruler in 10H

Many of your mental anguishes come from you struggling with what kind of image you want to uphold between other people. You may struggle a lot with showing up between people or excessively thinking of what other people may think of you when you are at the low points in your life. You can often feel like other people look so deep within you, within the things you want to hide from everybody. When that happens, remember that what others think of you is absolutely none of your business. As long as you know that you are on the right track, you don't need anyone to tell you otherwise.

12H ruler in 11H

You are learning to trust in your dream and not hold yourself back from achievement. You know when you are at those low points in your life, there could be a deep seated fear of missing out on opportunities. You can start to second guess your own hopes, uncertain if you even deserve to have what you want or not. There could also be this sense of feeling like there is no hope left for you, like there is nothing anymore you want to have. When that happens, try to remain grateful, look at all the cool things you have achieved till now, appriciate yourself, open yourself up to something new.

12H ruler in 12H

When you hit rock bottom, it's like plunging into the deepest recesses of your mind, where you confront your fears and doubts about existence. It's a heavy burden, carrying the weight of your own struggles and the suffering of the world within you. At times, it feels suffocating, like you're lost in a maze of your own thoughts, trying to make sense of it all. But amidst the darkness, there is also potential for a lot of spiritual growth. Your journey through the depths of your psyche can lead to a greater understanding of yourself and the universe. Meditate often, and write your thoughts, talk to someone like-minded. Do not isolate yourself either.

______♡______

That's all! Thanks for reading!

[krys4h]

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ◞﹒୧ .

✧ ⁝ 𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 ◞ ྀི

— my thoughts & headcanons on how i think he would be as a lover (or not...) fluff, nsfw, hurt.

𓍯 a silent lover. the type to love in secret, hidden from sight. cold facade, worried heart for his loved ones. you feel his affection in the little things like when you feel down and he always prepares your favorite meal without a word, trying to create comfort and affection that he can't express with words. a confession would be too loud for him.

𓍯 he prefers to watch, observe and protect those he cares about behind their backs. the type to lie to you about his schedule - because it's physically impossible for him to verbalize his feelings - and go secretly confront a devil who was giving you a hard time.

𓍯 aki loves to make love to you during rainy days, forehead pressed against yours, his breath brushing your lips. it's intimate, despite the fact he run away from any emotional intimacy. he can't say i love you with his mouth, makima's shadow covering his heart and his words but he can convey his feelings in his kisses, his hands that circle around your clit, touching in spots nobody did.

𓍯 his eyes that soften only for yours will always follow you, everywhere you're going.

𓍯 he spend his night looking at you when you're sleeping, wondering why God gave him such a gift in his life but not enough time to cherish it.

𓍯 you always felt it even though it was silent. he seemed so detached from you, always careful that his eyes didn't linger on you for too long - attempt failed, they always found you -, you had to squint, see the unsaid, and understand the innuendos to perceive the love he had for you.

𓍯 it takes time. it takes time to go from a cold look when judging a stranger, to the first nods, the first half-smiles that precede the softened glances. it took him time to get used to having someone who cares for him like you do. maybe it was complicated to accept the fact that he was finally the first choice for someone, and not the forgotten youngest of his family like he always was. your warm air when you saw him coming from afar felt weird for him, almost inappropriate. when you seemed too happy to see him he couldn't help but frown at how your eyes always looked illuminated for him. weird. almost inappropriate.

𓍯 it takes time, but the slight pang in his heart he feels every time he feels your affection for him is slowly starting to disappear. he can't be openly expressive like you, but he's starting to accept it. it takes time. his love is silent when yours is so loud that it becomes overwhelming and he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

𓍯 it's understandable, everyone is dying around him. he's the only one who hasn't lost his humanity yet and mourns the deaths of those who defend the people of this city. it touches him. death scares him so much that he can't allow himself to truly get attached to someone, it would be like welcoming someone with big arms for a hug with arms full of thorns. to engulf you, to make you dive with him. no, he can't. he really can't.

𓍯 it doesn't matter how his breath hitches every time he feels when your silhouette towers over him, your hips undulating in the most exquisite way, so eager to please him. he doesn't even need to guide you with his hands on your hips, it's already too good. it doesn't matter the almost painful but sweet feeling he has in his stomach when the lights are out with the only sounds being the creaking bed and your soft breath. he feels so safe with you, you make him so wanted that he starts to think that life might be worth living outside of his desire for revenge.

𓍯 but it doesn't matter, he can't say "i love you", the poor man doesn't even manage to smile normally. there's always an awkward look.

𓍯 he was so caught up in the curse of his family's vengeance that he had closed himself off from any relationship that went beyond the professional sphere. but... it was hard not to succumb to you. he couldn't give you the bright future and romance you deserved, but he could give you the remnants of his heart he had left. working with you, doing missions and hunting devils together, and sometimes, when you were a little too drunk, kisses on the neck that would slip into panting. no commitment. that was what he could offer you. he thought it would protect him from the loss of not putting a word on your relationship, like a wall for pain. he lied to himself so much. he was already madly in love, and if he were to lose you right now, it would be the end of him.

𓍯 it was up to you to decode if the hands that brushed you at night sought only for pleasure or for your heart, because even if for a moment, you would lose control of your emotions and let your love for him express itself, an "i love you" that should have remained hidden, he would not answer it.

𓍯 aki loves you too, that's a fact. but he wouldn't let you see it. he wasn't going to make the mistake of investing too much in a relationship that was inevitably going to go badly, and make you hope. you deserved better, he thought. you were his heaven in the hell that was the daily life of a devil hunter. so dear, so precious to him.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[taffywabbit]

every time dilbert gets mentioned in a conversation/post i think about how hilarious it is that scott adams turned out to be such a deranged alt-right fuckwit, considering the fact that his comics indisputably radicalized me against capitalism as a kid and probably did so earlier than anything else

like there IS some pretty iffy stuff in dilbert for sure (particularly a lot of casual misogyny and xenophobia), and it definitely increased over time as the author got more edgy and self-important. i don't think i read anything from later than like 2003 and it was already starting to get pretty unreadable by then - LONG before he started openly being a turbo-racist podcaster weirdo. but the earlier stuff (especially before there were a lot of established recurring characters or running gags) was largely just a satirical cartoon focused on how corporations are evil and exploitative, and how you'd have to be completely detached from reality to truly enjoy working for them, and how trying to climb the ladder of success is a futile pursuit within a capitalist society where the upper class needs to keep pulling that ladder up behind them to keep the rest of us in our place and maintain their own status. it was basically vent art by a guy stuck working in mind-numbing desk jobs, who barely knew how to draw but just wanted to get his thoughts out and reach other people who were frustrated in the same ways he was. it's really weird but also fascinating to compare that to how it (and adams himself) ended up in the long run

i don't think it was particularly funny most of the time, and when it did have actual jokes, they were often pretty mean-spirited and/or cynical. i don't remember more than one or two specific bits from the comic that actually ever made me laugh, and i read a LOT of them as a kid (my grandpa had a massive collection of newspaper comic compilation books at his house that he'd let me look through and borrow stuff from - this is also how i discovered garfield and calvin & hobbes). but i DO remember having it instilled in me from an early age that there was nothing really exciting or praiseworthy about grinding your life away for a company that profits off your skilled labor and gives you pennies in return - which is especially noteworthy considering i was also raised by mormons, who are famously all about that "nobility in suffering" and "work your way to heaven" type bullshit. i'm genuinely unsure how this happened

anyways i think scott adams would probably piss his pants and explode if he ever took a break from peddling his psychic penis hypnosis and killer burrito podcasts long enough to seriously think about any of this stuff. (and i hope he does. it would be funnier than anything he's ever written.)

[slxtarchive]

colby x femreader smut? like maybe y/n’s first time with colby? not like first time virginity but like their first time doing it with each other?

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭 ✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. after days of thinking about taking the next step it seemed both you and colby were on the same page …

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. soft smut! if you’re more into that rough type of smut i have another one for you to check out!

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. thank you for this request! i’m a sucker for some emotional and meaningful imagines! i hope you like it

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 1400 +

you and colby were lying on your guys' bed watching your favorite show. both cuddled up your head on his chest.

you practically forced him to watch it and even though he won't admit it, he loves it.

in this particular show, there was a scene in which the main character was having her first time with a boy she liked.

they both looked so in love. at first, they were just easing into it, but then it got more passionate.

you were squeezing your thighs as you heard their moans and groans.

the scene was so beautiful and depicted so perfectly.

you had already had your first time; unfortunately with someone that wasn’t worth your time.

you’ve been wanting to take the next step with colby.

you guys have shared passionate kisses here and there. made out and done oral but never really connected that emotionally before.

the scene kept going and you felt colby shift a little.

you sneakily glance at him and see his bulge.

you looked back at the show not even paying attention to it anymore.

your breathing changed and so did his. you could see his hand reach out and get placed on your thigh.

his hand feeling like fire on your skin.

you wanted to start the conversation about it but you didn't know how to start it.

fuck it. you told yourself.

“y/n.” colby said at the same time you said his name.

“colby-”

you both laughed as you buried your head in his chest out of embarrassment.

he sighed and kissed the top of your head.

he waited a moment before he whispered. “you look so beautiful.”

the compliment brought butterflies to your stomach.

you looked up surveying his face. his eyes full of love and lust at the same time.

you couldn’t wait another second before connecting your lips with his.

immediately his mouth moved with yours. both his hands grabbing your face to take dominance over the kiss.

his tongue pushed past moving along yours leaving you out of breath.

he pushed closer to you climbing on top of you and settling between your legs.

you needed air so you pulled away breathing heavily.

“such pretty lips, baby. can never get sick of ‘em.” he kissed your cheek then trailed kisses down your neck sucking love bites on you.

you grabbed his face pulling it back to yours and connecting your lips once again.

you couldn’t get enough of them either.

colby reached for your underwear and tapped your waist.

you immediately lifted your hips.

“this okay?” he asked.

you nodded in reassurance. “yes, more than okay.” you breathe in deeply.

he takes off your underwear leaving your bottom bare.

his fingers connect with your sweet spot immediately rubbing in circles.

“mm, so good.” you whimpered. you were aching for his touch.

he dipped his finger in your arousal and slathered it on your clit so his finger wouldn't feel rough.

“feel good?” he was panting.

“mhm, yeah. feels amazing. more.” you tugged on his boxers. “need you. i want you.”

“you sure, baby?” he raises his brows. not because he doesn’t want to but because he wants to make sure it’s what you truly want.

“yes, i’m sure. been wanting you. so badly for so long.” you raked your hands through his hair and settled them at the nape of his neck tugging on it lightly.

“so needy baby. i love it.” he laughs breathlessly.

his fingers detach from your clit immediately having you miss his hand on your pussy.

he kicks off his boxers swiftly before reaching to the bedside table opening the drawer and retrieving a condom.

“i’m clean and on birth control if that reassures you. do what you’re comfortable with but if you’re comfortable with nothing i’m okay with it.” you lean up and peck his lips.

“i’m clean but are you sure baby. i know i keep asking but i want to make sure-” he rambles but you interrupt him.

“baby, i am so sure. never been so sure of anything. i love you. so much.” you try to dispel some of his thoughts.

“i love you more baby. you’re my everything.” he kisses you back with a chaste kiss. he put the condom back before stroking himself a little bit. “tell me if you want me to stop baby. in a second i will.”

you nodded ready to take him.

“i need words honey.” his head was buried in your neck pecking it with small kisses.

“mhm, i know. i will baby.” you replied.

as soon as he heard your response he couldn’t wait any longer and started pushing in.

your mouth opened trying to hold back the gasp.

you could feel him stretching you but it felt so good.

at one point it stung a little bit since it had been a while but you closed your mouth and your eyes trying to focus on your breathing.

you heard a deep groan come from his mouth. “so good.” he whispered, his head by your ear.

“fuck fuck fuck.” you whined. colby pulled out and then pushed back in deep touching the sweet spot inside you that had you arching your back.

he kept a steady slow pace hitting that spot over and over. your eyes rolled back because of how good the sensation felt.

“fuck, baby. taking me so well. been waiting for this.” colby said, barely able to finish his sentences.

you nodded in agreement not able to respond quick enough.

“feels so good, colby. faster, please. faster.” you begged scratching your nails across his back.

“oh fuck. yes.” he moaned hair falling in front of his eyes.

at this point, he was going so fast your legs were going numb.

your head fell to the side fully giving into the ecstasy you were experiencing. that tight ball in your stomach was inches away from bursting.

to make things better for you, colby took your right leg throwing it over your shoulder so that he could get deeper inside you. the new change in position had your hands reach up to the back of colby’s hair tugging on it.

he groaned and leaned down to whisper in your head. “do that again baby. i love it. please. so close.”

“i’m so close. oh god.” you whined, tugging on his hair one more time.

“fuck, i love you. so fucking much.” he told you connecting your lips as he continued at a relentless pace.

“i love you.” you said into the kiss.

as you got closer the kiss became sloppier until you faltered and got taken over by your orgasm. you moaned into his mouth. your back arching into him disconnecting your lips which caused him to connect his lips to your chest and neck.

“that’s right baby, fuck.” he groaned, following suit. his hips twitched as he came inside you.

he thrusted slowly rising out his own orgasm.

you were limp as he buried his head into your neck catching his breath.

after a few minutes, he lifted his head up.

“you look so beautiful all fucked out.” he complimented with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“mmm, i hope so.” you combed his hair back from his face. you sighed just playing with his hair as your heart rate came back down.

while you combed through his hair with your fingers he was peppering kisses on your neck.

"should get you cleaned up." he muttered pushing himself off you and calmly pulling out.

you winced at the newfound emptiness you felt.

"don't move," he said as he scurried off butt-ass naked to the restroom. he then came back with a wet warm towel and started to wipe along your sensitive area cleaning the mess he made.

"need to go pee too. then we can lay down and finish the episode," you said.

this time you were butt naked only walking to the restroom.

you did your business then went to get some new underwear and slipped it on along with a laced tank top.

when you came back you saw colby with a new pair of boxers sitting on his side of the bed.

you jumped into bed and quickly gave him a kiss on his cheek.

he quickly turned around and tackled you onto your back kissing you up.

"you're so beautiful, baby. how am i so lucky?" he asked.

you give him a chaste kiss on the lips giggling. "oh please. shut up."

© slxtarchive

[farshootergotme]

A while ago I was talking to my friend about Dick's adoption and as we talked they said, and I quote, "Actually I'm convinced that deepened his insecurities and his self worth more hence that boosted his needs of showing self worthiness in order to get Bruces approval overall; and NOW BECAUSE Bruce adopted him only when he's like fully developed into his own character and showed enough self worth, that became his new mindset typa thing" and that changed my whole perception of it.

Because, yes, it was already bad enough that it took so long for Dick to be adopted. That messed with his insecurities a little bit. But I never considered how adopting him only once he seemed to be truly succeeding could be interpreted (subconsciously) as "you've proven your worth and this is your reward" as if he had to earn his (official) place as his son.

Why not before even though he'd been Nightwing for years by that point? Going from this perspective, it would be because Nightwing to Dick means detaching himself from the Batman. It means starting his own journey and thus leaving Bruce behind, which means he needs to prove now that he is good enough to be on his own; that this independence isn't just a whim.

