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Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 14: In The River, Your Reflection, Is A Promise You Couldn’t Keep

Masterlist

Chapter 13 (Part 2) / Chapter 14 (Here!) / Chapter 15

Eastview

Friday

7:46 PM

How do you say goodbye to a place that is not your home, but it still feels wrong to leave it?

To say goodbye to those moments plastered on pictures on the walls, moments you have no memories of, but still feel the nostalgia and significance of them?

To say goodbye to the sounds of the laughs of people that you know are not your parents, but still bring a smile to your face when hearing them?

How do you say goodbye to a house that was never yours?

How do you say goodbye to a place that was never your home?

To the classmates who made you laugh in class. To the neighbors who said good morning when you passed by. To the friends who supported you. To the dog that always stole your shoes as soon as you took them off.

To the dad who held you when the voices in your head got so loud that you just had to burst out crying and screaming.

To the mom who wrapped up your bruised knuckles and cleaned up the shards of mirror on the floor while pushing a cup of warm tea into your hands.

How do you say goodbye to the only world you knew, but never belonged to you?

Billy didn’t know how to say goodbye. He never did. If he did, he wouldn’t have searched for Agatha and the Witches’ Road. He would have let go of his past and stayed all ignorant of the signs around him. Ignore the static behind his ears and the dreams of a shared bedroom and a shapeshifting house. Ignore the foreign words of a lullaby and the humming of wires against his cheek.

Forget about the missing part of him.

Half of him.

Half his heart.

Half his mind.

Half his everything.

But Billy Maximoff didn’t know how to say goodbye. Any Maximoff worth its name would never say goodbye to what they value most. It’s in their blood. It is in their name.

William Kaplan had to say goodbye abruptly. Not even getting a say on it, the moment his parents' car crashed against that tree, and his life was cut short.

He thought about him every day. About how he would have liked to live his life. And he tried to live like him. He tried so hard, just so everyone would stop looking at him like he was ready to fall over, like he was about to break. Stop their thoughts, their pleas of asking some higher power that he would just be back to normal.

But Billy wasn’t William.

He could never be William, and in the darkest part of his head, he was glad he wasn’t.

William had his parents and a life planned out in Westview. He would attend the community college and likely study medicine or a related field. He would never leave the fields of Westview because he had all he needed here. His family. His friends. He didn’t need anything else, and that was fine.

Fine for William, not Billy.

Billy had a thirst for knowledge. He wanted to explore, to learn, and see new things. He doesn’t want a small-town life when there’s a whole world to explore out there. Places to see. Food to eat. People to meet.

People to find, because while Billy wanted to see the world, he didn’t want to do it on his own.

He didn’t want to go on another adventure without her by his side. He didn’t want to have a bedroom that was not split in half with two completely different looks and two messy beds. He didn’t want the painful absence on his left side when eating at the table. He didn’t want to ask the empty air what they think of this book or receive a cold silence when he says a joke.

He wanted weird laughs. He wanted gusts of wind ruffling his hair. He wanted his plate of food to disappear bit by bit while an innocent grin was flashed at him. He wanted playful shoves and tackle hugs and warm fingers and funny comments and-

"Got everythin’ packed up, sugah?"

Billy’s lungs let out a shuddering breath, looking up from his cardboard box filled with his books and materials for the altar he had on the bookshelves. He blinked harshly, making the tears forming back away into his eyes before giving the woman standing by the door of his room a small nod.

“Yeah, this is the last box.” He said with a sigh.

The woman, tall, with big brown reddish hair and a white streak framing the front of her face, softened her gaze as she stared at Billy’s fumbling fingers while he tried to tape shut the box.

Anne Marie couldn’t help the wave of nostalgia that hit her.

It had been quite a few years back when she had met someone with the same demeanor. Same curious gaze. Same nose scrunch when receiving answers they don’t like. Same dimpled smile.

Maybe she was missing Wanda a bit too much. She hadn’t stopped seeing all these small things and actions that reminded her of her friend since she and Remy made their way into the Kaplans’ house.

Especially around the boy.

"Ain’t no need to pack it all, darlin’,” She chuckled, making her way inside the room. “You’ll come back soon, won’tcha?"

Billy shrugged, nudging away the box with his foot and sitting down on the side of his bed. His fingers were rubbing the fabric of the sheets in a moment of thought.

“Yeah, sure.” He muttered.

A man wandered into the room. He wore a long, dark brown trench coat and dark shades despite it being dark outside already. He had long brown hair and a stubble, accompanied by a devilish grin.

“Hope dat’s da last of it, else dis ol’ ride ain’t startin’ come mornin’.” He teased, making Billy snort and nod at the man. He still struggled to understand what he said most of the time, but Remy was a chill guy and fun to be around, so he just went along with whatever the man said.

"Go on now, put it in the trunk.” Rogue badgered, patting Remy roughly on the back when he passed by her. “Liftin’ somethin’ heavier than your pride might do ya some good."

Remy grunted while picking up the box, nudging his head toward Rogue while complaining to Billy. “See now? Dis woman treat me no better than a pack mule, I swear.”

Billy laughed while Rogue scoffed and failed to knee Remy on the side, the man dodging with ease as he blew her a kiss and sauntered out the door.

"Ah swear, he’s got a talent for drivin’ me up the wall." She muttered, making Billy chuckle.

“I think it’s cute, don’t you? ” He says, leaning back on the headboard of his bed.

Rogue snorts, nodding towards the empty spot near him. Billy nods with a small smile, letting her sit down with a sigh. "Let’s just say if Ah didn’t find it cute, we’d be plannin’ a funeral, not a weddin’."

Billy looks down at her hands. She was wearing deep green leather gloves with a slight bump on the ring finger of her left hand. He looked back at her, hugging one of his pillows close to his chest.

“Must be nice,” he said. “How long have you been together?”

"We’ve had our ups an’ downs, sure… but we made it,” Rogue’s tone turned soft and fond, eyes glinting as a smile was drawn to her lips while looking down at her hands, fingers tracing where the ring should be. “Been ‘bout three years now since we got engaged."

That made Billy curious.

“Three years? Why wait for so long?” He asked, eyebrows scrunching.

Maybe it was invasive to ask. Maybe he was out of line, and it was none of his business. But something in those words made his skin itch in question.

Rogue, gladly, didn’t take any offense at his questions. With a longing and sad expression, she answered.

“Ah’m just waitin’ on a friend to come back… Been a while, but Ah got faith."

Billy was probably exaggerating, but he felt as if all the air in his lungs had turned into ice and put a heavy weight on the bones of his ribs.

A friend. Waiting for a friend. For three years.

It wasn’t some calculus problem or riddle; Billy knew enough to piece all the missing parts of that sentence.

He knew Wanda was part of a hero group before Westview. Anyone would suppose she was a candidate for the Justice League, or worked on some type of underground missions, or was simply some non-official member due to her past alienation with The Brotherhood.

Billy, who had learned not to believe all the bullshit people spat around on the internet when it came to Wanda Maximoff, had the hunch that some information was not being revealed to the public.

The way the Justice League simply put the whole Westview accident under the rug was questionable enough for him.

And when people started targeting the mutants simply because the Scarlet Witch was one of them, his views around the Justice League began to change.

Why the silence? Why the avoidance? Why was nobody standing up and saying something about it? Why was nobody stopping it?

Sure, there had been some members of the League standing for mutants. The Flash was one of them and the loudest, given the fact that his city was one of the first places to have programs to accommodate and help mutants and metas equally. Central City had refugees, residences, hospitals, and employment offices that helped them out. And the citizens of the city were also the most welcoming when it came to mutants, since many families had gone as far as to sign up for fostering mutant kids or even other families.

And then there was Superman as well, who had a newspaper powerhouse like the Daily Planet sharing stories about mutants and lately interviewing civil rights activists that brought on more backstory on how mutants had been treated in the past.

A few more had stood up for them, but from Billy’s view, it felt as if nothing was having an effect.

People were still afraid. People were still angry. And scared and angry people hurt other people.

People like mutants.

People like him.

People like Wanda.

So, Billy decided he needed more information before forming a real opinion on the woman who started this whole drama. And he needed a trusted source. Not Agatha, who changed words and stories to her gain and favor even while being a ghost. Not the internet, which had a twisted view and an obvious lack of common sense and judgment on the subject.

He needs someone who knows about her. Who knows her personally. Who can tell him about her rights and wrongs? Not a filtered version of her. Just who she truly was.

Human. Broken and with flaws, but still human.

“Your friend,” He stuttered, knuckles rasping against his jeans. “What was she like?”

Rogue’s eyes widened at his words, then she frowned. "Ah said Ah was waitin’ on a friend, didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout who or what they were."

“Lucky guess?” He said with a shrug and a shaky smile.

The woman twisted her torso towards him, bringing her leg up to the bed and laying it over the sheets while she silently analyzed his nervous fidgeting. Her gaze turned calm, bringing some control to her inner turmoil.

"Ah know you got them mind-readin’ powers, but it ain’t right pokin’ ‘round in folks’ heads without askin’-”

“I wasn’t! I just-” He stopped himself, biting his lip and walking towards the door of his room and closing it.

He didn’t want anyone else overhearing what he was about to say.

His fingers tapped on the wood, gathering his thoughts before taking a deep breath and turning around to look at Rogue, who looked at him patiently from her spot. Billy took a few steps before stopping, playing with his hands, and starting to pace around the room.

“It’s gonna sound crazy what I’m about to say, but I swear, it’s all true.” He stammered out, not looking at her as he counted in his head to calm down.

"Ah’m all ears, darlin’. What’s got ya so worked up?" Billy could feel the concern in her tone.

He looked at her and clicked his tongue, hands fidgeting at his sides. “I- I just, I don’t even know how to start or what to say…”

They stayed quiet for a few moments before Rogue stood up with a sigh and walked to stand in front of Billy. She took his hand, the leather creasing under his sweaty palms, and soothing the trembling on his fingers. Billy looked up at her, eyes wide and filled with anxiety.

"You don’t gotta say a word, sugah… but Ah need ya to trust me, just for a moment, alright?" Her voice brought on some calm over him, like a warm blanket.

Should he trust her? Probably not. But he had no other choice.

He needed to know more about Wanda, and she had answers.

All in or nothing.

Billy nodded. With that, Rogue took out her glove, the one with the ring. It was a silver band with a pretty diamond shaped like an oval, accompanied by three smaller ones on each side. Her hand moved up to his cheek, hovering over it by a few inches and feeling the warmth emanating from it.

"This might hurt just a li’l, but Ah’ll be quick." She said before making contact with his skin.

Then it all went black.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

The sunlight was hitting just right in her eyes.

That was reason enough to hate it with all her might because she was having the greatest sleep she had had in a while now.

No weird halls. No screams. No collapsing houses. Just a plain dreamless sleep.

And now the sun dared to interrupt it with its shining glory, daring to let her know it was the time to get her ass up and face another dreadful day in this forsaken world.

Well, it wasn’t only the sun at fault.

The screaming match down the hall was also to blame.

Sitting up on the bed while wiping off the string of drool coming from the corner of her lips, Maximoff rubbed her sleep-swollen eyes with a groan, stretching her back and grunting when her spine and bones popped nicely. She scratched her head, feeling the knots that formed from her twisting and turning on the pull-out couch last night.

She sat there on the mattress for a moment, dozing off before getting hit in the face with a floating pillow. Her arms flailed around as she grumbled to herself and moved to the side of the bed, flinching when her feet made contact with the cold floor.

“‘m up, I’m up,” she growled out, standing up while scratching her growling stomach underneath the Gotham’s Knights sweatshirt Barbara lent her. She also rolled the waist of her pants, having the legs of it dragging over the floor as she walked towards the hallway bathroom to splash some cold water on her face.

“-it’s not how you are supposed to act when shit like this happens! You need to talk it out, not act like it’s some world-ending threat!”

Barbara’s voice was heard from the bedroom, the exasperation and anger echoing on the walls and reaching the bathroom. Maximoff flipped the switch on, eyes widening at her reflection on the mirror. A bird nest would be a compliment compared to whatever the hell was going on with her hair.

“Sweet Jesus,” She muttered, flipping on the water and splashing it on her face.

“-don’t care! She doesn’t need you wearing that; she is not some criminal that has to face justice! She is your daughter, and what she needs is her dad acting like one for once in her life-”

Damn, that sounds like a mess. Good thing it’s not about-

“What I do for my daughter is none of your concern, Barbara.”

Maximoff froze at the rough and cold tone of the man’s voice coming down the hall. The sound made the edges of the rattle a bit, making her eyes catch on Wayne’s figure, who was floating by the door with a horrid expression on her face. They made eye contact, and Maximoff could tell they had the same thought.

Oh shit, that is our mess.

“This is my house, Bruce.” Barb’s voice sounded calm, but the girls could tell it was more than that. They quietly peeked out of the bathroom door, trying to look through the small view that the slight opened door of Barbara’s bedroom provided. All they could see were the silhouettes of them.

“And since this is my home, you will abide by my rules.” Her voice demanded. “You want to talk to her here? Fine, but you will do it without the suit.”

Maximoff turned her head up towards Wayne, who hovered above her. She spoke in a harsh, whispered tone.

“Suit?! What suit?!”

Wayne didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled her from the back of her sweatshirt and shoved her inside the bathroom. The door slammed closed, the loud noise catching the attention of the people in the other room.

Barbara approached the door of her room and pushed it open slightly, looking down the corridor and noticing the light coming from beneath the bathroom door. She rolled her chair back and closed the door completely this time before turning around to look at the disgruntled, tired-looking Bruce, who stood by her unmade bed.

And Bruce was still wearing the damned Batman suit.

He had been here since four in the morning. Give or take, because Barbara did not want to know which exact hour he broke into her home and simply stood around until she woke up.

But not only did he ignore her last text and invade the privacy of her home, but he was also behaving way out of any rational thought.

Bruce was not acting like… himself.

She was not getting why he would just show up at the crack of dawn, full bat suit and cowl, claiming that she was enabling his daughter’s reckless attitude and saying that it was her fault that the girl wasn’t talking to him.

It had been a hellish morning.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Barbara’s mornings usually started around six in the morning, but today seemed to be a day different than the others, mostly because she woke up to the sound of familiar footsteps pacing down the corridor of her apartment.

She had gotten more than used to Bruce’s heavy footsteps creaking on the hardwood floor after years of working with him.

And she had been pretty clear that none of the bats were supposed to come to her home last night.

Barb grumbled to herself, grabbing onto the handles of metal attached to the frame of the bed, pulling up her torso, and sitting on the mattress. Her wheelchair was locked by her nightstand, always having it nearby so she could just push herself up and sit down on the chair without any issues.

She made her way out of the room and into the corridor, finding an… odd scene.

Bruce was crouching down by the pull-out couch, his back turned to Barbara’s view. He was staring directly at the lump on the bed, the girl curled underneath the blue navy blanket Barb gave her for the night. She was snoring softly, body moving up and down with each short but soft breath.

His gloved hand was brushing off a few curls away from her face, fingers fleetingly tracing the cheeks and the shape of her nose before two fingers settled in between her jaw and the beginning of her neck.

A few moments passed until he took his hand away and stood up at full height, and turned around to look at Barbara’s still figure in the hall.

“I told you to give her space.” She whispered as he took quiet steps towards her, looking over his shoulder every couple of seconds to the bed.

“And I need to talk to her.” He whispered back, but his voice still managed to send chills down her back with how detached it sounded, directed to her.

Barbara had been at the end of Batman’s glare a couple of times before she was Batgirl. The bright white of the cowl covering the eye lenses added to the presence that the suit brought. Nobody could see his eyes. No one could tell what he was thinking. What expression he was making. And humans rely on expression, which helps read people since the eyes are the windows of the soul.

Barbara knows the main purpose of the white lenses; she even approved them. It was another safety measure taken to keep their identities safe. But it also detached them from people. From connecting.

Barbara also knows the darker purpose of the white lenses. Even used it before while interrogating criminals.

