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sugxto · 24 days ago

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crossed wires - eddie/volt/reader

⋆syn: You were unbelievably careless while the boys weren't looking, so Eddie and Volt take new measures to keep you in place.

⋆wc: 5.5k

⋆cw: m/m/afab threesome, dom/sub dynamics, erotic electrostimulation, cum eating, cum as lube, shibari (with wires, do not do that irl)

⋆notes: reader insert uses g/n pronouns and is not described with feminine attributes. AFAB genitalia, terms used include hole, entrance, cunt and clit. e/v masterlist.

⋆snippet:

It’s your own fault, really.

It’s for your own good, you think, despite how sorry you are, as Eddie masterfully weaves the wires around your arms, across your back, keeping your shoulder blades almost pressed together. You can feel the woven braids of the wires making marks into your skin, circling your forearms, your elbows, your biceps, immobilizing you more and more with every inch they climb. They’re warm, practically humming, and you wonder if Eddie is charging them somehow, consciously or not.

crossed wires

It’s your own fault, really.

Your face (your poor, sorry face, they’d called it) rests in Volt’s hands, his silver thumbs stroking your cheeks, and his lightning eyes keeping your gaze locked on. That was the other thing, too, you aren’t allowed to look away unless told, and Volt is enforcing that part.

“You’re doing so beautifully, little wire. So beautifully.” You know, despite the honey-sweet words, the tone of that voice. Volt is hungry, he’s famished, and he’s barely holding back. You imagine that, if Eddie wasn’t there, or if the circumstances of your situation were different, nothing would stop him from taking you that very moment. He licks his lips, and gives your cheek a little pinch, a little zap. “I can’t wait to see the marks on your skin when the wires come off. I’ll kiss every single one.”

Eddie scoffs. “And who says,” you feel him finish another knot, “we’re even going to take them off?”

Normally, you might give a little retort to that, a small challenge. But that is certainly not the case tonight.

“Nah,” he continues, his fingers grazing your biceps as he makes another loop, “I’m honestly not sure if they deserve that.”

You whimper, you can’t help it, though you know it’ll get you nowhere with them, and you press your folded legs together as tight as you can.

“Hm,” Volt muses, and you know he can see how you want to plead, beg, though it will fall on flat ears. You haven’t been gagged simply on the condition that you do not argue. So, you don’t. Volt smiles. “I suppose we’ll have to see how they fair tonight, then.”

You feel Eddie’s weight leave the mattress, hear him step onto the floor by the edge of the bed, and his hands run down your arms, your sensitive skin, and over the wiring that he wound to his touch. He makes a small sound, a hum, and says, “that should do.”

For the first time in minutes, Volt’s eyes dart away from your own, and he looks behind you to where Eddie stands, grinning like a cat. “Satisfied, then?”

Again, Eddie scoffs, and his voice is strained with barely suppressed frustration when he says, “I’ll be satisfied when I know they’re not going to be so careless when we aren’t around. Or at all. But,” he sighs, “this’ll work for now. Make fists for me.” You do, easily, and he makes a sound of approval.

Volt turns back to you, bright eyes practically flashing. “That’s what the lesson is for, right, live wire?”

You swallow, and nod. “Yes, Volt. And I’m sorry, Eddie, I am.”

Eddie doesn’t respond, just huffs a small breath. Volt makes a small pout, but his eyes glitter with devilry. “Oh, darling, we know you are.” Gently, he cups your chin, plants a small kiss to your forehead that sends tingles across your face. “But we have to keep you safe, don’t we?”

You nod. They do. You know they do.

“Good. Now,” Volt moves to stand, and slips off the bed to join Eddie, unseen behind your back. “Let’s have a look at what Eddie’s made for you.”

They’re out of your sight now, and you’re untouched for the first time in… you’re not even sure. You can feel both a white hot and a steel gaze roaming over your arms, your back, and your shiver at the charged air in the room.

“My, Eddie,” Volt sighs, his rich voice sending shockwaves straight to your clit, “absolutely stunning. Gorgeous, my darling.”

You hear Eddie hum, and then, the smack of lips, the wet slide of tongues, and little moans. God, you wish you could see - you can just imagine it, how Volt is probably holding Eddie’s neck, Eddie’s hands on Volt’s chest, melting together like they always do.

It stops a moment later, and Eddie’s voice is less rigid, less harsh, when he speaks again. “We should get going. We’re already late.”

Get going?

You turn your head only a little as you hear them round the bed, moving towards the door. It’s the first time you’ve seen Eddie’s face since he started working on the wires, and it’s no less gruff, his titanium eyes still filled with concern. He stops in front of you, crosses his arms, and you notice how his fingers dig into his biceps.

“We have to go to work,” he says. “And you are going to stay here until we’re done.”

Oh.

Volt must notice your eyes grow wide, how your mouth falls open only a hair, and adds, “One of us will check on you every half hour.”

“You are not to leave the bed.” Eddie’s tone leaves no room for argument. “I’ve been fucking gracious enough to leave your legs free, but do not abuse that. Or that will immediately change.”

When had they even discussed this?

“You can, of course, use your safe word at any check in.” Volt cocks an eyebrow. “Unless, you need to use it now. Do you, darling?”

You shake your head, shoving “fuse” to the back of your mind. You wanted this, needed this, despite how your heart was pounding at the prospect of being alone.

“Aloud, darling.”

“No, Volt.”

“Very good.” Volt turns, grabbing his coat, and shrugs it over his shoulders. “You’re going to do so well, darling, I know you are. You can show us that, can’t you?”

“I can, Volt,” you say, nodding again, and you turn to Eddie, his grey eyes boring into yours, and ask in your sweetest voice, “May I see them too?”

Eddie’s breath hitches, clearly not expecting such a question, and almost imperceptibly, his gaze softens the slightest bit. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, before saying, with a carefully chosen tone, “I… will show you when we get back. I’ll figure something out with the mirrors.” He raises a finger, and his brows as well. “If. If you’re good while we’re gone.”

You nod, agreeing, of course agreeing. Eddie makes art with his wires, but it’s a rare treat when he does something so intricate as what he seems to have made on your arms. Mostly, he uses them to tie you or Volt to the headboard, or to keep your wrists together while they take turns with your mouth. Once, you watched him bind Volt’s legs together, his hands working the wires with such a natural ease it was almost like they were part of him. Maybe they were, you weren’t really sure, but he controlled them like nothing you’d ever seen before. And not knowing what he’s created on your arms is making you ache.

Volt’s hand goes to touch on Eddie’s arm, a silent message shared between them, and Eddie sighs again. He steps forward, placing his hands on the mattress in front of you, and bringing his face only inches from yours. The concern is still etched all over him, but you see, deep in his eyes, the love that is at its heart.

“Spark,” he almost whispers, and it catches you off guard after such steel from him, “you did very, very good for me. For us. And you’re going to keep being good, right? You’re going to listen to me?”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie. I am.” You mean it, with every breath.

“Good.” He brings a hand up, finds your cheek, and his touch is electric, warming your skin, as he meets your lips for a kiss that sends a shiver down your spine.

When he parts, he rejoins Volt, slipping on his vest, as nonchalant as ever.

Volt is adjusting his cuffs when he asks, “Do you have a preference of who should check on you first?”

“No, Volt.”

“Alright.” He opens their bedroom door, finds the small of Eddie’s back with his hand, guiding him out. “We’ll be back in a tick. Be good, live wire.”

The door closes behind them, and it’s like you can finally exhale. You settle your weight on your legs, getting as comfortable as you can, and prepare to wait.

This really, honestly, had started innocently enough.

When you’d come to the Breaker Box this afternoon, you’d found it quiet, eerily so - no shuffling in the back room, no conversations across the bar. It was surprising, you thought, even though it was closed, and decided to investigate.

When you climbed the stairs, poked your head into the boys’ bedroom door, your heart just danced with love. They were napping, arm in arm, Volt’s hair a mess of sparks across the pillow, Eddie’s coils sprawled across Volt’s chest. They looked so soft, so peaceful - god, you loved them so much, it felt like a current that ran through your veins and straight to your heart.

You, of course, did not want to disturb such a charming sight, so you closed the door again and made your way to the backroom, the office, whatever it was, where Eddie kept the weekly to-do lists. You were here, you had nothing else planned, so you might as well earn your keep around the club.

You did some sweeping, some table wipedowns, a little stock check on the bottles. You noticed, though, that one of the backlights above the bottles of the very top shelf had gone out - that was one Volt’s biggest pet peeves, the shelves not looking sharp. It was a simple fix to avoid his annoyance, you thought.

But…

But, Eddie hated when you were on a ladder without them around. Just because a stupid floorboard made you fall, one time, now he always wanted to make sure you’re “not so careless” again. It was a safety issue, he’d said, and they just wanted to protect you.

You sighed, and thought of a moment, before deciding that, if you were quick, it wouldn’t be an issue. Neither of them would be the wiser.

That was easy enough to believe, as you retrieved the ladder, set it up, gave it a jiggle to make sure it was steady, and ascended with a new bulb. It was a little more complicated, however, trying to maneuver around the bottles and loosen the dead bulb atop the glass shelf. Even more complicated to reach even further than your arms really could to fully screw in the new one. You could hardly get it to stay, but it just wouldn’t twist, so you shifted your weight the ladder, giving your body one more push and -

The ladder wiggled, and your elbow whacked into a bottle.

Which knocked into another bottle, and another, and all three fell at once, crashing to the bar beneath you.

You could only stare at the carnage, the amber liquid seeping off the wood, the glass shards scattered across the floor, because you knew, you had well and truly fucked up.

Faster than lightning, they were there, half dressed, breathing fast, and sparks crackling in Volt’s hands.

“Live wire?” Volt said first, his white eyes wide at the sight before them, and the sparks dissipated. His cheeks were almost blue - his skin tended to do that when he was angry. “What -”

“I’m sorry!” This was your mess, there was no use denying it, and you started to step down the ladder. “I was trying to change a bulb, and -”

“Spark, stop.” Eddie said, his tone harsh, clipped. “Let us get on some shoes, and we’ll get you down.”

“It’s fine, Eddie, I can step around -”

“I said stop.” His eyebrows quirked up, like a challenge. “You’re not stepping on glass, alright?”

So you did. They quickly found their boots, and Volt was the one who picked you up off the ladder and hoisted you to sit on the bar. Eddie came back with a pair of brooms, and let them rest against the bar as he came over to join you.

“Darling, what happened?” Volt asked, tipping your chin up to meet your eyes, and you felt tears start to prickle. “We didn’t even know you were here. We thought -”

“I know. I know, but you two were napping, and I just wanted to help! I -”

Volt shushed you, softly, calming how quickly your words were tumbling out. “It’s alright, it’s alright, darling.” He picked up your hands, inspected them for cuts. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, inhaled a steady breath. “No, I’m okay. I just knocked the bottles over, they didn’t hit me.”

“Good. Good,” Volt said, relieved, and he turned his head to Eddie, casting him a look you couldn't quite make out.

You finally turned your own gaze to meet his steel eyes, and nearly gasped at how he was looking at you. His glare was harsh, concerned, maybe even... disappointed?

His voice was low, brisk, when he spoke. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You knew it was coming, but it still stung. “I’m sorry, Eddie, I -”

“What if you had fallen into the shelves?” He gripped the wood of the bar, his knuckles white. “Fallen through the fucking glass? Or tripped, and hit your head on the bar coming down? We were right upstairs, and yet you -” he set his jaw, took in a breath. “You have to be careful. You have to let us help you.”

You nodded, and felt a tear slip down your cheek. “I know. I do,” you said through a shaky breath, and you were vaguely aware of Volt’s hand on your thigh. “I did it knowing I shouldn’t have, I know you hate it, and I’m sorry.” You turned your eyes back to Volt, whose eyes were a bit more sympathetic. “I just wanted to help.”

Volt and Eddie glanced at each other, one of their silent conversations occurring over a split second, and Eddie ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “We know, darling,” Volt said, turning back to you and squeezing your thigh. “But that doesn’t mean you can disregard your safety for something so unimportant as a lightbulb.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, and you bit your bottom lip when you nodded. “I fucked up. I’m sorry, Eddie, Volt, I am.”

Volt took your hands in his, the smallest sparks under your skin blooming at his touch. “The important thing is that you’re alright. I’m going to take you upstairs, make sure nothing is going unseen. Eddie will clean up here and join us in a bit.”

You knew what that probably meant. You quickly glanced at Eddie, and asked, quietly, “Am I going to be punished?”

Eddie’s brows shot up, and he made a sound like a laugh caught in his throat. “Don’t you think you need to be?”

Your hands shook as a shiver ran down your spine, your arms, your thighs. You had disobeyed a rule, tried to quietly get around them while they slept, while you knew it was wrong. “I do,” you admitted, and held tight to Volt’s hands.

Eddie nodded, his lips tight. “Good.” He cocked his head towards the stairs, muttering to Volt as he grabbed a broom, “Take them up, then.”

A knock at the door brings you out of your thoughts, and you blink to see Volt step into the bedroom, his gaze soft, adoring, as he settles next to you.

“Our darling,” he soothes, running a hand across your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

You breathe in, taking stock of the feelings in your body. A dull ache in your shoulders, some tingles in your feet from your whole weight pressing atop them. “I’m okay,” you say, exhaling. “I feel okay.”

“Good. How about some water, hm?” He stands, bringing a glass from the bedside table and settling it to your lips. You tip your chin up, open your lips to accept it, and take two hearty gulps before he removes the glass. He swipes a thumb over the corner of your lips to remove an errant drop. “Very good, darling.”

You study him, his stance casual, a deep contrast to Eddie’s rigidity in his anger. To Volt, it seems like it might just be any other night.

Cautiously, you ask, “Are you mad at me too?”

Volt’s brows furrow, and his eyes flash with something curious, maybe even sad. He joins you again on the bed with a sigh. “Neither Eddie nor I are mad at you, spark. We’re disappointed that you knowingly went behind our backs to do something dangerous, when we only want to protect you. Eddie, especially, because he’s had to catch you before, and wasn’t able to this time. ”

You know in your heart that’s all true, and if you had the option to go back and make a different choice, you would. But now, you know you need to sit with the actions you took.

Volt continues, “I know our Eddie isn’t the most�� articulate man in this house.” He smiles sweetly, his eyes full of love. “But you know how hard he would fight for you, for me, for us, if it meant keeping us safe, don’t you?”

You nod, because you do - you knew from the moment you found the two of them in the backroom, struggling to combat the faulty wire, that they would do anything for each other. And now, for you, too.

Volt kisses your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. “You really are doing beautifully, darling. Eddie will be up soon, alright?”

You say your goodbyes, and he slips down the stairs again, blowing you a kiss as he shuts the door.

You make a move to readjust your legs, bringing them in front of you criss-crossed, and wait.

You focus on the music that hums through the floor, thinking it sounds like Keyes - sultry, winding notes that soothe your thoughts. There’s applause every few minutes, and mumblings that you know must be Volt at the microphone. The unmistakable sound of Johnny starts, and you crack a smile, knowing what Volt’s face must look like.

The door opening again snaps you out of the music, and Eddie steps in, steel eyes immediately focusing on your face.

Your heart rate ticks a beat faster as he rounds the bed in slow, careful steps, eyeing you even as he steps out of sight and inspects your bound arms. You gasp when his hand grazes your shoulder above the wires, testing the tension.

“Make fists for me,” he says, voice calm, but you can tell that something else is bubbling under the surface. You do, and wiggle your fingers, and he hums his approval. “Good. How do your arms feel, any numbness?”

“No, no Eddie,” you say, but your mouth is suddenly dry. Why are you so worried? You’re being good, you’ve barely moved, you’re not speaking unless spoken to. You’re doing everything right. “They feel perfect.”

He comes back into your view, and he sighs when he sits down. His eyes flit across your face, search your eyes, as he asks, “Why didn’t you wake us up to help you?”

Because you’re stubborn, and you’re still not used to being told what to do. You’ve climbed plenty of ladders, changed plenty of lightbulbs, you could do it. But it’s more than that, you think, and you shake your head as you say, “I didn’t want to bother you. I could do it, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Eddie’s brows are scrunched together, his eyes reflecting something like hurt, and it surprises you when his hands come to rest around your neck. “Live wire,” he holds you tightly, making sure your eyes don’t leave his, “you are not a fucking bother. You are ours. You are the fucking current that flows inside us, what keeps us powered - you are as much a part of me as Volt.” You know he sees the tears that brim at the edge of your eyes, but he persists. “And I cannot fucking stand the idea of you getting hurt. Do you understand that?”

You nod, knocking a tear loose, and a lump forms in your throat. “I do, E-Eddie.”

“Then I never want to hear you say, even think, that you could ever be a bother to us, ever.” Eddie’s eyes are dark, titanium and strong, and you know he doesn’t want to repeat himself down the line.

You know it’s easier said than done, but you know you’ll try. Because you know they love you, want ever part of you, and they’d do anything you ever asked of them. So, you’ll try.

You swallow down the lump, and whisper, “I’ll try, I promise I will.”

Eddie’s face relaxes, and he brings his lips to yours, kissing you reverently, deeply, and you know he believes you. That’s all you can ask for.

He pulls away, and whispers into your lips, “I love you, live wire.”

“I love you, Eddie.”

You sit together, quietly, before applause through the floorboards brings him back to attention.

“Do you need anything before I go?” he asks, and when you shake your head, he sighs in relief. “Alright. Volt will be up soon. It’s quiet tonight, so we’ll wrap up as quick as we can, okay?”

When he leaves, your heart feels lighter than it has since you ascended the ladder, and instead of anxious expectation at the door opening again, you’re excited, knowing that they’ll be back, here, together, so soon.

Volt does come, not long after, and gives you another sip of water and a kiss to the head. “Luke and Cam are the only ones left,” he tells you, “Eddie’s given them a last call, but they’ll be gone soon.” He smiles, that same excitement in your heart mirrored on his lips. “And then you can see what Eddie’s made for you, alright?”

Your body hums in anticipation when he shuts the door behind him. You try to imagine what the wires that bind you look like, if it’s reminiscent of the winging knots that adorned Volt’s legs once, or if it’s like a ladder that climbs from your wrists to your shoulders. You give your arms a small tug, testing the design, but it doesn’t yield much information, just makes your skin hum from the face that you’ve been immobilized by someone you love, someone you trust. You sigh, and close your eyes, and wait.

You hear them on the stairs after minutes of silence downstairs, and your breath hitches. Volt comes in first, Edie behind him. They’ve already shed their coats, their vests, and they both toss them on a nearby table before stopping at the end of the bed. They’re quiet, studying you, Volt’s hands in his pockets and Eddie’s arms crossed. Both of them are more relaxed, less stiff, than when they left, and your heart sighs in relief at that.

Eddie clears his throat, and he raises a brow. “Would you like to see them?”

“Yes,” you nearly moan, and you sit up, chest bright. “Please, Eddie, can I?”

“Yes, you can. Volt, grab your hand mirror, yeah?” he says, and there’s a small spark of amusement in his eyes as he comes to your side. “Uncross your legs, I’ll help you up, alright?” And he does, holding your arms when you find yourself unsteady on your legs, gone unused for hours, and leads you to their bathroom vanity, turning you just so. Volt appears, hands Eddie a small black mirror, and he brings it in front of your eye, fiddling with the angle until, finally, you can see them.

It’s not a ladder that climbs up your back, but diamonds, smaller at the bottom that grow in sizes as they ascend, beautiful knots connecting them to the binds on your arms. He used red wire, you notice, and you’ve never really realized how gorgeous the color looks against your skin. It’s intricately, lovingly created, and it makes your heart swell.

“Eddie,” you breathe, your voice quiet, awed, “Volt’s right, it’s stunning.” You can’t take your eyes off them, but a small part of your brain is imagining what the marks will look like when the wires are removed, how their lips will feel on the raw skin. You look at Eddie, his eyes brimming with pride, and smile. “Thank you. Thank you, Eddie.” You glance at Volt, leaning against the door frame, find his gaze full of devotion. “Thank you both, for taking care of me, for keeping me safe. I love you, I love you both so much.”

They’re on you in a flash, their hands stroking your face, your arms, lips pressed to your neck, ears, lips. It’s overwhelming, it’s unbearable, it’s exactly what you need.

You’re back to sitting on the bed, Volt at your side, kissing your neck, and Eddie holding your face as he stands in front of you. “You’ve been very good for us, spark. Taking your punishment in stride, and I’m really proud of you. So, I’m giving you a choice. Do you want me to take the wires off, or, do you want us to take you with them on?”

Sweet amp, how lucky you were.

“On,” you say without a moment’s hesitation. “Please.”

Eddie’s eyes darken, and the corner of his mouth turns up. Volt chuckles against your neck, and you feel his teeth graze your skin. “Well,” you hear him say, his mouth dragging up to your ear. “Just because you said please.”

Volt wraps an arm around you, drags you up to the pillows, and he leans back on them, opening his legs to slot you between them, pressing your bound back to his chest. His electric hands run up your naked torso, stopping to pinch your nipples, and he revels at your gasp. Eddie climbs between you and places his hands on your thighs, spreading them open, and your hiss as the cold air hits your clit.

“Hold still,” he says, the concerned tone in his voice gone, replaced with wanton need. Volt hoists you up more, off the bed, and you watch Eddie’s hand disappear beneath you, and you feel his fingers graze your skin as he undoes Volt’s zipper and drags the fabric down. Volt’s cock springs out, smacks the skin of your ass, and you whimper, your hole clenching involuntarily.

Eddie stares at where you and Volt’s bodies touch as Volt adjusts his hips, his cock coming to rest at your waiting cunt, and Eddie licks his lips. He runs his hands across the insides of your thighs, and you fight the tremor the touch wants to elicit, and then, gingerly, he finds your folds, opens you up to find your clit, sensitive, needy.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he groans, and when he runs your thumb over your clit, you want to buck your hips into him, but you can’t - you’re too bound. You are completely, devastatingly, at their mercy. He teases your entrance, and curses again at how wet you already are, and he wraps a hand around Volt, guiding him inside you.