And then Jason happens and the relationship is just not very good between them during that time, so it's not wonder he hadn't adopted him yet even though he did adopt Jason. And then Jason dies and it's even worse so definitely that wouldn't be the right time for the adoption. Dick still hadn't proved to Bruce he was good enough to be adopted because if he had he would've adopted him soon after the conversation they had about it.

And a couple of years go by and Bruce finally adopts him and their relationship isn't falling apart and maybe he's good enough for it, and he's happy. But then, one would start to wonder, 'what changed? Why did I have to wait for so long to get this? What had I been doing wrong before?' Bruce knew he wanted to be adopted, so what's that triggered this seemingly sudden decision?

[eetherealgoddesss]

ꨄOur Perfect Alphaꨄ

Oneshot - Dark Content - Yandere - Omegaverse

❦ They were the only ones who could see through your tough act.❦

Omega Males x Alpha Female Reader

❣︎All sub-genders can be any gender. Male omegas do not have vaginas and cannot get pregnant. Not the best I’ve written but I hope you enjoy it anyway.❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY NON FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR UNDER EETHEREALGODDESSS AND ON WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.

✩Characters are 18+ as always.

✩Everything/everyone are mine

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Our Perfect Alpha

You are tired.

Exhausted even…

You have always been someone to take care of everything that came your way. No matter the extremities or the harsh situations you have been forced to live through, you have handled every single thing that has happened in your life. It wasn’t easy growing up as the people pleaser. It wasn’t easy growing up with a heart of gold and yet the mineral rusting as you were faced with the reality that you have been unloved from the start.

It wasn’t easy, growing up in a home where you were born from a family line of traumatized and unhealed individuals who had know idea how to truly love you. All your life you have craved love, attention, recognition. You felt that you loved too hard and seemed to be surrounded by the world of humans who lack empathy. You took on the burden of everyone and their pain.

The betrayals, arguments, and pity sessions had you on your knees at times, spiraling and rocking against the wall as you contemplated ending your life. As an alpha, especially growing up with other alpha females, you were always told to suck it up and be independent. Never rely on anyone else and stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s seen as weak to show vulnerability.

You’ve always been more emotional than those around you and it caused a lot of misunderstandings and miscommunications. You could never feel truly connected with your own sub-gender because your wants and societal needs did not intertwine. Sometimes you wish you could be more feminine. You wished you would've been born an omega instead. You also wished that you liked being an alpha or resonated in the same way other alphas do with themselves.

You were too embarrassed to admit that you truly wanted to be taken care of, spoiled even. You wanted someone to save you, as pathetic as it is. Regardless of how you feel, you never showed it. After you matured you repressed your true feelings and took on the role as an alpha female. As much as you felt disconnected, it still worked better than the femininity gurus you found on social media that were only meant for omega women.

You are deep within your teachings and are used to acting in your masculine energy. It’s easier that way, regardless of the disconnection. It’s too late for you to change. The sub-gender you were born with proves that your calling is to be an alpha, so you had no choice but to accept it. That didn’t mean you didn’t struggle in relationships.

You were too masculine for the alpha males and the omega males had you feeling way to masculine. Betas were too emotionally detached. Nobody ever doted on you. You craved to be a bimbo or even just a feminine woman and experience the otherside. Regardless of who you were with, nobody seemed to care enough. Nobody loved hard enough. Nobody saw you as someone to protect. Not even your family.

You gave up. You didn’t deserve it. Who’d want someone like you anyway? You’re already too damaged. You’ve been through too much. You’re too strong. You’re not even strong enough. Your self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by a shadow casting over you.

You freeze in your seat on the ground with your back against the tree, eyes making contact with lustrous sky blue irises. You immediately know that you are in the presence of an omega by the floral aroma of lavender with a fusion of vanilla that would’ve had another alpha who lacked self control on their knees within a second. The soft features of the porcelain skin blended well with the sharp lining of the jaw. His pink bangs fall messily over his face while the rest of his locks fall gracefully past his shoulders.

He stands in front of you, shoes planted on the grass of the empty park. The red hue on his cheeks seem to complete his physical attributes, fitting him perfectly. His glossy eyes gaze at you with an unreadable expression. Your head turns to the figure standing next to the stranger. The savor of citrus and jasmine reaches your nose less subtly than the other omega’s scent. His skin is slightly tanner and remains as clear as the pink haired man. Half of his blonde hair is pulled back, the rest of the healthy strands falling just above his shoulder. What gets you is the intensity of his dark eyes, almost as if there are no pupils present. He also wears an unreadable expression before his lips form into a smile.

“Hey there.” Your hand tightens around your phone, his voice deeper than expected for an omega, even as a male. Your stomach drops as you look at your surroundings. It can be quite a dangerous circumstance to find yourself in the presence of two clearly mated omegas.

Whether alpha, omega, or beta, those who are mated become much more territorial. Murder is even excused at the cost of your mate. There doesn’t even have to be proof, if they feel like you’re a threat to their relationship you can be legally mauled. Mating is a sacred expression where the bite(s) ties you together as each individuals’ life source. You are bound to each other forever.

“Hey.” You reply, your arms lying between the knees to your chest and your stomach. You watch as they glance at each other before gazing back at you.

“You’re our new alpha.” Your eyebrows raise along with your eyelids. You were definitely not down to have a relationship. It doesn’t matter how beautiful they are nor how good they smell. You barely know them, but little did you know, they definitely know everything about you.

They know you down to your most secretive insecurities. They’ve watched you for quite a while now. You caught their eye far too long ago. Somehow you hadn’t ever noticed them, but they lingered. They were always quiet in the background.

Quiet through the loud arguments between you and your family members. Quiet throughout the arguments between you and the partners who disappeared without a trace, unknown to you. Quiet throughout the moments you were lying in the fetal position on your bed, tears falling while the curtains were slightly open.

They were oh so very fucking quiet and even patient throughout your sexual endeavors. All because when they first laid eyes on you, a couple of years ago when you had saved the roofied the pink haired omega from sluggishly being pulled along by a creepy alpha pervert who you exposed and found a way to use the omega’s phone to take him home to his blonde partner, that was it for you.

You were theirs from the start. Because you had rushed off so fast, they weren’t able to get any information about you. They searched social media, the local area, and even the outskirts of the city. They just couldn’t figure out where you were. Not until one fateful night where they caught you sitting in your car with a blunt in one hand and the phone in the other, seeming to have just finished your yelling session and hanging up the phone before taking a long hit of the flower. They took a picture of your tags from your car and it all started from there.

They found out every single thing about you after two years of studying you. Their fascination had no limits, blood wringing from their hands from everyone they felt they had to kill for putting their dirty fucking hands all over their mate’s body. They craved you.

Oh honey, your wants and needs, it was ridiculous how much they wanted to fulfill your aches and pain. To be the ones to take care of you, nurture you, protect their little alpha. To bite into your neck gland and finalize your tie with them for life. They can see the holographic red ribbon wrapped around your bodies now. They know that you’ve never experienced real and raw passion from your pathetic relationships and they will gladly take the honor of giving you a life you never thought you deserved. You didn’t have a choice anymore. They’re done waiting.

“I’m sorry but I’m not anyone’s alpha.” You eyed them with confusion as the blonde man crouched down beside you and wrapped his fingers around your hand.

“Listen, sweetheart. Name’s Archer.” He brings the back of your hand to his nose before scenting you, causing your body to tense. “I’m not a very patient guy so let’s get this outta the way. You’re our new mate.”

While you were distracted, you failed to notice the pink haired male position himself on his knees and crawl towards you, ignoring your peripheral vision of his figure as you focused on the sentence that just came out of Archer’s mouth.

“Wait a minute, I literally have a say in this. You can’t just force me to be your mate. I don’t even kn-!” You felt warm air tickle your ear when you heard the other omega speak in a sultry tone.

“We’re starving. Be a doll and tilt your head for me.” His hand slivers to your chin before snatching your face in the opposite direction, exposing your neck in the process.

“H-hold on!” The grip on your hand tightens painfully before the sharp teeth enter your gland. Your jaw hangs open in a silent scream as your free hand hangs onto the shoulder of Elias, the mischievous male moving his hand to grip the upper part of your neck as he sucks at your life source.

“No fair, Elias. I wanted her neck first.” Archer whined before crawling to the opposite side and releasing your hand. His hand cups your cheek before pushing your face up to force access to the other side of your neck.

You release a pained groan as your eyes shut tightly, a new pair of sharp fangs entering your neck as both parties suck on your energy. You peek at the holographic red ribbon surrounding all of you as it circled and tied against your bodies before disappearing, the bond binding you for life against your will. At some point both men release your neck only to continue feeding from your body as they kiss up your bruised skin, blood meeting their lips as they gain energy from you. Your body weakens against the tree as your eyes almost roll into the back of your head.

“Goddamnit, Alpha. You’re so delicious.” Archer says before his tongue glides up your bloody neck. “M’ gonna take good care of you.” He breathes out desperately between kisses.

Elias pulls back to make eye contact with you, sneering before using his hand to grip your thigh harshly, your body tensing with pain as you cringed. You could feel the disgust and rage radiating from his energy as his piercing eyes bore into you.

“I’m gonna make you regret making us wait so long. You let multiple men touch you. Fucking disgraceful.” He scolds you. Your eyes widen as you try to remove his hand, all the while pushing the blonde man back as well.

“Wh-what the hell are you talking about?” You had no clue what was even happening. You don’t even know who these omeg-… wait.

“Wait, do… do I know you?” You ask them while Archer rubs his arm against his mouth and Elias crosses his arms. Your eyebrows furrow when both men seem to pout and look away.

“Of course you don’t remember us.” Elias hissed.

“Your memory is shit. This is why we have to take care of you.” Archer rolled his eyes. “How have you survived this long without us? You’re hopeless, really.”

“Hold the fuck up! What the hell do you mean by that? Wh-!”

“I’m tired of all this talking. It’s getting late and we should really get you to bed, Alpha.” Elias said as he picked himself up from the ground. Archer follows and looks down at your sitting figure.

Your hands meet the bites on your neck that ache to touch. You eye them, still in disbelief of your current situation. You didn’t really know how to feel. Violated? Confused? There were a lot of emotions running through you at once and you couldn’t really pinpoint one specific feeling.

“She’s not getting up.” Elias states to his omega partner.

“Huh.” Archer responds before placing his hands on his hips. A smile grows on his face, to your dismay.

“Well, if you won’t come willingly, we’ll just take you.”

Before you can respond, a harsh impact causes darkness to engulf your vision.

[bunji-enthusiast]

I'm so sorry if I filled up your request box! I'll try and slow down the requests 💀

But, think about this, Catnap and Dogday both being clingy towards Smiling Critter! Reader 👀✨ perhaps they're both acting this way due to the Reader spending less time with them, part of it due to the Playcare getting busier and busier with new orphans coming in. The other Critters also felt a left out but not as much as Catnap and Dogday. The reader indulged them in their clinginess but oh my Prototype, the reader suddenly has to get transferred to the game station??

For what reason is up to you along with the rest of the idea, I wanna see what you can cooked up 👀✨

Good luckkk 👀✨👍

Alternative For Two

Note || I love a challenge! I hope this lived up to your expectations 🤞

WC || 1,279

Sypnosis || two clingy little boys desperately trying to get your attention once more, but what happens once they learn of your sudden transfer?

More often than not, you were quite distant. Indifferent to hanging around the other Smiling Critters, on a daily basis there always seemed to be more and more orphans coming in and out of Playcare. So you were busy tending to them as much as possible. 

Then there was DogDay and CatNap, they were also playcare attendants but they had a particular clinginess to hanging around you–you always indulged in affections for them. They were absolutely fluffy, and you didn’t mind putting aside some time for them.

Yet as of late, you were busier and busier with each passing moment. Well, not always could your time be occupied, by mandatory state regulation you had to have breaks from time to time. 

CatNap and DogDay were a little worried, being a little more clingy as time passed. You had wondered before why they were behaving this way, you just had been busy is all. There are many orphans to take care of and tend to.

“This is interestin’.” You murmur, seeing official paper of transfer right in front of your very eyes. You truly didn’t expect to see something like this today, but your only biggest problem is how you would tell your friends you are being transferred. No less the reason being it is for it. 

Especially with having two particularly clingy friends of yours at the hip, always vying for your attention for some odd reason.

Perhaps, you thought, that you could distance yourself for a while. Long enough for every single one of your friends to start getting detached from you, you weren’t going to be able to see them as often as you would anymore.

Even more-so, management had only just now decided to transfer you to game station of all places? 

“Crazy, if you ask me.” Another voice broke you out of your thoughts, “I thought Mommy handled the station?” KickinChicken, one of your many friends. He was more keen on keeping secrets more than anything, inquiring about the girgaum of information management that had been passing lately. 

You nodded, setting the paper at your side. “You're right, I suppose they needed more hands? There have been more and more orphans coming into both the game station and Playcare as of late.” You cross your arms, tapping your foot as you think about it more clearly. 

KickinChicken shrugs, not even a hint of amusement shining through his expression. “I dunno, but I really wished you could stay here with us.” 

You too, wished for the same condition. “Oh but, I feel bad for DogDay and CatNap too.” You mutter, your voice clearly not being masked as your strained emotions shined through. KickinChicken laid a hand on your shoulder, rarely had he been the one to reassure someone, but this was right now.

“When’s all said and done, they’re your friends.” Your yellow-feathered companion nodded without a shadow of doubt betraying his unwavering confidence, “I’m sure they’ll understand.” 

KickinChicken was right, they’re your friends you had reminded yourself–with an affirmed nod. “I guess you’d be right, I shouldn’t be that doubtful of them.” You spoke slowly, letting out a fluctuating groan once more. 

“Well,” He began after the time had passed, very awkwardly. “You’ve still got time and things to do here, right? Cherish it, y’know.” KickinChicken removed his feathered hand from your shoulder, taking a step back from you. 

“Anyway, I gotta go take care of some kids.” He waved, a silence filled the air before he finally decided to elaborate, “A group got assigned to me.” To which in turn you nodded, he prompted a step of hesitance–then left you alone with your thoughts. 

You sighed once KickinChicken left, your shoulders slumping as you were practically left in a defeated state.

Ah, why did the gift of existing have to be so complicated?

All the children in the room with you were right as rain, everything was going smoothly. You just didn’t expect such a sudden surprise from behind when a mysterious figure hugged you from behind, you yelped and turned around to see who it was. 

“CatNap!” You utter without missing a semblance of a beat, looking up to see his beady white eyes interlocking with yours. 

“Very… distant.” CatNap mumbled, audible enough for you to hear, no one else is close enough to hear your conversation. You raised a brow at what he had meant, blinking at him in confusion for a few moments to discern the meaning behind his words. He relaxed his hold on you, then sat down.

Finally, the cogs in your head had adjusted correctly, “OH! I’m just… pretty busy.” You nodded, “You know how it is with all the new orphans we’ve been taking in lately.” CatNap’s head lolled about as if he was heeding your words, considering them. 

“No kidding!” Another interjected, your head turned to figure the source of the new voice, it was DogDay! How surprising it is they are both with you now and again. “But I’m glad we can help them, they aren’t alone as we aren’t either Angel.”

DogDay nodded, proud of his statement. CatNap stepped sideways a little bit to make room for the sunny dog who was now sitting down next to CatNap. 