Intimidation.

And that’s what Bruce was doing at this very moment. In her own house and under her own roof.

She was not working with that. Not at all. So she motioned to him with her hand to make his way down the corridor to her room. Whatever he saw in her furious expression was enough to make him move with a grumble and disappear through the hall. Before she followed, Barbara took a glance at the sleeping girl.

The sun was starting to rise, the rays of light still too weak to illuminate the room, but Barbara swore she could have seen the shadow of someone standing by the couch. Just hovering above her guest.

But it was gone in the blink of an eye.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

And from the moment Barbara made her way into her room, Bruce ripped off his cowl roughly and started accusing her of pure filthy nonsense.

He was not making any type of sense, and it was both a pain and a worry to see.

‘Did you tell her to make no contact? We have been trying to get a hold of her the whole night.’

‘Why did she come here? You are not that close. She would have gone to the manor if she hadn’t been feeling well.’

‘How often does she talk to you? How long have you been in contact with her?’

‘Did you know about the recital? Did you tell her to quit? Did you tell her not to tell us?’

Barbara was a second away from shooting him because with each accusing word that left Bruce’s mouth, the more it felt like it was Batman leading an interrogation.

Not a worried father. No, not even close.

So she put a quick stop to this little interrogation scheme and shut him down by bringing up the most obvious fault in this whole situation.

If Bruce wanted to get some answers, he would have to do it as himself.

Not hiding behind the Batman suit.

Because that was exactly what he was doing. Batman always got what he wanted, and by any means necessary. Batman doesn’t make mistakes. He can’t afford to make them. He is calculating, always has an answer and a solution to any mystery, problem, or situation he has ever encountered.

But Bruce doesn’t. Bruce makes mistakes. Bruce has flaws. Bruce doesn’t always have an answer. And Bruce needs to learn that he can’t bring Batman into a situation that’s strictly for Bruce to solve.

Bringing Batman to deal with his teenage, angry daughter would be a recipe for disaster and damage beyond repair.

“Change out of that. There are some sweats that Dick left around in the drawer.” She sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing her tired eyes. “I’m gonna make us some coffee and then let you talk to her alone.”

Bruce didn’t say another word, not even a nod. Just stared at her with those cold eyes until she rolled her eyes and opened the door, closing it behind her as she rolled towards the bathroom door, where the girl of the hour was still hiding.

Barbara could hear some whispers from behind the door, probably the girl talking to herself or something. She knocked on the door, silence suddenly falling on the other side.

“Hey, it’s Barb,” She said, almost laughing at the relieved sigh that the girl let out, smiling when she opened the door and peered out with a disgruntled smile.

“Hey, morning,” she said, gaze wandering around. Probably expecting her father to pop out of nowhere.

It made Barb’s chest fill with a cold stinging sensation.

“Your dad’s here.” She began to explain. “I’m gonna make some coffee, and he wants to sit down and talk with you.”

Her whole face shifted. Lips pressed thin and eyebrows furrowed. The hand on the frame of the door tightened its grip and released it a couple of times.

Barbara didn’t like this reaction, but there was no other choice.

“I’ll be in my room while you two talk. If it gets too much, just say the word and I’ll intervine, alright?” It’s the least she could do, in her opinion. Despite the circumstances being otherwise.

Her eyes widened, put her shoulders didn’t look like they were about to reach above her head anymore. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

The woman shook her head. “It’s no trouble to me. I just want you to be comfortable despite this.”

The two of them looked back at the closed room, hearing some rustling and a couple of curses as something heavy fell on the ground. They snorted when they looked at each other, chuckling quietly as they made their way to the other side of the apartment. Barbara went to the kitchen, starting up the coffee machine while the teen went to the living room to tidy up the place a bit.

Maximoff just needed something to do with her nervous fidgeting hands.

What did Bruce want to talk about? Did he find out about her escapade to Arkham last night? Did he figure out about Wayne being dead for weeks now? About the fact that she is a mutant?

Damn, maybe she was keeping too many secrets.

What about the suit? What did Barb mean by that? Maximoff knew the Waynes were into some shady business.

Her theory? Mafia Family.

Bobby had recommended to her The Sopranos during their nightly movie/series streaming dates after watching The Godfather, and she was connecting all the dots bit by bit.

The way Wayne refused to talk about their nightly activities (because of course, she noticed how the manor was always empty at night-). The fact that Dick was a cop, but was never at his job (A corrupt cop!). How Tim was a high school dropout but still managed the family’s enterprise (He was handling the money laundering. He looked smart like that). That Cass always seemed to follow Bruce’s lead even while at the manor (Could be his right hand or bodyguard! She did seem like she could break somebody’s face with just a punch). God, Damian always mentions being his father’s heir! (That one was obvious).

Jason, maybe he handles the dirty work. That’s why he isn’t always at the house. Plus, he did die and come back to life, so he can’t be out in the public eye. He has no other choice but to do the nasty work!

And Bruce? Head of the family. And he has a special suit to intimidate people. Is it covered in blood, and that’s why Barb yelled at him? Is it a leather coat? She can totally see him in a leather coat-

“Barbara, leave us.”

Maximoff’s mind came to a full stop. All the hairs on her body broke into goosebumps while something whispered in the back of her head dangerdangerdanger. She continued to fold the blanket in her hands at the slowest pace she could while listening to Barb’s wheelchair moving farther and farther away through the corridor.

She tried not to flinch at the chair scraping against the floor, hearing it creak under the weight of the man sitting on it.

A couple of moments passed, all of her senses focusing on the noises behind her.

A ceramic cup getting lifted. The slurping sound. The clicking of it once it was set down again. Fingers tapping against the table.

“Did you sleep well?” His tone was soft, despite the choking tension in the room.

“Yeah.” She uttered, wincing internally at how meek her voice sounded.

Get a grip, girl!

“Good.” He sighed, and suddenly, a chair was moved. “Take a seat.”

Cold sweat formed beneath her sweater, fingers gripping the blanket tightly. “I would rather stand, thank you.”

Silence.

“I wasn’t asking, sweetheart.” It felt as if his tone took the air out of her lungs. “Sit down.”

Maximoff knew she had no choice there. So, she slowly let down the blanket and turned around to finally face him.

He sat at the small dinner table, his huge frame taking up most of the chair. He was wearing some grey sweats that looked a bit tight on him. His hair was a mess, not a single trace of that strong-scented pomade he used to style it. And his face was tired, sunken eyebags more prominent due to some traces of black eyeliner still clinging to his wrinkles.

Since when does a mafia boss use eyeliner?

Bruce pointed at the chair in front of him. Maximoff took slow but heavy steps towards it and sat down on the chair. Her eyes focused on the cup of coffee that was meant for her.

The man took another sip and sighed. “I want to talk. About what’s been going on lately with you.”

Maximoff played with the handle of her cup, trying to look as nonchalant as possible while she was thinking of throwing herself out of the nearest window and ending it all right then and there.

Just so she could escape from this conversation.

“I know that I haven’t been the best father in the past few years,” She took a sip of her drink, holding herself back from saying any biting comment.

Only to fight for her life, not to make a face at the taste of the coffee. She forgot she had never had coffee before, and fuck, it tasted horrible to her.

Burce only continued, gaze focused on his cup. “But, I’m still your father, and there’s some stuff that I still need to know about.”

‘So it’s not about the whole being dead thing. Good.’ She thought, forcing herself to swallow the bitter coffee down her throat. ‘Still, what exactly is this man trying to-’

He lifted his gaze, staring deeply into her eyes. It felt like she was getting pinned down by his stare alone. Like those butterflies that get put in a glass box for display, their wings and torsos trapped by needles. The grey irises trembled each time she moved her gaze slightly to any side, as if about to break if she looked away from him. Daring her to break away from him.

Her fingers sweated, and her leg bounced against the leg of the chair.

“I need you to be honest with me. No half answers or sentences. Just say the truth.”

‘Oh, it’s about Arkham. It’s totally Arkham. I am so screwed.’ She bit inside her cheek, the back of the chair poking against her spine as she fought the instinct to sink into the chair.

Bruce took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, as if thinking of how to get the right words out. “You need to tell me, so I can- god, just-”

He groaned, hands going through his hair and sighing.

Maximoff was about to vibrate out of her seat. ‘It’s the mutant thing. Fuck, it is the mutant thing! I am so fucke-’

“Are you doing drugs?” He said heavily, staring at her with a worried scrunch between his eyebrows.

…What?

“You can tell me,” He swore. “I just need to know so I can help you-”

…Huh?

“If it’s because of those boys you have been hanging out around lately-”

…What is happening?

“-and I know it’s part of my fault because I was not looking out for you as I should, but that is going to change now. We are gonna make some changes, and it will all be-”

“Wait,” She stammered out, holding her hands up and glaring at Bruce with disbelief. “You think I’m doing what now?”

Bruce blinked, his gaze softening suddenly and creeping her out instantly. “Sweetheart, I know you could be ashamed or embarrassed, but you don’t have to-”

“I’m not doing drugs.” She blurted out, and all the anxiety she had was gone at that moment. “I have never touched-”

He looked put off for a second before sighing, “If you are trying to defend those boys-”

But she interrupted him, slamming her hands against the table and knocking the chair off when she stood up abruptly. “Warren and Bobby have nothing to do with this!”

“Stop defending them!” He yelled, standing up as well. All the traces of softness in his gaze were gone in a breath. “You think I haven’t noticed how often you’re not at home? Because you’re with them?”

“They are my friends! I like spending time with them!” She matched his tone, frown deepening and fingers trembling against the table.

“You like being at home! You like being with your family! With us!” His hands, waving around sharply as his tone grew stronger and stronger.

“Well, I don’t anymore! Things change! I changed!” She screamed back, shoving her thumb against her chest.

“Not like this!” He gestured at her. “You don’t just get up one day and change! You don’t simply abandon all that you have worked for years and switch to a completely different thing! You don’t get to do that! Do you know how worried I was when I didn’t see you on the stage? How-”

“How what?” She laughed, heart pounding and feet shaking against the floor. But not in fear. The rushing of blood said otherwise. “How ashamed you were? Did you feel so embarrassed that you wasted your time for nothing? That you had to come face to face with the fact that you don’t know shit about your daughter-”

“Stop putting words in my mouth and listen for once-” Bruce growled out, making her cackle and jump on her spot.

“Or what?! You are finally going to act like you were supposed to? Like a father? Just because you finally can’t deny the truth?” Her tone was taunting, but the pounding behind her head was a warning enough to let her know to be careful.

She was acting too cocky. Saying stuff without thinking about the situation.

But it felt so good. So fucking good to finally say this to his face.

“What is going on here?!” Barbara’s voice cut in, eyes wide at the bomb exploding in her kitchen.

The two of them didn’t even notice that the cups of coffee had spilled all over the table.

“Stay out of this, Barbara!” Bruce yelled, pointing at her before pointing at the girl. “I had enough of this attitude!”

“Oh yeah?” She snarled. She stomped around the table and stood in front of Bruce, her nose almost reaching his jaw, “You had enough of me? Then fucking return me. You got the papers to do it, right? So do it, coward.”

At this point, she wasn’t screaming on his face or yelling.

No, her voice had turned into a quieter tone. Almost like a breeze. A cold winter breeze that cuts the skin when going against it on a hard, snowy day.

And to Bruce, it felt more like a stab.

Had he truly failed his child this deeply?

Was there no going back from this? Had he been so absent that she was beyond any point of return? Of salvation?

Was there no way of getting his sweet girl back? With eyes full of joy and forgiveness? Or was he stuck with the eyes that glared at him with disdain and hurt?

Was Bruce going to lose another child because he was too late to act again?

His hands moved before his mind caught up.

“Wait, Bruce, don’t-!” Barbara yelled in fear, gripping the wall and almost falling out of her wheelchair while trying to reach them. To stop him.

But she wasn’t fast enough. Bruce's hands were already around her. Pulling her towards him.

Unlike what Barbara thought, he wasn’t harming her. Instead, he had wrapped his dear girl in a tight embrace while she stood still in shock. Unable to move. Unable to react or understand what was happening.

“You think your words can push me away, but you’re wrong, sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear, pulling her even closer and closing his eyes. Taking in the moment.

It had been so long since he held her. Hugged her. She had grown so much. Changed so much. Time was the culprit, and so was he. So many missed milestones and moments, slipping through his fingers like the water of a river.

Many broken promises. Promises he couldn’t keep.

But he could make new ones. He could embrace the new moments. Moments he will create from now on, because while part of him knows his sweet girl is still there, he will have to take on this new side of her. Thorns and sharp teeth and all.

Because it was still her.

It was still his daughter.

Still his.

Her nails gripped his sweater, scratching at him and trying to pull away, but he didn’t budge. He gripped her tighter.

“I’m your dad,” He muttered against the crown of her hair, chuckling at the mess of it. “And you are mine. Nothing will change that.”

Maximoff looked at the corner of the room, finding Barbara’s gaze and the fearful expression on Wayne as she hovered over the woman, gripping the wheelchair so she wouldn’t fall off.

Wayne and Maximoff could tell that they were in a whole lot more trouble from now on.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“So, you’re thinking she is getting possessed by a demon?” Tim recited, rubbing his forehead while squinting at Damian.

The boy, still wearing his Robin suit, nodded with his head held high and arms crossed. “I am sure of it.”

“And you,” He sighed while pointing at Cass, who was also wearing her suit. “Think she has developed DID and is now fronting with a protective alter that has it out for us?”

Cassandra stayed still for a moment before answering. “Yeah.”

Tim only groaned, spinning around in the chair of the batcomputer and clicking away on the keyboard. A huge conceptual map was projected on the screen, a three small circles surrounding a bigger one where the name of their sister was written on.

“I need a fucking drink,” Tim muttered. “They can’t all be related; something has to be discarded.”

“Mine is right, I got bruises to prove it, and Cain saw something too.” Damian refuted, taking a few steps closer towards the keyboard.

“What exactly did you see, Cass?” Tim drawled, feeling his eye twitch the longer this conversation dragged on.

They couldn’t see beyond! They couldn’t see what he sees! Tim knows his explanation is the right one. There’s no other reason than the fact that she had been playing them all. He confirmed it with the recital.

He hadn’t even seen it coming! It filled him with so much thrill and excitement!

How meticulously she had planned the whole thing, keeping him on his toes and making him go all the way to try to understand how far she was willing to take this whole scenario. Keeping him guessing about her next move and what else she has planned to keep all of his attention on her.

She was going so far as to confuse the rest of the family!

That got him in a bad mood. He thought this game was all for him and him alone! Why bring the family into this? Why are they blocking his way to reach his goal? She doesn’t need their attention! All she needed was his and his alon-

“The piano room,” Cass uttered, eyes wandering towards the elevator and trailing upwards. “There was music playing in the piano room, but nobody was there. It was that old song she was always practicing.”

Tim stopped typing into the computer, making Damian look at him with a raised brow. He slowly turned to look at Cass with a glint that made her stomach churn.

“...You heard the piano playing?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, feeling irked at the way Tim was looking at her.

He hummed to himself and blinked slowly. “The same old song she plays?”

Cass nodded again, crossing her arms and taking a step forward.

Tim’s head was tinkering around. Cass heard the song, the piano playing. By itself, apparently. When? When did it happen? Was it when he was in the Titans Tower? Did his sister take the chance to play him and give Cass, out of everyone in the family (nothimnothimnothim-), the chance to hear her song just to throw him off guard?

Everyone knows Cass hates noise! So why her and not him?

What was she doing? Another puzzle for him to solve? Another piece to the big enigma that she was hiding this whole time?

He needed more. More questions. More answers.

“And you said that you found a tape under her bed?” His head snapped towards Damian, who scowled at him but nodded.

“Yes. But it’s broken beyond repair.” He said.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tim said, turning once again towards the computer. “I’m sure that as long as the tape is good, I can-”

“I believe that is enough from all of you.”

All three of them turned to look at an upset-looking Alfred, who stood near the table where all of their belongings and gear were lying around.