Your mouth falls open, and you cry out - maybe their names, maybe a curse, you’re not sure - and Volt’s tongue is on your neck, his hands sending zaps to your nipples. The pace Eddie sets is torturously slow, but his thumb circles your clit at every centimeter of length he adds, and already you’re not sure how long you’re going to last. When finally, finally, he bottoms out, you try to arch you back, but again, you simply can’t.

Volt groans in your ear, gives a tentative rock of his hips and makes you moan. “Mmm, little spark, I quite like you like this.” His voice is mean, teasing, and you feel it ghost across your skin. He rocks again, harder, and you squeeze your eyes shut. “Perfectly wrapped up for us to use.”

Something warm finds your clit at the next thrust, and your eyes fly open, only to find Eddie between your legs, his mouth enveloping your folds like a man starved.

You think, as your body shakes, you’d be more than happy to die like this.

The fullness of Volt’s brutal pace inside you and Eddie’s languid tongue are making your brain short circuit, overwhelmed by the warmth, the stretch, the way the spring inside you is coiling tighter with every passing second. Eddie hums into you, and every few moments, you hear Volt hiss in your ear, and you guess that a flick of Eddie’s tongue found his cock as it pulled out of you.

It’s too much, it’s all you ever wanted, it’s overpowering, it’s -

You cry out, unable to stop the power of your orgasm and it surges up unexpectedly, a wave of pleasure that makes your legs shake and your throat raw. Warmth floods your body, from your bound fingers to your toes, and you barely register that Volt has followed you over the edge, filling your cunt with his release with a bite to your neck.

A moment later, he slips out of you, and you feel tears start to form when Eddie’s tongue dips further down, slow over your hole, and he licks up what drips out of you like he was made for you.

Eventually, you hear his voice again, and through blurred eyes, you make out his face by your thighs. “Now,” he says, and you think he sounds hungry, but how can that be right, when he’s just eaten away at all your resolve? “I’ll ask again, do you want to keep them on?”

You nod, but a zap to your neck makes you focus on Volt’s haggard voice in your ear. “Aloud.”

“Y-yes. On.” The effort to speak is heavy, and you can barely keep your eyes open. “Please.”

Eddie needs no further permission, and you hear fabric rustle, feel hands on your thighs, and then, once again, you’re being filled, and it’s warm and full and perfect.

Eddie’s cock slides in with quick ease, aided by Volt’s cum still inside you, and you clench around him as he thrusts, each time deeper than the last, and, not for the first time, you wonder if he’ll split your body in two with his power.

Volt’s hands are around your neck, and you revel in it, being pinned to them, letting them use you, hold you, fill you. It’s here, between them, that you feel most complete, like finally, the puzzle pieces of your life slot together.

The hours of knowing you were waiting, helplessly, mercilessly, on their bed, means that Eddie knows he’s not going to last long, so he savors every moan, every breath that falls from your lips as he rocks inside you. You feel perfect, like you were made just for them, almost as if he made you himself.

All too soon, he feels his climax build, and his fingers dig into your thighs, maybe harder than he intends. You pay it no mind, the pain a sickening sweet addition to the buzz of your body, and your heart nearly combusts when you hear Eddie’s groan, feel his cum inside you mixing with Volt’s, and you are liquid, bodiless, as he pulls himself out of you.

The next thing you’re aware of, when you blink your eyes open, is you on your stomach, your body heavy, and deft hands tugging at the wires on your arms. You find, for the first time in hours, that you can move your wrists, and you sigh, the relief of movement flooding your brain.

A honeyed voice makes a small hum above you, noticing your deep breath. “There they are.” Volt’s hand runs across your shoulder. “Our beautiful wire. We’re almost done, alright?”

You, in turn, also make a small hum, and close your eyes again. Slowly, the wires are removed, and your arms tingle as new blood rushes to fill them. You feel lips, a set on each arm, pepper kisses to the indentations, and after a few minutes, you’re being rolled onto your back, Volt and Eddie beaming down at you like you’ve just hung the moon.

“Fucks sake, whatever the hell we did to deserve you,” Eddie says as he pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm, “I’d do it a thousbad times over.”

You smile, or at least you think you smile, basking in the light of white and steel eyes. “I love you two.”

You sleep between them, floating off to electric and warm kisses to your arms, soft kisses, greedy kisses, and you know there isn’t any place you could be safer.

#date everything #date everything smut #date everything x reader #eddie and volt #volt date everything #eddie and volt x reader #eddie date everything #eddie x volt x reader #breaker box boys

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selenepsyche · 1 month ago

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Placements That Could Indicate Being "Walking Karma"

Pluto in the 1st House

People with their Pluto in the 1st house have a powerful, intimidating energy that's hard to ignore. Their mere presence evokes strong reactions that makes people obsess, fear, admire, or be unsettled by them. These folks have the ability to mirror what other people have buried. They have the ability to reveal our insecurities or inner demons. They catalyze deep change in anyone they meet.

Scorpio Stellium

As a fellow Scorpio stellium, I just have to say that we are fucking iconic and powerful. Scorpio is the sign of death, rebirth, transformation, and karma. Having a Scorpio stellium makes this energy even more intense, especially if it's in the 1st, 4th, 7th, 8th, 10th, or 11th houses. Our presence pulls others into shadow work, which includes exposing betrayals, helping others heal traumas, or unveiling wolfs in sheep's clothing. Every encounter with a Scorpio stellium feels intense because we strip off the mask and reveal the raw truth. People either use this encounter to evolve, or continue running from their problems.

Saturn conjunct the Ascendant or Sun

Saturn is the planet of karma, restriction, and soul lessons. When conjunct the Ascendant, your presence and interactions with others could be karmic or force people to hold themselves accountable in certain situations. When it's conjunct the Sun, your identity could become the source of karmic pressure, on yourself and others. You could be seen as serious, disciplined, and authoritative. Not only will you experience important lessons throughout your life, but the people who come into contact with you will too.

Venus or Mars conjunct Pluto

These aspects could bring karmic energy when it comes to love and relationships. Relationships could bring control issues, obsession, or extreme emotions. You could attract partners that are meant to go through changes with you.

12th House Stellium

Since the 12th house is associated with past lives, people with multiple planets here tend to absorb the emotional and spiritual energy of others without realizing it. You could meet people that feel familiar to you, even though you've never met them, indicating that they could be someone you knew in a past life. You could also end up being involved in situations where you serve as a mirror to others for deep, unresolved issues.

North Node in the 8th or 12th House

These North Node placements could indicate a life path that will be tied to intense transformation and spiritual evolution. You could be placed in others' lives to help them confront things they may be afraid, be more vulnerable, or ease them through changes within their life.

Vertex in the 7th or 8th House

The Vertex is a point in the chart where fated situations and connections will happen. In the 7th or 8th house, it points to powerful, life-changing relationships. You will often meet others that you were destined to meet and it may be karmic. These will sometimes bring painful lessons, spiritual awakenings, or major emotional growth.

Pluto, Saturn, or South Node in the 7th House

With these planets and the south node in the 7th house, you could feel challenged, emotionally tested, or change through your relationships. You may deal with difficult endings and past-life ties to either people or situations you dealt with. You could serve as a karmic teacher to others, as they could to you.

Moon square or conjunct Saturn

If you have these aspects, others could feel exposed or judged by your presence. You could come off as emotionally distant or serious, which forces people to reflect on their own emotional maturity.

Thank you all for reading this! If you have any further questions, feel free to comment them down below!

dividers: @thecutestgrotto gifs and pictures: @thegreatestunknown & @ang3larchive

#astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #astro notes #birth chart #astro community #astrology indicators #saturn astrology #scorpio stellium #scorpio astrology #saturn #12th house #12th house stellium #north node astrology #vertex astrology #past life astrology

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 10 months ago

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Pt.3 SILLLY LITTLE BAT.

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ There are only memories, fragments of a past that, like shadows, will haunt you until your last breath, whispers of what was and will never be. Gotham cries out for a guardian, a soul to face the darkness, to challenge fate in its shadowy alleys.

But tell me, who will rise to protect you, traveler of scars and broken dreams? Who will watch over your light when the world swallows your hopes?

In the eternal night, amidst the echo of fear and longing, there is only one path: to confront the monsters and become the hero this city needs, even if the price is the forgetting of oneself.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, Religion, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Street Fights, Gaslight, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation.

Chapter guide! Pt.1 Pt2. Pt.4

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is— Here is the continuation of the other parts. There will be a few more parts but you should know that we will soon reach the end, but there are still things to clarify and so on. I don't know if you would like me to do another Batfam yandere series in the future or similar. Send me your ideas if you want :3

They are upset because I left

Where they never included me.

The car moved slowly under the gray sky of Gotham, as if the universe itself understood the weight of the pain you carried in your small figure. Commissioner Gordon, with his firm hands on the wheel, cast furtive glances at the rearview mirror, where he saw you curled up in the back seat. Wrapped in an old blanket, the same one you had hugged for days, your face was hidden among the folds, but the silent tears that fell could not be disguised. There were no words that Gordon could offer to heal the recent wound of losing your mother, but his empathy, though silent, was there, wrapping around you like the coat that couldn't quite warm you.

In your lap, a small Batman doll rested, pressed against your chest, as if that fabric toy could protect you from the world that had just destroyed your innocence. Your eyes, still swollen and red, looked out the window without seeing, watching the city that seemed so distant, so foreign.

"You will be loved and cherished," Gordon whispered, breaking the silence that had weighed like fog in the car. "Bruce Wayne... he will take care of you, I promise."

But you didn't respond immediately. The name Wayne felt strange, distant, as if he spoke of someone living in a story, not in your reality. You looked up, your eyes meeting Gordon’s for a second in the rearview mirror.

"And if they don't want me...?" you murmured, insecurity clouding your childish voice. "I don't know them, Commissioner... and they don't know me. What if they leave me in an orphanage? Mama always told me those places aren't nice."

Gordon swallowed hard, understanding the depth of your fear. "You were just a child, but you had already learned that love was not a guarantee." The world had taught you that cruel lesson too soon.

"The Waynes..." he began, searching for the right words, "are good people. You might not understand it at first, but I assure you they have suffered too. Bruce..." he paused, recalling the losses that man had faced. "He understands what it is to lose someone. He will do everything he can to make you feel safe, to help you find a home again."

But you kept looking at the doll in your hands, your fingers squeezing it tightly, as if it were the only stable thing in a world crumbling around you.

The silence grew heavy, uncomfortable, as if the words wanted to come out but didn’t know how. Again, Gordon spoke, his voice low, almost afraid to break the stillness.

"And/y/n... what was your mom like?" he asked softly, not taking his eyes off the road, as if by doing so, he could give you space to be honest, to not feel pressured.

You fell silent for a long moment, your small fingers nervously playing with the edges of the blanket. The world outside the car seemed a reflection of what you felt inside: cloudy, cold, distant.

Finally, you exhaled, as if gathering the courage to speak. Your voice came out shaky at first, filled with a mix of sadness and a hard-to-accept truth.

"My mom..." you murmured, not taking your eyes off the window. "She wasn't a good person, but... she wasn't a villain either."

Gordon nodded slowly, without interrupting you. He knew things were rarely black or white, that life had that cruel ability to mix the two.

"She... told me she grew up in an orphanage. She never had anything that was really hers." You paused, your eyes glassy as you recalled details that now seemed more painful than ever. "Well, except for me."

"Gordon felt a knot form in his throat." He knew that loss was a terrible burden to bear, but there was something more in your words, something suggesting that, amidst it all, there had also been love. An imperfect love, but real.

"She always dreamed of having a little house..." you continued, and for the first time, a faint smile appeared on your face, though it was tinged with melancholy. "A house with a garden, lots of Barbie dolls, and a little dog. She didn't need more. She just wanted something that was hers."

You stopped for a moment, as if the simple act of recalling those dreams your mother had hurt you. You knew she would never have them. That the world had been cruel to her, denying her even the small things she wished for so fervently.

"But... she never got it. We were always moving around, fleeing, searching for something better. And now... she doesn’t even have that."

The car seemed to shrink, the air denser. Gordon felt a wave of compassion for that woman who, though perhaps not perfect, had dreamed of something so simple, so human, and yet had not achieved it.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," he murmured.

"Commissioner, what if... what if I can't forget her?" you asked, almost in a whisper. "What if I can't stop thinking about Mom?"

The silence in the car became heavy, almost tangible. Gordon wanted to tell you that you didn't have to forget, that it was natural to carry that pain. But the words didn't come, and instead, only a long sigh escaped his lips.

"It's not about forgetting, Y/n," he finally said, his voice low but firm. "It's about moving forward, even though it hurts. Your mother would want you to find happiness again, even though it may not seem possible now. And I’m sure Bruce will do everything in his power to help you."

The car turned onto the long, dark road leading to Wayne Manor. The trees formed a tunnel of shadows, as if the road were wrapped in the same mourning you carried within. The mansion, with its imposing grandeur, appeared in the distance, its walls as high as the secrets it held. "You were so small in the face of the immensity of this new life that awaited you."

"We're almost there," Gordon said softly, as he slowed down. "The wind outside whispered through the trees, like an echo of everything you had lost."

You didn’t know it at that moment, but that house would be full of stories, some broken, others in the process of healing. And although you felt like a stranger in a strange land now, Gordon hoped that, one day, that place would become your refuge.

The car stopped in front of the enormous gates. Gordon looked at you one last time before getting out. In his eyes, you could see a mix of sadness and hope, an empathy that went beyond words.

"You are not alone, Y/n," he said, his voice now firmer. "You will never be alone again."

You remained silent, gazing at the mansion as you clung to the blanket and the Batman doll. The weight of the world still rested on your small shoulders, but for the first time, there might have been a glimmer of relief in knowing that someone, even if he was a strange and distant man, was waiting for you inside."

And in that moment, although you still felt the burning pain of your loss, a ray of hope began to break through the shadows of your heart.

Y/n was sitting in the BatCafé, that corner of the city where the tables wobbled and conversations were woven into murmurs, as if the place knew how to keep secrets that even you wouldn’t dare to share aloud. The walls, a mossy green, were filled with stories that no one had asked for. She looked at her lukewarm latte as one looks at a future that hasn’t quite arrived, a liquid mockery evaporating before it could warm her hands. It had barely been a month since she left her family home, but she already felt that independence was more of a myth than a fulfilled dream. At first, the heroism of having thrown herself into the world had filled her with pride, but now reality lurked like a treacherous chill seeping through the cracks, and the fact that she was waiting for her potential roommate didn’t help matters.

“Well, at least the rent will be cheaper,” she told herself, or rather to the coffee, as if the dark liquid could reply with something sensible.

Sharing an apartment was, for Y/n, the only way out. Her salary barely covered survival, but only if she fed on fresh air and broken dreams. And there she was, waiting for someone named Pamela Isley, who, according to the ad, didn’t even seem to be from this planet. "I hope she’s not one of those people with invisible cats," she thought. Of course, the alternatives weren’t very promising: people who collected Batman figurines or guys who made friends with cockroaches in the kitchen. She had seen it all; after all, her apartment was in one of the most dangerous areas of Gotham, and she knew it all too well.

You were born in that area. One could say the neighborhood chose you before you had a chance to choose it. You didn’t remember exactly which apartment; in that hive of broken windows and half-painted bricks, all the floors seemed like a blurry copy of the previous one, each with the same square footage and an air of silent resignation. In the end, it didn’t matter, because in a way, everything was the same. Dust in the corners, worn tiles, cracks in the walls that seemed to form a map of some invisible and secret city, a place that only you could decipher if you stopped to observe long enough.

It was an unpretentious place, where people rarely smiled, but neither did they let themselves be trampled. There was something in the air, a kind of poorly disguised pride, as if every neighbor, every stray dog, knew that surviving there wasn’t a matter of luck but of will. Heroes didn’t exist in that corner of the world, but villains didn’t dare impose their law without facing some gaze that, without saying anything, said it all. It was rough terrain, where kindness camouflaged behind growls and complaints, and malice grew tired before it could fully settle.

And yet, you loved it. It was absurd, but you loved it with that devotion reserved for things you don’t choose, for roots that sink into your chest without asking for permission. The place was filled with memories you didn’t ask for, stories you never wanted to hear but that seeped into your skin. Tales of people who vanished in alleyways, of broken promises around the corner, of loves that drowned in factory smoke. And yet, those same tales were like echoes that held you, reminding you that you were born there, in that half-hell where life was always a fight but never a complete defeat.

The clock in the BatCafé struck six ten when the door opened. What happened next was hard to explain, like when you dream and you don’t know if it’s the pillow or the universe holding you. Pamela Isley walked in, and it was as if the wind, that autumn wind that brings memories, had gently pushed her in. Y/n looked up, and the first thing she noticed was her hair, a red that was out of this world, more fire than pigment, more nature than dye. The roots tangled as if they were living branches, and for a moment, Y/n wondered if the sun had made a mistake and was shining only on her.

Pamela walked as if she had a pact with the earth. Her steps were slow but firm, as if her feet waited for the ground to respond before settling. She wore a jacket that was impossible to describe without sounding crazy: green vines and small buds peeking out, as if at any moment the plants would grow over her. "Where does this woman come from?" Y/n thought, feeling something beyond mere curiosity. There was something she couldn’t deny, an attraction that felt unsettling, like those waves that, without warning, sweep you away when you think you can still touch the bottom.

Pamela approached the table with a calculated calm, a calm only nature or time can sculpt. And then she smiled. In that smile, Y/n felt something familiar yet strange, as if she were facing a younger version of her mother, but instead of being terrifying, it was comforting. What was happening?

“Y/n L/n?” Pamela said, her voice reminiscent of the whisper of dry leaves underfoot.

“Yes, that’s me,” Y/n answered, trying to make her voice sound normal, even though everything inside her felt out of place.

Pamela sat down across from her, crossing her legs with an almost feline elegance. The BatCafé seemed to conspire around them; the air smelled of wet earth and freshly brewed coffee, a strange mix, like the combination of what was about to be born and what had already died.

“I didn’t expect you to be…” Y/n began, not knowing exactly how to finish the sentence. She wasn’t even sure what she was expecting.

“Strange?” Pamela completed, with a playful smile that left Y/n with a sense of defeat and fascination in equal parts.

“Something like that,” Y/n replied, looking at Pamela’s hands. Her long, slender fingers were covered in small green spots, as if she had just planted a forest with her own hands. There was something almost magical about her, as if every part of her being was connected to the earth in a way that Y/n couldn’t quite understand. And there, amid that confusion, was the fine thread of attraction.

Pamela let her gaze fall on her own latte, turning it between her hands as if it were about to reveal some hidden secret in the foam.

“So, what do you do? I mean… aside from, you know… looking like you walked out of a Tim Burton movie,” Y/n said, attempting a bit of humor to ease the tension she felt in her stomach.

Pamela glanced at her and laughed softly, a laugh that felt like an unexpected breeze on a hot day.

“I’m… a caretaker. Of plants.” She paused, gauging Y/n’s reaction. “And other things.”

“Other things?” Y/n asked, intrigued but also amused by the way Pamela toyed with the mystery.

“Yes, like people who don’t know how to water a plant without drowning it,” she replied, arching an eyebrow mischievously.

The response made Y/n laugh, a laugh she hadn’t expected, as if Pamela had found a way to touch something deep within her, something that hadn’t bloomed in a long time. And without being able to help it, she felt drawn, not just by the way Pamela moved, spoke, or even by the air of mystery surrounding her, but because there was something more, something familiar, something that reminded her of her mother, but without the shadows of authority and judgment. It was like a wild, free version of what had once been security.

“So… are you going to save my cactus or criticize it?” Y/n said, trying to sound casual while feeling that her heart had started playing a game of chess with her emotions.

Pamela smiled again, and this time it was a different smile, one that seemed to carry a promise.

“It depends. Would you let me stay to try?” Pamela said, with a playful seriousness that left Y/n unsure whether the question was about the cactus or something much larger.

Y/n blinked, trying to process the phrase, but deep down she knew that any answer would sound awkward. Pamela’s question hung in the air between them like a leaf falling slowly, right at the perfect point where it was neither entirely a joke nor completely serious. And there she was, caught in that space, wondering whether she should laugh or just blush.

“Well… you can try,” she finally said, trying to hide the warmth creeping up her face. “But I can’t promise the cactus will survive. I’m something like… a serial plant killer... When I was younger, I had time to care for them as they deserved, with help from… from my father. But now work consumes me a lot, and the truth is I’ve neglected them too much… they must feel the same way I felt when… sorry, I talk too much about myself, don’t I?”

Pamela raised an eyebrow, with a smile that seemed to say more than either of them dared to voice at that moment.

“Oh, no, keep talking about yourself; I’m used to it. I have very… eccentric friends, to be honest.” She leaned a bit closer, as if about to share a secret. “Though I prefer not to work under threats, so don’t look at me like I’m going to be your next plant murder victim. But I doubt a little scared bat can kill even a fly.”

Y/n laughed nervously, surprised at how easy Pamela made everything. She, who had always been clumsy with conversations and glances, felt like the words flowed with Pamela in a way she didn’t quite understand but didn’t want to question either.

“...Little Bat?” Y/n asked, with a clumsy and blushing smile as her fingers nervously toyed with the edge of her cup.

Pamela let out a low giggle, that laugh that always seemed to carry the sound of dry leaves being trampled in autumn. With a gentle gesture, she pointed to her clothes.

“Is it that obvious?” she said with a half-smile, raising a playful eyebrow as she leaned a little forward.

She wore a dark fur coat, enormous, with a wide fall that, under the dim light of the BatCafé, seemed to have the precise shape of bat wings extending. The high, well-fitted black boots completed the image of a figure that seemed to have emerged from the very shadows. And for a moment, Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or get lost in that air of mystery that Pamela seemed to wear like a second coat.