“I suppose this is an intervention or something?” You inquired, your brow raised with a quirk as you set down the box of toys that you had held steady in your hands. DogDay raised his hands, slightly flailing about as if a blush of embarrassment bloomed across his brightly orange-yellow face. “Not at all! We just like spending time with you.” DogDay replied, CatNap nodding along at the dog’s words as he spoke.

Your tense expression eased up, still not letting up on the fact you felt a ball of anxiety forming in your gut, about ready to cause you to burst into tears. About any emotion really. A sort of darkness overshadows your own heart in this very moment, allowing you to stay still and remain calm. Whatever your feeling right now was most likely untrue or unnecessary.

“Well alright, mind helping me with these then?” You heaved a heavy breath as you picked up the box of toys, gesturing to the other ones you had at your feet. 

DogDay and CatNap looked to where you had pointed, then nodded, already making movements to take one each and follow you behind. “So, I was wondering… maybe you want to hang out with the rest of us later?” DogDay wanted to ask what was up with you, but he didn’t want to probe you for answers, thinking it to be rude. Merely only asking a silly question.

“After this? Sure!” You grin, beaming with excitement at the prospect.

They really wished you would have stuck to your promise, you weren’t one to make and break promises just like that. DogDay was happy to hang with you again after some time now, as was CatNap (in spite of being a very tired cat). 

“We just now know of this?” DogDay’s voice trembled, holding the official paper that would notify you of transfer.

It had seemed you were whisked away to be transferred earlier to the game station then expected. Only KickinChicken knew of this, which was the only way to tell CatNap and DogDay about your predicament.

KickinChicken frowned, shrugging as his foot kicked away a stray plastic pebble. CatNap was remaining quiet, even more eerily than usual–that wasn’t normal. “M’ sorry, I assumed [First Name] would’ve told you beforehand?”

CatNap shook his head, DogDay’s fabricated lips pursed, his expression contorting to that of a defeated state.

You were really gone.

[aldisobey]

Food for thought. Maybe off topic, but I was military. You’re known by title and last name so often in an environment like that, and I feel that might be similar in a collegiate environment? I find Emmrich’s insistence on being called by his first name when joining the Veilguard so endearing.

Like yes, he’s Professor Volkarin there at work, at his job. But here comes Rook and the Veilguard and from the start he wants to engage as equals. Not be some outside aide or expert they’re calling on from the Mourn Watch. He’s a part of this, and desperate for connections outside what he’s known as. He’s trapped by the dressings of esteemed professor in his home. Maybe that’s a reason he never found that true love.

Think of the prestige of his position, the rarity of corpse whispering, his distaste for nobles. It’s likely some Nevarrans have tried to use him and his desire for intimacy and romance to advance their own interests. No wonder he’s deep in the Shrouded Halls doing work alone. My exceedingly rich uncle would bemoan that he never knew if someone was really his friend, if they really liked him, or if they just wanted his resources and wealth and material he had to offer. He was ruined by desperate loneliness.

Apply that to everything Emmrich has to offer Nevarrans and the Mourn Watch, he’s a necromancer on the path to something as rare as lichdom. Are his peers real friends? Can they be real love? Has he had any real connection or was he the gifted orphaned that was taken advantage of young and detached as the reality of his situation settled?

Maybe I need to go over the dialogue more. But you’ll note Hezenkoss even calls him Volkarin (and you’ll note he calls her Johanna, he’s reaching out), and that makes sense, my old military friends still default to my last name. It’s familiar and dropping the title was comfy enough. But when you’re only known by that title and last name? When you never hear your name like it’s love?

Sure he joined the Veilguard because of what he has to offer, but on this team everyone is bringing unique and vital skills to the table, he’s not alone. And he wants to be just Emmrich. What a breath of fresh air it must’ve been to be truly seen and eventually known. No wonder he can fall so hard so fast for Rook. He finally gets to be Emmrich. Not the Professor.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.13 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: some angst, violence, mutual pining, some kissing;)

See masterlist

Her whole life, she never had anyone. Yes, she had her share of relationships, longest of them being with Azriel, she has had people whom she called friends, family even, she has had acquaintance's, those whom she trained and those whom she met.

But none had ever been loyal enough. Enough to have her back, enough to love her, enough to protect and support her. Enough to promise something to her. Azriel, no matter how long they had known one another, had never told her the three words she was desperate to hear, 'I love you'. He never cared enough about her feelings, her thoughts and words. He never soothed her nightmares.

And now, looking back on it with a clear mind, y/n could see what a blind fool she has been. He never loved her to begin with.

But, last night, Fenrys had not only opened up to her, shown her his unmasked side, but also promised so fiercely to protect her, to have her back. She didn't expect him to be so vulnerable with her. She sensed how he still held back about telling more but that was fine. Y/n was more than grateful with all that he shared with her. And now, knowing his backstory, or atleast some of it, she could only curse on those who ever hurt him. She could only wish for Maeve to come back from the dead so that y/n could brutally kill her with her own bare hands.

Y/n also realized how wrong she was when she judged him. He was not a self-centered, arrogant prick but an honorable, brave, loyal, loving and broken male who only wishes to finally find a purpose in life. Just like her.

Last night, after Fenrys made her a promise that shook her whole world, she managed to only stare at him with wide eyes and mouth which made him smile softly and detach from her, the feeling leaving her cold and for some reason, disappointed. He then turned his back on her and entered his room, shutting the door and leaving her in the middle of the hallway, frozen and absolutely in shock.

She slept like a newborn faeling for the rest of the night. No nightmares, no troubles sleeping, just pure bliss. And now, as she made her way to the training area even an hour earlier than she usually would, y/n felt very refreshed and energize-

"Lu! This is a surprise, since when have you been training?"

Lucien, half naked with his abs and muscles on display, dropped the weights that he was lifting and looked towards y/n.

The redhead pretended to be hurt as he put his hand over his heart, gasping, "Y/n, please, you're hurting my feelings. How exactly do you think that I keep this delectable physique?"

She laughed as she went towards the pitcher full of water.

"I don't know, I rarely ever saw you train in Velaris."

Lucien pointed a finger at her, "Key word, 'in Velaris'. Training with Cassian or Azriel never was the best thing, they just keep judging you, looking at you like you are lower than them."

She drank her water and put the cup down before shaking her head, "I am sorry Lu, it seems like they will never learn."

He just shrugged with a small smile, "Don't be, the only one with whom I truly ever connected there was and still is, you."

She genuinely smiled at that before heading to warm up. She heard his voice again as Lucien said while once again getting to work on his weightlifting, "So, what is going on between you and....what was his name- Fenrys. Yes."

She furrowed her brows and once again looked back at her friend, "What do you mean?"

Did he hear them last night? Impossible, they are in different parts of the palace.

"Well, I don't know, you seem to have some form of a connection. Rowan sees the tension too- in fact, everyone does."

"Nonsense Lu, there is nothing-"

"Do you love him?"

That question made her pause. Did she love Fenrys? Well, she certainly felt an attraction towards him. She felt care and adoration towards him but did she love him? No. No, she did not. She could never love anyone again. Not after what Azriel did. What happened last night was just a one time thing. He probably already forgot of what happened, probably moved on.

She sighed, "No. I do not."

"But you do care for him."

She looked up at her friend, who now was standing in front of her, his arms crossed, "Yes. I care.....as a friend."

"And when we go back, will you forget him as just a friend, a moment in your life, and move on?"

"I won't of course, I mean....he made an impact- this whole thing was unusual and made an impact and....and even if I wont ever see him again I will remember him as a....a good, great even, friend- why are you even questioning me like this is some kind of a trial?"

Lucien smirked and opened his mouth to say something when they heard a wyverns roar. They both turned around to see two figures in the distance, Manon and Petrah, exiting the palace and going towards their beasts.

From the urgency in their stride, it was clear that something was off. Y/n quickly made her way towards them as Lucien grabbed his shirt together with a sword and followed right behind her.

When they reached them the two seemed o be in some kind of a heated discussion as Manon just shook her head, ".....No, just trust me, Petrah. I am going and you either follow me or stay behind but do not tell me not to go."

Petrah just rubbed her temples while sighing, "And what if that place holds nothing? What if your guess proves to be fruitless?"

"Then-"

"What's going on? Where are you going?"

The witches turned their heads to look at her and the prince, Manon just sighed while Petrah tried to keep her expression cool but her eyes betrayed her as they slightly widened while taking in the half naked, sweaty male beside her. She was truly eye-fucking Lucien. And when y/n gave a side eye to him, she saw how Lucien's gaze was also taking in the witch from head to toe. Manon and y/n's eyes collided and they both tried to calm their growing need for laughter.

Manon was the one to quickly recover, clearing her throat, causing the two to just look away immediately, a small, tiny blush overtaking Petrah's cheeks as she tried saying in her most stable voice, "Uh...yeah um- me and Manon are going after the surviving valg."

That caused both her and Lucien's mood to sour as he quickly asked, his voice heavy with concern and frustration, "And you were planning to go alone?! Just the two of you?! Do you even know where you're going?"

Manon scoffed and Petrah's brows furrowed in anger as she crossed her arms, "You think too little of us, prince. Just wait till you see us in action. We are no weaklings."

Manon interfered, "I have a guess about where they might be so I decided to go there. I was going to go all alone, but Petrah found me midway and is now stuck to me like a leech, as you can see."

Petrah glared at her queen, "I'm your second in command, it's my job to have your back."

Before y/n could reply, Lucien said, in a determined voice, "I am coming with you." as he went towards Luna while putting his shirt on, not giving any room for arguments. Petrah looked after him and sighed in frustration before marching over to reach him.

Manon looked at y/n, one eyebrow raised, waiting to hear her decision.

She smirked at the queen, "Well, can't let my kin and my friend go on a dangerous mission without me."

Manon chuckled as she turned and began walking towards Abraxos, "You are a fighter, witchling."

Once they were all sat on their respective wyverns, Lucien sitting behind Petrah on Luna and Manon on Abraxos, the queen flew up first, followed by Petrah as y/n stretched her wings one last time before leaping into the sky.

Y/n soared through the morning sky, her wings catching the first rays of sunlight as they spread wide and strong. The world below was bathed in the soft hues of dawn, casting long shadows across the landscape. Manon and the others flew ahead, their wyverns cutting through the crisp morning air with purpose.

The morning air was alive with the sounds of nature awakening—the distant call of birds, the rustle of leaves stirred by the wind, and the occasional distant roar of a wild creature. Y/n could feel the pulse of anticipation, a quiet understanding that they were on the cusp of something significant.

Beside her, Abraxos glided effortlessly, his scales gleaming in the early light. Y/n glanced at Manon and Petrah ahead, their expressions resolute as they navigated towards the mountainous terrain that loomed in the distance. Lucien rode behind Petrah, his posture determined yet cautious, his eyes sharp with vigilance.

Manon's voice broke the tranquility, firm and commanding as she directed their course towards a narrow pass between two towering peaks. Y/n followed, her senses alert, muscles tensed in readiness. They flew closer, the mountains rising like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets hidden within their depths.

As they approached the pass, a sense of solemnity settled over them. Y/n exchanged a glance with Manon, their unspoken communication reflecting a shared resolve. 

Lucien's voice cut through the air, steady and reassuring, "Stay alert, everyone. We don't know what we might find beyond these mountains."

Petrah nodded firmly, her grip tightening on Luna's reins. The morning sunlight cast long shadows ahead, obscuring what lay beyond the threshold of the pass. Together, they flew into the pass, leaving behind the morning light and stepping into the shadowy depths of the mountains. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what fate had in store for them beyond the horizon.

As they ventured deeper into the narrow pass, the air grew cooler and the light dimmer, swallowed by the looming cliffs that surrounded them. Y/n could feel the ancient weight of the mountains pressing in, their jagged peaks reaching towards the sky like the claws of sleeping giants.

Manon led the way with a steady grace, her eyes scanning the rocky terrain for any signs of movement or disturbance. Abraxos' wings beat rhythmically against the silence, a reassuring sound amidst the eerie stillness of the mountain pass.

Without a word, Manon landed and dismounted Abraxos, her movements fluid and silent. Y/n and the others followed suit. The air hummed with tension as they crept forward, every sense alert to the danger that lurked in the shadows.

Before she could blink, Petrah had her claws and teeth out, much to Lucien's absolute shock, and Manon had her sword in her hand, positioned in front of her and ready to strike as she went ahead and slowly lead the way. Y/n mirrored Petrah's actions, letting her nails and teeth out as Lucien also swiped his sword out.

Manon motioned for them to spread out, her eyes gleaming with a fierce determination. With a swift gesture, she indicated a narrow passage leading deeper into the mountain. Y/n nodded as she followed Manon's lead. They moved silently, shadows melding with shadows as they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels.

The air grew colder, carrying the scent of damp earth and something darker—an acrid tang that spoke of ancient magic and lingering menace. Y/n could feel the weight of history in the stones beneath her feet, a silent witness to the battles fought and the secrets buried within the mountain's heart.

Ahead, the tunnel widened into a cavern—a vast, echoing space illuminated by flickering torchlight. Manon's hand tightened on Y/n's shoulder, a silent warning to stay alert. Petrah and Lucien flanked them, their presence a steady reassurance in the face of looming danger. Y/n swallowed hard, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she prepared for whatever lay ahead.

But when they ventured even further into the vast cavern, y/n's eyes widened with shock. The whole place was covered in unique drawings and writings, most probably an old language she had no idea about. Hanging from the rocky ceiling was a huge upside down, marble statue of a woman-

Manon gasped, "Mala the Firebringer,"

Y/n had no idea on who that woman was and from the slight confusion evident on Lucien's face, he didn't know either. But the two other witches gave a wide eyed look at one another before looking back at the tapestry.

The statue of Mala was a haunting sight to behold. Carved from smooth marble, her features were regal and serene, yet an aura of sorrow seemed to emanate from the stone. Black vines and roses wound around her suspended form, twisting and coiling in a macabre embrace. One black rose emerged from her mouth, its petals stark against the pale marble.

But, before they could explore even further, a voice echoed through the cavern—a low, mocking laugh that sent a chill down Y/n's spine. "So, you've come to play, little witches and prince," it taunted, the words dripping with malice.

Laughter echoed back and then, the shadow shifted, a weird creature coming into view. Weird because while the face of this being was that of a young, handsome man, the body was old, wrinkly and all in all, ancient. From the corner of her eye, y/n saw Lucien shift slightly, coming to stand in front of Petrah.

The Valg-whatever smiled an ugly smile, displaying his rotting fangs as he spoke once more, his voice going from young and charming to old and ugly in a second, "What a surprise has it been, Manon Blackbeak. How is your kingdom?"

Manon simply stared at him, not gracing him with an answer, her expression cold and calculating.

The valg chuckled "And you, Petrah Blueblood, aren't you jealous that a Blackbeak heir sits the throne of Witches?"

When Petrah didn't reply either, his gaze shifted to Lucien, "Oh, how could I forget the fire prince? The one that the book deemed fit enough to send between worlds....our worlds. We shall come for Prythian too."

Lucien's expression hardened but he was too busy glancing around, trying to detect if there was anyone else, to even reply to the ancient hag.

Finally, his chilling gaze landed on her, his smile growing even larger as he said, "Ah, y/n. Y/n y/l/n. I always had a suspicion that Elara would have a descendant of hers roaming around somewhere, unaware of her own powers. How hilarious that this whole time, you were in Prythian, a part of that Death Incarnate's court, unaware of who you truly are."