“Pennyworth?” Damian said. “What is-”

“This is not how you all should be acting,” He pointed at them with a firm finger, “and I have grown tired of this nonsense.”

The kids exchanged glances, feeling chastised already.

Alfred never spoke like this. Or pointed fingers at anybody.

“Your sister doesn’t need any of you questioning her every move, action, or word. She doesn’t need invasions of privacy or made-up theories as if she were some kind of criminal or someone you should be suspicious of.”

Cass tried to approach him, “Alfred, we just want-”

“I will stop you right there, Miss Cassandra,” He cut in, making them flinch. “It is not about what you want, or what Master Tim wants, or what any of you want. It’s about what she wants and needs for her own peace and mind.”

“But we tried, she just doesn’t let us in!” Damian bristeled.

“Hasn’t she? Ever wondered why?” He questioned them.

They slipped into silence, feeling shame crawling from deep inside their stomachs. They lowered their heads, avoiding looking at the furious butler.

“If any of you have any bit of shame left in your bones, you will speak with her when she feels like it and when she allows it.” With that, he turned around and left the cave, leaving the trio of bats swallowing in their dead silence.

Until Tim started typing on the computer once again.

“Drake,” Damian growled. “You heard Pennyworth. We are-”

“I’m not stopping,” He said, never lifting his gaze from the screen. “I know something is up, and I know I am right.”

“But, Tim,” Cass muttered, grabbing the back of his chair. “It could be too risky-”

“You two can back off if you want,” He snapped, glaring up at her and then at Damian on his other side. “You guys, back off and leave it to me, or you can help out. Your choice.”

The other two exchanged glances. They knew Alfred’s words held some truth in them. But they couldn’t shake off what they had seen or felt around the manor when it came to her. What they saw was real. They knew it. And they needed to know what was happening to her. To them.

It was too late to back out. For any of them.

“Fine,” Damian conceded. “But we go with the possession theory first.”

Cass and Tim exchanged looks. They were a bit skeptical about it, but the sooner they could discard the theory, the better for all of them.

“Fine. Ghost hunting, it is then.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Wally wasn’t sure how to feel about Dick.

He was his best friend, sure! He loved him and cared about him beyond measure, and was always down to go to war for him if it was needed. They had been friends for such a long time, and they had a deep trust in each other that not everyone could understand.

But Dick was acting, well, he wasn’t even sure there were even words for it.

When he got that text from Dick that morning saying: ‘Hey, let’s meet up at the coffee spot! Need to rant :( “ ,Wally was more than ready to bolt and meet him up at that very second.

But he took a hold of himself and agreed to meet him up around ten in the morning for some nice frapuccino and have a good old talk with his best buddy! Maybe even bring up that subject he needed to talk about with him.

And now, half an hour in, Wally wasn’t sure what he signed up for.

“-ut making me take a step back when everyone knows that she only listens to me? That’s bullshit!” Dick stressed, knee bouncing and eyes looking so sunken that it could rival a racoon.

He took another sip of his third cup of coffee and groaned. “And now, I don’t know why Barbara is keeping stuff away from me. I mean, that’s my sister! Why would she only tell Bruce about where she is and how she’s doing? She is my girlfriend, for heaven’s sake, she is supposed to tell me first!”

“Maybe something did happen and only wanted Bruce to know? He is her dad after all.” Wally shrugged, slurping on his sugary menace while trying to keep a normal expression on his face.

Dick was just, out of his reasoning. He looked like he needed some sleep, really.

“Have you been sleeping, dude?” Wally asked, before Dick could jump into another rant. “You don’t look well, man.”

His friend hesitated for a moment, licking his lips before sighing and leaning back on his chair, shoulders heavy and eyes even more exhausted.

“No, Walls,” He muttered. “I can’t sleep. I dread it now, if I’m honest.”

The redhead’s gaze softened, putting his arms on the table and leaning forward. “Nightmares again?”

Dick shook his head, strands falling over his eyes. “No. Just, can’t do it. I try to close my eyes and nothing. Sleep never comes.”

“Have you tried talking about to anyone? Maybe a doctor?” He offered.

“No. I’m too busy for that.” He confessed. “We’re still working on the missing kids case and then there’s this whole situation with my sister and I just can’t catch a break.”

Dick rubbed his face with a deep sigh, falling into silence and catching some breaths. Wally just let him be, knowing that the man was probably taking a small break for the first time in weeks.

He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something else was off, but he paid no mind to it. Not right now.

“Enough about me,” Dick finally said. He gave him a small smile despite his tired expression. “Tell about you. Any case you’re on?”

Wally couldn’t bring on the questions about mutants. The subject felt too heavy to be brought on at the moment and with the state his friend’s state.

But there was something else he could bring to his attention.

“Actually,” He began to say. “I am looking for two kids.”

Dick nodded, looking intrigued. “Who are you looking for?”

Wally sighed, “A friend of my uncle is looking for his niece and nephew. A pair of twins.”

“Haven’t seen any reports on missing twins recently,” Dick tried to recall. “Any age range? Looks?”

“That’s the thing.” Wally shrugged, bitting onto the straw of his drink. “He hasn’t seen them in a long time but he is sure of one thing.”

“The kids are in Gotham. And they bring trouble the longer they stay here.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Essex Corporation

1:00 PM

A monitor screen showed a live recording from a training area. It was a simulation, made to be seen like a city filled with people walking along the street, minding their day-to-day.

On the other side of the screen, sitting on a black spinning chair, was Mr. Sinister, looking bored out of his mind as he reviewed the recording over and over again.

It was from one of his patients. The rebel boy with the earthquake abilities. His file was open on the table beside him.

Name: Lance Alvers Age: 16 Years old Height: 6’1 Weight: 167 Pounds

“Sir,” his assistant interrupted, looking at the screen with concern written on his face. “Are you sure he’s the right tool to use to capture the girl?”

Sinister glanced back at his assistant and then back at the file on the table. “Are you trying to question my methods, Matthews?”

The assistant simply looked up at the monitor. The boy, Lance, stood in the middle of the street with his grey scrubs and the collar wrapped around his neck. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back once his hand extended over the ground below him. The whole street shook, making people panic and run around as every tower and building around them began to fall apart. It went like this until the simulation faded out, leaving only a panting and sweaty boy kneeling on the metal ground.

But still glaring directly at the camera with defiance.

Sinister tapped a button, and his voice echoed through the room Lance was in. “Good work, Alvers. Looks like you will have that small trip to the outside very soon.”

Lance flipped up his middle finger at the camera.

“It’s Alvarez, cabrón!”

Sinister turned towards his assistant. “Gather the statistics of this simulation and send a check-up for him. That’s enough for today.”

Looks like he would have his speedster very, very soon.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Author's Note: Hello everyone, hope you guys enjoyed this new chapter! LUMA couldn't keep me away from updating lol.

So many things happening in this chapter and I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with jsjss Just a little reminder! There's a current survey going around that supposed to end this thursday. It's about a couple of ideas that I'm coming up with for when I finish this story and I would love to hear which one do you guys like the most! Here's the link! Always know that i love to yap and read you all! Sending tight hugs and lots of love, GG✨

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Bonus Memes:

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sammytheotakunerd · 21 hours ago

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#oriel looks like I can sit and look out the window like I'm a princess looking out at the night sky

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sammytheotakunerd · 21 hours ago

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It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 15

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

Time and place: A deserted highway at dusk, the sky red as fresh blood with black lurking around the edge.

Character: On one side, you, Reader S, and Duke Thomas. Across you and Duke, the Bat-slash-Wayne pack, comprising of Batman-slash-Bruce-Wayne, Nightwing-slash-Dick-Grayson, Red-Hood-slash-Jason-Todd, Red-Robin-slash-Timothy-Drake and Robin-slash-Damian-Wayne.

Background: You, biologically the child of Bruce Wayne, had been neglected by him and his pack for the whole nine years you lived with them after your mother's death. Six months ago, upon your sixteenth birthday, you presented as a beta, otherwise known as the inferior gender despite the fact that the presence of betas was integral in packs. Revolted at the prospect of receiving 'family love' solely on account of your secondary gender, you decided to hide the truth and train yourself in preparation to leave once you were of age.

Unfortunately for you, this afternoon the Waynes had communicated with each other and come to the suspicion, if not the realization that you were neither an alpha nor an omega like them. Having eavesdropped on their chat and thus known that you were in danger, you resolved to flee the city–regardless of you still being underage–only to be attacked by the freaking Joker who just escaped from Arkham Asylum. You managed to fend him off and even reached the bay to Metropolis... But right at the moment you spotted your friend and fellow beta Duke being taken by Joker's goons.

In defiance to rationality, you proceeded to turn back to save Duke. You chased the van carrying him and the goons to an abandoned warehouse where Joker awaited, and snuck in right before the Bats entered. You continued sneaking until you could reach Duke and untie him while Robin was struggling to release the other hostages.

As it happened, Robin realized your identity–right in time to intercept a sneak attack intended for you. Said attack being a forbidden serum that could instantly turn an alpha like his original self into an omega... with the side effect that, should he not get scented by his pack beta in time, he would die from overheating. And you, well.

You were not Robin's pack beta. But you could scarcely leave your little brother to die like that, especially considering he got attacked to save you. So you saved him, because pack or not he was your little brother.

Oh yeah, Robin was your little brother Damian. You were today years old when you found out the Waynes and the Bats were one and the same.

And now here you were, standing on the paved road facing the Bats. As you saw them standing there across of you, you couldn't help feeling bitterly amused.

Look, the mighty Bats, the protectors of Gotham who flew in the night sky. Currently forced down to the ground like the rest of humanity.

The gun you looted off Joker burned against your side where you had it tucked. Your fingers itched to shoot. Your legs strained to run.

Your heart–

Your heart bled. Damned if you had an idea why, but it did.

Regardless, you didn't show anything. Not only was your face covered with a visored helmet and a gas mask still, your body language remained impassive. There was another shred of bitter joy in your mind at the realization that the Bats were visibly less put-together.

Glancing at Duke, you murmured, "You don't have to stay here with me, you know."

Duke retorted immediately, "I've followed you so far, you think you can just ditch me?"

Warmth filled your bleeding heart at that, like a blanket wrapped around a stabbing victim. Thanks to your mask, you didn't have to bother concealing your fond smile before it vanished at the sound of one of the Bats speaking.

"Reader."

You didn't hesitate responding with a mocking tone.

"Batman."

Batman, Bruce Wayne, your father in name only pressed his lips in a line. "Show us your face," he ordered before belatedly adding, with clenched teeth, "Please."

Truly an effective way to make you want to obey him. Ha.

You smirked behind the mask you pointedly did not remove. "No, thank you. I'm sure you lot can hear me just fine like this anyway."

Batman opened his mouth probably to give you another order, but Nightwing impatiently cut in, Robin's unconscious form carried on his back.

"Puppy, you have been a beta all along?"

The question would have been manageable, had it not been for the hopeful tone Nightwing used, complete with the undertone of you have been our pack beta all along? that even a deaf person could detect. As it was, you were barely able to refrain from recoiling in disgust and fear.

Calm down, you told yourself. You needed all your wits about you while you were confronting the Bat-Wayne pack.

"A beta, yes," you laid stress on the first word, and quirked your lips downward when the Bats predictably ignored it.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Red Robin shouted. "Gods, all these months–that's–why did you lie to me you were an omega?!"

"And why are you, an unbonded beta, walking around Crime Alley alone?" Red Hood snarled. "For that matter, why are you attending Park Row High without telling anybody in the pack?"

"Reader," Batman growled. "You have much to explain."

You deliberately remained silent for a few more seconds, arms crossed and backside leaning against your bike. It was only when Red Hood lost patience and began stomping towards you that you spoke up.

"You know, if I hadn't been listening in to your conversation this afternoon, I would have been baffled," you drawled. "After all, why would the Bat pack, the vigilantes of Gotham, randomly talk to me as if I were one of their own?"

They suddenly went silent and stiffened. Though you couldn't see it due to their masks, you dared wager they were nervously eyeing each other, as if only realizing–

"Y, you didn't know? No one told you?" Red Robin asked, incredulous.

"When did we ever interact long enough for any of you to say something like that?"

"Oh my God, nobody told you..."

Nightwing staggered, Robin's body precariously tilting off one shoulder as he hurriedly steadied the unconscious kid.

"Reader–Puppy," he began, voice desperate. "Why didn't you tell us? We would've been so happy–"

"Exactly." You nodded, causing Nightwing to stop and gape in shock. Then to make things clearer, you added, "I don't want to make you happy. I don't want to be your pack beta."

The way the Bat-Wayne pack took it, you might as well have said that you wanted to be a beggar. Something unfathomably ridiculous. As if being their pack beta was something great instead of horrifying.

(You ignored the little voice in your mind pointing out how, had you presented as anything except a beta, you would've been touched to be accepted in the pack.)

(After all, being a beta, you knew that that was entirely why they'd accept you.)

Red Robin stumbled forward, actually pushing a stunned Red Hood to one side as he spluttered, "What do you mean you don't want to be our pack beta? You are our pack beta, it's not–you can't just say no!"

Had you presented as an alpha or an omega like them, would you have acted just as entitled to betas?

The thought disconcerted you. You cast a guilty look Duke's way–not that he could have seen it–before responding,

"One needs to be a pack member before one can be a pack beta."

It wasn't always the case, of course. But in this case? Red Robin did imply that you were their pack beta because you were already pack.

Nine and a half years' worth of memory, none of which had you being included in pack activities, attested that you had never been pack. Merely a random, unwanted addition.

The Bat-Waynes didn't seem to agree with that, judging from the stricken looks on their faces–Nightwing's and Red Robin's anyway–as well as the hurt anger in their scents.

How nostalgic. It reminded you of your first time meeting Dick, and of Jason's funeral. Dick's and Bruce's scents hadn't had this undertone exactly, but they were just as awful.

You were brought out of your reverie as Batman, in a move that shocked you, actually took off his cowl.

Duke gasped. You probably did too, but you were transfixed on that face. Your father Bruce's face. You last saw it... When exactly? That day he went to your room, so six months minus one day ago?

He looked tired. Exhausted, really. Sad, too. And bafflingly–

Disappointed.

Like he got any right to be.

Tone saccharine, you asked, "Something the matter, Bruce?"

Bruce's already stiff face stiffened even more. He sent you a look that could have passed as a glare if not for the hurt, pathetic aura about him. You pointedly did not take pity on the man, and boy were you glad for your decision considering what he proceeded to say without an ounce of guilt or shame:

"You must not act like this, Reader. You are my child and our pack member, no matter what you think."

No matter what you thought, that bastard said?

As if your thought was wrong?

It was only by sheer self-control that your arms remained crossed, despite your dominant hand's fingers itching for the Joker's gun. Your mouth, however, couldn't stop itself from coldly replying to Bruce.

"Now that's just funny," you said. "Because I sure don't recall a single time you–any of you–treated me as pack."

Bruce faltered. "Surely–Alfred–"

"Mr Pennyworth is an admirable butler," you sneered.

Bruce turned around to his children, but before he could say a word, Red Hood harshly took off his helmet then peeled off the domino mask he had on underneath.

"Hold it right there! You don't talk about Alfred with that kind of tone!" He barked.

You wanted to laugh.

"I understand that Mr Pennyworth acts more in the capacity of a benevolent grandfather to you," you cooed. "But to me, he has always behaved in the capacity of a proper butler. Capable. Placid. Politely indifferent. Never a pack member."

If possible, the Bat-Wayne pack appeared more stricken at that.

You rolled your eyes. "And even if he is–which he is not–that doesn't automatically make me pack, duh. He would've only been part of my pack. You can't have others do your job for you and claim it as yours, Mr Billionaire."

You didn't spare a pale Jason another look, nor did you heed Nightwing and Red Robin trading uneasy glances at the back.

(You did think about Robin. Damian. Was he all right now? Why was he still unconscious? Why didn't any of them drop him off first at wherever their base was?)