“Well…” Y/n diverted her gaze with a shy smile, “it’s not like you’re hiding it much.”

Pamela smiled with that touch of mischief that characterized her.

“Does it bother you? I’m sorry, it’s just… I’ve been fascinated by bats since I was little.” she asked, her voice low and slow, as if measuring every word, as if the world were a delicate plant that required to be touched with the tips of her fingers.

Y/n let out a small nervous laugh, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks again.

“No, not at all. I think it’s…” she hesitated for a second, searching for the right word, unsure how to avoid the obvious, “I think it suits you well.”

Pamela watched her for a moment, and then, with that look that always seemed to go beyond what words said, added:

“You’re turning red, you know?”

Y/n’s eyes widened a bit more, surprised by Pamela’s directness, but all she could do was laugh at herself.

“Well, it’s just that, I’m not really used to… this.”

“This?” Pamela repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Sharing coffee with someone or bats?”

“Both,” Y/n admitted, shrugging, which provoked another smile from Pamela. “I always wanted one as a pet… but I have a vegan little brother who’s very… spooky… so I’ve always been afraid he’d steal it from me or accuse me of having exotic pets.”

Pamela settled into the chair, not taking her eyes off Y/n.

“But you’ll get used to it,” she paused, letting her words float calmly.

Y/n felt a shiver run down her spine, a mix of nerves and a spark of something she couldn’t quite define. Pamela’s dark coat and relaxed smile were a disconcerting yet strangely familiar contrast, as if they had always been there, waiting for her. And suddenly, all she could do was wonder how soon that would happen… getting used to it.

“Although I can’t promise my apartment isn’t… a battlefield,” Y/n said, trying to sound confident, but noticing the slight tremor in her voice.

Pamela looked at her intently for a moment, with that mix of flirtation and something deeper, something that seemed impossible to decipher completely. Then she relaxed in the chair, as if the game had just begun.

“A battlefield, huh?” she said, playing with the spoon of her coffee. “Well, I like challenges. And chaotic places have their own charm if you know where to look.” Pamela let the phrase slide smoothly, like someone throwing a stone into a lake and waiting for the ripples.

Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that every word Pamela spoke carried a double meaning, but far from making her feel uncomfortable, it sparked something akin to contained laughter, as if they were sharing a private joke that she was just beginning to access.

“Don’t you have plants at home?” Pamela suddenly asked, as if the question had sprung from the foam of her coffee.

“Well, there are a couple of cacti… and a fern that I think hates me,” Y/n replied. “But I always forget to water them. Or I overwater them. Seriously, it’s like plants come to me already doomed.”

Pamela smiled, one of those slow smiles that seem to grow little by little, like a sprout deciding when the perfect moment to emerge into the light is.

“It’s not just about water, Y/n,” she said, with that voice that seemed to carry the calm of the wind and the weight of centuries of nature. “Plants need attention. Patience. Sometimes they just want to know you’re there, even if you don’t say anything.” She paused, letting Y/n’s gaze get lost in her eyes. “Sometimes, like people.”

Y/n felt a little shiver. It wasn’t what Pamela was saying, but how she was saying it. There was something in her voice that disarmed her, as if every word had been calculated to penetrate a defense that Y/n hadn’t even realized she had up. And then, almost without thinking, she let slip a truth she rarely shared.

“I’m not very good with people.” The confession came out of her mouth before she could stop it. She said it without drama, almost as if she were talking about the weather. But something in Pamela changed, barely perceptible, like a leaf moving without the wind touching it.

“Really?” Pamela asked softly, but without an ounce of pity. Just curiosity.

Y/n looked down for a moment, fiddling with the edge of her cup, before daring to continue.

“I grew up in a huge house, but… empty. My father… well, he was busy with his things. Business, parties, the usual. Shrugging it off, wanting to downplay it, even though inside she knew it wasn’t something that could easily fade away. Alfred, the butler, raised me. And yes, he was amazing. But it was always just him and no one else. It’s not the same as having… friends.”

Pamela listened in silence, but not in that awkward way where people listen just to see how you respond afterward. No, there was something in her attention that enveloped Y/n, as if she were giving her space to bare herself without fear of being judged.

“You never had friends,” Pamela asserted more than asked.

Y/n shook her head.

“Until now,” Pamela said, with that same softness that seemed to have become her trademark, and something in Y/n’s chest stirred, as if she had just heard the most important thing in the world.

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a silence that somehow connected them. And then Pamela broke the spell, with a mischievous smile that lit everything up again.

“So… are you going to let me be your first friend, or would you rather keep killing plants?”

Y/n couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips, a sincere and liberating laugh, as if something inside her had broken an invisible chain. After all, it was clear that Pamela wasn’t just another person passing through her life. There was something different about her, something that made the air feel lighter, that made the future seem less uncertain.

“Well, if you can survive the cactus…” Y/n said, leaving the sentence unfinished, but knowing Pamela would understand.

And then, for the first time in a long time, Y/n felt that everything might be okay. That maybe, just maybe, Pamela Isley wasn’t just a roommate, but the first person in a long time with whom she could imagine a less lonely future. She was already caught in that web, and the worst, or perhaps the best part, was that she didn’t care at all.

Bruce Wayne was sitting in the mansion's garden on a gray afternoon that seemed to drag memories along like the wind drags fallen leaves. In his hands, a cup of black coffee, still steaming, its strong and bitter aroma mingling with the scent of damp earth after the rain. In front of him, on a small wrought-iron table, rested a piece of dark chocolate cake topped with melting strawberry ice cream, forming a pink puddle around it. But he found no pleasure in the view. It was more of a bitter symbol of a routine he once believed unbreakable.

In the garden, where the wilted flowers swayed gently, a little girl flitted about with contagious energy, as if the chill of the afternoon did not exist for her. Her laughter, so innocent and pure, filled the air, breaking the sepulchral silence that seemed to reign in that old home for a moment. She wore a pink dress with small white dots, an 80s style that would have been charming in another time but now seemed out of place with the scene. Her patent leather shoes shone as she ran back and forth, chasing her dolls.

In her small hands, she held action figures, one of the Batman her father portrayed and another of the Joker, his eternal rival. The girl, no older than six, organized her battles with adorable seriousness. In a high-pitched, mischievous voice, she brought the characters to life, staging an epic duel between hero and villain.

“You won’t defeat me this time, Batman!” she exclaimed, raising the Joker figure with a malevolent laugh.

“I will stop you! I always do...” she replied with her other hand, giving voice to Batman, but with a childlike touch that contrasted with the darkness of the character.

Bruce watched the scene with a mix of tenderness and pain. He knew she wasn’t really there, that this vision was nothing more than a distant echo of what never was. Y/n, his little Y/n, had vanished months ago. And he… he had never given her the love she deserved, always wrapped in his own shadows, in his endless struggle to protect a city that never rested.

The air felt thick, heavy with nostalgia and regret. The girl continued to play, laughing, talking to her dolls, oblivious to the weight of the years, to the loss. And Bruce, although he knew it was an illusion, couldn’t look away; he couldn’t stop imagining what it would have been like to give her what he never knew how to offer. What it would have been like to see her grow, to laugh more, to run through those gardens with the carefree spirit only childhood allows.

Suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps interrupted the daydream. Alfred appeared at the garden entrance, always elegant, always with that air of discretion and understanding that only he possessed. He approached slowly, placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder as if he understood the pain that kept him trapped in that scene.

“Mr. Wayne” he said in a low voice, filled with compassion, “it’s time to come back.”

Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, letting Alfred’s words seep into his consciousness. He knew what they meant. He knew that girl, in her 80s dress and her dolls, was nothing but an idealized memory, a distorted reflection of what never was. Because Y/n wasn’t like that. She didn’t like those old dresses; she had always preferred the fashion of the 2000s, with its vibrant colors and comfortable clothes. And she never enjoyed the chocolate cake now sitting in front of him. She liked carrot cake, simple and sweet, but he had never paid attention to those details when he still could.

How did he know those little details about his daughter? Bruce often wondered. It wasn’t because he had learned them by being close, because proximity had been a luxury he never allowed himself. No, those small fragments of her life he had discovered in the album that Alfred kept with an almost reverential discretion. That album was more than just an object; it was a silent refuge where Alfred had archived what the big house, always filled with shadows and echoes of footsteps that never came, had refused to hold.

The day the children learned of the album’s existence marked the beginning of a chaos he still remembered with a mix of exasperation and a contained smile. They had decided, like little conspirators, that treasure belonged to them. A kind of all-out battle had ensued in the mansion, something that over time acquired the quality of family legends.

Bruce, standing in the study, could still see the sparkle in Damian’s eyes, the intensity, the almost playful fury with which he had taken that assault as a personal mission. Damian, with his perpetual impatience, had been the fiercest of all. He vividly remembered how his youngest son had burst into the room wielding two katanas, with the cold precision of a millennia-old warrior, even though his hands were still too small to fully grasp the handles.

“It’s mine!” Damian shouted, with that mix of stubbornness and vulnerability that only the youngest possess, as if he could cut not only the air but the very uncomfortable silence that always floated between them.

“It belongs to all of us, Damian” Bruce had tried to intervene, with that authoritative voice that, curiously, never managed to control his own children as he did with the chaos of the city.

But Damian wasn’t listening. For him, the album was not just an object; it was a relic, a bridge to something he felt but couldn’t name. His sister Y/n, so distant in daily life, was closer in those pages than in any superficial conversation they had ever had. She was his sister, but not enough. He wanted those photos, those notes that Alfred had kept, he wanted to understand what it was about her that slipped away from him daily.

Bruce watched from the threshold, not really intervening. He let the chaos unfold, as if it were necessary. The children fought, but it wasn’t just for the album. They fought for something deeper, a kind of silent reclamation of what they had never been able to have: time, connection, perhaps even love. Alfred, from a corner, merely smiled with that quiet wisdom, knowing that those battles of childish katanas, of shouts and disputes over photos and notes, were actually the way they tried to find each other in a house full of absences.

Bruce sighed, remembering. Alfred had always known more than he did, always understood those invisible things that Bruce, no matter how much he wanted to, could never quite grasp. And so it was that he himself, at the end of it all, also ended up snooping in that album, with a silent curiosity he would never admit. There, in those carefully tended pages, he found his daughter. Or at least, he found the idea of her, the pieces of a life he hadn’t shared but that, somehow, had always been present in those photos, in those little notes that Alfred, more of a father than he was, had kept with such love.

“She won’t come back, Alfred... I lost her... maybe forever... ” Bruce murmured, his voice barely audible, as if admitting it aloud would make her absence more real—“and I… I was never there for her as I should have been.”

The old butler sighed, his tired eyes filled with infinite patience.

“It’s never too late to remember, sir. It’s never too late to honor her memory in the right way.”

Bruce opened his eyes, looking again at the scene, but this time more clearly. The girl had disappeared.

The wind blew gently through the Wayne mansion's garden, carrying away the murmur of the dry leaves. Bruce remained motionless, as if the weight of the years, of the mistakes, had turned him into another statue in that landscape. The aroma of coffee had dissipated, and the cake before him remained untouched. Y/n’s figure still floated in his mind, her laughter like a distant echo that wouldn’t fade but also wouldn’t console him.

Alfred, with the patience only a father at heart could have, stood by his side, his firm hand on Bruce’s shoulder, as if in that gesture he could transmit strength to face the pain that gnawed at him.

“Mr. Wayne” Alfred began, his voice soft but laden with meaning, “the kids have gone looking for Y/n again.”

Bruce closed his eyes, allowing those words to sink into his consciousness. He knew all the Robins and Batgirls had been following leads, searching for answers in the darkest corners of Gotham, but the emptiness he felt remained overwhelming. They had failed so many times… what did another attempt matter? The city, always hungry for its heroes, seemed more a trap than a cause.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Alfred” Bruce replied, his voice rough, worn down by years of struggle. “None of this will change what happened. Y/n… is gone.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Alfred interjected, this time with a firmer tone, “Y/n is still out there. And as long as there’s a single chance to find her, you cannot allow yourself to give up.”

Silence stretched between them. Bruce’s gaze remained fixed on some point in the garden, lost in thought. But Alfred, with his usual insight, knew he needed more than empty words to awaken him.

“There’s something else,” Alfred added, taking a breath, “a new figure appeared last night during a robbery in the East District. They call her Kerosene. The White Bat. She was seen taking out a group of assailants in seconds.”

Bruce didn’t react. Kerosene. The city had always generated figures willing to fill the void he had left every time he stepped away, every time Gotham lost the light of its vigilante. But this time, he didn’t feel the urgency to learn more. What did it matter? He repeated to himself. Gotham already had its heroes.

“I don’t care” he murmured, his voice empty, as cold as the air surrounding the garden—“Let others deal with Gotham. Kerosene, the Joker, or whoever… the city doesn’t need me anymore.”

Alfred tightened his grip on Bruce’s shoulder, almost like a father refusing to see his son give up. He stepped forward, and this time his voice was lower but more incisive.

“This isn’t about Gotham, sir,” he said with an intensity Bruce hadn’t expected—“It’s about Y/n.”

Bruce lifted his gaze, his eyes finally meeting Alfred’s, as if those words had ignited a spark within him.

“If you don’t want to protect this city, do it for her ” Alfred continued—“Because you will find her, sir. I’m sure of it. And when you do… how would you want her to find you? Destroyed? Defeated? No. You need to be ready, you need to be strong, for her. Wherever she is, Y/n is still waiting for her father.”

Bruce felt the pain in his chest intensify, a constant reminder of his failure, but Alfred was right. Y/n was somewhere out there. Alive or not, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that as long as he didn’t find her, he couldn’t give up.

“The kids have done everything they can to find her,” Alfred said, softening his tone—“They’re still at it. Every day they search for new leads, explore new corners of Gotham… but there’s only one man who can put everything in order. There’s only one father who can bring her back.”

The air tensed between them, and for the first time in a long time, Bruce felt a slight tremor inside. He remembered the moment he decided to become Batman, driven by the guilt and pain of losing his parents. Now, that same guilt, that same pain, called to him again, but this time, it wasn’t for Gotham. It was for Y/n. His daughter.

“Tell me, Alfred, who is this Kerosene?” Bruce murmured, finally reacting to the information Alfred had given him.

“Yes, sir. Her abilities are astonishing, according to reports. Agile, fast… but her true identity remains a mystery. Some say she’s just another vigilante trying to fill the void you left. But the important thing is that she is acting with lethal precision.”

Bruce stood slowly, leaving the cup of coffee on the table, already cold and forgotten. He looked at the empty garden, but this time, with a new determination blooming in his chest.

“If this Kerosene is connected… if there’s any link to Y/n, I will find out,” he said, his voice firmer, closer to the one Alfred had known for so many years—“And if not… then I’ll find her myself.”

Alfred nodded, a mix of relief and satisfaction reflected on his face. He had managed to awaken the man Gotham needed, but more than that, he had awakened the father Y/n deserved.

“ Very well, sir,he replied with a slight smile, always the unwavering servant—“The Batcave is ready for your return.”

Bruce turned toward the mansion, but not before glancing once more at the garden, where Y/n’s figure, so real in his mind, faded like morning mist.

Wherever you are, I will find you.

Richard “Dick” Grayson knocked forcefully on the old apartment door, the echo resonating in the narrow hallway of the building, where dust gathered in the corners like forgotten memories and the lights flickered as if trying to perform one last dance before going out. Beside him, Barbara Gordon, the commissioner's daughter, crossed her arms, staring at the door with an intensity that could have splintered the wood.

Jason Todd, restless to his left, kept his gaze fixed on the doorknob, his body tense, as if each passing second brought him one step closer to breaking through that wooden barrier. Above, on the roof, Red Robin, The Spoiler, and Batgirl waited, shadows in a world that seemed to ignore their pounding hearts, ready to act.

“I don’t know why we always have to deal with the worst specimens of humanity,” Barbara murmured, adjusting her coat as she shot a sidelong glance at Dick, who seemed to have a plan in mind.

“Because we’re lucky,” Jason replied, sarcasm lacing his words, a crooked smile on his lips that didn’t quite fit the situation. “And when I say ‘lucky,’ I mean we’re carrying someone else's karma because we… are screwed.”

Dick knocked on the door again, this time with more force. The echo reverberated through the hallways, a declaration of intent.

“We should break it down. You know it’s not going to open just from a gentle knock,” Jason said, stepping forward, his intention clear and palpable.

“Calm down, Jason. Not all problems are solved with violence,” Barbara retorted, though a part of her knew that idea faded every time they found themselves in a situation like this.

“Sure, as if we have another option. Do you want me to schedule a tea date instead of kicking down the door?” Jason frowned, the tension palpable.

Finally, a sound came from behind the door. Chains, the metallic echo of locks being unlatched with a maddening slowness, as if someone on the other side knew that every second of wait was boiling the blood of the three standing before the door. At last, the door opened just enough to reveal a face: the landlord. A short man with small eyes and a slimy smile that seemed to ooze like dirty oil through his yellowed teeth.

“What do you want?” he asked in a thick voice, looking at Dick with suspicion, but his gaze soon dropped to Barbara, lingering unpleasantly on her figure, and then to Jason, who had already tensed the muscles in his jaw.

“We’re looking for Y/n Wayne L/n,” Dick said, trying to maintain his composure, the heat of anger threatening to overflow. “We know she lives here. And we know you know where she is.”

The man let out a laugh under his breath, a rusty squeak that resonated like a heavy joke.

“Ah, the pretty girl… yeah, yeah. And who are you all, huh?” he asked, his slimy tone sending chills that seemed to crawl over Dick's skin.

“It’s none of your concern. We just want to know where she is,” Barbara said, her voice firm and resolute, although the tension in her body betrayed her impatience.

The landlord tilted his head, like a cat playing with its prey, and smiled with a disturbing mischief.

“Well, if you haven’t found her in five months, maybe you don’t want to know,” he said, letting the words drop like stones in a pond, creating ripples of discomfort.

“I warn you, this isn’t a game,” Jason interjected, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t make me remind you what can happen when a man plays with fire.”

The man shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned, although the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Jason's hand rested near his belt, right where he kept his gun, and although he hadn’t drawn the weapon yet, the threat was clear.

The landlord noticed but instead of being scared, he wore a repugnant smile, like a predator that had just spotted a wounded prey. His gaze shifted back to Barbara, and then, without the slightest respect, murmured something that made Dick’s fists clench.

“Ah, Y/n... yeah, I remember her. She came around when she had just turned eighteen. Good material, if you catch my drift. She looked innocent, but... those are the most interesting ones, right?” The man's gaze darkened, scanning Barbara again, as if evaluating merchandise.

“Say that again,” Jason growled, drawing his gun in a motion so quick that the landlord barely had time to blink before feeling the cold barrel pressed against his forehead. “And I swear I’ll blow your brains out right here.”

The words hung in the air, sharp, loaded with contempt and a lust that twisted like a snake inside him.

The man let out a cynical chuckle, relishing the moment.

“The last time I saw pretty Y/n was a while back. I don’t know what she’s up to now, but I kept some pictures of her and her friend.” His tone was defiant, almost mocking.

Rage was bubbling in Jason. His fists were clenched, a deadly spark in his eyes.

“What did you say?” His voice trembled between anger and control, like a string about to snap.

The landlord, feeling invincible, continued. “I don’t know if they’re lesbians, but seeing them together was quite the spectacle. Both of them were hot, you know?”

Jason could no longer hold back. The anger erupted like a volcano.

“Shut up!” he shouted, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the tense silence that had invaded the room.

Before the landlord could react, Jason pulled his gun, aiming with precision.

“I’m going to give you one chance. Tell me where Y/n is. Now.”

The man’s laughter faded, his eyes widening in shock. “Wait, wait, there’s no need to…”

“WHERE?!” Jason's voice thundered, firm and filled with rage, like a storm rumbling in the atmosphere.

The tension became palpable, the air thick with promises of violence.

“Alright, alright!” the landlord stammered, but Jason’s voice turned even colder.

“I’m not going to ask again.”

“She just left for work at night and that’s it…” he started to say, but Jason could no longer hear. The man had photos of Y/n. Compromising, crude, and that simple mention ignited hell in his chest.

In an instant, the sound of an explosion resonated in the hallway, and the man fell to the ground, his silly smile erased by the terror that had overtaken his face. Blood gushed forth in a dark torrent, staining the floor and nearby walls.

Barbara covered her mouth in shock, while Dick stood frozen, stunned.

“Jason!” she exclaimed, but the image of the landlord lying on the ground with his vacant stare was etched in her mind.

Jason holstered the weapon, his breath rapid and uncontrolled. He had crossed a line, and in that moment, he realized there was no turning back. Anger had found a way to break free, but at a terrible cost.

“I won’t let anyone hurt Y/n again,” he murmured, his eyes filled with determination. No one else would stand in his way to find her, no matter the price he had to pay.

The room was saturated with the echo of the gunshot, and the silence grew heavy, almost palpable. Barbara took a deep breath, the anger sparking in her eyes as she looked at Jason, who still seemed dazed by the act he had committed.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she said, her voice contained but sharp as a blade. “That’s why we didn’t bring Damian along, because he would have gone off just the same, but in a much more reckless way.” Her gaze fixed on the corpse, lying in a pool of blood, a scene that could have come from the mind of a disturbed artist.

Jason, with his chest heaving and jaw clenched, simply shrugged.

“I couldn’t just stand by. He knew something, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away.” The fervor in his voice didn’t hide the confusion that was beginning to seep in, like the cold of the night creeping through the windows.

Barbara didn’t respond, but the silence that filled the room grew even denser when the others entered, alarmed by the gunshot. Tim, Stephanie, and Cass arrived, their expressions filled with concern that quickly transformed into indignation.