Y/n's breath hitched, "Have- have you been watching me? This whole time?"

The Valg's smile vanished as he ignored her and looked at Manon and Petrah, and said in the most horrific, ancient voice that carried an echo of millennia "Traitors! Traitors!"

Manon's iron teeth came to view as she spoke, "How many of you are here?"

The Valg started to slowly come towards them, "Oh, they do not know of any of you being here. I shall kill you myself and take the glory for myself once I bring them your dead bodies. What a feast it shall be!"

And then, he jumped, right towards her but y/n managed to quickly dodge away from his path, ripping some of his skin off with her iron claws in the process. He was too quick. Whatever these Valg's posessed, it gave them unimaginable powers. Speed is just one of them.

Petrah sprang into action, her iron claws and teeth glinting menacingly in the dim light of the cavern. She moved with a feral grace, ready to confront the Valg with all her strength. Manon and Lucien swiftly joined her, drawing their swords with a determined resolve.

The Valg hissed as it faced the group. Its twisted form was adorned with dark symbols and runes that pulsed ominously with power. The cavern seemed to tremble with its presence, shadows swirling around it like tendrils of malevolent energy.

The Valg let out a guttural growl. It lunged at Petrah with startling speed, claws extended to rend and tear. Petrah met its attack head-on, her iron claws clashing against the Valg's twisted talons.

It retaliated with a burst of dark energy, sending shards of stone and earth hurtling towards the group. Lucien deflected them with his sword, his movements precise and calculated.

Manon danced around the Valg, her sword a blur of lethal strikes. She aimed for its joints, seeking to disable its agility. The Valg countered with a blast of searing energy, forcing Manon to leap back with a curse.

When she saw an opening, y/n lunged. She aimed for the Valg's back, trying to claw its heart out like she did with the other beast in the forest. But the creature moved too quickly, appearing right in front of her, mouth wide open as it battled against her, claws clashing as it tried to bite her throat.

Sensing an opportunity, Lucien lunged forward with a decisive strike, his sword slicing through the air with deadly intent.

With a final, resounding blow, Lucien's sword pierced the Valg's heart. Dark blood spilled from the wound, mingling with the shadows that surrounded them. The creature let out a haunting cry, its form dissolving into wisps of dark smoke that dissipated into the cavern air.

Silence descended upon the cavern, broken only by the ragged breaths of the group. They stood together, chests heaving with exertion and adrenaline still coursing through their veins. Y/n tilted her head back while closing her eyes, relief flooding her as she looked at her companions.

They all seemed fine. As fine as someone who fought against a demon beast could be atleast. But it wasn't until Petrah looked up at everyone with wide eyes, suddenly falling to her knees while clutching her stomach, blue blood visibly beginning to cover her hands.

No.....no, Petrah could not die like this. She could not.

Before y/n could even process it, Lucien ran towards the witch, screaming, "Petrah!" Manon, wide eyed, shouted, "Quick! Get her on Luna! We have to leave, now!"

Lucien easily got ahold of her, gently lifting her up in a bridal style as he ran after Manon, y/n following suit, covering their backs.

"Just press on the wound Petrah! We will get you healed soon, please just hold on a little more."

Lucien'c voice was frantic, unrecognizable as they all quickly made their ways to the wyverns, Manon looked at the prince, "Do you know how to ride a wyvern?"

"I-"

"Yes or no, we are loosing time!"

"Yes! I will! I will manage just- just help me get her on Luna!"

Once Petrah, barely conscious, was secured, Lucien sat right behind her, gripping her waist gently as he took ahold of the wyvern's reigns with his other hand and immediately leapt off the ground, followed by Manon and y/n.

They flew as fast as they could, Lucien leading the way and shouting at Luna to fly faster. Y/n could only hope that they would make it in time to the palace because even though she hadn't known Petrah for very long, she had grown to warm up towards the witch. Not to mention how they were of the same kin which made y/n feel protective over her.

Once they reached the palace, y/n landed first followed by the two wyverns. She quickly ran towards Lucien to help as Manon went inside to call for a healer immediately. The distress written all over his face made y/n feel so worried for her dear friend. She knew how he felt. After all, that is exactly how she was when Fenrys got injured. Why? she had no idea.

They entered the palace, Petrah barely holding on, Lucien going livid while carrying her in his arms, Y/n by his side, her hand on Petrah's stomach, covered in blue blood. Manon came rushing back with not just some of the healers but also Aelin, Rowan, Aedion and Fenrys.

There was chaos all around her and when the healers moved to take Petrah and put her on a stretcher, Lucien growled. He growled at the healers as if they were an enemy, "She goes in my arms."

The healers nodded and quickly lead the way, followed by the others and y/n was also about to follow when someone grabbed her arm and turned her around, making her loose her balance and almost crush with a hard chest. The hands went to her shoulders, helping her to stable herself as she looked up to see.....Fenrys. And Cauldron save her, he did not look happy at all. His onyx eyes were wide with anger as his grip on her tightened.

Before she could blink, he dragged her with him, not caring about the blue blood on her hands and arms getting on his skin too. She had no idea what was going on, where he was taking her, just stumbling behind him as he gripped her by the arm and lead the way.

"Fenrys what are you doing?"

He didn't answer.

"Fen, slow down!"

He didn't.

"I swear-"

He opened some door and shoved her in, following close behind before locking them in.

When he turned to face her, his fists were clenching and unclenching beside him as the vein on his neck was also popping out due to the clear anger at whataver it is that he was presenting her with.

Fenrys came to stand right in front of her, their chests touching as he suddenly grabbed her jaw with his hand and turned her face from one side to the other, assesing her.

Her brows furrowed, "Fenrys-"

"Shut up."

Well, he was definetly mad at her. His voice was filled with a mixture of frustration and worry.

Once Fenrys was done assesing her face, he took a step back before looking all over her body, from her head to her toes, to her wings. And once he was done with that too, he looked back at her eyes, his intense eyes focusing in on hers.

Y/n felt like she wanted to shrink and become invisible under his livid gaze. Before she could question him even further, he once again came to stand in front of her, looking down on her face.

"How dare you."

Confusion was evident in her face as y/n asked, "What?"

He suddenly grabbed her waist pressing her body to his with one arm and gently bringing her head to his chest while caressing her hair with the other.

Now, he whispered, "How dare you put yourself in the way of danger again. Didn't I promise you that I would shield you from any kind of darkness? How can you go there without telling me, risking yourself."

He was concerned for her? This was why he was mad? Because she put herself in danger?

"Fen-"

"What if it was you instead of Petrah? I would have to go on a full on killing spree then, paint this entire kingdom in black blood."

She tilted her head back, raising an eyebrow, "And where is this protectiveness coming from?"

That question seemed to change something in him, making realization over what he just said take over his face, causing him to slightly loosen his grip on her.

And then, he said the sentence that completely shattered any foolish feelings or growing hope within her chest, bringing her back to reality.

"How will you go back if you're dead? Can't have you dead on my watch, friend."

She pushed back, ripping herself out of his arms as she looked at him, her face full of rising anger and annoyance, "So that's it then? you need me alive so that you won't feel responsible or guilty if I end up dead? So that you can send me back to my world? That's it?"

Fenrys scoffed, crossing his arms, "What did you expect, y/n? That just because I talked with you, that because we kissed and I ate you out, we would have some sort of a relationship? Well, let me tell this to you now, erase any of those kinds of thoughts. You and I have no happy end. It was just purely physical."

It wasn't just purely physical though and he knew it. It was far more intimate than that.

Logically, he was right. They were nothing, they would always be nothing. Their story would be a tragedy instead of a happy one. She has to go back and he has to stay here. They were both stressed and used last night as an opportunity to be vulnurable and intimate with one another. Logically, she should agree with him because after what happened with Azriel, her heart shouldn't feel this way.

But, emotionally, she was just dissapointed. Why? She had no right. He was right, her mind was already getting ahead of itself, imagining a future that would never happen.

Foolish, foolish heart.

With a deep breath, she looked back at him, sculpturing her face into a mask of indifference as she moved past Fenrys, while speaking with a cool and steady voice, "You are right. We are a tragedy waiting to happen."

Before she could hear his reply, y/n quickly left the room, closing the door behind her as she strided towards the healers hut.

Once she reached the place, y/n saw everyone except Yrene and Lucien gathered in the room, waiting for Isolde to come out from the adjacent room with news. At her confused expression, Lysandra said from her place on the couch, "Lucien refused to leave her side. When Rowan and Aedion tried to move him away, he threatened to rip them apart."

Interesting.

She nodded her head slightly in understanding and looked around the room. Everyone's expression's were solemn and mournful, Manon looked worse than them all, Dorian kept on caressing her back and pecking her head with light, gentle kisses as she leaned on him.

She went and sat beside Manon in the corner of the room. Placing her hand on the queen's shoulder. Everyone was busy with their own hushed conversations as Manon whispered, for only y/n and Dorian to hear, "It's my fault."

Both the Illyrian and the king beside the witch replied at the same time, "No!"

Dorian's grip on her tightened, "It's absolutely not your fault, witchling. How-"

Manon just moved back from him, now sitting upright between y/n and him as she stared off into the distance with a sad smile, "The Thirteen died because of me. Now, she will die because of me too. I really am a kin slayer."

Y/n had no idea about who The Thirteen were but, she knew about Petrah and Manon for sure wasn't the one to blame for her injury.

Dorian took her face in his hands and turned her face towards him, "Manon, listen. The Thirteen chose to sacrifice themselves for a better world. You didn't force them, you didn't order them to do it. They did it because they loved you and wanted you to lead the witches into a brighter future."

She just shook her head and y/n put her hand on the witches, making both her and Dorian look at y/n. "Manon, we all went there while knowing what could've happened. Petrah went there, she followed you because you are her queen. You are her leader and she is loyal to you. Her loyalty and repect lies with you. We all fought and Petrah got that injury knowing that it was a possibility when we first came there. So I will not allow you to blame yourself over her attack."

The queen's expression was still sorrowful but the corner of her lips did twitch slightly while her grip on her hand tightened and y/n took it as a form of progress.

Manon whispered again, "When we were in Morath, Erawan would tell us how he was planning on sending his valg spies into the area between those to mountains in Orynth. That's why I thought maybe they could've still been there."

Aelin's voice made the three of them turn towards her and y/n's eyes caught Fenrys entering the room, no sign of any blue blood on him. He clearly changed out of his clothes. His eyes went straight to her but y/n willed herself to look at Aelin.

"Alright, since we are all here, waiting for news on Petrah's well-being, we might as well discuss our next move," the blond queen looked at Chaol who was still in a wheelchair next to Eva, "Chaol, since you're her husband, I am guessing you have an idea on Yrene's progress."

The man just sighed as he said, "Obviously, from the state that I am in, my wife is working very hard. I try my best to persuade her for some rest but, she won't move away from the damned books. She eats and drinks but doesn't sleep. And everytime I ask her on what's happening, she just shushes me and tells me 'soon'. So, that's all from me, really."

Aelin nodded and looked at y/n and Manon as she said, "And now, thanks to these four, we know where the valg may be hidden. We just don't know how many of them are there and how deep they are settled. We need a proper sketch and layout of their place."

Rowan got up and headed towards the door, "I will go find Nox. He is good at staying hidden and working stealthily."

Aedion looked at his cousin, "And once we figure every detail about them out, what then?"

Aelin looked at everyone in the room, "Then, we destroy them, and hopefully, whatever Yrene finds, will help us to completely end the valg. And then," the queen turned to look straight at y/n, her gaze unvawering, as she said, "And then, y/n closes the gates."

Y/n furrowed her brows, her heart rate increasing, "And how do I do that?"

Aelin crossed her arms, her gaze calculating, "I guess that is the only thing left for us to solve now."

So this was really happening now, wasn't it? Just one more step and she would be home with Lucien. Somehow, that thought left a sour taste in her mouth.

The door on the other side of the room opened, Isolde coming into view, everyone's attention went to her as she smiled slightly and said, "She will be fine. The wound was deep but no concerning damage was done to the internal organs. Thankfully, you managed to bring her quickly for medical intervention which is why a complication like infection wasn't observed either. She is still unconscious but hopefully, with our healing and treatments, she will be awake in a few days."

She heard audible sighs of relief, one coming from her and the witch beside her as Manon sagged back into Dorian's embrace while still holding y/n's hand.

"Thank you, Isolde." Aelin hugged the healer as everyone started to slowly exit the room. Fenrys glanced at her once more before pushing past Lorcan and leaving. Y/n guessed it was about time she went up to her room and washed up before hopefully, getting some much needed sleep.

Isolde opened the door and went back into the room, but not before y/n saw a glimpse of Lucien's red hair, as he sat on a chair, his head low, arms on his knees, right next to the bed Petrah was in.

He was an idiot. A fool.

Fenrys closed squeezed his eyes shut as he sat on his balcony floor, leaning against the wall six hours later. For the past few hours, ever since his little heated argument with her, he tried to keep himself busy, hoping that he would forget whatever was between them. Whatever this constant pain in his heart was.

After he left the healing hut, Fenrys shifted and took a walk through the woods to clear his mind. When that didn't work, he had Lorcan fight with him in the training ring. When that didn't work either, he immersed himself in paperwork, signing and reading countless letters and news for him. Unfortunately, two hours of that didn't help either so, he tried to help Yrene with the book-- solving whatever --but she kicked him out after only a half hour of work because according to her, 'he was stressing too much about something, which made her stress too.' And lastly, he sat with Abraxos and Luna but the two wyverns seemed to be quite occupied with one another, making him feel jealous of a Gods damned wyvern, so he left them too and came to his room, still unsuccessful in his conquest of forgetting y/n, staring blankly at the last rays of sunlight before the dawn of the sunset.

The face she had made when he had talked so cruelly to her constantly replayed itself in his mind, causing him to groan out in frustration. He didn't mean it. Gods curse him, he didn't mean any of it. But his foolish, stubborn side made him blabber those words out at her, still, for some reason, annoyed at the fact that she would leave soon. And Aelin openly stating that earlier didn't make it any better.

Why? Fenrys why?

That was a good question, one to which he still had no answer. Fenrys definetly felt something for her, that much he can admit and after what happened last night, his feelings only intensified. But she wasn't his. Yes, he made a promise and yes he would keep it. Even when she will be long gone, back to her world, he would still ensure that her light never dims.

But it was normal right? Friends care and protect one another and y/n had become a very good friend to him in these last few weeks.

Friends don't kiss each other on the lips.

He ignored that silly little voice. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days, ignoring.

Fenrys sighed and opened his eyes, soaking in the view in front of him. He acted like an uncultured beast towards her today. He could never stoop as low as anyone else in her life did towards her, as Azriel did towards her. Gods, if he made her feel pained, what is his difference from that other male? If she ever told him that he was just like Azriel, Fenrys would have to kill that bastard male first and then kill himself because none of them ever deserved her kindness, her care....her heart. And that wouldn't do. He had to apologize, had to make amends, but how?

You know how, idiot. The place.

But, is she the one? Does she deserve to see that place? To recieve that gift from him? He meant to show that place only and only to his mate, if he ever found them.

Don't be foolish, Fenrys. Show her.

A sudden surge of determination and need took over his senses as Fenrys got up and headed towards his bane of existence's room.