You kept your eyes trained on Bruce, who looked back at you with some emotions you couldn't begin to decipher. Eventually he spoke again.

Softly, gently, as guiltlessly and shamelessly as he did before.

"I love you, pup."

Had Joker's gun been in your hand, you would've shot him dead.

"I don't believe you."

Bruce had the gall to look hurt at your response. Not blatantly perhaps, but more than enough for Nightwing to step up and defend him.

"Puppy," he tried to say soothingly. "Look, we get that you're upset with us now–"

"I'm not," you interrupted. "I'm indifferent about you guys now."

Because the opposite of love was not hatred but indifference.

For a moment Nightwing's lips tightened into a thin line, but the performer side of Dick Grayson quickly took control. "We get that you're upset with us now." He smiled, pure and serene like effing Bodhisattva despite the undoubtedly petty decision to continue calling you 'upset'. "We also acknowledge that we have failed you in many ways as a pack. You do deserve better than what you've received so far, Reader. You are worth it."

Counting 1, 2, 3...

"But don't you think you are being a little too harsh? We are your pack, puppy. You must not be rash and alienate us so quickly. We're just looking out for you, because we want what is best for you. Can't you give us another chance and let us make amends?"

Called it. Of course he would try to manipulate you.

You were tempted to unmask just so they could see you beaming, but opted to stay prudent just in case. So you just answered, "Mm, no, I can't. My bad."

He hadn't taken off his domino mask, but you just knew the corner of his eyes was twitching in anger.

Batman done, Red Hood done, Nightwing also done. That left Red Robin as the only one to try persuading you, and the guy did hastily moved to do just that.

"Reader, please understand," he pleaded. "It's not like we want to neglect you! We're just–everyday there's something. We're so busy all the time and you're not one of us so you won't get it, but–stuff just gets–not forgotten, but... lowered in priority. We couldn't come to your school play when there was an intergalactic war we had to prevent from happening! We couldn't take care of your scrapes when the rogues were terrorizing the city! Please understand!"

You tilted your head up, looking at the sky above. The lurking black had yet to completely hide the red. The buildings on either side of the road were unused and dark, but a lone street lamp flickered to light. A plan began to brew in your mind.

"I do understand." Turning towards Red Robin (Tim? Why did you differentiate between their real names and aliases anyway?), you added, "What you don't understand is that regardless of the reason, you lot still neglected me. Were it not for the Wayne's money and reputation, I would have been removed from your pack's custody years ago. I don't trust your pack with my well-being."

Red Robin opened his mouth, hesitated, and ended up not speaking. His shoulders slumped.

For a short minute, no one else moved. No one else spoke. Then Bruce did one more time.

"You will not stop denying that you are our pack beta, then?"

You nodded.

He nodded. "Then we can only bring you back home by force."

At that, everyone exploded into movement.

You aimed and shot.

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sammytheotakunerd · 22 hours ago

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sammytheotakunerd · 1 day ago

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"I just don't understand how people could like dark fiction-" Then don't understand it. It's simply not for you. Anything under taboo, dark, and dead dove is meant for people who can handle it and be mature about it. You're allowed to not like stuff. You're allowed to feel triggered or squicked. But don't act like you're on some moral high horse because you don't explore those themes. Further more, no one owes you an explanation as to why they like those themes in the first place. You don't have to have some sort of trauma to enjoy that type of work. You can just enjoy it, zero justification. It's not real. No one's out here genuinely wanting those scenarios to actually happen, and this goes for non-yandere related things as well. Anyone who tries to act on them was going to do something anyway, and didn't know how to regulate themselves.

I hate having to bring it up constantly but Christ on a cracker it's like you went to one literature class, drew eyes on your paper rather than learn media literacy, and now think someone liking something dark, taboo, or general kink stuff is somehow a reflection of who they actually are. Brains are weird. They like to make fake scenarios constantly. The least we can do is give the ball of jelly something fun and something it can control. If your brain doesn't like it, then find something it does.

-Mommabean

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sammytheotakunerd · 1 day ago

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safe to say i died

#AUGHHH DOOMED YURI #MY SHAYLASSS 😫😫

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sammytheotakunerd · 1 day ago

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ELLIOT MY BELOVED!!!!

Some Elliot art I made for a collab!!

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sammytheotakunerd · 2 days ago

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HIS BABYSITTER FANTASY COME TRUE!

𝖘𝖚𝖒.ㅤ★ Dilf!Gojo fantasizing about taking his babysitter's virginity 'till it becomes a reality and oops... now he's fucking you off the bed 'n taking this to the floor like a wrestler!

𝖜𝖈ㅤ★ 6.7k (beefy like his di-)

𝖈𝖜ㅤ★ strictly NO under 18s, smut, virginity loss, plot, fucking the babysitter trope, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms/creampies, cunnilingus, aftercare 🫶, age gap (Gojo in his 30s, reader in her 20s), solo masturbation, pet names (good girl, slut, etc.), breast play, subtle breeding kink, daddy kink, big d!ck Gojo, he um... fucks a pillow while you give him an innocent massage

"I've always liked older men. Boys my age just don't get me, you know? Neither do they know how to fuck me."

That was one of the first things you said to Gojo Satoru.

And he nearly had a heart attack. Choked on his drink so hard that he had to spit half of it back into the glass.

How could you say something like that with such an angelic voice? It didn't match up, your words were nasty but your face was innocent.

Wiping his mouth, Satoru tried to recompose himself.

"Is that so...?" is all that he could manage to reply with.

He tugged at his baby blue shirt's collar, unbuttoned one button 'cause he couldn't breathe. His blood was pumping. His heart was thumping.

"How old did you say you were again?" you asked softly.

"Thirty-two." he replied. "And way too old for you."

"Perfect." you smiled.

"Huh?"

Mmm... now what did his best friend say about you? "Oh Satoru, I know a babysitter that you and the kids will just adore. She's a real sweetheart."

A sweetheart... uh, yeah, well Suguru didn't warn him about the fact you had a thing for dads. Didn't warn him that you might be crazy. Touch-starved. A way too horny and provocative twenty-something year old virgin.

Maybe Suguru didn't even see this side of you... maybe it was just Satoru that you were throwing yourself at. Surely Suguru would have told him all about a heated affair that he had with a babysitter... right? Or was he the only daddy that you fantasized about fucking your pretty brains out?

Just the thought of that being true made his ego swell and his blood rush down to his heavy cock. He loved thinking about the obvious fact that you laid in bed touching your pussy to the thought of him.

He endured your flirting. Held his hands behind his back. Bit his tongue. Told himself that he can't make out with his hot babysitter on a random Sunday afternoon, as much as he wanted to, because that was diabolical.

You were sitting on the couch alone some nights, ensuring his kids were entertained and fed and happy, while he was at work. You watched their favorite cartoons until they felt drowsy and then you had to tuck 'em into bed and read three separate bed time stories for each of them because Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara all liked different stories.

It was exhausting, but such a joy to babysit such sweethearts.

After they fell asleep, you'd wander a lonely path back downstairs and look at the time — 8:45 PM — then yawn big and snuggle up on the couch and... wait. And wait. Anddd... wait.

Satoru would always come home late from work.

You'd hear the click of the front door and have an almost Pavlovian reaction. Oh, daddy's home.

You'd strain your ears to hear his footsteps as he walked down the hall, hear the satin hiss of his loosening tie, the sound sparking your over-active imagination. And, pushing a stressed-out sigh past his lips, Satoru would walk into the living room to see you looking drowsy and messy after a long day of taking care of his three kids.

And it's that messy sight of you which made something click in Satoru's mind. That's what really sold him on you. Sure, you were a crazy hot mess... but you had this undeniable motherly quality about you that just made him wonder.

What if he gave you his babies?

Shit. Sorry. Random Friday night thoughts. Forgive him. He's been working at a desk all day and now he's feelin' a bit woozy.

He looked at you, mumbled a sweet but gruff "Hey." and then took a seat right next to you on the TV-lit couch. He sat a respectable distance away from you at first... but then, uh, the next second you had already scooched over to his side until you two were almost pressing thigh against thigh.

Exhausted. Apprehensive at how close his flirty babysitter liked to sit next to him, while at the same time getting half-hard at the thought of tearing off your tiny clothes and showing you just how frustrated a tease like you makes him. Satoru sat and endured.

Underneath all that teenage-like sexual tension, he was feeling welcomed home by you. He almost forgot how nice it felt to have someone waiting up for him.

"So, how was work?" you asked.

He grumbled. He sighed. He was half-hard and full-frustrated. No one had asked him that question in a long time in such a caring voice that it actually tugged at his heartstrings a bit. Just a bit.

"It was... um, yeah... like any other day. Long and hard."

"Long and hard..." you nodded, trailing off and letting the innuendo fill the air.

He gave you a look.

"Exactly how long and hard?" you asked.

He couldn't believe that your stupid jokes like that made him chuckle. And what a sight his smile was; his dimples, the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners, making the slightest age lines appear on his pale face.

"Ah, finally I got a smile out of you."

"And that's the only one you're getting." he shook his head.

Satoru brought his big hand to massage his shoulder, letting out a tense groan from his thought.

Oh, the pitiful look that you gave him made him wanna crawl onto your lap and weep. He'd worked so hard all week with scarce breaks, and all he wanted was a sweet, soft woman to lay upon, to be loved by, to fuck stupid, to use like a good stress-relieving fleshlight — ya know? Just a nice way to wrap up a hard week.

"You..." you began, pressing one long decorated nail into his firm pecs, "... look like you're in desperate need of a massage."

"Ahah... no, no..."

He stuttered, smiled a big toothy smile that made you wanna bite him. God, he really looked like that old photo of himself right then — that one you stole, remember? His graduation photo. He just looked too hot and you had to have a memento of him for your memory box.

Shit. You were crazy.

Satoru had no fucking idea whether you were making a dirty suggestion or just genuinely offering him a massage.

Either way, the thought of your hands on him got the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

Though the rational side of his brain was telling him to refuse your offer, the ghost of the crazed fuckboy that he used to be forced him to accept — like, fuck, what kind of idiot would you be if you refused a pretty girl to work her hands on you, Satoru? Don't put your past self to shame, he thought, you're only gonna get older one day and then that thing ain't even gonna sit up like a good boy without some treats... yeah... that's right... you're gonna be real fucking old one day, Satoru... think about it...

"You know what, actually...? Yeah, I'd love one... but you better be good." he said in a low rasp.

"Oh, don't worry — I'm the best." you grinned like a sweet little devil.

I'll fucking bet you are, cheeky slut, he thought.

He looked like he was holding back all his raw lust. Like if you said just one more thing like that then he would tear your clothes right off your slutty little body and fuck you until every thought flew out of your head except for thoughts of him.

****

Yeah, that martial artist discipline of his really came in handy once you started massaging his shoulders and back. If he hadn't been so strict on himself, he would have...

"Gosh, you're sooo tense, Mr. Gojo... relax."

... I need to fuck her brains out. That's the first thought that he had to push out of his head.

"... let me take the weight of your shoulders..." you nearly whispered, working your hands into his meaty muscle.

Ooh he slipped, he totally gave in.

"Mmm..." he let out a purring moan, feeling the pressure of your fingertips sink into his sore muscles. "That feels good... keep going."

You were trying to keep it cool and professional... er, as professional as you could with your hands exploring Gojo Satoru's muscular back.

Having the lights down low didn't help much. Everything was turning you on. Your clit was already buzzing and begging for attention from behind your thin panties.

This was babymaking atmosphere.

You were going insane, soaking your panties and twitching 'cause you've got a hot dad groaning under your touch.

"Y' can go a little harder..." he muttered in a rough voice.

"M'kay..."

"Mmm..." he let out that purring moan again, this time stretching it out.

Something was so erotic about giving him a massage, even though it wasn't supposed to be — uh, it really wasn't supposed to be, right? Right? It's not like you planned this out all night, not like you were scheming while watching cartoons and waiting for Gojo Satoru to come home.

Ah c'mon... he's an overworked man in need of a massage. Just listen to him, he's moaning like he's — oh, he's closing his eyes, too? He must be really feeling it. His breath is becoming choppy, too.

"Just a bit more..."

"Like this?"

"Yeahhh... just like that."

His mouth hung open in bliss. He squirmed a little. Shit... he could feel himself throbbing. Even slightest friction of his pants shifting along his painfully hard cock was already intense enough to make him clench his jaw.

You smirked, catching a delicious glimpse of the prominent outline of his bulging cock right before he instinctively covered it up with a pillow.

Damn, how does he keep such a monster hidden under such thin dress pants?

Sticking your tongue out in focus as you deliberately massage a spot on his back that makes him moan out the most, Satoru rolls his eyes back and dies a little orgasmic death.

"Yeah... th-that's it... right there... right there... you can go harder."

"Like this?"

"Yeahhh... good g- uhhh, th-that's good." he purred, holding back his tongue just in time because oops, he almost called you a good girl without even thinking.

Oh, that pillow coverage sure helped to keep his boner out of sight but then he had a new problem... the pleasurable friction of the pillow and the fact his stubborn hips liked to move on their own.

Without trying to make it obvious, he was getting off with the pillow, shifting it as inconspicuously as he could but he just couldn't get enough friction — shit, when was the last time that he was so horny he could even enjoy fucking a pillow? It was insane how hard he was, how much his cock oozed sticky precum, how every inch stood at attention asking politely to stretch out some good babysitter pussy.

He shut his pretty blue eyes when started feeling reaaally good. Like, god, he needed this more than he needed air. It was such a shit day at work, but now all the stress that he had built up throughout the day just melted away with each subtle thrust of his bulge into the pillow, and your soft hands digging into his muscular back.

I wanna fuck her so bad.

"Uhhh, fuckkkkkkk...!" he let out a broken moan.

You stopped massaging his back, eyes blown wide open, trying to hold back your shock and snickering. He had worked up a subtle sweat. His muscles were twitching. He was gasping. It was so obvious to you what had just happened.

"Mister?"

"Huh?" he blinked the stars out of his eyes, coming-to as if his orgasm knocked him out for a second.

"Are you okay...?"

He opened his eyes and... oh, there was a wet patch on his dress pants where he just came. Oops. A little massaging and pillow-fucking and he came all over his thigh? Well, that had never happened before. Guess his cock was just super sensitive after not having sex for so long — but you didn't hear that from me...

Satoru gulped. He abruptly stood up, acting as nervous as a bird, "Um, uh... it's late, isn't it? I've gotta drive you home..."

"Aw, okay." you frowned at him, wiggling your hips like you were expecting more.

And he looked at your wiggling hips, your slightly spread apart legs, and then he let a nasty thought pass his mind, and nearly caved and asked you if you wanted to...

****

God, you had your legs apart and he could smell your ovulation. No no, don't call him crazy. He could smell it.

And as he went upstairs to wipe the cum off his inner thighs and change into new pants, he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that you must have been soaked. You must have had the prettiest pussy ever.

Oh, he threw his head back and groaned when he met you back downstairs because while he tried acting professional, now you were all worked up and in an outrageously flirty mood.

You were about to say something outrageous again but he stopped you dead on your tracks.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear it. Let's go." he said, grabbing his keys.

You saluted him playfully, "Yes, daddy."

He did a double take. "What?"

"Nothing." you smiled innocently.

His eyes caught yours, then he rubbed his cheek like he was stressed out.

It was really obvious why he liked you, but Satoru was aching to ask why on earth you like him so much.

Didn't you think he was an egotistical asshole? That's how his ex-wife described him, anyways.

*****

"So you're a Sagittarius, huh?" you ask, little voice dripping in sultriness and setting off alarm bells in the fuckboy side of his mind. "That's hot."

"Uh-huh."

He's driving you home. 60 mph. Switching lanes. Bright blue eyes blind-spotting to the left. Next they're side-eyeing you. Catching on your pretty baby angel face. Trying to keep it together, but his cock is starting to make a bulge in his pants again. Something you've discovered is that the poor man doesn't even change out of his suit most days; when he comes home he just faceplants into bed and falls asleep.