“What happened here?” Tim asked, his eyes widening at the scene. Blood slid across the floor like a dark river, and the landlord’s body faded beneath the flickering light.

“Are you crazy, Jason?!” Steph exclaimed, disbelief palpable in her voice.

Cass crouched down, her expression grave as she looked at the fallen man. She didn’t need to speak to convey her disapproval; every glance said more than a thousand words.

“It doesn’t matter how we got here,” Dick intervened, his authoritative tone trying to restore order. “We need answers. Let’s investigate.”

With a determined movement, Barbara approached the body, while Jason still breathed irregularly, as if the weight of his actions began to settle on him. Barbara looked around; the apartment was a dusty and sad place, filled with shadows that seemed to whisper secrets.

As the others searched, Tim found a series of photos pinned to the walls, each one showing Y/n and other women from the area, frozen laughter in time, trapped between moments that should have been happy. However, there was something unsettling about the way they were arranged, a disorder that seemed a declaration of possession.

“Look at this,” Tim said, pointing to the images. There was Y/n, always smiling, but next to her was a figure that couldn’t be ignored. The silhouette of Pamela Isley, better known as Poison Ivy, stood beside her, her red hair like a fire that seemed to consume the sadness of the place.

“Pamela…” Cass murmured, her voice almost a whisper. “She’s been in Arkham for three months.”

Barbara moved closer, examining the photos more closely. “This is more complicated than we thought. Ivy has been involved, and that changes everything.”

Jason, still trying to comprehend the chaos he had unleashed, ran a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll find Y/n. I don’t care what I have to do.”

Barbara looked at him, her expression one of challenge but also understanding. “We can’t do this recklessly. We have to be smart. Silent.”

The group nodded, realizing that the road ahead would be filled with dangers, but also promises of redemption. They were all willing to kill for Y/n, but they had to do it quietly, like shadows slipping through the streets at night.

“Listen, we’re going to find her,” Dick said, his voice resonating like a mantra. “No matter how many doors we have to break down, how many truths we have to drag into the light.”

And so, in the echo of the silence that followed the violence, the five united in a tacit pact, intertwining their destinies in the search for Y/n. Each lost in their thoughts, each remembering that shadows sometimes have the power to conceal not only secrets but also the light that clings to hope.

The shadows stretched as they moved away from the apartment, leaving behind the vestige of a dead man and the echo of trapped laughter. The search had begun, and Y/n’s fate hung in the balance, a thread of light in the darkness that promised to bloom amid the ruins of despair.

The city lights flickered in the distance, like lost stars in the asphalt.

The tears of Y/n fell onto the slippery ground, forming puddles that blended with the blood, a dark ruby staining every part of her thin body, as if sins were being tattooed onto her skin. The humidity of the place smelled of iron and fear, of broken promises and a destiny she had chosen but didn’t quite know how to accept.

“It doesn’t feel good, little one?” said the Doctor, his voice a bitter whisper echoing off the damp walls of the room. He, with his dirty blonde hair falling messily over his forehead, wore a white coat that looked more like a rag than a symbol of authority. A cynical smile spread across his lips, revealing teeth that seemed sharper than the fate he had designed for her. “Bathing in the blood of enemies, isn’t it an exquisite pleasure?”

Y/n, her gaze lost at a point on the floor, nodded slowly, as if each movement cost her an eternity. The blood, warm and sticky, slid between her fingers, a sensory experience that drowned her in contradictions. On one hand, there was a dark delight in the power that image conferred upon her, a power she had learned to wield. But on the other hand, there was an abyss of pain threatening to consume her.

“It’s…” she whispered, barely able to form words. Her voice trembled like a leaf in autumn, indecision etched in her features. Guilt suffocated her, and each tear that fell was a reminder of what she had lost, of what she had left behind.

“What is it?” asked the Doctor, leaning toward her, his eyes lit by a glow that was not exactly compassion, but rather a cruel satisfaction. His gaze seemed to pierce through the layers of her being, scrutinizing the dark corners of her soul. “Is it pleasure you feel, or is it fear?”

Y/n recoiled, feeling her skin burn under his gaze. The Doctor’s words tangled in her mind, forming a knot that seemed impossible to untie. Her voice, almost a cry for help, resonated in the air.

“I don’t know! I don’t know if it’s pleasure or pain.” The words shot out like arrows, but only managed to embed their tips in the empty air, finding no destination. She trembled, caught between repulsion and the desire to free herself from the invisible chains that kept her anchored in that place.

The Doctor let out a cold laugh, as if he were enjoying the spectacle unfolding before him. With a careless gesture, he threw another bucket of blood onto the floor, creating a small puddle that slid toward Y/n.

“That is the beauty of your situation, my dear. You have been chosen to cleanse Gotham of the scum, and along the way, you will discover that pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin.”

“Chosen?” replied Y/n, her voice shaking with the fierce mix of disbelief and rage. “Chosen for what? To be your puppet?”

The Doctor stepped closer, letting the distance between them fade. His presence was oppressive, like a shadow that swallowed light.

“You are not a puppet, Kerosene” he said, pronouncing her name as if caressing it. “You are the spark that can ignite the revolution. The tears that fall now are the ashes of the old you, and it’s time you embrace what awaits you.”

Y/n felt the air grow dense, as if the Doctor’s words were trying to envelop her, to convince her. But there was a truth in his voice, an echo of what she had longed for deep within her being. Hadn’t she been searching for purpose, a place to belong?

“No… I don’t want to be what you’ve made me.” she said, though her voice sounded more hesitant than determined. It was as if reality slipped around her, like the slippery ground she stood on.

“Of course you do, Y/n.” He smiled, and there was something unsettling in that smile, something that made her feel she was on the brink of a revelation. “Your pain is the echo of the city, and you, little one, can be its savior.”

The Doctor’s words resonated in her mind, and Y/n felt herself teetering on the edge of the abyss, the possibility of becoming Kerosene, the force of vengeance and power. She fought against the idea, but there was a part of her that was beginning to awaken, to open like a flower in the desert.

“So, what do I have to do?” she asked, finally facing the reality that surrounded her. The tears, instead of being a sign of weakness, now seemed a recognition of her new identity.

The Doctor looked at her with a mix of satisfaction and complicity, like a teacher who sees the spark of greatness in his student.

“First, you must accept that the past does not define your future. The blood that surrounds you is only the first step toward freedom. Become what you have always been. Your destiny is to burn, and in doing so, illuminate others.”

Y/n felt the weight of her decision slowly fading away. By accepting her destiny, she had found a new way to free herself, a purpose that shone like fire.

“Then I will do it.” she said, her voice now firm and resonant, as if she were finally embracing the darkness that had always dwelled within her. “I will be Kerosene.”

The Doctor smiled, and in that smile lay a world of possibilities. Together, they could shake the foundations of Gotham.

“That’s right, my dear Kerosene.” He stepped back, allowing his figure to fade into the shadows..“And remember, every decision you make will be a step toward glory or toward downfall. The line is thin, and you are destined to cross it.”

“What about them?” Y/n asked, pointing to the shadows surrounding her, referring to the Waynes who remained silent in their luxurious prison of silence. “Where is Batman?”

The Doctor paused, his gaze turning serious and contemplative.

“Since your appearance, the Waynes have become shadows of what they once were. Batman has vanished, as if fear has locked him in his own game. They don’t want you to know the truth, and I wonder if, deep down, he fears what you are capable of.”

“Fears?” repeated Y/n, incredulity splattering her voice like a rain of dead stars. “Why?”

“Because the truth is that there is no longer space for the good in this city.” The Doctor stepped closer, his tone low but filled with fervor. “Soon you will go after the Court of Owls. We will expose those monsters in the streets, as they deserve, and they will have no one to defend them. Not even their beloved bat.”

A chill ran down Y/n's spine. The idea of stepping out into the night, of facing the villains who had ravaged her city, filled her with a strange power. She remembered Pamela, laughing amidst the shadows, her voice like an echo urging her to fight.

“I will not be their puppet. I do not want to be a pawn in a bigger game.” The words erupted from her with the force of an approaching storm, and the vision of Pamela dancing among the flowers filled her with a sudden sweetness.

“You will not be a pawn, Kerosene.” The Doctor smiled, and in his eyes was an air of admiration. “You are the queen in this game. Your vengeance will not only bring down those villains, but it will also seek the man behind the mask of Batman. We need to end him.”

“End him?” The question hung in the air like a trembling whisper. Her heart stopped for an instant, remembering the nights spent with Batman, the unspoken words, the caresses of an absent father.

“Yes. Because he, like them, has become a legend that needs to fall.”

Y/n felt the darkness looming over her, a shadow whispering promises of power and pain. But there was something more, a spark igniting within her, a fire burning with the strength of a new dawn.

“Then I will do it.” said Y/n, her voice resonating with a clarity that surprised her. “I will expose the Court of Owls and make my father see.”

The Doctor watched Y/n with palpable satisfaction, as if he had finally ignited a spark deep within her being. With a gesture of his hand, he made the invisible shackles that kept her trapped fade away. In that moment, a strange freedom slipped over her skin, a freedom laden with dark responsibility.

“Come, Kerosene.” he said, his voice now a hypnotic chant rising among the shadows. “There is something you need to see.”

He led her through a labyrinth of damp hallways, each step resonating like an echo of past decisions. The walls seemed to whisper forgotten secrets, tales of those who had fallen into the abyss before her. As they advanced, the light of day faded, and the gloom became an accomplice to their thoughts.

Finally, they reached the balcony of the building, a place where time had stopped its march. The Doctor gently pushed Y/n toward the railing, forcing her to look out over the vast expanse of Gotham that stretched before them. The city was a canvas of flickering lights and deep shadows, a portrait of intertwined chaos and order.

“Look, little one.” the Doctor whispered, his voice wrapping around her like a veil of mystery. “This is your city, a monster that feeds on the secrets you hold in your chest. The blood that stains your skin is a symbol of the struggle that lies ahead.”

Y/n leaned over the edge of the balcony, feeling the cold wind caress her bare skin. The city glimmered like a sea of dying stars, each light a story, each shadow a whisper of betrayal. The vision enveloped her, and for a moment, she felt like a spectator of her own destiny.

Her bare skin, still stained with blood, prickled at the chill of Gotham, a freezing breeze sneaking through the cracks of crumbling buildings, as if the city itself reminded her that she was alive, that darkness embraced her with its mantle of forgetfulness and despair. Each small contact of the air made her more aware of her vulnerability, and at the same time, of the power that blossomed from within her. It was a reminder that, amidst chaos, she was the spark of a new flame.

The puddles of blood that had stained her skin, silent witnesses to her transformation, shone like a dark ruby under the dim light of the moon. In that moment, each drop was an echo of past decisions, a symbol of the life she had left behind. And yet, in her mind, the Doctor's words echoed: “You are the spark that can ignite the revolution.” The irony of her state wrapped her in a sweet and bitter confusion; deep down, her nakedness felt like a release.

The city stretched before her, a vast ocean of twinkling lights and lurking shadows. Gotham, in its complexity, seemed to breathe, a living being pulsing with stories of pain and longing. The streetlights flickered as if about to go out, and Y/n felt that each flicker was a whisper calling her, a reminder that she was destined to be part of something much larger than herself.

As she gazed at the horizon, her mind filled with images: the faces of those she had lost, those she had loved, and those she had to confront. Her heart wrestled between the desire for vengeance and the longing for redemption.

“What do you see?” asked the Doctor, his eyes shining with an unsettling intensity.

“I see…” Y/n began, but the words slipped away like sand through her fingers. The city was a labyrinth of emotions, a stage where pain and pleasure intertwined in a macabre dance. It was a reflection of her own internal struggle, her desire for vengeance and her yearning for redemption.

“I see a sea of shadows, a stage where illusions collapse like houses of cards.” she finally replied, her voice echoing. “Each light, a hope; each shadow, a whisper of unhappiness.”

“Perfect.” The Doctor smiled, his face illuminated by an almost fraternal satisfaction. “Gotham is a mirror, and you are the light that can break the darkness. You must be able to see beyond what shines.”

The Doctor’s words resonated in her mind, tearing through the veil of confusion that enveloped her. In that instant, Y/n understood that every tear shed had fed the city, that every drop of blood on her hands was an echo of what she had lost. And yet, vengeance offered her a new purpose, a path into the unknown.

“The city cries for change, for a fire to purify it” she whispered, her voice gaining strength in the night breeze. “And I… I am that fire.”

“That’s right, dear.” The Doctor nodded, a mix of pride and malice in his expression. “The fire that will purify Gotham and, in its wake, consume everything that stands in your way.”

Y/n felt the air fill with electricity, a palpable current connecting her to the city, to its pain and desire. Deep within her, something began to change. She was no longer just a puppet; she was no longer merely the shadow of her past. She was Kerosene, the spark that would ignite the flame of change.

“But, Doctor, what about those who love the darkness?” she asked, her voice now an echo of what she had learned. “What if they cling to their shadow?”

The Doctor stepped closer to her, his penetrating gaze filled with complicity.

“Darkness is a possessive lover, but there is always a price to pay. The truth is that they cannot hold onto it forever. And when the fire burns, only those ready to be reborn will be saved.”

Y/n felt a mixture of anguish and determination. The city before her became a symbol of her internal struggle, a stage where light and shadow intertwined in an eternal game. Every street, every building, every corner whispered her name in a song of warning and challenge.

“And when the fire consumes everything in its path, will there be anything left of me?” she asked, her voice trembling with the fragility of a leaf in the wind.

The Doctor smiled, a smile that seemed to mock the questions still dancing in her mind.

“Perhaps, dear Kerosene, you will find yourself in the act of burning. Or maybe, you will fade into the ash. That is the enigma of transformation: in the fire, death is merely the prelude to a new beginning.”

As she gazed at the city, Y/n felt her identity fragment and fuse, in an endless cycle of creation and destruction. The image of Gotham before her became a metaphor for the human soul, a reflection of the struggles everyone faced in the darkness. The city, with its chaos and its heartbreaking beauty, enveloped her like a hug.

With one last look at the flickering lights and lurking shadows, Y/n stepped back, a firm decision rising within her.

“There’s no turning back now” she murmured, her voice an echo of her new reality. “I will be the fire that illuminates this eternal night.”

The Doctor, with a gesture of approval, retreated into the shadows, leaving her alone in her revelation. As the city spread before her, a mantle of mystery and power, Y/n knew that the true journey was just beginning. The line between fire and ash was thin, and in her chest burned the certainty that by crossing it, nothing would ever be the same.

“So be it, Kerosene” she said to herself as the wind enveloped her in secret whispers. “Let the fire speak in your name and let the night receive your lament.”

And looking at Gotham, she understood that, in the end, her destiny was not merely to be a spectator, but an unstoppable force, a storm that would unleash chaos. And so, with her heart beating to the rhythm of the city, she prepared to embrace her truth, her fire.

☆

A/N — Here is the long-awaited third part of this series. Thank you for all the support and love you have given me. I decided to make this part longer (at the cost of not being able to include the last image :( ) so that you can enjoy it more.

I was reading your comments where you were asking if Y/n and the Doctor would have a romance (which horrifies me a bit :d, but it gave me an idea) or if he performed a lobotomy on her. Well, that will be answered in the next part or in a headcanon, whatever you ask me.

By the way, in the tag list, there are some users I couldn't add, sorry about that 😔. I really appreciate your understanding and patience. Your enthusiasm keeps me motivated to keep creating and sharing these stories. I hope you find this installment engaging and that it brings you the excitement and emotions you’ve come to expect from the series. Enjoy!

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

take a bath!

Tag list! ◇ — @amber-content @toast-on-dandelioms @feral-childs-word @sweetconnoisseurgardener @victoria1676 @toasted-cat18 @nosyrobin @beeaskewwrites @yandere-enthusiast @telltaletoad @dhanyasri @vanessa-boo @m3vl0vesu @jellypotato66 @midnightgrimoire @cherryxxxxyoongi @imnotdumbimstupif @plsfckmedxddy @h0neysiba @mybones537 @erikasurfer @sheepintherain @pix-stuff @yan-rai @uniquecutie-puffs @arlandvery @theblonde777 @alishii

@maicenitas @ti-girl1226 @vanilliona @chickenwings435 @thedramabrotherss @bat1212 @imnotdumbimstupif @somebodyrandom-613 @aelxr @jsprien213 @sheepintherain @lovebug-apple @zenychwan @starsdotalk @holylonelyponyeatingmacaron @misdollface @clementinesyummy @bunbunboysworld @lunaluz432 @kiarst @meowmeeps @adeptusxia0 @mettatons-number-1fan @fairygardenprincesss @nervousalpacalady @mottysith

Inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams ' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

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fatuismooches · 11 months ago

Text

cor meum, manus tuas.

synopsis: After your illness strikes again, Dottore decides to gift you a failed experi-, a new companion in order to soothe your injured heart.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: A cute fluff fic where Dottie gives you Foxttore and the pufflings as a pet (the blue monster creature from Nahida's fairy tale.) He loves you a lot. Really just pure fluff and Foxttore getting on Dottore's nerves. Enjoy!

For as long as Il Dottore had known you, you had always been one to suggest things that he had no interest in. It was a habit of yours, and sometimes he’s not sure if you’re being genuine about it or if you simply want to rile him up, as you usually do.

One such example was back in the Akademiya when the two of you finally successfully reversed-engineered one of those machines after a painstaking amount of work. It was arduous and tiring, but immensely rewarding. Oh, he had so many ideas and things to do now, but you- you had other plans.

“So, now that we’ve got it under our control, I think we should program it to have some new tricks.” Zandik had paused at your words, as for once that was a good idea. He wondered what the limit of such a killing machine could possibly be.

“Go on.”

“Alright, imagine this, it’s about to swoop in and land the finishing blow, but instead, a whole bunch of confetti pops out and-”

“No.”

“You can’t even pick up a sword properly. You know nothing about fighting like I do! Just hear me out, it’ll be a great distraction because they’d never be expecting that, and boom, that’s where the real attack comes in.”

“No.” (Later on, he found out that you’d programmed the thing to have a single flower shoot out, just for him. He swiftly removed it after you were done laughing.)

Or when you had begged and pleaded with him to let you teach him how to cook, just once. It was no secret you were always the one on cooking duty during the Akademiya, for he had a severe lack of skill for it. Furthermore, Zandik had no interest in it, not having the time or patience for something just meant as sustenance. You, however, were insistent on at least teaching him the basics, for it was no way for a student to live (according to you.)

The slicing and dicing went well enough, but the moment you turned your back for a few moments, he had somehow set the smoke detector off, and the Akademiya’s dorm director gave you two a good scolding. You learned your lesson after this particular incident, but from your giggles, he knew you didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

Your antics were truly something he wouldn’t get used to. And now, over four hundred years later, your teasing nature had remained the same, only that it became more verbal as you didn’t have the strength to pull off your elaborate plans anymore.

Which is why lately you had been clinging to him with pleading eyes and a jutted lip, vehemently asking for a pet despite his numerous rejections, going so far as to try and recruit other segments (who, unfortunately for you, did not join your cause.)

“Please honey, my darling, my beloved, my-”

“My answer is not going to change, [Name]. I will not tolerate anything running around and causing a mess.”

“Aww, but come on. I know you love cats. I know you secretly pet them when no one’s looking. I know that-”

“That’s enough from you. Now, will you sit or should I strap you down instead?”

That line of conversation persisted for a while until you mostly gave up, only throwing the idea in from time to time with a hmph. But now, he was uncharacteristically wondering if there could be a solution to this problem.

Lately, you had been confined to your bed and room, too physically weak to move around much. He and the segments had done their best, as they always do, to take care of you, but one did not need to be a genius to know that you were feeling down. Not only because of the aches your body gave you, but also because you were lonely for most of the day, seeing as his other selves were usually too busy to spend an adequate amount of time with you. Once again, despite his lack of care for the emotions and feelings of others, he could see straight through your feigned expressions of nonchalance.

Dottore hated it when you pretended around him.

He could raise the topic but it would probably make matters worse. Instead, it was much more logical to work toward a solution for the issue - the solution being a companion to keep a smile on your face, and your mind at ease. Now, an actual pet probably would be a hassle to maintain in the lab, knowing the kind of activities that were… well, unsafe to say the least, so he put that possible solution to the side for now.

Initially, he sought to create something mechanical, having seen the mechanical animals from Fontaine. Of course, his creation would be far superior, and it would be quite helpful with your condition and all. But upon further thinking, knowing your tastes… you’d probably prefer something softer, considering how much you liked to cuddle him and your plushies.

It was a conundrum the scholar found himself in, making his darling lover happy was not something that could be so easily scientifically concocted like the rest of the conclusions he reached. It required much more than simply following the lines of reason. Perhaps that’s why Dottore often struggled with it.

Yet he did not have the luxury of time to continue pondering, for he did not want to leave you by yourself for much longer. And so he continued to sit at his desk, his hands automatically filling out paperwork while his mind was focused elsewhere, still thinking about what he could possibly gift you. Something warm and cuddly with the ability to communicate with you to some extent…

That was when he remembered something he created long, long ago.

The memories of that creation came back to him rather quickly once he remembered. Dottore remembered every experiment he’d done, but some were just not very special or successful and lingered very little in his mind. This was one of those unnoteworthy results. It was no secret that he was known to… play around with the concept of life, ignoring the rules that guarded it so strictly… and it was this idea that led to the birth of a creature, one that certainly did not belong to this world.

It was a monstrous, furry black thing that hid its true self with some kind of suit, its lone eye bright and red. It hadn’t been the first time his experiments led him to the unknown, but this… was just something he didn’t care about at all. After a few tests on the creature, he lost interest rather quickly. It was the farthest thing away from the life Dottore wanted to toy with. In fact, he had planned to dispose of the thing, but the creature seemed to understand his words more than he anticipated. It quickly scurried away, creating chaos and knocking down almost everything it could, skillfully making its escape.