He knocked on the door once, she didn't open.

Twice, she didn't open.

On the third time, the door opened and he was met with a very angry yet adorable looking witchling.

She clearly woke up from some kind of a nap because her hair was a mess, her cheeks were red and her clothes were crumpled. But what made her even cuter was the way she tried to seem intimidating by giving him an angry glare and crossing her arms over her chest.

"What."

That one word brought Fenrys back from his little world as he cleared his throat and told her, "Get changed, I am taking you somewhre."

She was about to protest when he raised his hand, effectively silencing her. "I'm sorry if that sounded like a question. Get changed, I am taking you somewhere."

And with that, Fenrys turned around and left down the hall with a smirk, knowing how curious she was and that in the end, it would win over her other feelings, making her follow him.

Twenty minutes later, he saw her come down, dressed in a simple long sleeved, ankle length, light gold dress that still somehow managed to make her the most attractive being he had ever laid his eyes upon.

She was furious but in the end, her curiosity got the best of her as she got ready while still cursing Fenrys' name and whatever his plans were. But, seeing him so enthralled with her, taking her in from head to toe when she came down the stairs, made y/n feel a level of confidence and power that she had never felt before.

Fenrys himself looked beyond attractive as she took him in. Hair let loose, cascading down to his chest, a simple white tunic and black pants with knee high boots. Yet he still looked so hot and delicious and otherworldly and charming and-

Enough. What's wrong with you??

Y/n reached him and cleared her throat, causing the male to refocus his attention on the reality. He put his palm behind his neck, rubbing it as he smiled a little, "You look....beautiful."

She wanted to thank him, to compliment him in return but, he still had a long explanation to make and she wasn't about to just forgive him this easily.

Fenrys turned towards the doors and said, "Follow me."

And follow him she did. They walked inside the forest, going deeper and deeper with each passing second, making y/n question her choice of wearing a dress. It seemed like hours, sunset already starting, before they reached the apparent location. Multiple rows of vines were hanging from trees, covering the view beyond. Once Fenrys made way for them, they reached an opening.

And y/n let out an audible gasp at what she saw.

Soft, iridescent mist drifted lazily through the air, catching the dappled rays of sunset that filtered down from the canopy above. The ground beneath was carpeted with lush moss that glowed with a faint, silvery luminescence, casting gentle reflections onto the surrounding foliage.

In the center of the glade, a crystalline pool of water shimmers like liquid sapphire, its surface as smooth as glass and. Ethereal blossoms of palest blue and silver grew along the water's edge, their delicate petals unfolding in silent reverence to the magical energies that imbue the glade.

Towering ancient trees with silver-barked trunks encircle the glade, their branches adorned with shimmering leaves that seem to dance with every breath of wind. Ethereal creatures, elusive and radiant, flit among the branches, their forms translucent and their voices a melody that echoes through the glade.

And because it was dusk, the glade took on an otherworldly glow. Fireflies with wings of opalescent hues emerged from hidden alcoves, their gentle bioluminescence creating a constellation of flickering lights that hover above the glade like a canopy of stars.

"I found this place absolutely ruined after the war and transformed into what it is now. No one knows of it's existence. Well, apart from you and me."

Y/n turned her head to look at Fenrys, a little behind her, also looking around as he continued, "I found this place on accident, really. I saw the lake and though everything around it was destroyed, it still shimmered, still called to me. I also felt the immense magical presence still surrounding this place."

He looked up with a serene smile, "The Little Folk also helped me. They recognized me as someone who was worthy enough of helping, and aided me in creating this place. Ever since then, it has just been a secret. A well kept one. And I have been coming here whenever I needed an escape, which seems to be happening more and more nowadays." he finished his explanation with a low chukle.

Y/n's lips trembled as she started to slowly approach him, her voice shaky as she asked, "Why? Why show this place to me then?"

Now standing side by side, right next to the water, he turned to face her, his face becoming serious once more, "Y/n, I am truly so sorry for what I have said to you. I know I may be hard to be around with but I am trying, I am trying and it's for you. Only you. I will be truthful for I do not enjoy lying. I have come to feel some things towards you. A mixture of things, actually. Care, adoration, respect, loyalty. I have come to enjoy your presence in my life, too much actually. And I know I shouldn't because you will leave at some point. You will leave and forget me-"

She shut him up with a kiss. He was startled for a moment but then kissed her back. Her hands came around to his back as he pulled her even closer. After what felt like forever, they pulled back for air, both of them panting heavily as y/n whispered, "I will never forget you, Fenrys."

The second she said that, he pushed back, his eyes going wide, clutching his chest.

He was planning on giving her the gift. The one he had created so many years ago with a silly little hope of ever gifting it to his mate. The special one. But what was happening to him now, made him realize that it wasn't a silly little hope. It was real.

Fenrys suddenly felt that unmistakable bond, that unmistakable golden thread that began woving itself within him. That immediate rush of unexplainable mix of emotions and powers hitting him, making him realize that.....

Y/n, the y/n standing in front of him, was Fenrys' mate.

Oh, fuck.

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[allyallyorange]

The End of The Beast

AT AU Master Post

Shall I lore dump a bit?

CW // description of violence

Basically during the time Yeosang and 2ho are dimension hopping, Mingi’s fire powers start really getting out of control. He gets in an argument with Wooyoung and he realizes that he is getting too dangerous to be around his friends, he can’t guarantee he’ll be able to stop himself from turning into the beast and like setting the house on fire. So he decides to leave.

Hongjoong and Woosan try to bring him back but they always seem to be a step behind. It’s easy to find where he’s been cus he leaves a trail of destruction but they can never catch up.

One night when brainstorming how they could get Mingi to wake up/break the curse Wooyoung says they should just cut off Mingi’s hand at this point. When Hongjoong starts actually considering it San shuts it down cus he’s absolutely not willing to go that far and severely injure their friend.

Hongjoong doesn’t like the idea of hurting Mingi but he’s tried Everything he could possibly think of to break Mingi’s curse, he’s spent like 600 years looking for a way to break it. He tells Wooyoung that when they find Mingi, he’s got a plan, and he needs Wooyoung to just trust him on this. Wooyoung agrees.

Team Yeosang return home. They were away for about a month and a half Universe A time. Hongjoong announces that they’re all gonna go out to hunt for Mingi now that they’re all together, and hey Mingi’s always had a special connection with 2Ho maybe they’ll be able to snap him out of it (this is not the real plan).

Wooyoung tells Yeosang secretly that Joong has an idea that everyone may or may not seriously disagree with but they might need Yeosang’s help to make it work. Yeosang feels a little bad when he looks back on how he’d acted towards the others after Seonghwa’s death, so he agrees to please Wooyoung.

They find Mingi and the plan goes like this

1) fight him like usual and see if he just wakes up on his own (does not work)

2) tire him out with San’s ice, shrink the flames down

3) Hongjoong takes control of San’s body. Hongjoong has always had this ability but he avoids using it since it’s kinda messed up to do to someone. But basically both San and Hongjoong are fully conscious but Hongjoong is controlling San’s movements and San can basically see everything and react and talk but he can only try his best to get control back. Hongjoong is a lot more powerful than San though so although San makes it difficult, and throws off the accuracy of Joong’s movements, he can’t get him out of his head.

Usually the plan is to diminish The Beast’s flames and hope when there aren’t any left that Mingi just snaps out of it, but this time the goal is to get straight to Mingi.

Wooyoung holds 2Ho back in a cage of vines, they are very unhappy with this, they can’t see what’s going on but they can hear San screaming at Hongjoong to stop whatever it is he’s doing.

Hongjoong struggles to get San to fight Mingi all the way down, so Woo calls for Yeosang to knock him down, which he does. Mingi’s still The Beast so he’s very much still on fire, Yeosang is a vampire so he heals quickly, but the fire still hurts. He still manages to get close enough to bring Mingi down.

Hongjoong makes a move and stabs Mingi, truthfully he’d been aiming for maybe forearm but struck all the way up at the shoulder. San fighting back made Joong’s aim truly horrible, but it was too late to take it back atp. So Joong commits to taking Mingi’s whole right arm off.

Mingi’s screaming and thrashing around and San is screaming for Hongjoong to stop it. As soon as Mingi’s arm is fully detached the fire stops. Hongjoong leaves San’s head immediately after.

That’s enough I think! It’s kind of a lot of info but the AU has a LOT of info!!!

I hope you enjoyed!!

[littlelightbolt]

TF one bumblebee thoughts...

It will never happen and I understand it was for gags for kids.

It wouldn't have fit in the film but I think Bumblebee in TF one would be interesting if he were truly like psychologically damaged more.

I was okay with how bee came across in the movie when I watched it cause I read it as him trying to cope from his imprisonment.

That mech has mental scars.

It would have been interesting to disposition his situation being down in sub level 50 to be like jail level isolation punishment.

It would be interesting if there was a montage of his days down under. A scene of him being anger? Crying? Counting the days? Being silent? Being driven touch starved.

Him being so detached when he starts to destroy the comms centre and rip soldiers apart later on in the film is something to be explored fr fr.

Speaks for his inflected hyperactivity/ forcefully inflicted upon him ADHD? (I feel like they-darkwing and co- made him who is in the movie) too, he needed an outlet. But that AIN'T a healthy outlet ya hear?

The lack of seriousness or remorse is something so very uncommon for bee. Or for any of them, crept megs.

Is it because they young and dumb?????

And I kinda feel fight scene cool but, EVERY single one of them had no real reflection that they just took the life of someone ya know????

Anyway, Bee is not RIght in the head and needs therapy.

If in TF two he gets his voice box destroyed that would be PEAK trauma for him. As this scar runs deep from his origins.

But at the end of the day, it's a KIds movie too so we will never get to see the connection between their detachment to near death exp and their life culture. Except for that brief sec where Jazz almost died.

I find that scene to be not enough of a reflection of their cultural opinion of life and death.

Sorry wanted to add this on:

Like wtf did Bee do to deserve being locked away like that? - darkwing could have been used to elaborate more on this I guess (to really home in that superior abuse)

[hazelira]

Wrong Person, Right Time

The dim glow of the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement as you stood outside the café, the cool night air biting at your skin. Heeseung was late again, but you were used to it by now. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, watching the steam rise from your coffee cup as it grew colder, much like the man you were waiting for. It had been months since the two of you started this strange dance—seeing each other but never truly connecting. Heeseung was distant, his words sharp, his gaze detached. Yet, somehow, you had convinced yourself there was something worth holding onto, something beneath that cold exterior that still made you hope. The sound of footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. You looked up to see Heeseung walking toward you, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his face expressionless. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes briefly meeting yours before glancing away as if the sight of you wasn’t worth the effort.

“You’re late,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. He shrugged, not even bothering to apologize. “I had things to do.” You bit your lip, forcing down the disappointment that had become familiar. “Heeseung, we need to talk.” His eyes flicked toward you, a hint of irritation in them. “About what?” You inhaled deeply, gathering the courage to say what had been weighing on you for weeks. “About us. About how you’ve been treating me.” A faint scoff escaped his lips, and he leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed.

“What is there to talk about? I thought we were… having fun.” The words stung more than you cared to admit. “Fun? Is that what this is to you?” Heeseung's eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth you used to imagine he was capable of. “What else would it be?” You swallowed hard, your throat tight to hold back tears. “I thought maybe… maybe we could be something more.” For the briefest moment, something flashed in his eyes—regret, doubt, you weren’t sure—but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the same detached indifference he always wore around you. “You were wrong,” he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. “I’m not the person you think I am.” The weight of his words hung between you, crushing any hope you had left. You had given him everything—your time, your heart, your vulnerability—and he had only given you distance in return. He wasn’t cruel, not in the obvious way. His cruelty lay in his indifference, in the way he could break your heart without even caring that he was doing it. “I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I thought that maybe… the timing was right. That we were meant to be.” Heeseung’s gaze softened for a split second before hardening again, and he pushed himself off the wall. “Timing has nothing to do with it. Even if it was the right time… I’m still the wrong person.” The finality of his words hit you like a wave, and you nodded, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. You had known all along, hadn’t you? Known that Heeseung would never be the person you needed, who would love you how you wanted to be loved. But you had convinced yourself that with time, he would change. That you could be enough for him. But now, standing here in the cold night air, you realize that you weren’t. You never were.

“I guess that’s it then,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Heeseung’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the slightest flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost made you believe he cared. Almost. “Yeah,��� he said quietly. “That’s it.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you with your cooling coffee and a heart that felt too heavy to carry. You watched him disappear into the night, the sound of his footsteps fading until all that was left was silence. You stood there for a long time, staring at where he had been, wondering how long it would take for the ache in your chest to go away.

You had loved the wrong person at what you thought was the right time. But maybe you realized there was never a suitable time for someone like Heeseung. You stood there, frozen in place, as Heeseung's silhouette disappeared into the darkness. The ache in your chest only deepened with every second that passed, the weight of your unspoken hopes and shattered dreams pressing down on you. Your mind replayed his words on a loop. "I’m still the wrong person." You had known, deep down, from the very beginning. Heeseung had always been distant, always held a part of himself back. Yet you clung to those rare moments when his guard slipped, his gaze softened, and you felt like you mattered for a second—those fleeting moments had kept you hanging on, convinced that beneath the cold exterior, a version of Heeseung cared. But tonight, he had made it clear. It wasn’t about time, circumstances, or you are not trying hard enough. It was about him.

You began walking, your steps heavy as you descended the empty street. The cold night air stung your face, but you welcomed it, hoping it would numb the deep pain in your bones. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you didn’t reach for it. You weren’t ready to face the world yet. As you walked, memories of you and Heeseung flooded your mind. The late-night drives, the silent moments where you thought you understood each other without words, the way his hand would hover near yours but never quite hold it. After weeks of silence, he had shown up at your door, not explain, just a quiet presence that you mistook for affection. You had never asked for much. You just wanted him to see you. To feel for you the way you felt for him. But he had always been out of reach, no matter how hard you tried. By the time you reached your apartment, exhaustion had settled in—emotional more than physical. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, the quiet of your home swallowing you whole. The stillness was suffocating. The kind that reminded you just how alone you were. Sinking onto the couch, you let the tears finally fall.

Silent, heavy sobs that you had been holding back for too long. You had loved him. Maybe not in the way people write about in stories, but in the way that kept you awake at night, wondering if you weren’t enough or if he didn’t care. And now you knew the answer. Heeseung’s words echoed in your head. “Even if it was the right time… I’m still the wrong person.” You wished you could hate him. You wished you could scream and curse him for breaking your heart, for leading you on, for being cold and distant when all you wanted was for him to let you in. But the truth was, you couldn’t hate him. Because maybe, in some ways, he was right. Maybe Heeseung was never meant to be yours. Perhaps he was just a lesson—a painful reminder that sometimes, you can't force someone to love you, no matter how hard you try or how much you want. Timing didn’t matter if the person you wanted couldn’t give you what you needed. You wiped at your face, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. There was nothing more to say, no more words that could change what had happened tonight. No matter how perfect the moment might have seemed, the wrong person, the wrong love. And yet, as the silence wrapped around you like a heavy blanket, you couldn’t help but wonder: if Heeseung was the wrong person, then who was the right one? Would you ever find them? Or would you spend the rest of your life chasing shadows, hoping for someone who could never be yours? With a sigh, you picked up your phone. A few unread messages blinked back at you—friends, asking if you were okay, checking in.