"A december baby?"

"Yup. December seventh." he replies curtly.

Relax, Satoru. It's just conversation. Just innocent, professional conversation with the babysitter who just witnessed you fucking a pillow and cumming in your pants.

After a steadying inhale, he politely returns the question, "What about you? When's your birthday?"

Satoru pays you a brief glance before bringing his gaze back to the speedometer. 50 mph.

Just that one question turns into a deep exploration of your psyche.

"... I just don't like guys my age... like, god, they don't even turn me on anymore."

You give a dramatic pause before looking at him with a nympho fire in your eyes.

"Hey, you're an old man — got any sage advice for me?"

"Hey, who you callin' an old man?"

"Sorryyy, I'm just being cheeky."

"I can tell."

"Sooo... what's your advice?"

Satoru furrows his brows. "For what?"

"For getting older guys to pay one small glance to a sweet girl like me?"

He tenses up and doesn't reply.

You're insane. Worse, you're even more insane than he was when he was your age.

His cock is throbbing against his inner thigh. Again. Precum. Everywhere. How dare you? He's in-between throttling you and stopping off on the side of the highway to bend you over his car's hood to show you he ain't no old man. What a cheek...

"This is your turnoff, isn't it?"

"... yeah."

You watch him flick on the turn signal. You catch his eyes just before he blind-spots again.

As he's pulling off the highway, you pull a dumb joke out of your brain, eager to get a response from him.

"It's my turnoff. But ya wanna know my turn-on?"

"..." he doesn't reply, just gives you a look, then tears his eyes off you and rubs his fingers over his mouth.

"C'mon." you encourage, "You're so uptight; let me humor you a little."

"I'm pretty sure I can guess your turn-on."

You tilt your head at him expectantly. He purses his lips. Drives down your street. Pulls into your driveway. Parks. Unbuckles his seatbelt with a tantalizing slowness that sparks your imagination — d'you wonder if he unbuckles his belt that slowly, too?

Satoru offers one lazy guess. "Older men?"

"Bingo!"

He stifles a smile, shakes his head, thinks you're crazy, and then opens his car door and steps out, leaving you to giggle and unbuckle your seatbelt alone.

He swerves 'round the hood of the car over to your side, and reappears at your window to open your door for you.

"Wow. Handsome and chivalrous? Why'd your wife let a gem like you go?"

"... that's not really any of your business."

"Aw, c'mon... I'm just dripping with curiosity."

He doesn't reply again, just walks you silently to your front door. His heart is beating faster as he eyes out the curve of your ass. That tight sundress shows just the faintest hint of a thong underneath.

Just a thin sundress? A tiny thong underneath? God you're so fuckable, he thinks. So, so fuckable. And the worst part is that you're one of the girls who knows you're hot. That's why you bounce around in front of men like him like you're a reckless bunny.

He's trying so hard to block out wild fantasies of ripping the fabric off your tight body and fucking you into a dumb, slutty mess.

Block it out, Satoru, block it out.

Finally, he replies to the question you posed earlier.

"I'm full of myself, apparently." he says bitterly.

"You're full of yourself?" you tilt your head, a light confusion glossing over your features.

He's so patient and fatherly to his kids; a jovial and wholesome man. I mean, he takes his kids to every place they wanna go, makes gingerbread houses with them in the festive season, plays pretend with them, sets up outdoor adventures in his backyard, gets dressed up in a ridiculous costume for Halloween and takes them out trick-or-treating every year without fail. For god's sake, he bought a hot pink set of baking cookware just because Nobara fancied herself a chef.

He gives his all to his kids, how could anyone think he's full of himself?

"... seems like your wife was wrong about you." you reply.

"Ex-wife. And nah, you'll probably agree with her if ya stick around me long enough — " he speaks self-deprecatingly of himself, but then you interrupt him.

"— mmm, if I stick around ya for to long... y'think I'll end up being full of you, too?"

He stutters. Blood rushes to his cock.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Satoru blinks at you in total disbelief. Again, an innocent face like you saying such outrageous shit is just insane to him.

"You've got a nasty conscience, you know that?"

"N'aw, don't mind me. I'm just having fun, being a little silly." you giggle, eyes all over him and his pretty, rideable face.

"Well, I wouldn't call flirting with older men being 'silly'..."

"And I wouldn't call pillow-fucking being 'professional'..."

Oh god. Oh my fucking god. He's breaking in two like a kitkat.

Satoru is rendered fucking silent. He's stunned. He's red.

"Goodnight." is all he replies with. And then he leaves. What the hell else is he supposed to say to that? You're crazy.

Now you got him all worked up and he doesn't know what to do. If younger Satoru knew that one day in his thirties he'd meet a slutty babysitter... oh, god. Younger Satoru would be pumping his fist in the air.

But gonna keep playing it cool, 'cause there's no way he can fuck his babysitter... there's NO way...

... so there he is that very night tucked in his black satin sheets, leaky cock in his fist and jaw slacked, face sweaty, fucking himself to supposedly real "I fucked my babysitter" erotica stories. No, he's not one for porn videos. He just wants to lay back and picture your pretty face with no disturbances. He just wants to lay wayyy back on his king-sized bed, fisting his cock with soft fwupfwupfwups while picturing his babysitter's pussy sitting pretty on him.

He groans at his dirty little fantasies as he slides his hand up and down his shaft, getting so lost in the idea of taking your virginity that he forgets all about the erotica story he's reading and jus' closes his eyes, head thunking back against the headboard in bliss and cock dripping like a leaky faucet, practically drooling all over his lower abdomen.

"Good girl; take it all, just like that..." he mutters.

He slides his thumb over his leaky tip and holds it over the hole, smearing precum everywhere as it oozes out, getting his cock wetter before going back to stroking it at a steady speed. His breath gets ragged as he lures his orgasm out.

He's never met a virgin as slutty as you before, that's for sure.

Shit, he really shouldn't be thinking about fucking his babysitter. He really shouldn't tease his cock to thoughts of taking your virginity. It shouldn't bring on his orgasm to picture you trapped underneath his heavy muscles, cumming all over his mature cock.

"... ugh!" he moans out, shifting down the headboard and curling his toes. "Fuck! Fuck... oh, shit, baby..."

Just like that, his jaw slacks in pleasure 'n his cock shoots out thick ribbons of cums and he's creaming all inside you — oh, sorry. That was just in his fantasies.

In reality, he's just cum all over his abs and chest. It shot up so high that it almost reached his neck.

He pants and looks down at the wasted seed that he coulda pumped inside you.

Groaning as he comes down from his high, Satoru lays with his long legs spread out on his bed for a while and curses himself for thinking of fucking his babysitter.

And then he starts weighing the pros and cons of actually doing it.

Yeah, he stares up at the ceiling after jerking off for like thirty minutes, cum splattered on his abs, thinking about how bad of an idea it would be to actually fuck his slutty babysitter.

No, Satoru. You can't. Absolutely no — no fucking the babysitter. Satoru? Bad boy. Don't do it. I know she's fuckable but you cannot fuck your —

****

— so like a week later, he's spreading your legs and crawling inbetween them.

He's placing rough kisses against your lips like he's almost angry about being this horny.

"Nn!" you whine, feeling his fingertips press against your clothed pussy, pushing against your entrance.

"Aw, you're soakin' your panties just from a little bit of kissing? Aren't you cute." he murmurs on your skin.

"Sh-shut up and fuck me... I can't take this teasing." you spit back, pulling him back into a rough kiss.

He chuckles into your mouth, tongue slithering over yours and tangling up with it for a few seconds before he pipes up;

"I'm just getting back at you for all the teasing I endured from your slutty ass."

Biting your lip. Pulling away. Letting out a purely erotic noise. Sliding his big hands down your sides and gripping you like you're his woman.

Oh now your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Let's get you nice and ready for me, hm?" he husks, lips dangerously close to your clothed pussy.

Oh now your heart rate spikes to an alarming rate. Fuck. You're actually doing it. You're actually gonna fuck an older guy.

He plants a rough kiss on top of your pussy, chin pressing against your buzzy clit.

"Mm...!" you press your lips together, trying to keep some sort of composure but you can't 'cause you've got Gojo Satoru between your legs — who the hell would be able to stay composed in your position?

Damn, it drives him crazy when your inner thighs graze the sides of his cheeks. You're ruffling up his hair. He's going down on you.

A moment later, he's pushing your panties aside and lapping at your pussy. Another moment later, he's curling his tongue up inside you.

"Oh my god th-that feels good..." you gasp, feeling his slippery tongue writhe inside.

"Mmm, I know it does."

He feels smug hearing this, pressing an open-mouthed smile against your pussy lips as he sticks his tongue as deep into you as he can possibly go, eyeing your blissed-out expressions. Sliding his tongue out, spitting on your pussy, rubbing sloppy frantic circles on your clit, Satoru's acting like a total show off.

It makes you hide your face between your palms.

"Ah-ah-ah... I want you to watch." he growls, "Don't you dare take your eyes off me, m'kay? That's a good girl."

Tip of his nose nudging your clit as he tongue-fucks you into hazy bliss, you're moaning like you never knew you could.

And he's just in heaven, 'cause he's got your juices dribbling down his chin and glossing his lips better than his favorite lip gloss — uh-huh.

"Mister! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck — nnn! G-gojooo!" you start mewling his name and he goes faster, trying to chase your orgasm out with full intent to leave you hanging.

Your breath is staggering, pussy pulsing with that edge of pleasure and oh, suddenly he's retracting his tongue from your weeping, spasming hole before you can cum all over his face.

Yep. He leaves you hanging.

"Wait — ! Nn, I was gonna c—"

"— y'know, princess" he interrupts, wiping your slick off his cheek with his fingers and licking it off right before your wide eyes, "I really think we're past the formalities; call me Satoru."

Half-dazed and ditzy on the pleasure of a missed orgasm, you watch as Satoru pulls away from you, his knees digging into the mattress and weighing it down.

Veiny hands find his belt and smoothly undo it, whipping off with a loud crack.

"O-oh?" you breathe excitedly.

He smirks, seeing how your eyes are glued to his bulge, "Aw, ya gonna perv on me while I strip for ya?" he teases, then clicks his tongue in regret when you reply with a lamb-like look, "Hahaha, don't get shy on me now. I'm just teasing."

Absolutely drooling over his physique as he strips his clothes off tantalizingly slowly, Satoru's been so composed up until now; as he unbuttons and unzips his long zipper, you notice how ragged his breathing actually is. Like he needs it bad. Like his cock is getting strangled by his clothes.

After hastily taking his pants off, Satoru quickly frees his eager cock from his boxer briefs.

And your eyes go wiiide.

"Oh."

Pale. Pink. Stiff. Leaky. Bit of an upper curve. Thick veins. What's that, like maybe a nine? No, no, there's no way. Actually, on second look, maybe?

"C'mere, let me have you." he rasps, one hand gripping his dummy big cock.

"That is not gonna fit inside me."

His ego swells. Ah, how many girls have said that to him in his life? And it never gets old.

"Nah, it'll fit."

You twitch excitedly, breath catching in your throat as Satoru comes closer to you and snuggles his slim waist between your legs which you just keep spreading wider and wider, so ready to take him even though you're nervous as hell.

"Ready to get ya cherry popped, cutie?" he asks.

He taps his cock against your entrance, coats it in your slippery juices, teases that hot tip in 'n out.

"Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhfuck! Holy shit! Um! Uh!"

"What is it?" he throws a smug smile your way.

He watches intently as your pouty lips move, "'Big, 's really fucking big...! Ooh, god! Nn! Nnn!"

"You're so cute." he arches over you, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

His head starts to spin as he slides inside you.

Fuck. He's actually doing it. Sure, he fucked that flight attendant once. Yeah, he had a couple flings. He was a nasty, sex-crazed fuckboy in his youth. And yet... nothing felt as nasty as this.

This is everything he ever fucking needed. This is the sweet and nasty girl that he's craved for all his life. The rest were too nasty, some too sweet, but you? A perfect slut.

Satoru's curving up into you and teasing your sweet spots with his tip like he's letting 'em know that soon they're gonna get bullied with his hard-hitting strokes.

And your pussy's happily getting stretched out, walls clinging to every inch he pushes in like she's so thankful that you finally gave her something besides your fingers or toys to clench around.

"Ah, fuck, that's tight."

"I'm sorry!"

"No, no, it's a good thing... just relax a little more, 'm gonna push it deeper, is that okay?"

"Yes, please... oh please, fuck, yes give me everything!"

He grins, "No need to ask twice." he murmurs, right before he's sinking another few of his inches into your struggling pussy.

Satoru just comes undone at the feeling of being inside you.

His big hands come to squeeze your breasts, jiggling them around with a playful tongue poking out his mouth like he's just tempted to put his mouth on them.

So he does, y'know he's already lost enough self-restraint to the point where he's fucking his babysitter, so of course he's gonna give into his urge to suck on your breasts.

His hot, wet mouth envelopes your sensitive nipple, tongue flicking against it 'till he draws out cute whimpers from you.

He's pulling his mouth off, kissing the curve of your cleavage, groping a handful of your breasts, looking down at you like he knows damn well no boys your age are gonna fuck you as good as him — shit, scratch that, ain't fuckin' nobody in your whole life gonna fuck you as good as he will.

When your walls permit him to go deeper, Satoru stutters out like he's the virgin here, "F-f-fuck, there you go, baby, jus' take my cock like you're meant to, yeah?"

He moves his hips, relishing that sloppy sound of your pussy gushing around him — oh god you're bucking your hips to meet his hips 'n you're driving him crazy makin' him think for a split second about remarrying.

Like, he's going insane, he's actually going insane.

Hardly ten minutes later and he's fucking you into your first orgasm, loving how you can't even control how hard you cum on his cock. He's ruthlessly rubbing your clit throughout your orgasm, eager to make your eyes roll back completely. And it's making you freak the fuck out, 'cuz no one else has done this to you. No one has brought you to a real orgasm before.

And he can tell.

It makes him twitch and dive deeper into your sopping hole, eager to lure out as much juice as he can 'cause there's nothing he loves more than a creamy mess on his cock.

He's bending and pushing you into the positions he loves, thrusting at a steady pace that you can keep up with at first but sometimes he'll go harder, harder, harder until you're sobbing and wailing out so loudly that he needs to clamp a hand over your mouth.

He chuckles, "Quiet down, princess. You're gonna wake up my kids at this rate."

" 'm shorry!" you mumble into the palm of his hand, feeling his cock drill into your sweet spots and pressure your walls like crazy.

"No, no. Don't be sorry. It's cute. You're taking me so well," he praises, "Doing so so well for me, princess."

Those soft coos don't match his nasty strokes. He's railing you like he's trying to fuck every last bit of virginity out of your pussy, 'till it remembers the shape of his cock, 'till it clings to him, 'till it knows who's ya daddy.

Especially while prone-boning you. Damn, who forgot to give this guy the handbook on How to Fuck a Virgin? He's pounding into you and grunting like he's gone psycho... ohhhhehasn'thaddpussyinlikeayear. Okay. Makes sense.

"Ah, fuck — fuckin' look at me while I fuck you," he commands, sweaty cheek pressing against yours. Satoru grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, loving your lewd expressions. "Haha, such a fucked-out face... cute."

He thrusts faster into you, not even letting much of his cock in 'cause he knows form experience that virgin pussy just can't handle all of that. So he's easing out each time he accidentally dives in too deep.

And when he pounds up into you like that, it makes sense why the phrase "fucking your brains out" came about. His cock has got you in a crazy back arch, got you seeing stars. No thoughts. Just pussy spasms.

"Harder!! 'want it harder! Please! Fuck me harderrr!!" you plead, totally cockdrunk on Gojo Satoru.

"Are you sure 'bout that, sweetheart? 'Cause I don't think you can handle it..."

"Please!!" you beg.

"Aw... 'can't say no to that fuckable face, can i?" he throws your leg over his shoulder, repositioning himself, grinning, "Take a deep breath. You tell me if it's too much, m'kay? Y'can tap out at any time."