Dottore had contemplated searching for his odd creation but decided that it wasn’t worth the time or energy. Judging from the distaste it held for him, it probably wouldn’t come around anyway. So, it could exist in the far depths of the lab for all he cared. It wasn’t like this was the first time he threw things into the back and forgot about them. Now, he was rather pleased that he didn’t get rid of his experiment. He had known you for long enough that he was sure you’d find such a thing cute, for some reason. It checked the fluffy and easily holdable boxes too. His only question was whether it could be alive after all these years… well, it was certainly worth a shot, seeing as his solutions were limited.

The answer to Dottore’s question was a yes. It had unfortunately taken much longer than he’d liked to search the dusty rooms (although admittedly, he had gotten a bit distracted with reviewing the old things he dumped) but at long last, he had found the round creature peacefully dozing without a care in… some kind of bed it had crafted with a bunch of papers and black fur. It looked perfectly content… in all honesty, Dottore was a bit interested in what it had been up to all this time. Maybe it held more scientific value than he thought…

Regardless, in one swift motion, Dottore grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and it immediately awoke, attempting to scramble away. Once its single eye laid on the man who so rudely interrupted its sleep, it blinked, before multiplying its strength to escape, even trying to scratch him, but to no avail. The Harbinger’s grip was far too strong, of course. Meanwhile, Dottore had already lost a bit of patience from the creature’s incessant movements.

“Stop that,” he demanded sharply, and the critter instantly went still as its eye continued to stare at him completely widened. Dottore smiled, which felt rather eerie and frightening to the oversized creature.

“What, did you think I came all the way here to finish the job? Oh no, if I wanted to, I would have done so already a long time ago. Instead, I have another use for you. Something that will benefit both of us. I’m sure you’ll agree,” he hummed as he turned to leave the room. But as he took a single step, he found himself stepping on something soft. Curiously lifting his foot, he looked down to see a small, black, round ball of fluff staring at him with a red eye identical to the creature he held in his hand. And then another came into view.

… And another. Soon at least over a dozen had popped out of the shadows, all watching at him with anticipating eyes. He had forgotten these balls of black fur were also a byproduct of creating the creature. Now quite a few had surrounded his feet and were hopping up and down, attempting to climb his pants, which he quickly shook off with a scowl. Well, it looked like these things were going to follow him regardless of what he said…

“If you all are going to follow me, be prepared to make yourself useful,” he sighed in exasperation before finally leaving, stepping on a few more in the process. (The usefulness in question, was making sure you’d be left with a smile.) Based on the odd squeaking noises the smaller creatures made, they seemed to be on board with the idea.

—

When your husband suddenly presented you with a gift contained in a rather large box, you were a bit surprised. Not because you were receiving a gift, but because of the size of it. Normally, he would give you small trinkets and such, things he’d thought you’d like (that had no real purpose to him, retrieved solely for you. Yes, he was very cute unintentionally. You had a little shelf for his stuff.) But you had no clue what he could have possibly gotten for you that warranted the need for such a big container…

You had long discarded your book in favor of new entertainment (you were reading the same sentences over and over anyway), your hands gliding over the rough material. Dottore was looking at you expectantly, having barely said anything besides shoving the thing on your bed, with a simple “for you.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your chest getting a bit lighter from the previously stuffy atmosphere dissipating.

“Are you going to explain yourself or leave me guessing as to what I’ve done to receive such a thing?”

“You have been lonely and tired, and I seek to alleviate your pain. Yet there are certain things I cannot always do, which is why I found a solution,” he stated simply, pushing the box closer to you as if it was no big deal. Your eyes widened as your jaw hung, speechless, before you sent a small, teasing smile to your husband.

“I… well, who knew you could be such a considerate man? Keep that up and you’ll make me blush.” You couldn’t help but heat up a bit from his concern, although he didn’t say it outright. And you didn’t really have it in you to deny his words too, he was right after all, you have been lonely and tired from being cooped up in your room all day.

“Still, I want a hint! Ah, it’s too heavy for me to even lift up…” You couldn’t guess what could be in here. “Could it be the latest new novels from Inazuma?”

“No, but those are on the way. It’s something more-” At that moment, the box slightly shifted and you blinked in surprise.

“Oh, oh! Are these new models of Beta’s miniature Ruin Machines? Did he finally make the Ruin Sentinels series?” In truth, initially, the segment wasn’t interested in creating such pointless machines, but after you oh so innocently challenged him to make them movable and fit in the palm of your hand, he took the bait and presented them to you smugly. Needless to say, you very much liked your little collection of action figures, and you were hoping he had finally made ones that could fly.

“No, it’s-” Once again, he was interrupted by even more dramatic shuffling, thumping echoing loudly from inside the box which made you scoot back a bit.

“Dottore, you sure whatever’s in here isn’t going to attack me…?” Your voice was more lighthearted than worried, but now you were squinting at him a bit suspiciously. Dottore’s expression remained unaffected, but inside he was the slightest bit annoyed. He had told those damn things not to move around. Thankfully, a sharp slap to the cover of the box caused the movements to cease, and he only smiled at you once again.

“As I was saying, it’s something you have been asking about for a long time.” He watched as your face turned thoughtful, fingers drumming when suddenly it became very obvious as to what it was.

“Is it… is it what I think it is?” He found your expression rather amusing as he witnessed your eyes becoming sparkly with joy.

“Go ahead,” Dottore motioned and you wasted no time pulling the cover off the box, your eyes meeting a furry, blue creature whose lone eye gazed up at you curiously. You blinked at it, and it blinked back at you, but you had no time to say anything before some other unknown creatures began pouring out the box and spilling onto your bed, some crawling on your lap. This was certainly not the average pet you had expected… but you were not complaining. These things were the cutest - not to mention the little strand of hair on the top.

“Dottore,” you giggled at the fluff tickling your skin, “what exactly are these- oh!” Your words were interrupted when the larger creature suddenly jumped out of the box and launched itself into you, pawing your chest. You reciprocated the attention in delight, giving it numerous head pats and taking a closer look at it. Most of its soft fur seemed to be blue, although its head was black, and its beak was harder than the rest of its body. Regardless, it was completely adorable, and it seemed to like you very much.

“It is something I created in my lab during one of my experiments. I figured it would be something you’d enjoy.” You lit up, and the scholar couldn’t help but appreciate how you seemed to glow.

“You made these little guys for me? Oh, I always knew you could be such a romantic! I have my husband, my son, and now a cute pet. Isn’t it nice to see our family grow, Zandik?” He remained silent at your hastily made conclusion, deciding that the little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when you looked this happy. After all, he imagined your response to him keeping this creature in the backrooms of his laboratory for ages wouldn’t be very well received, considering how attached you were to it already. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the glare the creature sent him either.

“Do they have names yet?” Dottore thought back to the string of numbers and letters attached to this experiment and opted not to disclose that, shaking his head. You hummed, trying to think of what name to bestow upon your new pets until you quickly came up with something good.

“Foxttore,” you stated firmly.

“Foxttore?” He repeated a few seconds after you, rather unimpressed.

“Yes! Because he looks like a fox, and he also kind of looks like you!” You playfully squished the creature’s cheeks.

“I bear no resemblance to that creature,” he frowned, immediately refuting your statement.

“Don’t look like that,” you teased. “It’s a compliment. You’re both cuties that are the same shade of blue,” you leaned in to kiss him gently, a simple way to silence him despite his vexation. “Now as for these little ones…” you thought once more as the black puff balls clung to your arm, Dottorelings… no, that’s too long… how about pufflings? Yes, that will do nicely!” Seemingly understanding your words, the pufflings began jumping up and down in glee. You then moved closer to the man and enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you for this, Zandik. I am very happy,” you whispered quietly as you snuggled into his neck. It was the truth - you really were happy to have some company constantly around. Your husband returned the hug and you loved how his strong arms felt around you.

“Of course. But if they happen to cause you any… trouble,” he sent a look to the thing now called “Foxttore”, “be sure to tell me.”

“Aww, don’t say that. Foxttore is a good boy! Right?” You smiled brightly at your new pet, who was kneading the blanket, watching the two of you. The contrast between its creator’s less-than-pleasant face and your wide grin was stark and rather easy to choose from. It then hopped up and practically wedged itself in between the two of you, looking up to you with a pleading eye, desperate for attention. You squealed with delight and pressed the creature to your cheek, nuzzling against it.

When Dottore noticed the cheeky look his creation sent him, he wondered if this was actually a good idea.

—

Foxttore and the pufflings were the best and cutest companions you could ever ask for.

The pufflings were always scattered about your room, resting in different locations. You honestly had no clue how many there were, nor could you tell them apart, but you swore they squeezed through the bottom of your door somehow because sometimes they’d return with random items. They seemed pretty starved for attention… they even liked it when you squished them like a stress ball.

Foxttore was equally as cuddly, but also rather intelligent. He would fetch you items so you didn’t need to get up, and he could even turn a doorknob… you were fascinated. One of your favorite things to do was give him a note for him to deliver to a segment, and he would actually deliver it. (Said note usually contained you begging a segment to visit you, otherwise you’d die without their attention.)

After a lot of cuddling and rubbing, you found out that Foxttore was just a severely oversized puffling with four legs instead. That blue fur of his wasn’t even his, just a suit he wore. It was quite funny to see him without it on. It seemed rather shy without its fox fur, but with enough kisses, hugs, and reassurance, it had no problem lounging around without it.

You read them stories, showed them everything your room had to offer, placed some of Beta’s cute pink bows on them, bathed with them - you were starting to look forward to the day much more now that you could wake up to them.

—

While Dottore knew that you would get attached to the little monstrosities he gifted you, perhaps he didn’t anticipate it to reach this degree. Even after you had gotten well enough to stroll around the lab again, the blasted things were attached to your hip the whole time.

Visiting the segments? They would come up to you, caressing and teasing you with their deliciously infuriating small touches and kisses, and then all of a sudden a small crash would sound throughout the room, the culprit being Foxttore.

Visiting him? He’d have you on his lap, about to pin you to his desk, when he noticed the pufflings watching him from all corners of the room. It was maddening trying to chase them away, but then you’d get pouty about how the creatures didn’t like to be alone. (The only segment that the creature seemed to like was Zandy, although it had taken a while - a bit of scolding from you, and many offerings of food from the child to Foxttore had done the trick.)

As much as Dottore was glad your mood had improved greatly, admittedly, it would please him if he could just chuck his creations out into the Snezhnayan snow, just to finally get some alone time with you. But you loved them too much, so he resolved to resort to other means… eventually.

Over time, your pets gradually began to not hog your attention the whole time, but you were very insistent on helping Dottore and them become friends. It wasn’t very easy, however, they seemed to have some tension between them. You weren’t really sure why, but you still loved having them together.

—

“Dottore! Oh Dottore, you have to watch this,” you puffed out your chest proudly as Foxttore trotted behind you. Your husband looked at you questioningly before you spread your arms out, directing them toward the creature.

“I taught Foxttore tricks! Watch this! Foxttore, sit!” Your pet obediently sat down, his tail wagging (although you had no clue how that worked since it was just a suit…)

“Foxttore, spin around!”

“Foxttore, roll over!”

“Now high-five me!” Dottore watched in amusement as the blue creature followed your commands with ease. Perhaps it really was smarter than he thought. Regardless, all he cared about was that you were occupied with something, rather than being by yourself.

“Okay, now fetch Dottore’s secret stash of sweets!” At that, Foxttore began making its way over to one of the numerous bookshelves in Dottore’s office before the Harbinger quickly realized what you said, and stopped the creature in its tracks.

“I knew there were too many pieces missing,” he stared at you humorlessly, while you sweated nervously.

“W-What? You said I was allowed to take some!”

“I said you, not this… thing,” the man then picked up Foxttore by its strands of blue hair, which the creature fought at, and dropped it in your arms like it was some pest. “I’m moving it.”

“Please don’t! I won’t do it again!”

—

The continued pampering of Foxttore had, unfortunately for your lovers, become a norm to see around the lab. He was a spoiled lil shit, in other words, who could do no wrong in your eyes… which is why every new thing you did had little to no effect on them anymore besides an eye twitch of annoyance and a promise to bully the creature later. The current situation was one such time. Dottore had come into your room only to see many abnormally small clothes scattered on your bed, with you in the center of it all.

“Oh Dottie, you’re just in time! Look at what I got!” You then held up Foxttore in all his glory, his new hoodie substantially thinner with different patterns, a great big smile on your face.

… It was only you who had the privilege of using his time like this.

“Now before you ask how I got these, I had them custom-made! See, I wanted to sew the clothes myself, but my hands have been too shaky lately and then you’d get all grumpy if I hurt myself with the needle, so I just asked Columbina to find someone for me and she did! She’s a great friend!” You continued to ramble on.

“See, the poor thing gets too hot sometimes, especially when he starts running on our walks,” you said sadly, while he wondered how exactly you walked this monstrosity, “that’s why I got him different clothes! And they’re stylish too! Look, he’s even got pajamas! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You looked at him, your eyes sparkling and glittering with light that dazzled him.

In all honesty, Dottore didn’t really care about the little abomination of a creature. In fact, he probably leaned more into disdain for it. But what he did care about was you, and what made you happy, what put a smile on your face since he hated for it to be missing.

“I believe your definition of cute is rather unusual.”

“Huh? How could you not think Foxttore is the cutest thing ever? Oh… I see your game. You think I’m the cutest thing ever, don’t you?” You boldly teased him which didn’t phase him, only making a confident smirk grow on his face.

“I suppose that would be accurate, yes. Nothing else comes to mind that could be compared to your beauty,” he said smoothly, plucking the creature from your hands and dropping it elsewhere, which it clearly disliked, but he was more interested in your reaction. Your mouth slightly ajar, heat creeping up your face with a flustered expression, breathing speeding up a bit.

“A-As long as you’re aware,” you mumbled shyly, turning your face away, although your slight smile was apparent.

Needless to say, Zandik was always aware of his beloved.

��

You always loved it when you were able to leave the lab. Sometimes they were frequent outings, sometimes they were very rare. It all depended on how well you had been feeling lately. Today, you had finally been able to go out for a short walk with Dottore after so long. The cold air and snow had you shivering, but feeling the wind hit your cheeks was worth it. (And being able to cling to your husband was a definite plus in your books.) But you were still happy to come back home.

… Especially when you were greeted by your little friend.

As soon as you walked through the door, you noticed that Foxttore was impatiently waiting by the entrance. The moment he saw you, he sped toward you at light speed and pawed at your legs for pets, hopping up and down. You couldn’t help but laugh as you bent down to give him some attention which he happily reciprocated, but then he pulled away and started wildly running around the two of you.

“Aww, Foxttore is having zoomies!”

“… Pardon?”

“He’s having zoomies!” You smiled at your husband before crouching down, and your pet immediately ran into your arms and settled himself there as you picked him up. “Aww, you must have missed us so much, didn’t you?” You cooed as you rubbed his tummy, while Dottore merely stared at you blankly. The man then noticed the creature’s eye had narrowed into a half circle directed toward him as if to mock him.

If there was a point system between the two of them as to who was able to steal your attention more, Dottore would sorely be losing.

—

It was one of the few nights where you were able to spend a night like most couples do at the end of the day - resting in the same bed with your lover. You weren’t even sure how you managed to do it this time. You thought it was probably due to your persistence but also that he was genuinely tired. (Well, he had been genuinely tired for ages now, but you were able to get him on a weak day, perhaps.)

You had always loved it when Dottore held you, even if it was slack or just one arm, you always felt safe. Protected. Warm. Happy. The feelings only amplified when both his arms caged you into his chest, which was the perfect place for you to snuggle. (Still, he’d never admit to being the little spoon from when he was a student.)

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done lately, by the way.”

“Of course,” his answer was as simple as could be. He stroked your hair languidly, always one to brush off your thank yous.

“I mean it,” you wiggled out of his grip to look him in the eye, lip jutting out slightly.

“I already know you do. You do not need to keep saying it every time.” You pouted at his response. How else were you supposed to show your appreciation? You then grabbed his arm, which was surprisingly pliable, and placed his hand over your heart.

“Then let me know if you need anything from me. Anything at all. I have to pay you back eventually, you know.” Dottore looked as if he was enjoying himself.

“What do you propose? I’ll listen to your suggestions.”

“Well… I have kisses and cuddles as my expertise. I can cook and bake for you sometimes too… oh, but I can also try doing some of your paperwork! …What? You’re not impressed? I guess I can try to do some more… unsavory tasks as well. The Fatui agents listen to what I have to say quite easily,” you continued to chatter as Dottore’s fingers made their way from your cheek to your neck and then your collarbone, making you stammer at the sensation. “Hey, you’re not even taking me seriously, are you?” Your husband only chuckled at your furrowed eyebrows and grumbling.

If anything, he would want you to repay him by letting him see the faces you’ll make once you’re finally free of your illness.

“Anyway…” you squeezed his hand with yours that still rested on your chest, “You probably know this already, with that ever-calculating mind of yours, but you hold my heart in your hands. I’ll always be here with you.” It was a funny thing to think about, giving your heart to someone like him, in both a physical and intangible sense. Trusting him with your frail body, trusting him with your love, knowing he could squeeze it to a pulp if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t.

He would treat your heart with the utmost care and precaution, not daring to risk even the slightest harm to it.

Dottore stared at you for a few moments while you held his gaze, resolute on making your point known. Wordlessly, he began to move closer to your soft lips, intent on making his response to your statement physical. He was so close, his nose brushing against yours, and your warm breath on his. He was about to finally satiate his desire when-

Something was scratching at the door. Loudly, too. The sudden noise made you jump back and turn your gaze to the door. The Harbinger had a bad feeling about this.

“Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“You’re just lying now!” With a huff, you pushed the blankets off, much to his displeasure, and made your way to the door, opening it. There was Foxttore, making strange noises that he tried his best to mask as cries.

The bliss Dottore felt a few moments ago had turned to immense annoyance immediately.

“Oh, you poor baby! Did you have a nightmare or something?” You exclaimed before quickly scooping Foxttore into your arms and bringing him onto the bed. “It’s okay, you’re with us now…” You softly murmured, stroking it gently as you let it settle on your chest. Where Dottore’s hands should be right now, cupping your soft skin instead of that damned creature.

Dottore swore he was going to throw that thing out once you were asleep.

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yeoldenews · 7 months ago

Note

Why do young kids sound so adult in old letters? Not just the ones you share, in general. It's one of the things that puzzles me about Yes Virginia, There is A Santa Claus. Were educational standards stricter? Was it actually parents writing for them?

If I had to guess, I'd say a decent part of this could be due to the fact that everyday, standard English at the time used a structure and level of formality we now associate with the elderly. It's similar to how teenagers in the past look older to us in part because we associate the styles of their hair and makeup with our parents and grandparents.

The first particular piece of syntax that popped into my head when I read this message is the placement of the word "have" in sentence structure. It used to be standard English grammar to begin questions about items or traits people possess with "have" rather than "do you have"; e.g. "Have you a pencil?" vs. "Do you have a pencil?".

If I were to hear the question "Have you any presents you'd like for Christmas?" my mind would default to imagining a formal, elderly person, as that's the only type of person I've ever personally heard use that syntax.

I think what we sometimes fail to consciously realize is that the stuffy, formal, 90 year old grandmothers we talk to didn't spontaneously start talking like that once they reached a certain age. They were taught certain grammar rules as children and continued to use them throughout their lives. We only associate that type of language with the elderly as the only people still alive to use it are now very old.

Education in the past also relied much more heavily on rote memorization and repetition, which I'd imagine caused people to more strictly adhere to the things they learned, including grammar, than we do now.

Children were taught in school how to write formal letters and those lessons were carried over even in letters to Santa.

I imagine in the future the phrase "I hope this email finds you well" is going to end up seeming (even more) oddly formal and dated, but people use it because that's what we were taught to do.

That being said, there are definitely Dear Santa letters written by parents, especially if the child is very young - but after 14 years of doing this I think I've developed a pretty good eye for spotting these. That's why I rarely post letters from children under school-age, with the exception of what I've taken to calling "toddler transcription" where the parents write down what their young child says word for word.

#asks #dear santa #history #english language #kids

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ruegarding · 9 months ago

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so. percy's arc in boo (learning to step back, allowing leo to sacrifice himself despite his loyalty/fatal flaw) sucks. for many reasons.

for one, percy yielding is such an integral part of pjo. all of pjo. but even if u somehow missed it in the first four books, tlo explicitly spells it out. "sometimes the hardest power to master is the power of yielding" hestia says to percy. "i yield when necessary. can you do this?" and then this is the climax of the story. "you are not the hero...it will affect what you do." percy has spent the last five books being told that he's the super powerful chosen one able to save or destroy the world, and he still chooses to yield to someone that has done nothing but betray him. "the line from the great prophecy echoed in my head...my whole world tipped upside down, and i gave the knife to luke." hoo acting like this is a lesson percy needs to learn is an affront to reading comprehension. percy lives bc he yields. and then he does it (yielding) again when he surrenders godhood, and power, to choose other demigods instead. this is not subtle writing.

for two, percy has rejected power, and his title, for the entirety of his story. percy doesn't even fully recognize how powerful he is until the volcano in botl. and he had to be told directly that it wasn't a fluke. then in son, percy immediately rejects the power and status offered to him. repeatedly. reyna offers him praetorship, he turns it down. frank is abt to let percy climb the wall first in the war games, percy says it was frank's claim. percy doesn't even want to go on the son quest but relents bc frank asked him. in moa, percy never demands that he lead. instead, he includes frank where he probably wasn't necessary, supports hazel, encourages annabeth, follows leo and piper's lead, and strategizes w jason. he isn't acting as a leader, but rather as part of a team. percy didn't need to "step back," the writing for the other characters needed to step up.

for three, percy had to be kidnapped and manipulated to be on this entire quest. he's not there bc he has a hero complex. acting like he has to learn to step back when he was quite literally shoved into place is wild.

for four, an integral part of percy's character is freedom, autonomy, and he extends this to the ppl he's loyal to. this is pretty explicitly established in tlt: "you're enough like me to understand," sally says. "if my life is going to mean anything, i have to live it myself." percy respects ppl's decisions. this is one of the first lessons he learns when he becomes a hero and an integral part of pjo: percy has to let sally save herself. percy has to let tyson go to the boiler. percy has to let bianca defeat talos. percy has to let nico walk away. percy has to let annabeth fight. if he loves them, he's going to let their lives mean something. even in hoo, percy still lets annabeth go on her quest alone, despite hating it, despite disagreeing w it, bc it's not his place to tell her what she can and can't do. this is her life. she has to live it. so this plotline doesn't even work it we ignore all of pjo and focus solely on hoo.

this theme of autonomy is especially important bc pjo is abt disability. one of the first things ppl try to take away from u when ur disabled is ur autonomy. the fact that percy vehemently defends it not just for himself but for others is essential to the narrative. percy advocates for other demigods, other disabled kids, and tyson, and he does so while maintaining their autonomy. it's why he's the leader, it's why he's the protagonist, it's why there is a callback to it in every pjo book. trying to act like he wouldn't respect someone's autonomy is a bastardization of this entire theme. which is actually fitting for hoo considering it bastardizes the rest of pjo anyway.