You forced yourself to respond, typing a quick reply: “I’m fine. Just need some time”. And maybe, in time, you would be fine. Perhaps the ache in your heart would dull, and the memories of Heeseung’s cold indifference would fade into the background. Maybe one day, you’d find someone who would love you the way you deserved—entirely, without hesitation. But tonight, as you lay back on your couch and closed your eyes, you allowed yourself to feel the weight of it all. The wrong person at the right time. And the lingering question of when—or if—the right person would ever come. The days that followed felt like a blur. Time passed in fragments—work, errands, small talk with friends who didn’t know about the hollow ache in your chest. You went through the motions, but a part of you was stuck in that cold night, still hearing Heeseung’s detached voice, still replaying the way he had walked away without looking back. You had told yourself you were fine. That you would move on, as people do. And maybe, on the surface, you were doing exactly that. But in the quiet moments, when no one else was around, the weight of it all came crashing down. You hadn’t lost Heeseung that night—you had never really had him. Sometimes, you almost reach for your phone and send a message you know you shouldn’t. But something always held you back. Pride? Fear? A mixture of both. You didn’t want to be the one who came crawling back, not to someone who couldn’t even see your worth. Not to someone who had already clarified that he wasn’t the right person for you. But then, one evening, after a long day that felt heavier than usual, you couldn’t stop yourself. You opened your phone, scanned the contacts, and hovered over Heeseung’s name. Some of you hoped he might have reached out, but deep down, you knew better. He wouldn’t. He was too wrapped up in his world; you were just a fleeting part. Still, you typed a simple message that didn’t show how broken you felt. “I hope you’re doing well.” You stared at the text for a long time, your finger hovering over the send button. Should you? What would it change? Heeseung had decided, and you were the one left picking up the pieces. Yet a part of you needed closure, needed something to end this chapter for good. You weren’t expecting a grand reconciliation. You weren’t even expecting a reply. You just needed to let go, once and for all. Before you could second-guess yourself, you hit send. The screen blinked, and the message was gone in the digital abyss. You sat there for a moment, the silence of your apartment louder than usual. Seconds turned into minutes, and the longer you waited, the more you realized how foolish you had been to think he might respond. You put your phone down, deciding to distract yourself with anything else. It's a movie. Cleaning.

Anything but waiting for a message you knew wouldn’t come. But then, as you turned away, your phone buzzed. Your heart jumped into your throat. It was irrational, but you couldn’t stop the flicker of hope that bloomed in your chest. You grabbed the phone, hands trembling slightly. Heeseung: "I’m fine. You?” The words were so simple, so empty, that a stranger might have as well written them. There was no warmth or acknowledgment of the deeper connection you once shared. Just a superficial response, as if you were nothing more than an acquaintance passing by. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. What could you say? He wasn’t offering an olive branch. He wasn’t trying to reconnect. He was being polite; maybe even that was too much to hope for. “I’m okay,” you typed back. “Just thinking about things.” Another pause. Another stretch of silence that seemed to go on forever. And then, his reply: “Good to hear.” Three words. That was all you got. You stared at the screen, feeling foolish for ever reaching out in the first place. What had you expected? That he would suddenly open up, admit he had been wrong, tell you he missed you? No. That wasn’t Heeseung. It had never been Heeseung. You put your phone down, trying to fight back the wave of disappointment that threatened to overwhelm you. You had told yourself you wanted closure, but now you realized that closure wasn’t something Heeseung could give you. It was something you had to find on your own. And maybe that was the hardest part—accepting that some people, no matter how much you care about them, will never give you the answers you need. Some people will always be out of reach, no matter how hard you try to hold on. For the rest of the night, you didn’t recheck your phone. You didn’t need to. Heeseung had said all he needed to say. And you had finally understood what you needed to understand. The wrong person at the right time. But maybe, just maybe, the right time wasn’t meant for him. Maybe it was meant for you. A time to let go, heal, and find something better—someone better. You weren’t sure when that would happen, but for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe it would. Because you deserved more than half-hearted replies and distant affection. You deserved someone who saw you, who chose you. And when the right person came along, you would be ready. But for now, you closed your eyes, breathed in the stillness, and let yourself finally begin to heal. As the days turned into weeks, you slowly began to find your way out of the haze Heeseung had left you in. It wasn’t easy; there were nights when the weight of his absence still pressed against your chest, and the quiet hours of the early morning made it difficult to shake the lingering memories. But with each passing day, you thought about him a little less.

You threw yourself into new projects, rediscovered old hobbies, and spent more time with the people who truly made you feel seen. Your friends noticed your change, offering small reassurances and support whenever the loneliness crept in. You realized that for too long, you had been waiting for Heeseung to fill a space in your heart that he was never capable of filling. And that space was slowly being filled by things you had neglected in the pursuit of something unattainable. It was on a quiet Sunday afternoon when something shifted. You were at a café, your favourite one, sipping coffee and catching up on a book you hadn’t touched in months. The sunlight streamed through the window, warming your face as you leaned back in your chair. It felt peaceful—something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced down, half-expecting another notification that held no real significance. But when you saw Heeseung’s name flash across the screen, your heart skipped a beat, the all-too-familiar feeling of hope and dread stirring in your chest. Heeseung: “Hey. Do you have time to talk?” Your fingers hovered over the phone as a flood of emotions hit you. You weren’t sure if you should respond. What could he possibly have to say now? After all the cold distance, all the time that had passed, after you had begun to heal, he wanted to talk? Part of you felt tempted to ignore it, to protect yourself from opening that wound again. But another part of you, the one that had loved him deeply, couldn’t let it go without knowing why he had reached out. So you typed back, your fingers steady despite the uncertainty in your heart. “I’m free. What’s up?” Minutes passed, and then your phone rang. Seeing his name on the screen again caught your breath, but you answered before you could second-guess yourself. “Heeseung?” you said, your voice quieter than intended. There was a pause on the other end as if he was gathering his thoughts. His voice was calm when he spoke, but there was an underlying tension that hadn’t been there the last time you’d spoken.

“Hey. I’ve been thinking a lot,” he began, his words measured. “About us. About everything.” You stayed silent, unsure of what to say. What could you say when everything you once wanted to hear from him was coming at the wrong time? “I know I hurt you,” Heeseung continued, his tone serious. “And I don’t know if I can say anything to improve it. I’ve been selfish. Distant. And I kept telling myself it was because I wasn’t ready or the wrong person for you. But the truth is… I was scared.” You swallowed hard, your heart beating faster at his confession. You had waited so long for him to admit what you had always known, but now, hearing it felt bittersweet. “I didn’t know how to let you in,” he said, his voice softer now. “I kept pushing you away because I didn’t want to deal with how much I cared. And by the time I realized it… I had already hurt you.” You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. This was what you had wanted. For him to acknowledge the pain he had caused? To see that he hadn’t been as indifferent as he’d led you to believe? But now that the moment was here, it felt like too little, too late.

“I’m sorry, Heeseung,” you said quietly, choosing your words carefully. “But you were right. You “were” the wrong person for me. Not because you were scared but because you couldn’t let yourself care when I needed you the most. I’ve spent so much time waiting for you to realize it, and now you have… I’m not sure it changes anything.” The silence on the other end of the line was heavy. You could hear his breath catch, the weight of your words sinking in. “I didn’t call to ask you to forgive me or ask for anything,” he said, his voice strained. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve thought about it. About you. And that I’m sorry.” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I appreciate that,” you replied, feeling a sense of closure. “But I think we’ve both moved on from what we had or thought we had.” Heeseung was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again, his voice lower, more resigned. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

His words had no anger or bitterness—just a quiet acceptance of what you had both known. “Take care of yourself, Heeseung,” you said softly, knowing this was the last time you would speak to him like this. “You too,” he replied, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. When the call ended, you stared at the phone in your hand, feeling a strange sense of peace. It was done. The chapter with Heeseung, the wrong person at the right time, was finally closed. For the first time in a long time, you felt free to move forward and find someone who would be the right person for you.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

‘Gun Play’ & ‘Fear Play’ w/ Scarecrow (for Kinktober 2024)

Title: take this gun and cock it

Rating: Mature 

Fandom: Batman Trilogy (Nolanverse) 

Characters: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow); Female Reader Insert

Pairing: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)/Female Reader 

Summary: You knew you shouldn’t have put Dr. Crane on your dissertation committee, but he had the most pull in the Neuropharmacology world in and around Gotham. If you wanted to make a name for yourself in this profession, you’d need to get on his good side. After several passive-aggressive meetings with said professor, you decide enough is enough. If research and academia won’t show him, you will. So one afternoon, you walk into his private office intending to once and for all, prove to your Professor that pleasure is just as great, if not superior, of a motivator as fear. [Warning: Reader is high-key insane in this, like, almost as nuts as Crane. But be aware, this is a dark fic with very unequal power dynamics at play.] 

Trigger Warning(s): Gunplay; Drugging; Threats of Violence; Implied Sex; Dubious Consent (due to the whole pointing a gun at him thing); Very Unsafe Firearm Practices (that would probably get this fic sponsored by the NRA); [Lowkey] Dead Dove, Do Not Eat

A/N: Here it is- my first-ever attempt at participating in Kinktober! So please go easy on me. 

♔☍☣ ♔☍☣♔☍☣ ♔☍☣

“Knock, knock.” Poking your head into Dr. Professor Crane’s doorway, you flashed your teacher a cunning smile. “Got a sec?” 

Not bothering to look up from his paperwork, Dr. Professor Crane’s answer was detached as per his usual. 

“Office hours are posted on the door. If you must speak with me,” Jonathan sighed, tired of the frequent idiotic interruptions from fatuous students, “Sign up for a time slot. I don’t accept walk-ins.”  

You playfully pouted, your recently glossed lips pursing into the shape of a frown. 

“Surely that doesn’t include me? Especially since… I brought you coffee!” 

Upon hearing your oddly chipper voice, Dr. Crane looked up, a perturbed expression on his face. 

You waited silently as he sized you up, your gleeful exterior not shirking under his ice-blue gaze. 

“Come in,” Crane finally settled on, the fresh coffee too tempting of an opportunity to pass up. 

“One large black coffee, regular, just how you like it.” 

You held out the beverage for him to take, blinking impatiently as he ignored your physical presence and instead went back to reading. With a roll of your eyes, you placed the styrofoam cup at the top of his desk. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, you delved into the matter. 

“So, uh, Dr. Professor Crane,” you started, “I wanted to speak to you about my upcoming thesis defense—” 

“Mhm-hm,” Crane mumbled, already having written off the remainder of this interaction. 

“Well, I was wondering if—” 

“No.” 

“I’m, I’m sorry?” 

“I don’t give extensions. If you wanted to become a Doctor you should have thought of the effort required before applying to this program.” 

You couldn’t help but sputter at the bastard’s words. Did he honestly think you were here to grovel before him? To get on your hands and knees and beg for an extension?! Oh, how rich! 

After all the hoops you’ve jumped through, after all the changes and additional inclusions you made solely for his approval, for his benefit, did he truly think you had any intention of doing one more single thing he asked? 

‘Oh no. Oh no, no, no,’ you thought. ‘I’m not the one that’s going to leave this office begging.’ 

You knew you needed his support for there to be unanimous approval from your dissertation committee concerning your upcoming thesis defense next week. And you knew from all the previous horror stories you’d heard through the Gotham University grapevine that in most cases, Crane was often students’ one stubborn holdout. 

You knew you shouldn’t have picked him to be your dissertation advisor. But dammit, he was the best in the field of Neuropharmacology, so you figured you’d just suck it up and get on his good side. The only problem was, the man didn’t seem to have a good side!

Every semester, every class with him was like pulling teeth: torturously slow and agonizingly painful. You worked your ass off, day and night, working full-time while juggling a full course load only to be demeaned and nitpicked every chance he got. You were consistently the best in your class, and yet not once did Dr. Crane ever offer an encouraging word or a simple ‘great work’. But oh boy, did he have tons to say the second you’d make one teeny-tiny mistake. 

It made your blood boil. 

And the man simply would not shut the hell up about fear!

Fear, fear, fear, fear— it’s all he ever enjoyed lecturing about! It was obsessive! It had to be. 

The way his fascination with fear and adrenaline would pervade their way into other topic discussions, so you wound up responsible for teaching yourself his lesson material nearly half the time. You swore he talked about fear so much, that some of your fellow students ended up having fear-induced psychotic breaks themselves! 

At least, that’s what you used to think. 

After a particularly harsh meeting with Dr. Crane, your adversarial thesis advisor, you ran into a fellow Psychology student as you entered the bathroom. Seeing your tearful expression and feeling concerned for your well-being, they cautioned you against working too closely with Crane any further. Confused, you wiped the tears and snot off your face and asked for them to clarify what they meant. 

Apparently, someone, they weren’t sure who— probably a former flunkee student— started the vicious rumor that Crane was using his students as guinea pigs to conduct unauthorized experiments surrounding fear, and the nervous system’s fear response. 

She said that several students had reported leaving lectures feeling nauseous, and unexpectedly anxious. Of course, it could have just been the grotesque nature of the material or the fact that Dr. Crane was a frightening teacher to perform for, but some of them had sworn they must've been hit with something inside his classroom. 

It all sounded so farfetched, like the B-plot to a bad sci-fi movie. It couldn’t possibly be true. But then, the reality of your past experiences in his lectures came crashing down onto you like a tidal wave. 

You were always so worked up, so angry when you left his lectures. You had just assumed it was because you found the man infuriating but what if… 

‘What if,’ your mind supplied, ‘What if your anger, your elevated heart rate— what if all of it, was your nervous system’s fight or flight response having been activated by some secret drug?’ 

That’s when it all fell into place. It was like your blinders had been ripped off, exposing you, in an instant, to the harsh reality: 

Your Professor, Dr. Jonathan Crane had spent the last few years drugging you, and getting away with it. 

You didn’t know what pissed you off more, the fact that he used you as a lab rat or the fact that this little ongoing experiment of his was most likely the reason behind why he had such dissent for your thesis. 

Your entire argument was that, as far as human motivators go, pleasure and reward had a much stronger influence compared to the fear of pain or punishment. 

But of course! 

It made sense that Dr. Crane took issue with that stance when his entire ideology revolved around how fear, not pleasure, not reward, ruled the mind above all else. 

The cherry on top was that your unknowing participation in his sick game only further proved his point: your anger, triggered by your fear of failure, had driven you to work as hard as you did. No wonder he was so eager to criticize your manuscript! Every single time he watched your nostrils flare and your lips purse, he would know his theory was being proven right. 

Well… not this time. Oh, no. This time, you were going to be the one pulling the strings and he was going to be the little white mouse, wondering which fork in the maze to take. 

Was it risky? Oh, for sure. He could have you kicked out of the program, hell probably even arrested and tried for assault. But you just couldn’t curb your desire to do to him what he spent all those years doing to you. You wanted to watch him squirm, wanted to see his pupils blown, and his irises thin as his trembling figure begged for release from your experimental ministrations. 

Who knows? Maybe all that medication he’d been slipping you had made you mad. 

It was his fault, really. As a psychologist, he should have seen this coming. 

Tut tut. 

Oh, well! There was nothing he could do now. Not at the moment anyway. 