"Yeah, yeah! I know!!" you respond so eagerly it makes him giggle.

As instructed, you take a deep breath. But honestly, did it really prepare you for getting fucked this hard? Um, no.

"Fuck, fuck!! Nnn... god, fuck me! Yesyesyes, just like that please!!"

"Ah, shit, baby..."

"God, you're gonna — you're gonna break the bed, 'Toruuu!"

"I'm gonna break you first." he moans, pounding every last inch of his cock into your happy little pussy, gives your g-spot a beating that has your whole body on the brink of insanity.

"Ughhh... fuck!" you choke up, you hiccup, you sob and wail — and he has to kiss you quiet.

My god did you need this. You needed to indulge in this nastiness, 'cuz who the hell else is ever gonna give you the fucking of a lifetime? Uh, yeah, that's right...

"Yeah, keep enjoying my fucking cock. You know nobody else is gonna fuck you as good as this, little slut." he whispers into your ear, cheek sticky with sweet 'n pressing against yours.

What kind of man did his ex-wife think he was? Full of himself? Nah... he wasn't that full of himself. C'mon now...

"... fuck you look so good cumming on my cock like that. Aw, you shaking? Can't handle it? Am I just too good at fucking you, huh? Wanna cum again? Come on, use your words, you're a big girl. You wanna cum again, don't you? I know you want it. I know you love my cock, 'course you do... 'm fucking perfect, baby. 'N you're gonna take every perfect fucking inch of me."

Oh. Okay. Maybe he is full of himself.

Well, he's full of himself and now you're full of him, too.

Satoru isn't shy about pumping a thick, gooey cumload inside you. He isn't shy about frothing up his creampie during round two, either. And he isn't shy about flipping you into missionary and pushing your trembling legs back and sliding his cock in again.

"Can ya do one more for me, baby?"

"Y-yeah!"

"Aw, but you look exhausted..." he grins. "I wouldn't wanna break my favorite babysitter on accident."

"I'm okay, I swear! I can take it!" you start babbling.

Sweat is dripping off your bodies and soaking the bed. The room smells like sex. His muscles are pressing into you. He's diving into you like a swimmer and grunting and making a dent in the wall 'cause that headboard is banging into the wall just as hard as he's banging into you. Neither of you even notice the dent in the wall. You're just stuck together, connected in that one place, fucking like bunnies.

You palm at his abs, pressing flat against them and melting at the feeling of his mmmaturemusclestwitchingohgodbless, you're so gone after feeling his sweat gather on your hand and catching a glimpse of the bulge his cock makes inside you.

Satoru blanks when your small hand feels up his muscles. Now his thrusts got your lower tummy shuddering and you just wonder what he's thinking when his brows furrow together in such serious focus at your fertile pussy.

"Ohmygodohmygodyou'regonnafuckingbreakme!!" you squeal, fisting the pillow and nearly crying into it.

He giggles, slowing his thrusts to a pace your poor, abused pussy can handle better, "Sorry, doll, you jus' got me too excited when you touched me like that."

"Nn!!" you fist the sheets in your hand, realizing just how far he fucked you to the edge of the bed — the two of you were nearly falling off the bed until uh, oops, you were on the floor?

"Ahh-ahhh! Ah! AH! Wh-what kinda... wrestling move is this, Satoru! Fuck, go easy on me!! 'M gonna cum again!!"

He's too into it to bother getting the two of you back on the bed. Now he's just pinning you down on the plush carpeted floor, railing your tight cunt from behind like he owns it. He may as well, honestly.

"Oh yeah?" he grunts, "Cum again on my cock. Lemme see you work it out on my cock. C'mon, isn't this the cock you wanted so badly? Put on a show for me, baby."

"Ahh!!" you sluttily cry out, bouncing your hips up and down and working your pussy on just six of his nine inches.

"Fuuuck... look at that back arch... haha, you already runnin' outta stamina? Yeah, tell me about it. It's hard work fuckin' a big cock, isn't it? Okay, okay, spoiled princess..." he mutters, hearing your exhausted pleas, "Perk that ass up, lemme show you how it's done."

"But this position is so — AH!" you kick your legs as he slides deeper with each quick stroke.

His tip's prodding at a spot you don't even recognize; a sweet gummy spot that's like your off button. You can't keep your mouth shut and now you're getting so loud that he's gotta clamp a hand on your mouth again, pushing you into the carpeted floor and not stopping his hard-hitting thrusts for a looong few seconds, driving it deep.

He picks up his pace, balls slapping into your clit so loudly that he can't even complain about the loudness of your moans. That skin-slapping 'n squelching could wake up the neighborhood.

"Fuck," he grunts, "Ah, ah... stay right there, 'gonna make you a mama..."

You thrash your legs around, "Nn! Please!" you squeal, feeling his warm seed pour into you again without warning. Just that feeling makes you cum. Hard. Satoru's cock freaks out at the feeling of your pussy's milking contractions along his length, making his tender tip spurt out a little bit more cum against your cervix.

It's so bad. You really shouldn't love getting creampied by an older man this much, let alone your... uh, boss?

Worse. He shouldn't have such a big fucking smile on his sweaty face. He shouldn't be rolling his eyes back in satisfaction like that, like he finds it so funny that he actually did it.

"God, you sure loved milking me, huh?" he smiles wide, bangs soaked and sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"Nnn..." you nod, totally exhausted.

He watches you trying to catch your breath, gulping and gasping. He slides his softening cock out of your over-creampied pussy, earning a small whimper from you. Oh, you feel so empty now, it's crazy. Just how did he pack all of that cock inside you? He can't figure it out, either.

"You okay, sugarplum?" he asks sensitively, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

"Yahhh..." you weakly whimper back, wiggling your foot cutely, "Need t' cleanup... need help w-walking..."

All his creampies bubble out your pussy.

He stifles a laugh, feeling a bit guilty. Satoru presses a kiss to your back, peeling you off the floor and practically carrying you to the bathroom — floor and walls black tiles, every corner spelling 'rich boy' in bold letters.

Carefully and slowly, Satoru helps to clean you up, massaging your sore parts with his big hands, peppering your neck in the sweetest little kisses as if he didn't just rearrange your guts and ruin your pussy for other men.

"So... how's it feel, not being a virgin anymore?" he asks with a dirty big bad fuckboy smile.

You simply blush and smile shyly in response. It makes him laugh.

"Aw, are you all shy now, pookums? Shit, I think I fucked tha nasty outta you..."

You nuzzle him, looking about ready to sleep, and it just melts his heart.

"Mm, y'know... Suguru was right about you; you're a real sweetheart. I think I might just have 'ta keep you around for a long time."

ㅤ🍒 x 🐇 x 💗@𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖎

ㅤ𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

@screampied (I KNOW IT'S BEEN LIKE A YEAR SINCE I LAST MENTIONED THIS FIC SORRY LOL) 💗 @pickledballer 💗 @wakashudou 💗@miseryyouth-99 💗 @ilovelokism 💗 @yuji-baby 💗 @natsuw181 💗 @madamechrissy 💗@magical-girl-bunny 💗@arminswifee 💗 @msheds0519 💗@nariminsstuff 💗@strychnynegirl 💗@satorupi 💗 @lvstru 💗@buniibloom 💗@tojijibaby 💗@peach-olic 💗 @mandistromboli 💗 @bwunniibell 💗 @nezukochaaann 💗 @valentine4738 💗 @katthekat1234 💗 @aryanaaa 💗 @astxrismstar 💗 @delusionalandabnormal 💗 @shadykittyperfection 💗 @pettypinkprincessblog 💗 @chososgf04 💗 @eliengoddes 💗 @peachmangoe 💗 @dollyschii 💗 @palegardenrebel

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sammytheotakunerd · 2 days ago

Text

hes one vending machine tall …… obscene

#Megumi your ankles...#uhm #does anyone feed Megumi these days?

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sammytheotakunerd · 4 days ago

Text

Stereotypical . Cliché - LoTCF & Venion Stan! Reader

notes: ngl i took more time dwelling whether i should make this a series. but i never did two series at once because i can't handle the commitment, so i compromised by making it a long oneshot. ALSO TRIGGER WARNING: I put my psych major to work while writing this fic so...

tags: TRIGGER WARNING PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE TAGS (dw nothing too graphic for every warning) depression, eating disorder, anxiety, self-loathing, torture and abuse, guilt, like lots of guilt, passive to mild suicidal thoughts, not being able to control your body, catatonic depression, anhedonia, blood, cursing, vague novel spoilers, Taylor Stan being the best brother out there, open ending i think, can be seen as hurt/comfort

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Tak Tak Tak

The sound of the horses of the carriage filled your ears as soon as you woke up.

…Wait horses?

How could there be horses when you were sure you were inside a lecture hall?

“Young master I’m glad you’re awake. We are nearing Viscount Tolz’s territory.”

Viscount Tolz? That sounds familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it as you just woke up.

You observed the unfamiliar place you woke up in. You seem to be inside a carriage, years of reading manhwas, manhuas, mangas and web novels have gotten you familiar as to what they looked like.

Observing the interior a bit more, you notice that the carriage you are in seems luxurious. That and the servant riding a horse outside the carriage window just called you “young master”.

‘Did I transmigrate? I swear I was just nodding off during one of my lectures…’

“You. What date is it? My head feels fuzzy from sleeping in this uncomfortable carriage.”

‘I’ve rotten my brain reading that damn isekai genre. I already know the drill, I should be a villain or something. I guess I should be glad I didn’t end up as an animal, those things have gotten popular these days…’

You silently shivered at the thought of being a bird or a snake.

“I’m sorry about the seat young master. You’re custom cushion should be arriving tomorrow. As for the date, it is currently year 780 of the Felix Calendar.”

Shit

By the calendar mentioned you could already tell what series you transmigrated to. There was only one series you know that uses Felix Calendar.

Lout of the Count’s Family

And it looks like you got sucked into that novel a year before things began.

“As soon as that arrives install it in my carriage. This thing is as hard as a brick.”

Contrary to what you say, the seat is very soft and comfortable. However, if you really did transmigrate as a villain like in all those manhwas you’ve read then you figured you have to act as bratty as possible.

“I understand young master. We are nearing the villa soon, I’m sure young master Neo has prepared your room so you can rest.”

Fuck. You’re fucked.

Out of all the small villains in existence you just had to steal the body of a dragon abuser. You just had to get in the body of Venion Stan.

Venion out of all people. Even Neo Tolz or Adin or Duke Fredo would’ve been better picks.

But no, the gods of this world just had to put you in the body of an atrocious villain that has no use.

Never mind running away in the countryside while enjoying all the inheritance, there’s no way that black dragon is going to leave you alone.

…And for sure the black dragon is already 3 years old, there’s no saving you now. Anger and despair are already planted in that poor baby’s heart.

Everything moved too quickly to your liking. One moment you were in the carriage, then next Neo was greeting you. After you blinked you’re already in the black dragon’s cell.

‘Can I survive a year before Cale comes here to get the dragon?’

The black dragon can’t use mana, let alone dragon fear. But his vicious gaze full of animosity is already enough to make you feel guilt and fear.

He looked so pitiful. The cell might be spacious, but a cage will still be a cage. He was just there, in the middle of the cell. Chained and unable to fight back.

The buffet in the middle doesn’t help the queasiness you feel in your stomach.

“Do-”

‘Don’t bother with it, I won't be visiting the dragon further.’

The words you want to say are stuck in your throat. Some unknown force is stopping you from uttering them out.

You figured it was so that things would still go according to the plot.

‘I know I wasn’t the greatest in my previous life, but was I so bad that I must experience this?’

Tap Tap Tap

Heels of your shoes tapped against the ground as you walked towards the table. You tried to stop your body, but it was useless. No matter how hard you try to stop yourself you just keep moving.

“Start.”

Your voice- no Venion’s voice said and the torturer started whipping the dragon.

Gulp

There’s a bile in your throat threatening to show itself. However, you swallowed it. The scene may look horrendous, but you didn’t look away. You didn’t stop eating the feast in front of you. You didn’t stop laughing at the small dragon’s demise.

More like you couldn’t.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to go back to your world and curl up in your bed. You wanted all of this to be a dream.

‘Is this the doing of the gods? If so then why must they be cruel.’

“Is there anything else you want to do young master?”

“No just go out. All of you. I will follow in a short while”

Following your order, everyone in the dungeon started heading out. After a few seconds, there was no one but you and the dragon in the room.

Bleurgh!

As soon as there was no one else in the room you vomited. Good thing there was a bathroom attached in the dungeon. The bathroom door was wide open as you puked your gut out, showing the black dragon a view of your pale face. Despite that you didn’t care, your only focus was to get rid of the horrible feeling running through your body.

It’s not as if the dragon would care about its torturer.

That night you spent the entire time in your bed tossing and turning. Too tired to sleep but too scared to face the nightmares you have to combat every time you do.

“Go find a magician or something and commission a temperature-regulating device. I want it installed at the cave before we visit the Tolz territory again.”

“As you wish your highness. However, aren’t you spending a bit too much on a mere pet?”

“You dare think I’m buying all these things for that pesky dragon? I’m buying it for my own comfort, you should be aware of how I want to be comfortable all the time.”

“It seems I made a mistake. I shall prepare everything you desire for the next time you visit the villa.”

Six months has already passed since you became Venion Stan. Adjusting wasn’t easy, especially when there are more times when you can’t control your body than when you can.

But still, you persevered.

It wasn’t like you had a choice anyway. You have already taken over this body so you have to live in it. That and there’s also the fact that you want the original plot to go smoothly.

You want the black dragon to experience justice.

So you persist. Even when the atrocities you did make you puke. Even when you want to kill yourself.

You didn’t

It wasn’t right.

You may not be the original Venion Stan, but it wouldn’t be right to take away the revenge the black dragon deserves. That was why you decided to persevere.

Persevere now and suffer at the dragon's hands later before finally dying.

That was your plan.

You didn’t care about other things anymore. Money, territory, power; none of those things mattered to you anymore. Too disgusted with yourself and everything you have been doing to even attempt to enjoy those things.

However

There’s a silver lining in all of this.

After a month of being in your new body, you have found a loophole. You found a way to combat some of the restrictions to your actions. As long as you sound selfish and villainous enough, you can get away with saying and doing most things.

Using this knowledge to your advantage, you slowly made life for the dragon easier. You bought a lot of things such as cushions, a more comfortable collar, and the temperature-regulating device you just ordered. You also used this fact to lessen your hold on both Taylor Stan and the underworld.

“Venion, I heard you withdrew the people watching over your older brother.”

You scowled at Marquis Stan’s words as if the mere mention of Taylor Stan upsets you.

“Father, what can that cripple do? He has no legs, no power, and barely has any money. Putting people to watch over someone like that will only be a waste of resources.”

Luckily, the marquis agreed with your reasoning and let the situation go while praising how smart you are.

‘Hopefully by this Taylor Stan can gather more information now that my people are now hovering over him.’

That night you managed to sleep for approximately 30 minutes. The longest sleep you’ve experienced since coming over to this world.

Bleurgh!!

It was another torture session and once again you were vomiting everything you ate that week after the session.

While you were busy trying to not make a mess on the bathroom floor, you didn’t notice a certain young dragon observing you.

He may be three years old and he may not know much but his still smart because he's a dragon. That was why he noticed the changes in his captor that started around 8 months ago.

The young dragon noticed the hesitation in your eyes whenever you entered the dungeon. How you were puking from self-hatred and not because of how bad the food was like you said. How your laugh is soulless, especially when he’s being tortured.

How you stagger the slightest bit while standing up after those sessions. How your hands shook ever so slightly from guilt. How you tried to make the cell as comfortable as possible for him despite saying you were doing it for your own comfort.

How your eyes look more lifeless each time he sees you.

The young dragon noticed all of it. He may not know what caused the change, but he knows that everything you’re doing is against your volition.