#this is a surprise tool that will help us later #i would edit this except i don't respect boo enough to care #percy #rr crit #hoo crit #anti boo #disability

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janeyseymour · 1 month ago

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Drinks and Jealousy

Summary: It takes one flirty woman at the bar for Melissa to finally make a move on you.

WC: ~3.9k

When you start at Abbott Elementary, you try to keep to yourself and stay as professional as possible. When you start at Abbott Elementary, you don’t expect to become a part of that little core team that the principal adores. When you start at Abbott Elementary, the very last thing that you expect to do is fall for the redheaded second grade teacher that everyone warns you about.

As your time at Abbott Elementary continues though, you find that you end up doing everything you said you wouldn’t.

Since the beginning of the school year, you’ve shown to work each and everyday with a travel mug filled to the brim with coffee and a smile. Adorned in respectable teaching clothes and hair done nicely, makeup on, you choose to keep to yourself. Sure, you sit in on staff meetings and offer your opinions when asked, but that’s about it. Other than that, you eat in your classroom for lunch, you stick to your lesson plans, and you never pry about your coworkers’ outside lives. It’s not your business what they’re up to, and it certainly isn’t their business what you decide to do in your free time. You hear the talks of the school, but you don’t participate in any conversation or gossip. Why would you? You have a job to do, and it is certainly not to wrap yourself up in workplace drama.

But then one day you decide to bring something that needs to be heated up in the microwave, and you have to venture out of your little safe space and into the staffroom. As you walk through the halls, you make a mental note to bring that extra microwave that you have at your apartment to school.

“Y/N!” you hear one of your more cheery coworker’s voices. “You decide to come down for lunch today?”

You shrug and offer a friendly wave. “Just have to use the microwave.”

You see the way that she shrinks down just slightly before perking back up. “You should join us for lunch!”

“I really should be getting back to my room to do some work,” you try to decline politely.

“It’s lunch time, kid,” you hear a lower, more gruff, voice tell you. “Don’t burn yourself out.”

“I won’t, I just have to-”

“There will always be some sort of excuse. Don’t do that to yourself,” Melissa tells you again. “You’ll burn out, and we can’t afford to have any more half-decent teachers leave because they try to do too much at first and find they can’t keep up with it all.”

As the microwave goes off and you pull your meal out, you turn to the redhead. When you expect her to be snarky and look as though she couldn’t give half a shit though, you see how genuine she is in her statement. And so, with somewhat of a heavy sigh, you give into their simple request and join them for lunch.

What you don’t realize is that one little action will become a ritual for you- something that becomes a part of your routine. On the rare day that you genuinely are up to your eyeballs in lesson plans and paperwork and can’t make it down to the staff lounge, you feel miserable. At that point, you yearn for the thirty relaxing minutes that you get during your work day.

Slowly, you become a part of their little group. They begin to include you in more conversations not based around school and work, and you find that you don’t necessarily mind them asking you about your personal life. It’s interesting to learn what you do about them as well.

You make your way into the staff room one day for lunch, only to see a substitute sitting in your unofficial assigned seat at the table with Jacob, Gregory, and Janine. You pop your food into the microwave and look around curiously, trying to figure out where you should sit today or if you should just head back to your classroom.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the beeping of the microwave and the sound of a chair being kicked out by none other than Melissa Schemmenti.

“Sit with us today,” the second grade teacher smiles and gestures to the chair. Silently, you oblige her request. From that day on, you claim your place among the two veteran teachers.

As time goes on, you finally decide to accept their invitations to events and gatherings outside of work. You find that you quite like being in their company. Everyone is a little different, has their quirks, and generally just exists together. The group somehow works despite everyone having such different personalities.

And as even more time passes, you find yourself leaning on Janine for emotional support. The two of you grow quite close- you would even venture to say after some time that she’s your best friend. You’re more than happy for her when she and Gregory finally get together- going as far as giving him the best friend spiel about how if he hurts her, you’ll find a way to make sure he was never born.

You tell him that you know a guy, to which he snorts.

“The guy you know is Melissa,” Gregory laughs.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the woman in question appears next to you. She lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, and I know a while ago I said I’d only kill for Barb, but I think I’d kill for any o’ youse now.” She frowns. “Shit, I’m getting soft.”

“You’ve been soft,” you tease her.

“Only for you,” she mumbles. And then she’s off to do whatever it does that Melissa Schemmenti does. You can’t help but follow her with your eyes as she goes.

Janine turns to you. “Okay,” she whispers excitedly. “So now that I got my head out of my ass, when are you going to get your head out of yours?”

“What?”

“When are you finally going to admit that you have a thing for Melissa?” the second grade teacher bounces on her toes. “We could go on double dates!”

You chuckle. “Even if we did ever get together, I don’t know that she would want to go on double dates.”

“So,” your friend completely misses what you just said. “You do have a thing for Melissa?”

You sigh heavily. “Even if I did,” you mumble so only she can hear. “I doubt that someone like her would have a thing for me.”

And then you walk away from the conversation in favor of actually getting something done in your classroom.

You don’t know that one little quip of yours has Janine’s brain going a mile a minute with ideas of how to get the two of you together.

“Janine, I think that they’ll figure it out eventually,” Gregory states over dinner one night. “If we could figure it out, so can they.”

“So you agree that they like each other?”

The man nods firmly. “Even a blind person… or Jacob, could see that.”

“Then we have to help push them along! Like Jacob did for us,” Janine argues.

Gregory sighs quietly. “Maybe we could just keep going out all as a group. I’ve noticed that the two of them seem to gravitate towards each other when we’re all out.”

“Yes!” the second grade teacher grins and claps her hands enthusiastically.

And so, the gang has many outings in hopes that the two of you will finally just pull your shit together. There are days at the bar, more karaoke outings, a few get togethers at a coworker’s house. The two of you always seem to be seated together, and if you aren’t initially at her side, someone moves in order for you to sit next to her. Nothing ever happens though.

But then one night, you’re out at Ruby’s. And when you sit down at the bar and Melissa runs to the bathroom upon her entrance, another woman very clearly eyes you up.

“You come here a lot,” the woman tells you as she sets her bag down next to you.

You turn on your stool. “Oh, uh, yeah.” Wow. She’s really pretty. “With my work friends.”

“Just friends?” she asks. At your nod, she continues. “I’ve been wanting to come over and say hi, but I couldn’t tell if you were with the redhead or not.”

“Oh,” you chuckle softly, cheeks tinting red. “That’s not… no. We’re just, uh-“ you cough a bit awkwardly. “Friends.”

“So, it’d be alright if I bought you a drink?”

You bite your lip a bit nervously. “I suppose that would be alright.”

“Mika,” the woman smiles at you charmingly before waving over the bartender and ordering. The drinks are made, and then you’re being handed yours with a warm smile.

You speak with Mika for a bit before Melissa emerges from the bathroom and over to your side. Her eyes narrow immediately when she sees how close this new, gorgeous, woman is to you.

“Hey,” you smile at your favorite coworker gently.

“What’s this?” the second grade teacher asks through practically gritted teeth.

You introduce the two. “I was just waiting for you when she came over to talk to me.”

“Interesting,” Melissa nearly snarls out. “Well, I guess if you’re ever done flirting, I’ll be over with our friends.” She storms off.

“Are you sure the two of you aren’t together?” Mika asks as her eyes follow in the direction of loud boots against the floor.

You nod your head once as you watch the redhead make her way over to your group of friends.

“What’s making you look like someone told you your gnocchi wasn’t good?” Janine asks.

“Is it that very pretty woman flirting with Y/N?” Barbara asks knowingly.

Melissa’s eyes squint as she looks over to you and Mika. “Hmm. I don’t think I noticed that woman there before.”

“Like Hell you didn’t see her,” Barb calls her friend out. “You spoke to them, and then you should’ve seen your face when you turned around to come over to us.”

“Well, now I’m pissed that I forgot to order a drink,” the redhead huffs out.

“And would that be because you were distracted by your blinding jealousy?” Jacob cuts in.

“Shut up, Hill.”

“I’d love to stay and chat with you,” Mika tells you as she lays a gentle hand over your arm. “But I think your friends are waiting for you.” She points in the direction of your table. All of your coworkers are practically staring at the two of you. Melissa’s eyes look like stone. If looks could kill, you’d both be dead.

“I guess I should go over there,” you half chuckle, half sigh. “But it was really nice talking to you, and thank you again for the drink.”

“Of course,” your new friend smiles.

You go to turn away and head for your friends, but you notice that your favorite redhead doesn’t have a drink in her hand. You turn back to the bar, and you don’t know it, but the second grade teacher clenches her fists and locks her jaw when she thinks that you’re going to stay with Mika. Instead, you order Melissa her preferred drink, receive it, and head over to your colleagues. You settle in next to Melissa with a smile on your face, and you can see the way that she physically relaxes when you hand her her drink.

“Thanks, hun,” the second grade teacher sighs softly.

“You know I always have you,” you tell her quietly.

“Do you think Mika worked?” Jacob asks Janine once they finally get a moment alone.

“We all saw how pissed Melissa was while she was talking to her,” the shorter teacher grins. “I can’t believe our plan might work.”

“And it only cost me to buy her her drinks for the night!” the social studies teacher exclaims.

You see the way that Mika’s eyes linger on you the entire night- how she wants to come over and steal you away from Melissa. But you also notice how the redhead constantly has her eyes on the pretty woman across the bar; how she’s staring daggers at the woman and daring her to come over so Melissa can fight. You notice the way that your coworker has her hands all over you at any given time.

Maybe it’s the drinks that are giving the second grade teacher this confidence. That’s what you let yourself believe in the midst of your somewhat drunken haze. You also allow yourself to enjoy it- to pretend that this is what your life is: having the most beautiful woman at the bar hanging off of you and making you feel like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered in this world.

Soon though, your bladder wins out the fight of wanting to dance with Melissa all night or use the restroom. You excuse yourself with a smile and a promise to bring back another drink while the redhead tells you that she’ll keep your spot on the dance floor open.

Y/N, Jacob texts Mika. Bathroom. Go.

Janine takes over. Get her number and wait to text until she’s back with Melissa to fuel the fire.

And so the woman does. She slips into the bathroom and pretends to fix her makeup as she waits for you. And when you come stumbling out of the stall, you see the pretty woman that bought you a drink earlier in the night.

“Funny running into you,” you chuckle as you wash your hands.

“Almost like it’s fate,” Mika tells you suavely. Oh if only you knew how orchestrated this meeting was. “Since we’re here again and I didn’t have the courage to ask earlier, do you think I could get your number?”

You blush. “Oh, I don’t know. I uh-“ you stumble over your words. “I honestly probably shouldn’t have even accepted that drink from you.”

“Why’s that?” Warm eyes meet your own with fake curiosity. She knows exactly why.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I kind of, uhm… the redhead you thought I was with? I kind of have a thing for her.”

Mika’s face falls just slightly, despite grinning on the inside. She just got you to admit that you have feelings for Melissa. “Well, you told me that there wasn’t anything going on there, so… why don’t you give me your number and I can text you? And if you regret it tomorrow, all you have to do is text me and tell me that it isn’t going to work out. How about that?”

Your cheeks turn red as you toy with the idea in your head. “Uhm… I guess that would be okay.”

The woman hands you her phone with a smile, and you clumsily put your number in.

“I’ll text you,” Mika promises you with a wink, and then she’s off and back to the club.

The pretty woman that you met twice tonight does indeed text you. She texts you as your dancing with Melissa. Your watch goes off with the notification, and you glance at it. Green eyes look at it too.

“Who’s texting you?”

“Mika,” you say as you continue to dance to the music.

“Who?” The redhead removes her hand from your body and halts her own dancing.

“The woman from earlier,” you say, although it sounds like more of a question. “I ran into her in the bathroom, and she asked for my number.”

The woman in front of you frowns. “I need another drink.”

“I just got you one,” you point out.

Melissa downs it in one go. “I need another one.”

She walks away from you, leaving you entirely confused on what just took place. With a sigh, you make your way back to the table that some of your friends are still occupying.

“Done dancing for the night?” Barbara asks you.

You nod, wiping a bit of sweat from your forehead. “I think I’ll stick around to finish this drink, and then probably head out.”

And you do. Once you finish your mixed drink, you make your rounds and go to head out on your own.

“You’re really going to let her go by herself?” Jacob asks Melissa as she watches you go.

“I ain’t done my drink,” the redhead grumbles. She sips from it slowly.

“What if something happens to her?” Barbara asks.

“So why don’t you go?” the second grade teacher mutters.

“Gerald’s on his way already,” the kindergarten teacher states. “Just go.”

“Fine.” Melissa downs her drink and then follows in your direction. On the small trek to the outside, the woman makes up her mind- she’s going to tell you how she feels tonight. But by the time she gets outside, she sees you getting into an Uber, and she sighs with defeat. She turns back into the bar.

“She already left,” the redhead says quietly as she sits back down next to her friend. “But I think I’m going to call an Uber for myself anyway.”

“Would you like a ride, dear?” Barbara offers her best friend.

“It’s fine,” Melissa waves her off. She doesn’t want the woman to know that she isn’t actually going to head back to her own house. No- she’s going to get a ride to your little townhouse.

You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when you hear your doorbell ring. It’s best not to answer though- not when you’re home alone. So, you ignore it. Only then you hear whoever is at your door begin to knock rather aggressively. Slowly, you make your way to your room and grab your phone and the baseball bat that you keep by your bed. And then of course, because in the middle of someone trying to get into your house, your phone begins to ring loudly. Quickly, you glance at the device, and.. why is Melissa trying to call you?

“Melissa, I can’t talk right-”

“Will you just come open your door?” the redhead asks rather aggressively.

“Th-that’s you?” you stutter out.

“Yes! Who else would be pounding on your front door at this hour?”

With your bat in hand, you go to your front door and lo and behold, Melissa is standing on your front step. You open the door as you lower the bat.

“H-hey,” you breathe out a sigh in relief. “Wh-what? Why are you here?”

“Don’t go out with that woman,” the redhead tells you urgently.

You know in your heart that you were going to let her down easy tomorrow anyway, but you can’t stop the question from spilling out of your mouth. “Why?”

“Because…” Melissa forces herself to take a deep breath. And then before you know it, her arms are wrapped around your neck and her lips are on your own. When the two of you pull back, the woman continues. “I want you to go out with me. Not her. Me.”

“Are- are you being serious?” you ask nervously. “Because I always thought that… that you wouldn’t want someone like me.”

“I don’t want someone like you. I just want you.”

The next morning, Melissa is right next to you, and nothing has ever felt this right.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper as you kiss her softly.

“I’m here,” the redhead smiles. “I do think though that we shouldn’t tell our work friends yet about… this. Give us some time to adjust.”

“I agree.”

“I also think you need to text that girl that was trying to hit on you last night and tell her you’re off the market now.”

So, with Melissa in your bed, you text Mika.

Hey. It really was great meeting you last night. But I don’t think it’s going to work out. The redhead and I… we ended up getting together last night.

The text back is almost immediate. Hey, that’s great for you. Best of luck.

And then Mika opens up the text thread with Jacob and Janine. Your friends finally got their heads out of their asses.

You’re the best, Jacob responds. Thanks for your help!

Janine responds with a series of emojis that show just how excited she is about this.

On Monday morning, you’re sitting in the staff lounge as you usually do. It’s nice and the calm you need before the storm that you (lovingly) call your students. Nothing is out of the ordinary really. You just sip your coffee from your mug as you look through your plans for the week. The only difference is that every so often you glance up from your laptop and papers to steal small glances at your now girlfriend. You can’t help but smile each and every time.

But then the bell rings to signal the beginning of the school day, and you sigh. Still though, there seems to be this glow around you, and you have a pep in your step that usually is only reserved for Friday afternoons when you can see the weekend.

Monday afternoon, you have a staff meeting to sit through. It goes by as each one does, although you can’t find it in you to even pretend that you’re listening. Instead, you spend your time trying to figure out how much you can look at the redhead without it being obvious.

When you’re dismissed from whatever Ava was droning on about, you gather your things and head back to your classroom to pack your things for the day. What you don’t know is that while Melissa is walking out of the library, Janine jogs to catch up with her.

“Hey, congrats on the two of you getting together,” the shorter teacher says. “I wanted to tell Y/N congrats too, but she kind of booked it out of here.”

Melissa rolls her eyes with a fondness. “I told her not to say anything yet.”

“She’s my best friend,” Janine tells the redhead. “She doesn’t need to say anything. I can just feel that she’s happy. I don’t even need to see her to know.”

“She didn’t tell you? Really?”

“Nope,” Janine pops her ‘p’. “I can just tell.”

“Well, thanks kid,” Melissa smiles. “Don’t say nothin’ though. I gotta run too. The two of us are having dinner at my house tonight.” With those words, she’s off.

Jacob finds his smaller friend a few seconds later. “So, what Mika said is true?”

“Melissa confirmed it herself,” Janine grins.

“It’s about damn time the two of them pulled their heads from their asses and started dating,” Jacob smiles as he high fives the second grade teacher.

That night, over dinner, Melissa tells you that Janine knows about your relationship.

“How? I didn’t tell her, did you?”

“She told me that she could just tell that you’re happy,” the redhead sighs.

You hum. “I am happy with you. I can’t believe it took another woman flirting with me for you to make a move.”

“I guess if we ever see her out again, we’ll have to thank her for helping us get here,” Melissa laughs.

Oh, if only the two of you knew that Jacob and Janine were the masterminds behind the two of you finally getting together- that Mika only came to flirt with you to make Melissa jealous because of them. But for now, they keep it a secret.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @eliscannotdance

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you

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fleetingtemper · 11 months ago

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when you get lost

possessive unhealthy behaviors! heavily implied yandere

SUNDAY

you were only supposed to be gone for a few hours, doing shopping around the dreamscape. of course, sunday would be damned if he didn’t assign designated oak family agents to closely accompany you all day. you are, after all, mr. sunday’s precious darling.

but he could only blame the incompetence of these agents for losing you. he will have to punish their families quite severely, he thinks to himself. this could only be an act of treason, sunday reasons.

his wings twitch in annoyance.

“i suppose any good pet returns to their master after they’ve realized what an unforgiving world we live in,” he muses

and would he be the head of the oak family if he wasn’t always correct?

there you were, shivering in his doorway, dripping like a wet puppy.

poor (y/n), he thinks. how likely of you to be entranced by street performers and wander off like a child. stars fill your eyes, struggling to take in all the gleaming lights. you are enchanted by these sights for quite some time, until you realize you are lost.

suddenly, the world wasn’t quite as beautiful.

you shakingly walk over to sunday, looking up at him through tear soaked lashes. he tsks before brushing your hair out of your face.

“my dear, how ever did you get lost?” his gloved hand caresses your hair. “i’m afraid i’ve been so careless with you,” how could he let you, a poor, stupid thing, leave his sights again?

“you worry me too much, my dear”

“i’m sorry—“

he pressed a finger to your lips

“as the head of the oak family, i must protect all of my citizens. including you.”

“you best not leave the estate at all.”

JINGYUAN

when jingyuan is informed of you never returning from your outing, he abandons the stacks of paper work at hand. he truly wonders if you just enjoy the punishment at this point.

you had fallen asleep at the base of a tree after a long day of entertaining friends and family. you just needed a break.

deep into your slumber, you felt a raindrop hit your face. groggily, you open your eyes to finally see rain puttering down upon your head. you curse silently before a loud clap of thunder surprises you. however, the thunder was quickly drowned out by the sound of hundreds of armor clanking towards you.

you rub your eyes, only to finally see yourself suddenly surrounded by cloud knights. your stomach drops. how long had you been asleep, you wonder anxiously.

oh no, jingyuan will be—

speak of the devil.

the cloud knights part to make way for the general himself.

the thunder crashing and downpour don’t feel as threatening now that he had shown up. and of course, with the lion.

he silently picks you up bridal style, and you do not dare fight it. you only just recovered your legs recently, after all.

“may i suggest that you take a nap in my sights next time?” ah, but he didn’t really mean that there would ever be a next time.

“yes, general.” you mumble

he gently, but firmly, takes your chin. “you need not maintain formalities, my love,”

“however, as your general, i do not wish to have to imprison you for high treason.”

your eyes widened. high treason?

he lowers his head until his lips are against your ears. “you are my spouse and it is your duty to be as such”

“you cannot absolve yourself of this duty for as long as the mara-struck live.”