Seated across from where you stood looking over his desk, Dr. Crane may not have known it, but he’d handed you the reins to the experimental controls long ago. From the second he started dosing you, this prognosis was inevitable. 

It was like he always said: “The mind could only take so much.” 

You walked around to the side of his desk, blocking his view of the door and the hall outside. 

‘How cute,’ You thought. How cute how he pretended not to notice the change in your position, nor be intimidated by it. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, demanding his attention. “As I was saying, Professor,” you intentionally skipped his other title, “I need to speak with you a minute.” 

Brows furrowing, Dr. Crane momentarily took off his glasses before rubbing his forehead trying to relieve some of the building tension. Unsuccessful in the attempt, Crane placed his rectangular glasses back on the bridge of his nose and turned his attention back to you. 

The deprecatory nature of his stare combined with his piercing light blue eyes had the opposite effect. If you hadn’t learned the true nature of his psyche, you might have once again been intimidated by them. Rather than unnerve you, they made him appear susceptible. It was too late. You saw him for what he was now: a coward. 

It was… appetizing. 

Behind those frozen irises, behind that steely gaze was a scared little boy, playing dress-up, trying desperately to look stronger and bigger than he was. 

Dr. Jonathan Crane was simply a scared little kid, masked in a psychologist's trench coat. 

And now, you thought it high time to unmask him. 

Ignoring his judgemental gaze, you moved even closer. 

“I’m just trying to understand, Professor.” 

Taking a seat on the corner of his desk, you were very much aware of how your deceptively short pencil skirt pulled taut against your thighs. 

“I think my summation of the available data makes it pretty clear…” 

You shifted all of your weight to one red high-heeled foot. The other you allowed to dangle loosely from where your bent knee met the edge of the professor’s dark oak desk. 

“The brain’s reward center, dopamine— pleasure, is notably a greater motivator than fear.” 

Licking your lips, you couldn't help but watch with wicked delight as the good doctor’s neck tensed, his muscles no doubt straining against the growing, sinful desire to glance downwards at the obvious part between your legs. 

You tilted your dangling heel down, the pointed tip of your shoe grazing ever so slightly, ever so suggestively against your dear mentor’s outer thigh. Gleefully, you wondered if he could pick up the scent of your arousal, the two of you currently less than a foot apart. 

“Wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Ms. (L/N),” Crane started.

“Come now, Doctor. Surely you, of all people, know that throughout human history, both mentally and physiologically speaking, pleasure has been, at the very least, as influential of a motivator as fear?” 

Your dangly earring shook with the slight tilt of your head. 

“People love to chase what feels good, what excites them, what makes them feel alive! Regardless of whether or not that thing isn’t good for them.” 

Your equally distracting red-manicured fingers began to trace gentle circles around your outer ankle bone, the ends of your nails briefly swiping over the black material of his suit pants. 

“Humans’ desire to feel pleasure wins out over their ability to behave rationally.” 

Professor Dr. Crane swallowed tersely before nodding. 

“I would agree with that statement.” 

Jonathan pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, using the momentum as an inconspicuous opportunity to scooch his chair back, away from your contact. 

“However, I would maintain the argument that fear holds a much more pivotal role in the survival of a species. And is, therefore, much more consequential in its provocations.” 

“Hmm…” You pursed your lips together, obviously only pretending to be deep in thought. 

Across from you, Jonathan’s resentment for your pathetic salacious attempt only grew as he watched your actions morph into something akin to mockery. 

You were his inferior! How dare you question him?!

It was bad enough the university board was breathing down his neck, now he had some pseudo-confident slutty graduate student to contend with as well. 

Oh, you would pay for this. He would make you regret this little attention-whore stunt of yours. Just you wait…

Unfettered by the way Professor Crane’s jaw clenched, you continued your practiced spiel. 

“I can see why you’d champion that. After all, your experiments here are centered around patients' reactions to fearful stimuli.” Unbothered, you checked your manicure before foxily pushing yourself off the desk, your high heels landing with a pointed ‘clack’ sound as they hit the floor. 

“Makes sense why you’d be unable to recognize an opposing, although equally valid theory.” 

“My grading is objective and based entirely on a student’s performance. And for you to imply otherwise—” Professor Crane’s piercing blue eyes stayed confidently fixed on yours.

“But it’s subjective too,” you countered, stepping directly in front of the man. 

“You’re judging my performance on your personal model. A biased model ingrained in you, that your deeply held beliefs reign superior. To you, fear is the end all be all; it’s the cornerstone of human motivation. You can’t accept my performance as worthy or eligible when you're fixated on your own theory. Your superiority complex prevents you from being anything other than subjective as far as my research, my papers— even my very existence in your class is concerned.” 

“It is not a discredit to my insight that you are incapable of seeing the depth of my genius—” Jonathan started to heatedly refute your assessment, but you cut him off. 

Stepping forward, you placed your knee on the edge of his chair, centering it between his own.

“I know about your experiments.” 

You kept your tone low so that only he could hear. 

“I know the board is growing suspicious, thinking of ‘asking’ you to resign.” You said, making air quotes. “I know all about your special ‘cocktail’ the night of the Christmas Eve Party. I know the cops have been sniffing around, and it’s only a matter of time before those inbred idiots start asking that poor girl the right questions.” 

“What do you want?” Jonathan asked, keeping a stiff upper lip. 

Mindful not to alert you to his plan of action, Jonathan remained calm. He could still regain control here. 

The man also known as Scarecrow to his Arkham patients was keenly aware that his briefcase containing his fear gas briefcase and Scarecrow mask was situated just to the left of you, resting inconspicuously on his desk. 

If he could just make a move for it without you becoming wise to his plan. 

‘What are you waiting for?!’ A scratchy, harsh voice inside Jonathon’s mind chided the Doctor for his hesitation. ‘Do it! Show her that fear is our domain, not hers, not hers! It’s time!’

‘It’s always time, isn’t it?’ Jonathan’s much smoother voice commented drearily. ‘Time to run. Time to cower.’ 

Time to just keep his head down and accept the consequences, accept how shameful, how broken he was. 

‘No! No! It’s time to fight back! Time to glower! Time to gloat and rule over those puny imbeciles who’ve done us wrong. We are not afraid! They should be the ones who are afraid! They will be the ones who scream and cry— not us, not us!’ 

He would not release his hold on the situation. He did not scrape by, lie, steal, and torture for his brilliance only to roll over and show his belly to you! The wounded part of him demanded action, demanded sacrifice for these feelings of apprehension you had caused him. 

The psychologist in him, the professional in him was almost impressed, nay, enthralled by your show of dominance. It was both vexing and amusing. It had crept under his skin and sunk its perfectly manicured claws into his chest, reaching in and commanding his heart to beat. 

His heart started to beat faster and his breaths became more and more shallow. 

It was dizzying, intoxicating— arousing even. 

The Scarecrow in him wanted to crush it— to squash you. 

But Jonathon wanted it to keep going— to consume him whole. 

Enjoying his responses so far, you gripped both armrests of his chair, locking him in place. 

“I want to conduct a little experiment of my own.” Your voice was still quiet, still assured. 

“And then you can tell me in real-time which is stronger: pleasure…” 

Releasing one hand from the armrest, you traced a red coffin-nailed finger down Jonathon’s chest, right down the middle of his tie. 

“...Or fear.” 

Feeling cornered by the weight of the unknown, the Scarecrow decided to make his move. 

“If you’re done with this little display here, I have other matters to attend to, much more important than contending with brainless whore students.” He sneered, hoping his icy tone would catch you off guard enough that he could casually push out from under your weight. 

His piercing blue eyes met your determined ones. It seemed you weren’t backing down. 

‘Fine then’, Jonathan thought. ‘If that’s how you wanted to play it’. 

His arm shot out past you, quickly gripping the handle of his briefcase. But before he could tug it open, you decided to play the last card up your sleeve. 

“Not so fast, Doctor,” you reprimanded as if speaking to a child. “It’s not time for that… yet.” 

Frozen, Jonathan’s previously confident eyes shifted into an expression between confusion and fear. Unable to even speak, he couldn't help but look back and forth between where his hand rested on his briefcase handle, and where your hand rested, gripping the barrel of a gun. 

“Pretty, isn’t it?” You asked, turning the gun sideways to show off the pearl handle. “My Father gifted it to me when I moved to Gotham for University. Of course, at the time, I thought it was such a silly gift. Just total overkill. And then, I came here,” you waved it around rather casually as you spoke, “And I met you.” 

You laughed, villainously at the memory, bearing your teeth and smiling wickedly at the dumbfounded teacher in front of you. 

“Can I just say? I had never once thought of putting a bullet through a teacher’s head before I met you. God! You were just so, so, infuriating!” You shook your head in amused disbelief. 

“And so arrogant! I mean the number of times you let out a little too much information, all just to insult a student’s inferior answer or to roast a fellow professor.” Your expression became incredulous. “Do you realize how much you told us, all because you thought we were too stupid to understand?!” 

You rhythmically pressed the gun up into his, teasingly punctuating every other word. 

“I mean, come on! Isn’t that Intro to Villany 101? Don’t spill the beans?” 

“You don’t know anything.” The bolder character inside of Professor Crane had found his voice. “You may think you do, but you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“I know enough,” you countered. 

“Not as far as the cops are concerned. Or the faculty board.” His self-assured tone rivaled yours. “Do you really think I don’t have men on the inside?” 

Having recaptured his certitude, The Scarecrow’s signature condescending expression settled back over his face as he craned his neck forward, bringing his mouth mere inches from your own. 

“The minute you tell anyone what you think you know, your life ends— effective immediately.” 

His bravado caused your large canine-baring grin to shrink into a much smaller, reserved one. If Johnathan’s words had scared you, you had no intention of making a big show of it. 

You leaned in, pushing your face close enough to his that you could feel his heated breath on your lips. 

“Guess it’s a good thing then, I don’t intend on telling anyone about this. And neither do you.” 

“Is that so?” The Scarecrow challenged. 

Without warning, you reached out with your free hand, gripping it securely around his throat, and forcibly tilted his head back. Using your newfound leverage you pushed your knee back against his crotch, smirking as you felt the unmistakable outline of his semi-hard cock through his clothes. 

Satisfied that the ball was back in your court, you menacingly lined up the nozzle of your gun with Dr. Crane’s deliciously exposed Adam’s apple. 

“Let’s find out.” 

♔☍☣ ♔☍☣♔☍☣ ♔☍☣

A/N 2.0: So originally I was gonna expand on the sex scene at the end (because of the whole Kinktober thing, duh!) but I ran out of time. Who knows? Maybe I’ll continue it one day if enough people would enjoy it??? Lmk 

[beyondthesefourwalls]

This Love Came Back to Me (1)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, allusions of smut and potential full smut, stalking, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part One Wordcount: 3.9K

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Bradley hadn’t noticed you at first, which wasn’t necessarily surprising. The Hard Deck was packed tonight, full of the regulars and those from the ship docked at port. He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you across the bar, but oh, it was definitely you alright. 

You had changed your hair since the last time he saw you, but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. They were what drew him to you in the first place. Even now, his heart fluttered in his chest when they looked at him.  

It had been seven months since your break up and the last time the two of you had spoken. You hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you ended before the two of you could even truly begin. The timing wasn’t right, with him being assigned to this special detachment and getting back to back deployments, while you were just starting a new job that kept you unbelievably busy. Your schedules rarely aligned and for the six months of your relationship, you spent more time apart than you did together, both of you struggling to communicate that you wanted to spend time together on the rare chance it was available. It was a mutual decision to let one another go, even if the deep connection you shared when you were together was better than either of you had ever experienced with other people. 

So seeing you now was a bit of a shock to him, but even more surprising was how you barely spared a moment after meeting his eyes before making your way toward him. You were moving with a purpose, weaving your way through the crowd of uniforms and civilians. 

“Hi,” you said as soon as you closed the distance between the two of you. You cut him off before he could respond with a greeting of his own. “I need a favor.” 

Bradley’s eyebrows raised, in surprise or disbelief, he wasn’t sure. You hadn’t spoken in months, and you were asking him for a favor? 

“It’s good to see you, too,” he responded with sarcasm dripping from his tongue. You rolled your eyes, glancing over your shoulder before turning back to him. He noticed for the first time the anxiety that was clearly written all over your face. He cataloged the tension in your shoulders and how you were snapping the hair tie you always kept around your wrist against your skin. It was a nervous tell of yours and even now, all this time later, he felt the urge to reach out to stop you.

“What do you need?” he asked instead. 

You took a deep breath, letting the words out quickly. “I need you to kiss me.” 

“Excuse me?” Bradley choked out a laugh of disbelief. 

You sighed heavily, opening your mouth to respond, when Bradley heard your name being called from a nasally voice near where you had been standing before. When he looked in that direction, he could see a man of minimal stature and build trying to shove his way through the same crowd you had just parted easily. 

“Bad date?” He asked, trying for humor to ease the tension he was starting to feel. Your face scrunched up like you were appalled at the thought and Bradley almost smiled at the look. Almost. 

“God no.”

Seeing you again was throwing him for a loop. That was enough to tell him that he shouldn’t get involved in whatever this is. But he had always had a soft spot when it comes to you, had thought of you often since you parted, and his instincts were telling him something was off. The urge to protect you was just as present now as it was before.

Bradley briefly flicked his eyes toward the man before looking back at you. He felt a twist in his gut at your discomfort. Despite knowing how this could blow up in his face and fuck with his emotions all at the same time, he found himself taking a step closer to you. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice lowered so that it was only for you. 

Your eyes closed when your name was called again, the voice slightly closer. You groaned as you opened them, your gaze pleading with him. “I’ll explain later. Please, just go with it? I really don’t want to go kiss a stranger instead.” 

He barely had time to nod before you were closing the remaining distance between your bodies, rising on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips against his. 

Wildly, his first thought was if you still favored the transfer proof lipstick or if you would be leaving a pink stain on his lips. 

His second thought, though, was, oh, fuck. 

Bradley’s hands fell naturally to your hips. He squeezed the flesh through the denim of your jeans as he returned the kiss. His mind fogged over with how good it felt to feel you against him like this again. It was like no time had passed at all as those same sparks he felt a year ago shot through him now. You gasped against his mouth and he wondered if maybe you felt the electricity too. 

Right when he was about to give in to his desire and deepen the kiss, he heard your name again, coming from directly behind you this time. You pulled away from him slowly, your breathing intermingling with his. When your eyes fluttered open, he was already looking at you. You were calmer than you had been when you first approached him, and there was an open look of wonder and something suspiciously like want as you gazed back at him. Your lips were slightly parted and he swallowed thickly. 

He wanted to kiss you again. Based on the look in your eyes now, he didn’t think you’d push him away. 

“Hey!” 

That same voice was sharper now. Bradley felt annoyance settle over him both at the tone he was using in your direction and the way he felt you tense up again before you turned to face the intrusion. 

“Paul,” you spoke, your voice flat. Bradley took the other man in now that he was closer. He found himself unimpressed at the wrinkled khakis and tucked-in flannel shirt covering his shorter frame, red hair laying flat on the top of his head. 

“I was calling for you.” 

His voice was grating like nails on a chalkboard. Despite how utterly un-intimidating he appeared to be, though, he was staring at you in a way that made Bradley’s spine straighten. 

“I must not have heard you.”