“Fuck I lost my appetite already. I’m going back to my room. Feed those scraps to that dragon.”

You ordered your servants on your way out. Walking as if your entire body wasn’t shaking ten seconds ago.

The black dragon just watches you with observant eyes.

The “scraps” you were talking about were the feast that was barely even touched. It had always been like this for a few months now. You would barely touch your food and give it to the dragon in the guise of treating him like a dog.

For now, the young one accepts the food. He’ll figure out your intentions later.

“Lessen the guards at the dungeon. Remove all the cushions too, I’m going to change them. Do the same thing to the dragon’s collar too. While you’re at it increase the guards stationed at my quarters. Put the guards in the cave to my room.”

It’s the fated day. Time passed and now is already the day the black dragon will be rescued by Cale, Choi Han, and the cat tribe children. You already met them earlier and acted as arrogant as you could.

Hence the preparation. You need to make it look like the dragon was kept in a horrible condition. Of course, he was… but like much more worse conditions.

“Assassins have been increasing their attempts lately. If I see someone assigned to my room not doing your jobs I’m going to feed you to the sharks. Oh, and you.”

You pointed at a random servant passing by.

“Here’s some gold, buy some alcohol from the inn. Don’t tell anyone I was the one who bought it.”

“May I ask what you’re going to do with the alcohol young master?”

Everyone knows that Venion Stan deemed things not noble enough as disgusting. But you felt guilty for pushing that old man around earlier so you made an excuse.

“Depends on my mood. I’m feeling generous so if you all guard my room tonight then I’ll give you the alcohol tomorrow to drink.”

Everyone held in their shock.

“But if you don’t then I’m going to throw each bottle in your heads while drinking real wine.”

With that, you turned around to lie down on your bed.

That night was the same as every other night you spent in this world. Sleepless. However, that night you felt some weight being lifted off your shoulders as you heard the ruckus Choi Han was causing outside.

‘He should be curled up in Cale’s lap while looking at me viciously’

You stealthily peeked at Cale as you walked towards your seat. Just a moment ago he was trying to rile you up by acting obnoxious. It was hard to try and act like you were keeping your composure when you agreed with everything he said.

“What the..!”

‘Shit did I not put enough strength into my acting?’

You barely felt your blonde hair sway as you slapped the table in supposed shock at Taylor Stan’s entrance.

‘Maybe I should’ve forced myself to eat a little bit more before coming here…’

Gritting your teeth, you ignore the black spots dancing in your vision. Today is a vital day, you can’t ruin the script by fainting because you only ate 3 spoonfuls during breakfast.

Luckily, it looks like everything is going according to the plot. Based on everyone’s reaction, you looked like an enraged noble.

Days following that event were even more chaotic. Not only was the terrorist attack in the plaza terrifying but trying to act as if you were trying to hold on to your position when you just wanted to give it to Taylor was even tougher.

As usual, you persevered.

Comforted yourself at the thought that in a few months, you can embrace death’s sweet presence.

“Do I look different without the blood?”

You felt scared and relieved at the sight of the black dragon that now goes by Raon Miru.

Scared because even though you have resigned yourself to your fate, and felt like you deserve it even, you still feel fear for what’s about to come.

Relief because he looks healthy. Chubby even. You were glad that he was living a good life after he got away from you.

Disregarding your feelings, you let the poisonous fog into your body. Resigning yourself to the four days of hell waiting.

Ugh…

Your body feels sluggish when you wake up.

“What the… It hasn’t even begun yet why does that bastard’s eyes already look dead?”

“That’s what I was telling you human! That punk's eyes tell a different story from his actions.”

Soft. Whatever you were lying down on felt soft. It wasn’t like what you’ve read in the novel where Venion was lying down on the hard ground. The magic collar was also soft. It felt similar to the one you bought for Raon a year ago.

You would know because you made sure to pick the softest one yourself.

“His eyes look more dead than when I last saw him at that cave.”

Eyes? Were they talking about yours?

You didn’t know. You didn’t care.

You just want everything to end.

Gasp!

Someone gasped, you think it was one of the kittens.

“T-tears! Why is he crying? I only put paralysis in poison earlier.”

Crying? You were crying?

You sit up. It was hard because of the chains tying your arms but you still did it.

As you look down on your lap, tears are indeed flowing.

‘Why am I crying? Wasn’t I waiting for this day?’

Everything was already planned in your head. You get tortured then you will go crazy. Then you will kill yourself and make everyone believe you did it because you’re crazy.

So why are you crying now?

Why are you in tears as if you don’t deserve what’s happening to you?

Why do you weep as though you haven’t committed several crimes this past year?

How dare you do so.

How dare you act so pitifully when the child you tortured is right in front of you?

Shameless. Till the end, you’re so shameless.

Click!

Thunk!

Beacrox unlocked the magic collar. As he did you saw it falling on the ground.

“Ah, so there really was fur inside…”

Your voice sounded soulless. It sounded so dead that even you were shocked at how you sounded.

But it also felt cathartic.

After two years of trying to act lively. Two years of acting as if you were fighting for something.

You can finally let out your real emotions.

Two years. It took more than two years for you to be granted that privilege.

“Speak. I heard you bought the same thing for Raon.”

“You really named him Raon…”

Beacrox grabbed your collar. He looked furious. If you remember things correctly, he just heard about the dragon’s story a while ago so you understand his feelings.

“He told you to answer. Why did you buy something like that after 3 years?”

“I was getting tired of looking at the hard metal… There was nothing in that cave but stone and metal…”

Your tears are still flowing. It looks like they were crying a whole year’s worth.

Despite that, you were not shaking, nor were your eyes looked sad.

Contrarily, you looked like those creepy dolls with soulless eyes that cried in horror films.

That low-key scared everyone in the room.

“Before, when I was three, I saw you shaking every time you came to the cave. Why was that?”

What’s happening? Why is there a sudden interrogation? You signed up for torture not for a cross-examination.

Still, you answered the dragon.

“I can’t tell.”

“Is it related to how you can’t seem to say what you want at times?”

Just how much did that kid notice in the few times you visited him?

“Yes. When are you going to get started? I need to meet with my hyung after this…”

Meet him and then die.

So please hurry up already.

“Hey punk, you sound like you already know what’s going to happen.”

“It’s obvious. This place looks exactly like that damn cave.”

You were getting tired of talking.

Actually, you were tired. Period.

“But it doesn’t look like how I left the cave when you rescued him.”

“Yes, because that wasn’t how the cave I lived in looked like. It looked like this.”

And the “this” Raon was talking about felt more homey. There were soft lights and a bunch of pillows and cushions. There were even some stuffed toys and blankets.

Was this how you decorated Raon’s cave?

You can’t remember.

Not that you care.

“Can we get started already please?”

“I thought you were a sadist, not a masochist.”

Something snapped inside you at that moment. You didn’t know why it was Choi Han’s comment that riled you up. Maybe it wasn’t the comment but the waiting that set you off.

“Just do it already! Are you dumb?! This fucking plot will not move unless you fucking torture me!”

In that moment you felt a searing pain in your chest.

“Argh!”

Blood flowed out from your mouth.

‘So that’s what happens when I try to push the restrictions.’

Coughing out blood when you’re body was already weak from not eating and sleeping enough was bound to cause you to faint.

And faint you did.

“Young master Cale said you were unconscious for 4 days. The doctor told me you were both malnourished and fatigued. One of your servants confessed that it’s an achievement if you eat 4 spoonfuls every meal. The young master also mentioned how it seems like you were forced to do everything you’ve done… Just what is happening? Hmm? Tell this hyung of yours.”

“Hyung…”

In the end, you didn’t get tortured…

“What’s going to happen now? What’s going to happen to me?”

You diverged from the fate carved out for Venion Stan.

That made you scared.

The restriction placed upon you to prevent you from straying from the plot scared you.

“Everything will be okay. But you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Taylor Stan hugged you, and you felt disgusted with yourself that you dare find warmth and comfort in that hug. Disgusted that you dared cry in front of him when you tried to kill him in the past.

But you couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t help that your hyung was soft and caring even though he was stern and strict.

“I’m scared hyung. I’m a horrible person.”

As you speak you notice Cale in the corner of the room. He was trying to go out to give you two some privacy.

“Please stay.”

‘You deserve to hear the truth too.’

Cale stopped moving at your words.

At that moment you decided to spill everything. Venion Stan’s role was already done. Even if it wasn’t, you already strayed from the path written for him. So you’re pulling all stops now.

“I’m a horrible person that did horrid crimes. I know that, I did them with my own hands after all. But I didn’t want to do them.”

You felt that stinging pain slowly coming back.

“There are times when I can’t control the things I say or do. No matter how hard I try my body won’t listen to me.”

The taste of blood in your mouth is back. You tried to act as calm as possible and nonchalantly spit it out in a napkin as if you were just wiping your mouth.

“I think it’s the god’s doing. It’s fated that I must be a bad guy for everything in the future to work out.”

You wiped your mouth again.

“I couldn’t resist it. But I found a loophole.”

Wipe

“If I make it look like what I was doing is villainous then my movements will not be restricted as much.”

“So when you removed the people watching over my residence..?”

You nodded while wiping your mouth once again.

However, this time Taylor snatched the napkin out of your hands.

“You’re bleeding..!”

“Ah…”

You were wiping so much blood that it already seeped out. Causing for Taylor and Cale to see the blood.

“I should’ve used a darker colour…”

“Stop talking. I’ve already heard everything I need to know.”

“I have nothing else to say to you anyway.”

The two men started walking out of the door when you called out to someone.

“Young master Cale, can you please stay? I must tell you something.”

The marquis and the young master exchanged a glance before one of them left the room.

“What is it?”

At Taylor’s exit, Raon undid his invisibility.

“It’s not fate.”

Cale and Raon looked at you as if you’d lost your head. Honestly, you wish you did. Being beheaded right now is better than living with these horrible feelings.

“It’s plot. You should know what I’m talking about.”

Luckily, Marquiss Stan left the napkin so you could wipe your mouth again.

“I think the universe, not the gods, made a mistake with me. But despite their mistake, they are insistent on going with the plot laid out.”

You discarded the napkin. It’s already drenched with too much of your blood that it can’t be used anymore.

“But don’t worry. This plot is very beneficial to you. You just have to follow whatever you think is right. You can disregard whatever anyone says. Even if that anyone is a god.”

‘Unlike me’

Cale handed you a handkerchief and you wiped your mouth with it.

“Lastly, I’m sorry Raon Miru-nim. My only choice was to either keep torturing you or throw you out. I couldn’t throw you out, because if I did then you wouldn’t meet the young master.”

“It’s okay… I am great and mighty so I figured out long ago that you were being forced.”

“Thank you.”

With that the dragon became invisible again and the two head out of the room.

Cleanup was easy. Of course, it was. Everything was already planned out beforehand.

The previous marquis was arrested and his people were successfully rooted out. You got sentenced to house arrest.

Meaning, you got a slap on the wrist.

It confused you. Why did you get such a light sentence when you did so many horrible things? It didn’t even feel like house arrest because your hyung always kept you by his side and personally took care of you.

“How about you? How are you and your brother doing?”

You heard Cale speaking on the other side of the communication device. But you just kept your head low and stared at your palms, unmoving.

“That…”

Marquis Stan hesitated.

“His been listless since that day. I checked with an expert and they said his in a catatonic state.”

You blur out the rest of their conversation. It wasn’t like there was a need to listen anyway. There’s nothing for you to do now. Your role is done but you can’t die.

You're tired.

So so fucking tired.

Tired of waking up. Tired of moving. Tired of thinking. Tired of breathing.

Tired of living.

So you opted to not move. Tune out the world around you. Maybe if you’re lucky they’ll leave you to rot in that lavish room of yours.

“Your eyes look more lively today. Do you have enough energy to speak?”

You blinked once. Then twice. You don’t know how many days have passed already. All of them look like a giant blur in your mind.

For the first time in a while, you moved your body to look at your surroundings.

As you take in your surroundings you notice that there’s a storm outside. That and Taylor Stan seem to have put you in the wheelchair he used to use.

“Taylor Stan…”

“Call me hyung.”

Did you deserve to? Well, it doesn’t matter since he ordered you to.

“Hyung”

“Yes, my dongsaeng?”

“Why won’t you kill me?”

The wheelchair stopped in its tracks. It was because the one pushing it stopped walking.

“Why would I kill you?”

“Why would you not kill me?”

You had no way of knowing just how scared Taylor was at this moment. Your voice sounded so soulless. As if you were asking about the weather and not about your death. He was already scared that one day he would just wake up to find you dead. Your questions and your way of asking them are not helping his fear.

“I told you, I wouldn’t kill my family.”

“Ah…”

Silence lingered as the two of you went to your room. Inside, the first thing you noticed was the door on the wall.

“That’s a connecting door. It’s connected to my room.”

“Very fitting for a criminal like me that needs to be monitored at all times.”

“That’s not…”

Taylor Stan chose to sigh instead of answering. After he did, he called the servants to help you with your nighttime routine.

“You all can go now, I’ll take it from here.”

Servants filed out of your room as your brother took the brush from a servant's hand.

“You know that this is useless right?”

“Why is that?”

Taylor continued brushing your blonde hair that now reaches past your shoulders.

“It’s not like I’ll sleep. There’s never a night where I slept for more than 30 minutes. I think.”

“Maybe if I stay by your side you’ll sleep better.”

You didn’t respond. You just watched in the mirror how your hyung gently brushed your hair. At some point, you pulled your legs up to your chest and started hugging them.

Taylor Stan didn’t seem to mind your movements. In fact, he seems to encourage them.

“Let’s eat dinner now. Do you want to walk?”

“No.”

The mere thought of moving more than you already did makes you feel nauseated.

Your hyung nodded and started pushing the wheelchair again. As he did the sight of the food prepared on your table caught your eyes. It wasn’t a feast like how you were served in the past.

Instead, there were just two simple identical meals on the table.

It reminded you of how you used to eat your meals back on earth.

“You’re eating too?”

“I haven’t eaten yet. I figure we can eat together since Cage is not here.”

She must be in the super rock’s villa or something.

Eat together was what you did. Well, more like Taylor ate while you take a few bites and play with your food.

“Do you not want to eat anymore?”

“No.”

“It’s fine, just leave it there. You already ate thrice more than you usually would. It’s okay to take it slow.”

That’s true. You ate 10 spoonfuls today when you would usually just take a bite or two. Three at most.

Maybe a gentle company and a simple meal did the trick. But you aren’t sure.

After the meal, you brushed your teeth before lying down on the bed. Taylor was sitting on a couch beside your bed as promised.

That night, for the first time since you arrived in this world, you managed to sleep almost the whole night.

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sammytheotakunerd · 4 days ago

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This is so stupid I’m so sorry

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sammytheotakunerd · 5 days ago

Text

Stereotypical . Pretermit - LoTCF & Venion Stan! Reader

a/n: please read the tags in detail and proceed carefully. If you are going through something please contact your local emergency hotline or talk to someone about it. I do not condone any of the toxic/harmful behaviours shown in this fic, but rather I'd like for this to serve as a message of how suicide affects everyone involved. Also holy fckin hairball this is 18 pages with 5400+ words

tags: PLEASE READ CAREFULLY AND BE WARNED! semi-detailed aftermath of suicide attempt, gore?, amnesia, inspired by freud's concept of repression still hate the guy tho, hints of depression, insomnia, hints of eating disorders if you squint, hurt/comfort, angst only lasts for a bit tho dw, isekai, yandere everyone if you squint really hard, everyone is trying to deny that they like reader (platonically), Taylor is the best brother

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Navigation Masterlist prev

@areaderspov said:

Hello hello!

I just read your fanfic of Venion!Reader aND I LOVE IT SO MUCH😭 I ACTUALLY TEARED UP ANYWAYS—

Did you ever thought of making and alternative version? —or angst sorta? Like, imagine if reader just gives up on life BUT WITH A PLOT TWIST.