VENTI

venti knew you were lost.

there was nowhere in mondstadt where you could ever wander off to where he wouldn’t know your every move. he admired your furrowed brow and how you chewed anxiously on your bottom lip. you were lost, indeed.

oh dear, it seemed as if you were about to walk through an area notoriously frequented by hilichurls and slimes. he thinks to himself that you’ll just have to learn your lesson.

he watches as the hilichurls take notice of you and alert the others.

he only watches as he watches one notch an arrow and lets it soar, narrowly missing, yet scraping your leg.

you yelp out in pain and he almost gets the urge to help you.

but maybe in a little while.

the anemo archon is amused by how you fumble to grasp your sword imbued with your (element) vision. he makes a face, revolted by the reminder of how one of his fellow seven had blessed you, his darling, with their power before he did.

finally grasping your sword, you swing at the hilichurls charging at you, knocking down a few. the pain in your leg makes it hard to fight but archons, you couldn’t afford to lose.

you stifle back groans as clubs bash against your unarmored back. you feel your head spinning from hours of dehydration and hunger.you swung violently at the monsters, not realizing the commotion your fight was causing.

how did that eye of the storm get there?

when you thought you had finished off the monsters, you felt a strong gust of wind knock you down. dirt and debris swirl around you, filling your lungs. you cough violently, eyes filled with fear at the storm in front of you. no way, you internally scream.

you reach for your sword but it is blown out of your weak grip several feet away. fuck, you had no option other than to crawl away.

just as you thought you were finished, an anemo imbued arrow soars past your head and right into the storm, dissipating it. you whip your head around to see venti, the drunkard bard you had befriended.

“are you alright, (y/n)?” he gazes at you worriedly. tears fill your eyes as you throw your arms around the bard, knocking him back onto the grass.

“t-thank you venti,” you hiccup, burying your head into his shoulder.

he rubs your bruised shoulder soothingly. blood stains his hands and he resists the temptation to taste you. how naive, he thinks.

to think you were so badly spooked by a little wind,

he couldn’t wait to see your reaction to dvalin.

#honkai sr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #sunday x you #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshinimpact #genshin impact x reader #jing yuan #jingyuan x reader #hsr x you #hsr jing yuan #genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere honkai star rail #yandere sunday #yandere venti #yandere jing yuan

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amyzworldds · 4 months ago

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Title: When Life Gives You Tangerine

A shy girl from Jeju who secretly admires her lively classmate, Boo Seungkwan, through small, thoughtful gestures. As their lives take unexpected turns, her quiet support evolves over the years, blending childhood memories with dreams that grow far beyond their little island school. Pairing: Boo Seungkwan x Reader Genre: Fluff an: OMG, I forgot to include this part!! This was supposed to be included in Part One, and when I reread it, I just realized I forgot this. I'm sorry huhuhu😭

Seungkwan wasn’t as clueless as Y/N thought. Sure, he’d teased her that rainy day in class—“You! The quiet girl! Is it you?”—but he’d known all along. Those tangerines with their wobbly smiles and tiny “Fighting!” notes? Only one person in their class had cheeks that turned tangerine-red when she got shy. He’d caught her sneaking glances, seen her duck behind chairs, and he’d loved it. Every morning, he’d sit down, spot the tangerine grinning up at him, and feel like the luckiest kid in Jeju.

“Another one!” he’d say to Doyun, holding it up like a trophy. “Look at this heart—it’s so crooked, it’s cute!”

“You’ve got a secret admirer,” Doyun would snicker. “You should thank them.”

“Nah,” Seungkwan said, peeling it open. “She’s too shy. I don’t wanna scare her off. Plus, these tangerines? Best part of my day.”

But then, they stopped. The desk stayed empty, and so did Y/N’s seat at the back. Seungkwan frowned, poking Doyun one morning. “Hey, where’s the quiet girl? She sick or something?”

“Dunno,” Doyun shrugged. “Maybe she’s just late.”

She wasn’t late. Days passed, and Seungkwan started to worry. “What if she’s really sick? Like, really sick?” he whispered to himself, imagining all sorts of dramatic scenarios. Finally, he overheard Mrs. Kim talking to another teacher: “Y/N? Oh, she’s moved to Seoul with her parents.”

“Seoul?!” Seungkwan yelped, loud enough that Mrs. Kim turned around.

“Seungkwan, indoor voice!” she scolded, but he barely heard her. Y/N was gone—just like that?

That afternoon, he grabbed a tangerine from home, scribbled a quick “Get well soon!” on it (just in case she was sick), and marched to her grandparents’ house. He knocked, shifting nervously as the door creaked open.

“Oh! You’re the singing boy!” her grandma said, her eyes lighting up. “Seungkwan, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, holding out the tangerine. “Is Y/N here? I heard she’s… gone?”

Her grandpa nodded, stepping out. “She’s in Seoul now, with her parents. Left real quick—didn’t even take all her things.”

Seungkwan’s shoulders slumped. “Oh… I brought this for her.”

Grandma smiled, taking the tangerine. “You’re a sweet boy. Wait here.” She shuffled inside and came back with a little sketchbook. “Y/N left this. We think you should have it—she was always drawing you, you know.”

“Me?” Seungkwan blinked, his cheeks going pink. He took the book, flipped it open, and—wow. Pages and pages of him: Seungkwan with a mic, Seungkwan with stars, Seungkwan on a stage with a crowd of tangerines cheering him on, their little faces beaming. He laughed, loud and bright. “She’s so funny! Look at these tangerines—they’ve got eyes!”

“She believed in you,” Grandpa said, chuckling. “Said you’d be a star someday.”

Seungkwan hugged the sketchbook to his chest. “I’m keeping this forever.”

Back home, he taped his favorite drawing—the one with the tangerine crowd—above his bed. Not long after, his life took a wild turn. A teacher uploaded a video of him singing at a contest, it blew up online, and suddenly, a company called Pledis was on the phone. High school hit, and boom—he was a trainee, sweating through dance practices and vocal lessons in Seoul.

Some nights, when he was bone-tired and ready to flop, he’d glance at that drawing. “You were right, Y/N,” he’d mumble, smiling. “I’m getting there.”

The other trainees noticed, of course. One day, Hoshi plopped down next to him, peering at the sketch. “What’s with the tangerine army, Seungkwan?”

“Oh, this?” Seungkwan grinned, holding it up. “It’s from my secret tangerine girl. Back in Jeju, she’d sneak these cute tangerines onto my desk—smiley faces, hearts, little notes. She was so shy, her cheeks would go all red!”

“Aw, that’s adorable!” DK cooed, leaning over. “Did you ever tell her you knew?”

“Nah, didn’t wanna embarrass her,” Seungkwan said. “But when she moved away, she left me this. Look at those tangerines—they’re my first fans!”

Mingyu smirked. “You’ve got a fan club before we even debuted. Lucky.”

“I know, right?” Seungkwan laughed. “She drew me like this—like I’d be a real singer. I wanna find her someday and say, ‘Look, your tangerines got me here!’”

Debut came, and Seventeen took off. Stages got bigger, crowds got louder, but Seungkwan never let go of that drawing. He’d tuck it into his bag for every tour, a little piece of Jeju magic. “Y/N’s out there somewhere,” he’d tell the boys backstage, grinning. “She doesn’t know it, but she’s the reason I kept going. I bet she’s still drawing tangerines for somebody.”

One night, after a massive concert, he stood on stage, waving to the sea of lightsticks. He didn’t know Y/N was out there, clutching her own tangerine, cheering him on like always. He didn’t know she’d become a Carat, her shy little heart still rooting for the boy who’d made her days brighter. But he held onto that hope—someday, he’d meet her again, show her that drawing, and say, “Hey, tangerine girl, we made it!”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen x oc #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenario #seventeen x carat #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #svt fluff #svt angst #svt imagines #seungkwan #svt x reader #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x oc #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader

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saintshadow · 2 months ago

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ADVICE FROM YOUR SPIRIT GUIDES

pile i

Have more faith in your circumstances, it’s okay to feel unsure but letting it consume you will not aid in navigating the rough internal waters of your emotions. You’re not processing something, a fear, an anxiety, a reality- perhaps you have a hard time holding onto this particular lesson. Your spirits do see improvement; they just need a little bit more from you so that they can actually bring in more blessings and stability. If you are not internally stable then you will have a hard time cultivating external stability. Stay busy, stay active, don’t be consumed by fear of loss or destruction. Destruction happens to us all, but we must let go of that fear- there is so much more to life than the now but we cannot grow as intended if we cannot exist in the present. You’re being advised to go within for comfort, to rely on yourself for strength- this is not meant to be painful but it is meant to be empowering. You’re meant to do great things, even if you can’t see it now. One day, your time will come- and you will know that your suffering was not for nothing. Dare to dream, and dare to go after your desires.

They will come to you much quicker than you think. If you move in alignment with your goals they will come crashing towards you. Try not to get wrapped up in the chaos and try to remember WHY you are doing this. There is also a message about taking things slow and being patient with yourself. Making sure to do your due diligence, making sure to research and to find whatever information is available to you to help you in your case or in your situation. Sit with the moments of calm and clarity, where you see a steady path ahead. When things become muddled and confusing that's how you'll know that you're overthinking and living from fear/trauma.

I heard "you're ready" you can absolutely plant the seeds for what you're looking to do. For some it could deal with travel, since the 3 of wands did come out. Moving, travel, building something steady or solid that you can utilize as some sort of foundation maybe? This could even be about internal foundations, emotional foundations, with a lover, with a best friend, or with yourself. Take what resonates and apply the message as it is applicable. I see that you are seeking a "new beginning" or a "new chapter" perhaps you've felt as if you're tired of your current circumstances or feeling exhausted. You're being guided to take this leap of faith to an extent- with planning and practicality included. This is more like a calculated risk, than a leap of faith ngl. All in all though, I heard "smooth sailing" it may be a lot easier than you think to attain your desires. You have to believe in it though, and you have to do your very best to remain positive love.

Have strength through your heartache, and know that this is meant to wake you up to the possibilities. It is revealing what no longer serves you, or showing you something. You are being supported in this, I think there may be people or things that want you to feel hopeless. You have to remain hopeful and you have to remain confident that you will get what you want. For some of you this could be about love, or even a long distance relationship. You can't let fear overcome you, and you have to be strong. Your person feels strongly for you and things can absolutely work if you allow them to. You can't get caught up in the what-if's you have to get caught up in the "how will" so to speak. "How will I get my desires, how will I go after what I want, how will I attain my desires" Your fears are unfounded, essentially- pile 1. I hope this reading resonated, if you'd like to book a personal on this topic for 35$ feel free to reach out.

pile ii

Let go of the past, I understand this person or situation may have really hurt you but the hatred/anger you’re harboring in your heart is eating you alive. There may be things about the situation at hand which you’re not aware of. There’s a message of patience, and a calm before the storm. This message will resonate with those for whom it’s intended. As for the rest of you, you’re doing really good imo. Sowing your seeds, being patient, and minding your own. Something could be bothering you, like it just doesn’t sit right. You could have witnessed an injustice, or something you seem to be incorrect or unfair. You’re being advised to move away from pain and sorrow. To walk away from the sob stories, trust in your gut. This could be a lesson of intuition, are you going to trust yourself or are you going to repeat the cycle.

Don’t ignore the blatant and unarguable truth. Embrace it fully and accept it, live with that truth.

If you’re struggling to find that truth be patient, spend time in nature, in due time all will be revealed pile two.

There's a lot of movement in these cards, the 8 of wands, the wheel of fortune, the chariot, the fool- you're meant to be moving forward. You are supposed to be creating something for yourself- but you may be fixating on creating something for someone else? You have to stop doing that, and you have to start putting in actual effort towards your personal goals. You're not a babysitter for this person, or for a specific situation and you have to stop acting like one. Be aware of this person, they could have vengeful tendencies, they may feel slighted by you and you could feel hypervigilant of their next moves. Some of you could perhaps be leaving an abusive environment, friendship, friend group, relationship, or an overall abusive situation. You could spend a lot of your time trying to balance this person out, and it's literally killing you. For some of you it could be because you have health issues, for others it could simply be because you have too much on your plate already and you just keep stacking shit on top of it. For reasons unbeknownst to myself and you. You could be scared of using some kind of savings you have, you may be scared of running out or being in a bad financial situation but I see where you will actually benefit more from taking this action than you think. Take measured action, look at your options- and move accordingly to those options.

You need to be making balanced decisions right now, even if you can't move to a nice new apartment that's top of the line you can find a room for rent, or etc.. It's not going to be perfect, not at first- but you will be free and you should have gratitude for that. You have to make a decision, and you may be shocked by the outcomes. You have many possibilities, you have many choices, and you should map out carefully what moves you'll decide to make next. Thank you for reading pile ii <3

VERY LAST MESSAGE: Someone's spirit stayed after I asked them to depart, they want to deliver a final message I have no clue who this is for BUT: You have well thought our your plans and the actions will deliver the correct consequences I'm hearing? Consequences don't have to mean that something bad is happening I suppose. It could mean that the cause and effect for this is more positive than you think. Rely on this spirit, they could be an air spirit or when they were alive they could've been an air sign or had air in their chart or had stelliums in air houses. I'm hearing "Uranus and Jupiter" idk what that means lol, but a lot of things are being supported for you. Just know that, I heard something about "I'm sorry" as well, "I supported you the best I could" this could be a family member of some kind that passed away. Idk. Sorry about the add-on! Bye pile ii ! <3

pile iii

Keep your head up, you’re in a heavily creative energy right now and they need you to understand that. For some reason I feel called to the inky blackness of the sky in the pile photo, darkness is what existed before the creation of existence. This is something we hear in MULTIPLE religions and belief systems, darkness is ALSO the chaos. So all of this chaos around you can be bent to your will, but you have to actually believe in yourself and be strategic. You’re allowed to have flaws or faults, but for the next 6-8 months you need to remain determined. Sit with water, sit with plants, sit with god or your ancestors or who or whatever. You could be favored by Adonai(yhwh) but for some reason I felt called to call him Adonai. Perhaps you should pray to Adonai, I see he wants to help you but you must first call on him. If you’ve been feeling a hankering for frankincense smells that may be because of him.

I sense a lot of adventure coming your way, but they need you to brace yourself and handle the anxiety. Don’t be afraid, you have to stop conjuring your worst fears. When you feel afraid say “show me how good it can get”. “Prove me wrong, prove my fear wrong”, you have a hell of a lot more support than you think and it’s time to wake up to that reality and bloom. The skies can only stay rainy and cloudy for so long- but it’s up to you to make the sacrifices to bring forward your desires. 💚

Some of you could feel drawn to pile 1, there may be some messages there for you ngl. ANYWHO, I see here that you are seeking love, and I think that they are trying to get you to understand that you have to transform to meet this potential. There are a lot of interpersonal things you struggle with and they are urging you to stop letting this get in the way of your success. You have to be more self reliant and self dependent, you need to be self starting and a go getter. Don't be afraid of being told no, because I'm hearing "if there's a will there's a way" I do sense this will be much easier than you think, it just may take a lot of foot work/heavy lifting and you may have to think cleverly to get what you need. You could be perceiving more stagnation than there is, there has to be a transformation in how you view "home", home is where the heart is- home is not always how you might see it.

I see that there is some kind of transformation happening in a home or around the concepts of the home in some way? You have ancestral support in what you want, that may be the message that was trying to come through regarding the home actually. Your ancestors don't want you to fear anything, they're going to help you- potentially with a lawyer for some? I heard immigration as well, so some of you could be trying to speak to migration lawyers. I heard "be blessed and know that you are loved" they are going to help you with a lot of this foot work ngl, Some of you may have an enemy working against you, your spirits are advising you to continue pushing for what you desire. This person literally can't stop you, I think you don't understand how actually powerless they are. There could be some kind of spiritual blockage stopping this person from causing personal harm to you. Do your best to dream about your desires, to dream of the best outcome- it will help so much.

Be more positive, be more outgoing- this seems to be the people from pile I who struggle with faith and inner strength. I heard "honesty" as well, so don't be afraid to bite if you have to. Don't be afraid to call people out, to have high standards and expectations- just figure out what those standards or expectations are. I heard "your own personal hell is awaiting you in the depths of your mind" you have to learn to control this part of yourself, you have to maybe LITERALLY avoid that part of your mind and work physically and in the world around you to actively prove it wrong so it shuts the hell up.

#tarot community #tarot online #tarot reading #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #askbox #pac tarot #pick a picture

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uyuforu · 4 months ago

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Astro Observations XI: North Node Edition ꒰ঌNatal Chart໒꒱

Pictures found on Pinterest, Dividers from Tumblr; Credits go to owners.

꒰ঌ Felt like doing a little post about North Nodes, and how it manifested on some people I know around me. Thought it would be fun and just a small silly post. ໒꒱

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⋆˙⟡ The North Node in Natal Chart will often tell us our destiny and purpose, but do not think this is necessarily easy. The NN often is about what we are meant to achieve and learn in this life, but this is in fact a lot of times considered as a lesson. The thing is, what we already know is our South Node, and so we could tend to often feel safe where it is placed (opposite your North Node). In this life, you are so meant to do the total opposite of what you already know, meaning something you don't know already, and for most people this means it can be quite scary or uncomfortable. Though, you shouldn't worry about it, because life will always bring you to the right track to your North Node.

⋆˙⟡ Taurus 7H North Node makes you have a purpose here related to relationships, mostly creating a healthy, strong, stable and long term connection with your romantic connections. This could be a true challenge because you could attract people who aren't good for you, toxic, or you could also deal with a lot of fears when it comes to relationships. You could have a lot of easy time to be on your own, and in fact you could often think you are better alone. But this placement suggests that you can also find harmony and peace, and a grounded environment in a relationship.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Groom (51029)/ Briede (19029) (for you) seems to be a sign you are meant to be a spouse, to get married. There is a lesson in being married for you in this life. Or being married will make you be close to your purpose here.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Boda (1487) seems to be the same as the previous observation.

⋆˙⟡ Capricorn 5H North Node could be a purpose to be more creative in the work place, or just bring more assertiveness to your hobbies and creativity. You could also be destined to be a parent, but mostly to be more responsible and disciplined when having fun. It is knowing to balance your responsibilities and your hobbies. You could be so meant to have a fulfilling career but without forgetting your hobbies, or your children, or even be including creativity in your work.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Groom/ Briede (for your Spouse) means your Spouse will play a major role in your purpose in this life.

⋆˙⟡ Aquarius 9H North Node is a North Node that implies having to detach from other people's beliefs and open up to spirituality. You could need to learn lessons on accepting to think different or accepting people who think in a different way from you. Your South Node Leo 3H could make you use to be seen as relatable or influencing others with your mind and ideas. But here you are not supposed to be heard or seen, you are supposed to accept and learn about a much more philosophical and vague theme. This is often a sign you'll need to be more open minded, focus more on intuition rather than facts.

⋆˙⟡ Aquarius 8H North Node means you'll have to detach from the money aspect of your life. This could be a quite stressful placement to have as a North Node since your South Node is in Leo 2H. You could be used or feel very safe when you have money, or living in a world where buying, possessing and consuming is what you prefer. But in this life, you are asked to detach from this, to give more than to receive. You could so need to detach from money, accepting money does not buy happiness. This is also a placement that suggests detaching from what society asked you to learn, and see beyond, make your own judgments and opinions.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Mars could be a sign you'll have a strong ambition towards your North Node, and perhaps even aligning with your North Node can make you feel more energized and ambitious.

⋆˙⟡ Virgo 12H North Node is a quite deep and hard to understand to be honest. You could be meant to care and "organize" things in private, in the dark. Virgo is all about analyzing, thinking, finding out, the data caretaker, but the 12H is about the unseen, unheard, but also the spiritual realm, anything which is not from this world. To be honest, this is a hard placement to have since Virgo opposite Pisces (rules over the 12H). But your South Node is the same= Pisces 6H. In this case, you could be meant to look at what is hidden, spirituality, anything like this with a more analytical and grounded mind. This means that you could be more meant to use you rationality on this topic, while you could be used to bring a sense of dreaminess in the routine of the world (Pisces 6H South Node).

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Moon could make you have a sense of feeling comfortable the more you get closer to your destiny, you could feel like when you are out of touch to it, you could feel uneasy and sad, not feeling safe at all. But the more you are in touch with it, the more you feel safe, happy, good. Your emotions could also strongly depend on that as well. You could also be quite sensitive to the topic of your destiny.

⋆˙⟡ Leo 10H North Node, so this placement suggests that you'll have a destiny to be seen and noticed. You could be meant to be in front of the stage, to be a main character, to perhaps even have fame. Meant to have a success, to have money, but this may not be so easy for you. Your South Node being in Aquarius 4H, you are more used to be a free spirit, without caring much what people think of you. The 4H also suggests you are more comfortable in the private sphere, but here you are asked to be seen and to even perform and succeed in front of others. This can be a quite stressful thing for you, but you shouldn't be scared to be seen. This placement can also strongly attract jealous people, but do not be scared to shine. Moreover, you shouldn't feel bad for being meant to succeed.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Part of Fortune is a very fortunate placement to have, often a sign the more you are aligned with your North Node, the happiest and luckiest you'll be. Things will align. more easily if you go according to your NN.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Sun is a sign you'll have a strong self development when you are on the right track to your North Node. You could feel like life is asking you to accept to be seen, to be successful and to just be noticed.

⋆˙⟡ Scorpio 7H North Node could mean that you are perhaps feeling better on your own usually, in a sense that you could often think you are better alone, feeling often more grounded "on your own" (South Node Taurus 1H). But in this life, you'll be asked to in fact accept the deepness of connections. Perhaps you'll also need to live transformative experiences when it comes to relationships. You are asked to accept that you also need others to work out well, and being "on your own" all the time is not necessarily the solution. You could also perhaps have connections that will transform you and you'll need to also accept that being connected to others can have influence on you. You'll need connections to develop your trust in others, and accept you can indeed dive deep in a connection with someone and feel safe still.