It was clearly a lie, and he had to fight from showing his surprise at how you weren’t even masking the obviousness of it. He squeezed your hip briefly in what he hoped was reassurance and let his hand rest there when he stepped beside you. You settled briefly back into his arm and he knew it was a silent sign of appreciation. He tried not to read too much into the fact that you needed no words to communicate that. 

“That’s okay,” Paul reassured you quickly with a too eager smile on his face. His eyes trailed up and down your body. It was almost like Bradley wasn’t even standing there.  “You look so pretty tonight.” 

You didn’t say anything, but Paul continued on without allowing you much time to respond anyway, “I want to buy you a drink. Come on.”

He stepped forward and extended his arm to reach for you. You angled your body away from him at the same time that Bradley wrapped his arm more securely around you. He cleared his throat loudly, drawing the other man’s attention away from you for a moment and halting his progress. Paul’s lip curled up in disgust when he noted his presence at your side. Instead of speaking to him, though, his blue eyes went back to you.

“Why were you kissing your friend?” There’s a certain emphasis on the last word that didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. Alarm bells started to ring in his head and though Bradley had told himself he would let you lead, when you started snapping the hair tie against your wrist again, he couldn’t stay quiet anymore. 

“I’m her boyfriend, actually. Who the hell are you?” 

The words came out before he could really register the implications of them, but to your credit, you don’t show surprise at them, either. Instead, you wrap your arm around him in return, your side melded into his. He moves the arm that was at your hip to wrap around your shoulder. 

Still, though, Paul doesn’t look at him. His nostrils flared and his fist curled at his side, but he never took his eyes off you. “You don’t have a boyfriend.” 

Bradley had never been so blatantly ignored in his life and this guy was really, really starting to piss him off. 

“That’s funny, because I’m standing right here. Bradley Bradshaw. Now I’ll ask again - who are you?” 

Paul finally met his eyes. If he wasn’t so tense, Bradley thinks he might have found some amusement in how the color drained from his face as he really looked at him for the first time. He gulped, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he searched for something to say. 

You sighed. It came out slightly shaky, and Bradley cataloged that as another mark against this guy. 

“This is Paul. We work together,” you explained. That’s an interesting development; you must put up with this everyday. Briefly, the thought of how he had no place in your life anymore to be as concerned as he was flashed through his mind. But you were the one that brought him into this, and it was too late to backtrack now.

Bradley hummed in response to your words as he contemplated how he wanted to play this. He wanted to tell the guy to back off and never speak to you again. Or put his fist in his very punchable face for how uncomfortable he made you. But he reeled himself in; he wouldn’t do that until after he heard the full story from you, if it was necessary. He knew for certain, though, that the first order of business needed to be to get you away from him in the here and now. 

“I actually already ordered us drinks, so you’ll have to excuse us.” Without another word,  Bradley turned the both of you away. With his arm still wrapped tightly around your shoulders, he guided you to the other side of the bar. Paul called your name one more time but it went ignored.��

“I’m so sorry,” you said, but Bradley shook his head as he kept walking steadily forward. 

“Will you let me buy you a drink?” he asked instead. 

“You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this.”

“Too late now, Bug.” The nickname slipped out before he could stop it. It was something he had called you since your second or third date, when a ladybug had landed on your nose and even after you had swatted it away, it kept coming back. He had laughed and said something about how maybe it was a sign you were a good luck charm, and how maybe it meant your relationship was lucky. It made his stomach twist thinking about how he had been wrong back then. 

He pushed forward before he could dwell on how much he hadn’t realized he missed saying it. “Please. Let me buy you a drink, at least until he leaves?”

You met his eyes and must have found what you’re looking for, because you slowly nodded your head. There were two open seats at the end of the bar - Bradley guided you to sit in the one that would allow him to be on the very end, angling himself toward you while your back was to the rest of the bar - Paul included. 

You must have ordered your drink before this all started, because Penny slid a glass that had already gathered some condensation in front of you along with a bottle of Bradley’s regular. He thanked her, requesting they both be put on his tab before she walked away. 

He watched you quietly for a moment as you took a sip. It was the first time he had really been able to take you in. There was stress written all over your face and tension in your shoulders. Your normally bright eyes were duller than he had ever seen them. Regardless of all of that, though, you were just as beautiful as he remembered; you were still you. 

“Are you alright?” he asked you gently. 

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him with a tight, small smile. He didn’t miss how you avoided answering if you were okay right now. “Bradley..I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” 

You stared at him in disbelief, but he did his best to keep his face steady and reassuring. After a moment, you sighed, and the look on your face settled into something more genuine. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed easily, a smile tugging at his lips, “it’s really good to see you, too.” 

He stared at you for a long moment and you stared right back. It had always been easy to get lost in your eyes and it seemed like that hadn’t changed with time. 

While he hadn’t seen you, he had thought about you more often than he would ever admit, even to himself. He had met you on a dating app. After weeks of one or two messages here or there with several different women, you were the first one he had a full conversation with after you messaged him with an absolutely god awful pilot joke that genuinely made him laugh. You had talked back and forth for a few weeks before he finally got the courage to ask you for drinks. The connection he had with you was instantaneous and special. He truly thought that if the timing and communication was better, you could have been the one. Instead, he had thought of you as the one that got away.

And now here you were, sitting right in front of him. When he had thought of running into you again, this wasn’t a scenario he had never considered. 

“Do you want to tell me what just happened?” he asked softly. 

The smile fell from your face and Bradley almost wished he wouldn’t have brought it up. You took another sip of your drink before setting it down on the bar and folding your hands in your lap. “Paul works in my department. He took a liking to me when he started a few months ago and has been very…persistent with it, lately.”

“How did he know where you'd be tonight?”

You sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Honestly? Not really sure. Maybe he heard me talking about it with one of my coworkers today? I think I may have mentioned it in passing at one point.”

Your words made him feel uneasy. You didn’t sound confident in the reasoning you gave; the red flags were blowing brightly right in front of him. But he could see how anxious you were getting, too, and decided to tread lightly. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” He asked, “No offense, but The Hard Deck isn’t really your scene.”

He had brought you here a handful of times when you dated, but had never entertained the thought of you coming here alone. For a brief moment, he feared you were actually supposed to be meeting another date here. 

“I was supposed to be getting drinks with a friend of mine and her new boyfriend to meet him, but they bailed. I didn’t see the text until I was already here,” you explained. The shot of jealousy that he had felt dissipated.

“Ah.”

“What about you?” you asked, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from the red headed problem in the room. He would let you, for now, simply because maybe it would mean extending the conversation for a little bit longer. He knew he was beginning the descent down a slippery slope. Truly, he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. 

A sudden look of horror crossed your face before he could answer your first question. “Oh my God. You aren’t meeting a girlfriend, are you? I just kissed you!”

He chuckled into his beer bottle, shaking his head as he took a sip. “I’m single.”

You sighed in relief. “That’s good. Glad I’m not an unintentional homewrecker.”

Bradley laughed again. He was pleased when, after a moment, you started giggling too. The sound had always made him feel a little warmer. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, contemplating his next question. He decided just to go for it; there was really nothing to lose at this point. 

“Are you?” 

You looked at him curiously and he cleared his throat, feeling a blush creep its way up his neck. “Single. Are you?” 

“Oh!” you exclaimed. You snapped your hair tie once before you answered. “Yes. Very.” 

He didn’t immediately know what he wanted to do with that information, but combined with the way you were looking at him, he knew that there were at least a few possibilities to consider. You must think the same because without further prompting, you were asking him what he’s been up to lately. 

He wasn’t sure exactly how much time passed as you caught up on your lives for the last seven months. His deployments had calmed down as he turned into being more of an instructor. Your work had gotten crazier. You swapped stories back and forth and it transitioned into discussing current events and the hobbies both of you had either let go or taken up. 

The bar became busier as the night got later and when the people behind you started to get a little rowdy, he pulled your bar stool closer to his. Your feet were hooked on the metal at the bottom of his chair between his spread legs and his hands rested on the outside of your thighs. Bradley could smell your perfume with how close you were. 

Buying you one drink turned into buying you two, and it was so nice, being here with you like this. 

“You’re staring at me,” you accused, smirking into your glass as you finished your second drink. 

“You’re nice to stare at,” he answered easily, not bothering to deny it. “I think you’ve gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you, Bug.” 

“I have not,” you laughed lightly and shook your head. But even as you disagreed with him, he could see the goosebumps break out on your skin. 

“You have,” he insisted. He reached up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and delighted in the way your eyes fluttered closed for a moment and your body shivered. Seeing that he could still cause these reactions in you sent a thrill through him that raised his body temperature. “You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the room in my eyes.” 

“Oh please. I’m sure there have been plenty of women prettier than me lately,” you rolled your eyes in that self-deprecating way you tended to do, but Bradley was shaking his head before you were even done speaking. 

“There hasn’t been anyone.” 

You froze, meeting his eyes from where you had let them fall to the ground. He didn’t flinch, needing you to see just how serious he was. Your lips parted in surprise, but you sucked in a breath and let your hand come up to play with the buttons on his Hawaiin shirt. 

“There hasn’t been anyone else for me, either,” you admitted quietly. 

His hands rubbed the denim that covered your thighs and he leaned forward on his stool. 

“Then why aren’t we still together, Bug?” 

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, releasing it quickly as your eyes flickered down to his lips before meeting his dark gaze again. “I’m really struggling to remember right n-” 

His lips were on yours before you could get all the words out. You gasped against his mouth and he took it for the opportunity it was to deepen the kiss. He groaned as his tongue tangled with yours. You tasted even better than he remembered. One hand trailed higher up your leg, his fingers hooking into one of your belt loops as he brought you even closer to him. You whimpered into the kiss and tightened your grip on his open shirt as you matched his pace just as perfectly as you always did. Breathing eventually became an issue and he pulled away from you slowly and reluctantly, pecking your lips twice more as he did. Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath. Your eyes were hooded and damn, he had missed you so much. 

He was about to lean in to kiss you again when he caught a flash of red and flannel in his peripheral vision. He scanned the thick crowd of people and it didn’t take long for his eyes to find Paul, hovering near the wall on the other side of the bar with a direct line of sight to where you were sitting. The almost possessive look on his face as he stared had Bradley tightening his grip on you, the same protective instinct from earlier washing over him. He had gotten so caught up in this reunion that he had almost forgotten the cause of it in the first place. 

He wasn’t looking at him for long before you cupped his cheek and brought his eyes back to yours. “Don’t worry about him.” 

Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed at how you didn’t seem overly surprised at the fact that your coworker was still there, and how you were speaking like it was a common occurrence to feel his beady little eyes on you. He wondered just how much more there was to your earlier story. He swallowed down the urge to ask you about it right now, but he couldn’t tamper the need to get you away from him, again. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. He moved first, and when you gracefully stood from your bar stool, he pulled your body flush against his, leaning down for another kiss. The tension that had reappeared in your shoulders slipped, and he vowed that he would do whatever he could to keep it that way, for as long as you let him.

“My car is in the parking lot,” you supplied, slightly breathless from the kiss.

“Will you let me follow you home?” he asked. You bit your lip, searching his face, before you nodded.

“I’d like that.” 

Bradley wrapped an arm around your shoulder after he threw down enough money on the bar to cover the tab and the tip. He placed a kiss to the top of your head as you made your way to the door. He looked over his shoulder as the two of you walked out, searching the room for the man that had put you both on edge, but he was nowhere to be found. 

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Part Two :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: This story was meant to live in the abyss of lost stories that is my Google Docs. It only exists because @mak-32 and @roosterforme never let me forget it. After literal months of not touching it, I finally picked it back up. Thank you both so much, and for dealing with all the freak outs I’ve had to get to this point (and will continue to have lol). And double thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

I really hope everyone enjoys this. It’s going to be a ride🖤 Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement.

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[ageingfangirl2]

Why Do You Trust Me? Buggy (OPLA)

y/n has been on Buggy's crew for over a year and he starts to question their loyalty. Buggy x Reader

Y/N

Since Captain Buggy had come back the tension on the ship and amongst the crew was at an all-time high. You'd been a part of the crew for over a year and hadn't actually been in the tent when Luffy and his new crew managed to best Buggy, because Buggy didn't have an act for you so you had to stay behind on the ship.

Buggy demanded loyalty from his crew. He was a dangerous man and feared pirate, so you were surprised at how easily he charmed you into joining his crew. he played on fears and insecurities, and gave you a chance to be better and to find a new family even if he called all of you freaks and outcasts. You'd been told by other crew members you would be tested by Buggy, but you'd yet to be tested and you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

You followed your clown captain blindly, you owed him your life since because of him you'd become a better person and a much stronger fighter.

You were on your way to another island to destroy and make them watch the best show on all the seas, and just when you thought you could rest for the night you made eye contact with Buggy across the deck who had an unreadable expression on his painted face. With a gloved hand, he beckons you to come with him before disappearing into the shadows.

You followed him beneath deck towards his private quarters where you laid eyes on his throne and to your surprise the wheel he attached people to and threw knives at them. He had more than enough practice so why was it in his quarters?

You bite your lip, 'is everything okay captain?'

He simply stares at you emotionless, and next thing you know a detached gloved hand is around your throat and pinning you to the wheel while you gasped for breath wide-eyed and in shock. With his other hand, he makes quick work of restraining your wrists and ankles.

'You're far too trusting y/n, do you have any idea how easily I could kill you?' his voice malicious and laugh terrifying.

He produces some knives almost out of thin air and stalks towards you, until you're face to face, his smirk reaching his eyes knowing at this moment you truly feared him, 'ANSWER ME Y/N!' he snaps.

You manage to keep eye contact and gulp nervously, 'of course, you tell me as much, quite often. I'm well aware of how dangerous you are.'

Buggy's eyes widen at your reply and he hums to himself for a second before bringing one of the knives up to the corner of your eye and dragging the blade down your cheek, applying enough pressure to cut your skin but not too deep, making you hiss in pain, '...then why stay? Why show such vulnerability, knowing what you know?'

After cutting your skin he brings the knife between the two of you so that you could see your blood on his weapon. You take a couple of deep breaths and let the stinging pain subside. Before joining the crew you were abused daily, an orphan of the street fighting to survive another day. As different and difficult as times this new life was you wouldn't go back to your old life.

You sigh, 'because no one has ever treated me with as much tenderness and respect as you do, and because I know you'll never intentionally harm me. Whether you like it or not, I trust you, captain, I trust you Buggy.'

Buggy drops his menacing facade and his face softens as he takes in your honest answer to his question. He might play on others' fears and insecurities but deep down he had his own and needed at times to show his dominance. But of course, neither you nor the rest of the crew would tell him this because you didn't know how he'd react.

He puts the knives down and helps you off the wheel, 'Looks like you passed my little test y/n. Here take this.'

You take the handkerchief he offers and press it to your bleeding face while he keeps his back turned to you, 'are you really okay captain? You've had it rougher than us these past weeks.'

Buggy spins back around to face you wearing a huge grin before he squeezes your unmarked cheek like you would a baby and coos, 'I'm touched you care about me y/n, this is why you're one of my favourites. Now let's celebrate my return.'

The rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning is a blur. Pirates would take any excuse to drink, and Buggy was keen to keep celebrating his return. You never knew what the next day would bring, but you were thrilled to pass the loyalty test because Buggy came up to you drunk and told you he'd found an act for you in his show. Now you felt like a true part of the crew.