⋆˙⟡ Taurus 1H North Node could mean you'll need to achieve a life where you feel comfortable on your own. This doesn't mean you'll be single this life, in fact with your South Node Scorpio 7H, you'll perhaps tend to have a hard time to let go of certain connections despite if they can be toxic. But you'll always have an easy time finding connections, friendships or romantic, but here, your life purpose is to accept and feel comfortable on your own. To not depend on anyone, to be grounded and happy even on your own. It means being comfortable with yourself.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Pluto means you'll have to live a strong and powerful transformation through your purpose this life. You are most likely going to transform your life because of the house placement. Depends on the North Node and House placements.

⋆˙⟡ Capricorn 2H North Node could be a life path that is really focused on the material wealth and possessions. You could have a purpose in this life to focus on your wealth, perhaps even be mature and protective over your possessions, but also perhaps embrace having money and power. Your South Node being in Cancer 8H, you could tend to be too generous with your money, or not necessarily liking money that much, but this life could ask you to embrace money and accept it is not always bad to have it. You could also need to mature up with your possessions and be the one bringing money to your family in this life.

⋆˙⟡ North Node conjunct Neptune could mean your purpose in this life will require you to use or develop your imagination or your intuition. You could also have a destiny linked to spirituality, or develop it.

⋆˙⟡ Scorpio 2H North Node could be about you needing to focus on money and material wealth, possessions in this life, but perhaps also about the relationship you have with money. Your South Node in Taurus 8H could make you quite grounded but also dependent on others when it comes to money. While Scorpio 2H will ask you to develop an independence when it comes to your money. You'll be the one gaining money, you'll need to so depend on no one when it comes to money.

⋆˙⟡ Aries 3H North Node could be about you being more assertive in your words and thoughts, to not be scared to argue or to be bold with your opinions. Embrace your point of view and your thoughts. While this can be quite hard for you since the South Node in Libra 9H could be about you being a peace maker and being someone who under others a lot, and be quite open minded.

⋆˙⟡ Aries 4H North Node could be that you often feel quite comfortable with being a peace creator, being perhaps also seen and having a very good reputation. Though, in this life you'll be asked to be more private and to feel more secure within yourself. You could so need to be more confident with being yourself, without the need to please nor to make people life you. Do not focus on what others think of you, rather focus on the desire to please yourself with who you are.

⋆˙⟡ Leo 5H North Node is quite a fun North Node to have in my opinion, this could def be about embracing Leo's nature in my opinion, enjoying the fun in life, enjoying romance, and flirting as well. With the South Node in 11H, you could be more used to be friendly with everyone, and focus on friendships while in this life, you'll need to also accept flings, have more experiences in flirting and romance. You could perhaps found yourself being popular and very attractive to others, and this could be something you could have a hard time to understand or simply you could often mistaken friendship with romantic interactions.

⋆˙⟡ Pisces 2H North Node could ask you to be more self confident on your intuition. Perhaps you are used to be more logical with your South Node Virgo, more when it comes to your mind and decisions, perhaps thinking more about psychology in a logical way. This life, you'll need to def focus more on your intuition and perhaps even develop your creativity or intuition related to your money or related to your self worth and confidence. You'll need to fulfill your dreams related to money as well.

Thank you for Reading!

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soft-pine · 8 months ago

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when i think about this scene from 15.15 it makes me want to chew glass and tear up the walls in rage.

AMARA: I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person, that the myth you'd held onto for so long of a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life.

for the record i want to say i am a known amara-hater. don't like the non-con shit. don't like that she's doing what so many beings in spn do and narrativizing dean's life back at him while judging him because she drew the wrong conclusions. but i think fandom does have a tendency to take those claims at face value because that is easier than combing back through to check if it's correct or not. (see for example, rachel saying dean only calls cas when he needs him in 6.18. narrativizing, incorrectly. but i digress)

so let's talk about mary. because, through the seething rage, i think two main things about this claim. 1. dean does not have this mythos around mary and 2. mary has arguably more of that mythos around dean.

first off, we'll tackle the claim that it's a myth that if mary hadn't died, dean wouldn't have a better life. because that is absolute, utter, dogshit. OF COURSE HE'D HAVE A BETTER LIFE. while i will always maintain that clearly mary and john were far from stable before she died, her death was what speared john forward into hunting, into turning his kids into soldiers, into neglect and parentifying, and every other god forsaken thing he did. "a better life, a life where she lived, was just that, a myth" - girl, i DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE DIVINE, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

like please don't come here acting like dean grieving the future he could have had that didn't include him taking care of his younger brother alone in motel rooms for days while maybe actually being left as bait for the Kid-Eater is a character flaw on his part that he needs to learn better from.

next, amara claims dean needs to see the "real, complicated Mary."

but hasn't he? dean goes back in time and meets his mom in 4.03 and 5.13. and both times he treats her both as a competent hunter and a colleague. like to be clear, before that, i dont think he was wrong to be relying on a four-year-old's memory of what his mom was like because that's literally all he had access to. but dean actually did meet and interact with the whole, complex woman who was his mother long before amara decided to teach him a lesson with her as the homework. in both 4.03 and 5.13, dean tries to give mary advice to save her life but he doesn't belittle her experience hunting or her desire to leave and life a normal life. i don't know what more you want from him in terms of interacting with his mom as a whole, real, complex person?

this also applies wholly and completely to his interactions with her when she returns in s12. he apologizes for being nervous for her safety (AFTER SHE WAS JUST RESSURECTED) at first. mary says she wants to hunt, dean gets on board. mary says she needs space, dean asks clarifying questions to best support her request. he gets mad at her not for being who she is or needing what she needs but for lying to him for months and working with people who tortured him and sam.

in fact, s12 is what i would point to to indicate how well dean articulates and navigates the nuance of being hurt by someone's actions while still understanding and empathizing with why they did it and forgiving them. for example, he says this in 12.04

DEAN: This whole mom thing, it's... I mean, we get her back, and then she leaves. I hate it, but I get it. I do. I guess I'm just...still working through some of that crap. I'll try to be less of a dick about it.

[you're not a dick, dean, ilu]

in fact, dean's much maligned "how 'bout for once, you just try to be a mom?" isn't even about dean wanting anything particularly maternal from mary. it's about him not wanting her to ditch them to hunt alone and/or with the aforementioned torturers.

so circling back to amara's speech about expectations and myths. cause while her words do not apply to dean. amara's speech does remind me of something that happens upon mary's return in s12. these lines from 12.03:

DEAN: Mom, it's okay. All right? You're home now. MARY: No. I'm not. I miss John. I miss my boys. SAM: We're right here, mom. MARY: I know. In my head. But I'm still mourning them as I knew them. My baby Sam. My little boy Dean. Just feels like yesterday, we were together in heaven, and now...I'm her, and John is gone, and they're gone. And every moment I spend with you reminds me every moment I lost with them.

of course she has every right to grieve the time she lost with her kids. but someone in this room is having trouble really looking at the people in front of them because of their idealized memory of who they were compared to are and It Is Not Dean.

and i just think about dean's speech in 12.22. cause it wasn't dean that needed to see the real mary. it was mary, tucked away in her dream world where sam is a baby and dean is a little elementary schooler who likes pie and has never held a gun, who needed to see the real dean.

#dean studies #to be clear i am not blaming mary for the insane and impossible challenge of navigating being resurrected #dean and mary #amara also says she wanted dean to get less angry #which is a skill issue on her part #the correct response to seeing dean angry is putting gold stars on his behavior chart and giving him a kiss on the head #yeah mary it is #one of my top 10 dean lines of all time #i love you forever boundary boy #15.15 #4.03 #5.13 #12.03 #12.22

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 10 days ago

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heya!! im not sure if someone asked this before, but i'm curious.

lilia's face is canonically in the school textbook, right? so, why was everyone so surprised when he revealed that he was 700 years old? is it just a mistake on twst's part, or is it because the 'school textbook lilia' was never a thing(not canon)?? or maybe because he looks and acts so drastically different back then (even tho his name is still the same), and everyone's like, "no way it's this guy. it has to be someone else."???

also, im just imagining students hunting lilia if they ever have to write an essay about him..😭 or if he ever read the textbook and complains to trein about it 'not being accurate' lol

I talked about this topic back in 2021, but that was way before the book 7 came out. Let’s discuss it again with the new information we have on hand!

For context, “This textbook had a picture of Lilia" detail comes from one of Malleus’s Magic History lines when he is in a Lesson.

Please note his wording! Malleus mentions only a picture of Lilia. There is no further description of how detailed it is.

This means the “picture of Lilia” could be framed in a way where it’s difficult to see his face in full or clearly. He could be at a weird angle or shown from behind. Lilia could be wearing his bat mask in the picture (thereby obscuring his face), and only Malleus recognizes it because of his age. Notably, his hairstyle was also different back then. (In book 7, Silver and Sebek did not seem to immediately recognize Lilia in uniform when he has the bat mask on, at least not until they see his magearm and the shining bird flying around him.)

Malleus also does NOT mention there is a passage associated with the picture in the textbook. This means there isn’t necessarily information written in the textbook about Lilia or his accomplishments. It seems possible, given the lore that not much is known about Briar Valley outside of it.

In book 7, Rook (someone who is typically very observant and easily able to gather intel on others) is along the students shocked to find out Lilia’s true age. He confesses that he believed Lilia’s remarks to be “unusually sagacious for an 18-year old”. Rook also states that he knew fae lived for a long time, but “never imagined it was on that scale.”

This implies to me that most humans (which includes humans, beastfolk, and merfolk) don’t seem to properly register or process how long fae lifespans truly are and assume Lilia just acts oddly. Humans don’t think of it on “that scale” because it’s so many times greater than their own lifespans. So to them, they don’t assume “yeah, this must be the same guy” if they see a similar-looking picture or name in a book. Most humans still can’t wrap their minds around someone having lived got that long and it being a “normal” thing for fae.

If there does happen to be a passage mentioning Lilia by name (which, again, we do not have confirmation of), I think most students wouldn’t think much of it?? They may assume it’s an ancestor of Lilia’s or even an unrelated individual since 1) it’s possible for people to have lookalikes and other 2) it’s possible for people to name their children after ancestors or famous individuals. They’re thinking within their OWN frame of reference and not from a fae’s frame of reference.

Actually 💦 when I think about it, I’m not sure why Lilia even felt like he had to hide his relationship with Silver or never mention his age until book 7 (in the spring of his THIRD year)??? I can see how it could make things socially awkward for his son, but why hide the age…? Especially when Lilia makes little effort to hide it (he talks about his life experiences so openly to peers like Trey) and even casually shares the fact in book 7. It’s also made clear that Crowley was aware of Lilia’s age as well (and still allowed him in because he wanted to learn)??? It feels like the devs wrote it like this just to have a funny and dramatic reveal rather than for any logical in-universe reason.

I’m sure Lilia wouldn’t mind sharing stories of his youth with peers if they asked? Trein might not appreciate him claiming the history books are wrong, though.

… Now I’m just picturing Lilia like this when he sees himself in a textbook:

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Malleus Draconia #Rook Hunt #book 7 spoilers #flynn rider #notes from the writing raven #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Diasomnia #question #Dire Crowley #Mozus Trein

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freyaphoria · 1 year ago

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Run Away Together (Part I)

tw: Yandere Hongjoong, kidnapping, hwa is kidnapped too, food mentioned, manipulation, blood, gun, torture mentioned, family issues mentioned, slightly seongjoong but idk what are they too, yandere seongjoong x reader

wc: 2318

a/n: Hello! I think most people don't like the yandere theme, should I stop writing in this theme? Idk I should continue writing or not, so if you give me feedback, i would be happy :,)

Yandere!Matz masterlist

you can read the side story here

a day with them

next part ->

"If Hongjoong saw what you were doing, he would tear us both apart." You jumped so much at the sound you heard that you almost lost your balance. You suddenly turned around and looked at the dark corridor where the voice came from. "Seonghwa please, let me go.” Seonghwa was walking towards you with slow and silent steps. You really didn't want to think about what Hongjoong would do to both of you if he found out you had escaped from your room

Seonghwa was always more tolerant in your relationship; He was the best option between the two in your emotionally weak times. Hongjoong, on the other hand, was more strict and rule-making. Seonghwa would relax Hongjoong's rules for you when he wasn't around. Out of the two of them, the idea of kidnapping you came from Hongjoong and Seonghwa felt guilty towards you for not being able to stop his idea. That's why he treated you more gently.

"Angel, don't make things difficult and come here." As he walked towards you, you took a step back. "Seonghwa, let's run away together. He's not at home anyway. He won't know until we go to the police." You said in a pleading tone as you reached your hands forward and tried to stop him. "Police? Even the nearest grocery store is 3 hours away from here. We might even fall prey to wolves in the forest while trying to escape." You stopped when your back hit the outside door. "Don't you have a phone?" Tears filled your eyes as you realized he wasn't going to help you. Seonghwa was your only friend here and you thought maybe he could help you out. "Remember, I was once his victim, just like you. He destroyed my phone in front of my eyes when he brought me here." He reached out a hand to you and caressed your cheek. "Why don't you give in and try loving him? Believe me, he's not someone to hate." Isn't he someone to hate? You harshly removed Seonghwa's hand from your cheek. "Hwa, he kidnapped us! Are you aware of th-"

"If you treat him like that again, I will teach you a lesson you will never forget."

You lost your balance backwards when the door behind you suddenly opened and Hongjoong grabbed you by your arms harshly from behind. "As if trying to escape wasn't enough, you also tried to persuade Hwa, and on top of that, you were rude to him. Know your place." You tried to avoid his grip. "I'm not rude to him, I took his hand away from my cheek. You are exaggerating. And if you're not happy with it, just let me go!" You said all the words in one go, and Seonghwa was praying to stop you from going any further and saying anything.

Hongjoong had the scariest look you had ever seen in your life. He could make anyone do whatever he wanted with just one look. Now he's giving you the same look, waiting for you to kneel in front of him and apologize. But this time you weren't going to fall for his trick. You will walk out that door no matter what the cost.

The door was still open and Hongjoong's grip was gradually loosening. "Angel, don't be stubborn. Come on." Seonghwa gently grabbed your shoulder, trying to pull you inside. Hongjoong's silence scared him too, and he almost knelt down and apologized for you. Hongjoong noticed Seonghwa getting nervous and nodded at him. "Hwa my prince, you go inside and wait for me." Seonghwa instantly listened to his order and went towards the living room. He didn't want you to get hurt, he would have stopped Hongjoong if he could. Hongjoong would include Seonghwa in all your punishments so that he wouldn't forget his place. Him telling Seonghwa to go inside made you panic. "Police, huh? What will you do when you go to the police? Who will believe you?" He took one of his hands from your arm and placed it on your stomach. "Look at you, I take good care of you, I even made you gain weight since you came here. Your hair and clothes are also clean. Who would believe that someone kidnapped you? Do you have proof?"

He was really taking good care of you. He prepared your 3 meals with the highest quality and also provided snacks. Ever since you learned what would happen if you didn't eat with a harsh punishment when you first came here, you had been eating everything on your plate out of fear.

"They will believe me! I have been missing for months. They will definitely ask what happened!" Right now, in Hongjoong's eyes, you were like a child throwing a tantrum because she wanted more candy from her mother. "I've told you a hundred times that no one is looking for you. Your family is very happy to be rid of you." Ah, he started again. His favorite thing was to hit you at your most sensitive point, the problem between you and your family. If you continued to listen to him, he would manipulate you again and make you stay here. So you hit his stomach with your elbow and broke away from his grip. You slipped away from him, went out the open door and ran into the front yard.

The fact that he wasn't following you caught your attention and scared you, but there was no turning back now. It was the first time you had stepped outside in months, and as Seonghwa once said, you were in the middle of the forest and it was pitch black. You couldn't see where you were going and you were constantly losing your balance because the ground was full of large tree roots. The best thing you could do was try to go as straight as you could and keep running until you saw a road or a house.

Hongjoong went to the terrace, watching with amusement as you excitedly tried to escape. One of his favorite things was to give his victims such small hopes and then shatter those hopes. When he first brought Seonghwa here, he tried to escape with all his might. He even tried to fight Hongjoong. But he gave up after a while because he was caught every time. Hongjoong was sure you would be the same.

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong from the terrace door. "Go and bring her to me before she falls and hurts herself." Hongjoong said to Seonghwa without taking his eyes off you. "Me? But I don't know the way. We'd both get lost." He hasn't gone out since he came here, except his small escape attempts. He didn't know the forest too. Hongjoong placed his hand on his forehead in distress and sighed. "Then you two should get lost and be eaten by the wolves, Seonghwa. I told you to go and bring her here." When Hongjoong raised his voice, Seonghwa got scared and immediately went downstairs and took the flashlight. He didn't want to run outside in this cold, so he called out to you. "Angel! Please come here! The forest is too dangerous!" When he couldn't hear a sound from you, he huffed and went outside and started looking around with his flashlight. When he couldn't find any sign of you, he looked up at Hongjoong on the terrace and shrugged. Hongjoong gestured with his hand towards the right and Seonghwa ran towards it.

He wanted this to be over as soon as possible, he ran towards you with all his strength, balancing himself with the illumination of his flashlight. When he took a break to catch his breath, he saw your curled body under a tree and jumped. "Agh! You scared me!" As he approached you, he moved the light to the side so that it wouldn't dazzle you. "Let's go. Hongjoong is angry. Let's not make him more angry." You still had your back turned and were not looking at him. This made Seonghwa shiver and he placed a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. "Angel? Are you oka-" When he looked at you, he saw you staring blankly ahead. "Stop being mysterious and stand up. He's watching us from the terrace. The longer we stay here, the worse it will get."

You turned your head towards Seonghwa. "Hwa, I hear car noises. If we run fast enough, we can catch one and get out of here." Seonghwa leaned towards you and put his hands under your armpits, pulling you to your feet. "Stop talking nonsense. We're in the middle of the forest and there's no driveway here. Like I said, the nearest grocery store is 3 hours away from-" "How do you know? You've never been outside either?" You interrupted him and asked in a whisper. Seonghwa rolled his eyes at you. "I know because Hongjoong said so. Now come on-"

Just then you heard a horn sound.

Seonghwa has never been this deep in the forest before. So he wasn't sure if Hongjoong was telling the truth or if there was a highway around here.

"Did you hear that?" you asked excitedly. It was clear from Seonghwa's surprised face that he heard it too. "No, we shouldn't do this. We shouldn't be here. Hongjoong will kill us." You took the flashlight from his hand and held Seonghwa's arm with your other hand. "Then we will die together. Rest assured, it is better than this life."

You pulled his arm and started running towards the direction of the voice. On the one hand, Seonghwa felt guilty for betraying Hongjoong, but he also wanted to be free. His feet were moving without him realizing it. After a while, he ran ahead and started pulling you. He seemed to want freedom more than you did. He had to take part in all of Hongjoong's crimes. Hongjoong was more obsessed and more brutal when he first kidnapped him, he had tortured Seonghwa for years with all of those aspects, and unlike you, he had no one by his side. After his tortures, he didn't have a friend who could wrap his scars and caress his hair to put him to sleep. Of course he suffered more than you.

"Seonghwa stop! I can't hear!" You stood together, waiting to hear a sound, breathless. There was complete silence and for a moment you thought you were dreaming. "We're sure we heard a horn! Maybe the cars have stopped passing. Let's keep going, we'll definitely find a road!"

Everything happened suddenly. If you ask in seconds, everything happened in 5 seconds.

1 Seonghwa held your hand again

2 You again shined the light of the flashlight in front of you

3 Seonghwa pulled your hand and prepared to run

4 You fell to the ground when something hard stabbed your leg.

5 You felt a warm thick liquid flowing down your thigh.

Since they kept talking about wolves, you first thought that a wolf had bitten your leg. Then, when you didn't see an animal next to you, you looked at Seonghwa. Seonghwa was staring at you on the ground, frozen in place with fear.

"What happened?" You couldn't feel anything because of the adrenaline. You just felt the warmth. "He shot you."

You couldn't see anything left behind because the light falling on the ground illuminated your face. You knew someone was there when Seonghwa lifted his head from you and looked forward. As the person in front of you moved towards you, Seonghwa stepped back.

"Hwa, give me one reason why I should forgive this action.” This bastard... This was the first time Seonghwa had gone this far, so he couldn't think of anything to say and fell to his knees out of habit. "Hongjoong plea-" "Okay, shut up, I'll think about whether to forgive you or not when we get home. Now you..." He turned to you and crouched down next to you. "What should we do with you?" He ran his hands through your hair and caressed it gently; His tone of voice and the fact that he was stroking your hair while you were lying on the ground covered in blood did not match at all.

"Since you are responsible for this, you will suffer the most punishment." He pointed the gun at your head. "Should I kill you and bury you right here or-" He held your hair harshly, lifted your head and looked at you with that scary look again "or do you want to continue living and rot in my basement?"

Seonghwa was watching you with holding his breath. Hongjoong had the potential to shoot you at any moment. "Have I still not taught you that when I ask you a question, you must answer? How good of a person I am. I even offer options." He fake laughed. Seonghwa stepped forward. "Hongjoong! It happened suddenly, we weren't thinking, forgive her." Hongjoong slowly turned his head towards him. "Do you want me to ask you the same question or do you want to shut up?" Seonghwa immediately fell silent and lowered his head.

You slowly started to feel the pain in your leg. "Kill me." He was looking into your eyes so deeply that you could feel his gaze on your soul. "I said kill me! It's better than living with you!" You shouted at him, driven by pain. "Uh wrong answer!" He pulled the gun from your head and held you in his arms. "Put me down! I want to die!" You were so cute when you were having a tantrum, he thought.

"Now, let's go back home and think about what you've done. Hwa my prince, can you hold the flashlight for us?" Seonghwa immediately did as he said.

He prayed for you and for himself along the way.

next part ->

note: English is not my first language. If you find anything ridiculous in what I wrote, you can tell me lol.

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