THey could either go back to their world or suddenly be brought to Cale's world again BUT they just like, had a feeling of what happened, but nothing cleared, they mostly confused on what's going on but are trying to be… Chill, in a way. Like everything was only a nightmare and they had no recollection of it.

Maybe they could even sorta recognize Taylor? Like the feeling of their hyung but not really knowing why the connection.

Imagine that Raon is the first to recognize them, and they are in a way very happy since they looked so content, so different.

They don't have the "shackles" anymore so, I'm not sure how everyone else might play it.

Hope you like this idea though!<3

“Hey, wake up. Class ended already.”

You feel someone shake you awake as you groggily open your eyes. Looking around the lecture hall, you see that there really is no one else in the room aside from you and your friend.

“Where should we eat? I think I'm craving something sweet…”

Slinging your bag over your shoulders, you ask your friend for food recommendations. Your friend hummed as you guys walked out of the lecture hall onto the busy hallways of your university.

“There are no classes after this, so we can check out that new cafe outside the campus. Are you craving something specifically?”

You hummed as the two of you exited the building successfully. The two of you walk towards the gate to get away from the busy campus and be on your merry way towards the cafe.

“I weirdly want to eat apple pies…”

“Apple pies? You've never even had one before. Why are you craving something you've never eaten?”

Your friend stopped walking for a second to look at you weirdly before leading you to where the cafe is.

“I mean, you can crave something you've never had. But hmm, it is a bit weird because I feel like I've eaten it plenty before.”

After a few minutes of more banter and walking, you finally reached the newly opened cafe. The interior was minimalist, taking into account aesthetic pictures for social media. Their colour scheme was beige and black, and there were some plants and paintings on the wall.

The cafe seating looks like an open area. No booths can be found, but the seats are still comfortable-looking couches.

Your friend asks you what else you want aside from pie as you eye which seat would be the best for the two of you. You tell your friend your order before making a beeline for the couch seat in the corner of the cafe beside the windows.

As you sit on the couch, you can feel your body physically relaxing. Weeks of sleepless nights and early mornings are absorbed by the comfortable plush of the seat. Thankfully, those days are about to end as today marks the start of your summer break.

Few more minutes passed by before your friend finally arrived with both of your orders. After finally settling, the two of you continued your light talk while eating your well-deserved sweet treats.

* * *

Summer break was absolutely the best. No deadlines to think about, no group mates to accommodate, no professors to chase for requirements. It's just you, your bed, and your phone.

Six weeks into the vacation and you're still bedrotting. You even go as far as to refuse whatever plans your friends present to you. Well, you didn't mean to spend the entire vacation just lounging around the house; actually, you initially just planned to spend a week and a half catching up on sleep before going out with friends. However, for some reason, your body felt incredibly heavy, and your mind was exhausted. Leading to you spending a month and a half at home to sleep.

Life of a slacker is nice. You actually enjoyed doing nothing. It’s just that there seems to be one problem… you feel more tired after sleeping.

It wasn’t always like this. In fact, you’re usually a good sleeper. Everything just started after that one time you fell asleep during class before the start of summer break. After that time, it was like no amount of sleep could quench the tiredness you felt.

Was it because of that weirdly realistic dream you had that day?

But you could barely even remember it, so it couldn’t be.

‘Well, it was just a dream, so it feels silly to give it this much meaning.’

You thought to yourself as you finally got up to prepare your first meal of the day. It’s already 5 pm, and you are just now starting your day. Well, you live alone anyway, so no one’s going to scold you. Plus, you’re still eating, so you’re still living a healthy life.

With that justification in mind, you finished eating the small portion of food you prepared for yourself before going back to bed.

Days passed until there was only one week left until the start of the new semester. Not once did you go out, even your enrollment was done online, and you figured you could just update your ID on the first day of classes.

Even after all that rest, you still felt tired. Your mental state was also a mess for no reason. Sometimes you would even start crying out of the blue.

Like right now, for example.

You were merely scrolling on your phone when suddenly tears started dripping from your eyes. Unsure of the cause yet still continuing to cry, your heart clenches at the random picture of a dragon plushie presented on your phone.

You would tear up just like this at random times of the day.

‘I have to get myself together. Classes are starting soon, and this year is very critical.’

With that conviction, you fell asleep with a heavy mind and an even heavier heart.

* * *

“CALL A HEALER HURRY”

“EVERYONE ON STANDBY, CANCEL ALL APPOINTMENTS AND DON’T LET VISITORS INSIDE”

Frantic shouts and hurried footsteps filled Raon’s ears as soon as he teleported in the Stan territory. The young dragon just wanted to checked on Venion Stan but such a chaotic scene welcomed him instead.

The curious — and worried — toddler followed the voice while remaining invisible. He could recognise the man shouting to be Taylor Stan. Just what happened to make such a usually composed man sound so frantic?

Raon’s question was answered as he peeked inside Venion’s room, the source of the chaos. From outside, he could see how healers and Cage are desperately trying to heal the young noble. Raon could also see Venion’s bloody wrist.

Copious amounts of blood dripped from the blonde’s wrist onto the bedsheets. There was too much that his bed was stained red; something the maids and butlers are trying to clean, but to no avail.

Taylor Stan can be seen besides the unconscious man. Desperately trying to put pressure on Venion’s wounds to stop bleeding. His own shaking hands gripping onto his brother’s wrist while he tries to stop the tears from escaping his blurry eyes.

Unable to take the sight in anymore, Raon teleports back to where Cale is. His paws shaking as he cries on the redhead’s chest while explaining what he saw.

It wasn’t until the next day he heard a word from the Stan Marquisate.

“I… I’m not sure how to explain what happened, Young Master Cale.”

Taylor Stan said on the other side of the communication device. Cale’s gaze hardened at the sight of the Marquiss; he looks so gaunt, as if he hasn’t slept in a week. Clearly, something has happened to Venion Stan.

“Take your time.”

Cale said while holding onto Raon’s invisible yet shaking paw from his lap.

“Yesterday morning… when I visited my dongsaeng’s room to start our day, there was a strong stench of blood. So I opened the door and…”

Taylor Stan sighed deeply, his voice shaking but he pushed through it as he has to break the news.

“Blood was everywhere, Venion’s wrist was bleeding, he wounded himself too deeply. At first, I didn’t know how he even managed—no, I didn’t have the time to think about anything else, I frantically called Cage and the other healers to try and save him.”

Even Cale had to take a sharp breath. No wonder Raon looked so traumatised. The scene yesterday was too unsightly for anyone to witness, let alone for a child to see it first-hand.

“We managed to stabilise his condition, we also found out that he did it by breaking the drinking glass on his bedside… but that’s not where it ends.”

Cale and Raon stiffen at the news, only knowing about the news of Venion’s critical condition.

“Did he try again…?”

“No, young master, he hasn’t even woken up yet. We made him wore a magic bracelet that would keep track of his consciousness.”

Then what was the problem? Isn’t everything fine now unless Venion Stan’s health somehow becomes critical again?

Seeing the confused look on Cale’s face, Taylor further explained the situation.

“We are confused too, because later in the afternoon, my dongsaeng disappeared. But the bracelet showed no signs of being removed, nor did it alert us that he woke up.”

Distress became more evident in Taylor’s face as he explained. The news also further shocked the human and dragon combo. Just how and why did Venion disappear?

“Human, we have to look for him! He's unconscious and alone!”

“Wait.”

Cale spoke, making the two look at him.

“First, is there any possibility that he found a way to bypass the bracelet?”

Taylor thought about it for a second before speaking.

“It’s pretty strong as Cage made it and is monitoring it personally, so…”

“Ah…”

“Yes…”

Silence befalls all of them. This seems to be a very tricky case, no one knows where to even start.

“My men are discreetly looking for him, but there’s no progress yet.”

“...I’ll also keep an eye out.”

“Thank you so much, Young Master Cale.”

As soon as the call disconnected, Cale couldn’t help but slouch and sigh deeply.

“Haaaa”

Just what could’ve happened to Venion Stan?

Is this related to the plot he was talking about? Is the universe, or maybe even the gods, making Vention pay for deviating from the novel?

Cale doesn’t pity him.

Cale can’t pity him. His a grown man who doesn’t need Cale’s concerns.

No matter how child-like he seems to Cale—even if the redhead won’t admit it—Cale won't pity Venion Stan.

‘But if I don’t do anything and something happens to Venion, Raon might destroy a country…’

Just the mere thought of the toddler going on a rampage was enough to send a chill down Cale’s spine. He really needs to find Venion before that happens.

As if sensing Cale Henituse’s distress, Ron knocks on his door, stating that he bought lemon tea.

“Ron, scatter your people. Tell them to look for Venion Stan discreetly.”

The attendant looked like he had a lot of questions, but dared not voice them after seeing the distressed look on his young master's face.

“I'll inform them, young master.”

Cale has his people stationed all over this world and the next, surely they'll be able to find Venion on time.

…Right?

* * *

Surprisingly, that usual heaviness in your body was gone when you woke up this time. You could even say that you felt oddly refreshed. It's a feeling you haven't experienced during the summer break.

You actually felt so light and refreshed that you didn't notice how you weren't in your apartment at first. But soon enough, you noticed that the bed you are in seems softer than usual. The mattress doesn't feel like something a broke uni student can afford.

“Wha- where..?”

The realisation of not being in the comfort of your home broke your dream-like trance. You looked around for clues to determine where you might be.

‘Did I get kidnapped? I’m not worth the ransom money though… Plus, if I was kidnapped, then the kidnapper is certainly richer than me.’

So why would you get kidnapped? But at the same time, there's no other explanation you could think of to justify the sudden change in setting.

‘I haven't drunk alcohol in 2 months, so I was certainly NOT drunk last night.’

After looking around for a while, you found a fancy vanity table against the wall. You got up from the cosy bed to try and inspect it. The colour was gold and certainly looked expensive.

For a moment, the possibility of being kidnapped by a rich mafia boss who's obsessed with you crossed your mind. Because all the items in the room look too high-class.

‘No, I'm too antisocial to even try and catch something like…’

“What the actual fuck???”

You couldn't help but trail off your thoughts and curse out loud as you look at your reflection in the mirror. At first, you just wanted to inspect the drawers of the vanity, hoping to find some clue as to where you were. But instead, you saw how you totally don't look like yourself.

Smooshing and pinching your facial features, you could see the mirror in front of you do the same, confirming that you are indeed looking at yourself.

“Isn't this Venion Stan from the novel I read a few months ago?”

You asked yourself as you observed the mirror reflecting you, pinching and pulling your own cheeks. Your brand-new pale white face with blonde hair staring back at you

As you further observe your new body in the mirror you couldn't help but notice some differences from the Venion Stan you knew. First was that he was skinnier than how he was drawn in the manhwa. He already had a lanky build from what you read, but he's even skinnier than that.

The second thing you noticed was how long his hair was. In the manhwa, you recall Venion having above-the-shoulder blonde hair. However, the reflection staring back at you has hair that reaches past the armpits.

‘His pretty… too bad his trash.’

Having had enough of pulling your reddened cheeks, you decided to explore your new vicinity, surprisingly adapting well to the fact that you transmigrated.

The house was small but certainly luxurious. It was just enough for one noble to reside in. You got the idea that it must be some kind of vacation house, the more you see the interior.

While walking towards the front door, you suddenly had a realisation. Venion might look different because it's been a while since the part of him being captured by Taylor Stan.

Then is this house not a vacation house, but something used to house-arrest Venion instead?

“Even if this is prison for that guy, this is practically a mansion for someone like me. I have no reason to complain.”

You don't have to get involved in the plot, and you get to have this fancy house to yourself? It can't get any better than this. Sure, it might be small for noble standards, but for an ordinary, modern person like you? This place was better than anything on the housing market.

Finally, you reached the front door. As you push the doors open, lush, green grass greeted you. Nature said hello with a gush of wind that refreshed you from all the thinking you’ve been doing.

As you step out, it looks like this house was built in the middle of the forest. The perfect place for people who like peace and quiet.

It’s perfect.

This is actually really perfect.

You’re sure Cale and his group can handle bringing world peace to this world. It also looks like Venion’s part in the story is done. There’s absolutely nothing left for you to do other than sit back and enjoy this simple life given to you.

‘If they come to visit, I’ll just pretend to be insane, that should be easy enough.’

Is what you thought to yourself.

“Did you know how worried I was?! Why didn’t you even try to go home?!”

…Wasn’t Venion Stan on house arrest? So why is Taylor Stan on your front door frantically looking for you like you’re a naughty child that ran away from home? You thought they just didn’t care about you anymore, that’s why they didn’t visit for months. But it turns out that you were actually missing?

Just what is going on?

To know what happened, we must first travel back to the time when you first woke up in that house.

Cage was actually in the Super Rock Villa at the time of the incident. She had a momentary break and decided to visit and see how Cale was doing as well as give updates about the search in person. The excommunicated priestess had seen how worried the young master was about you and thought it would be better to update him in person.

Well, it was actually Raon who was worried, but Cage digressed.

The moment the two are speaking to each other, the bracelet Cage was wearing suddenly emitted a faint, yellow light, surprising both of them.

“Is that..?”

Cale asked, to which Cage softly nodded.

“Yes, I have to go back and inform everyone of what happened.”

“Please do that, I’ll also inform Ron and the others.”

With that, their conversation was cut short as both went their separate ways to alert their respective people.

“Human! I think I know where he is. I need to go to him and check if he's there!”

Raon dashed over to Cale as soon as the redhead entered the room. The toddler is restless, already preparing a magic circle to go to you at any given moment now.

“Slow down and explain.”

Cale got hold of his child, who was flying in circles, as he was starting to get dizzy from watching. Raon complied and stayed put before starting to explain.

“The kind grandma who wears her hair in a bun! I remember Venion talking to her about building a rest house before. He might be there, and that grandma is the only one who knows the location!”

That grandma in question is actually spending a sound retirement with her family. Venion’s older brother, Taylor Stan, gave her money and house last year as Venion’s birthday gift since the younger man wouldn’t accept any other gift Taylor had.

Wasting no time, Cale informed Ron of what happened before they set off to that grandma’s house in order to know if Venion really had a secret rest house.

“Oh dear, is that so..? He has a house in a forest near Ten Finger Mountains that I still sometimes go to to maintain. I haven’t gone there this month to clean. Usually, I would not give the address even to Master Taylor, but I’ll give it to you since Venion says he trusts you and this is an emergency.”

Cale Henituse’s face soured for a moment. First of all, when did Venion say that? And second, he thought this grandma was retired? Why is she still working for Venion when she should be spending it with her grandchildren?

“Don’t look at this old woman like that.”

The grandmother laughed as she handed him a piece of paper containing the coordinates of the house.

“The young master told me countless times not to go there anymore. But like you, I’ve also grown fond of that child, he’s also like one of my grandchildren. Plus, the nature there is good for this old body of mine.”

Cale’s face soured even more at her words. He is NOT fond of Venion Stan in any way, shape, or form.

‘I have no reason to be emotionally attached to such a guy. I’m just doing this to prevent Raon from throwing a tantrum.’

Cale and his group thanked the old lady before going back to the underground villa to plan their next move.

* * *

“He’s there… human, his actually there!”

Raon shouted in Cale’s mind as they saw your silhouette from a distance. It was just the two with Ron visiting the rest house, where you are currently residing. The three of them teleported a few feet away from the house in order to prepare for whatever might be waiting for them.

Well, they just didn’t expect to see you have such a serene look on your face.

Your face looks peaceful, free of worries even. A look Raon has never seen on your face. It’s also something Cale had never read back when he was reading TBoaH.

“Something’s wrong, human! But I think it’s a good kind of wrong?”

Raon questioned, to which Cale nodded along. Something is definitely amiss. The Venion Stan Cale knows wouldn’t be able to get over the trauma you’ve been through like some amnesiac…

…

Wait…

Could it be..?

“Ron.”

“Yes, young master?”

“Approach Venion and pretend that you’re a lost old man wandering the woods.”

“Of course, young master.”

Raon and Cale watched from a listening distance as Ron approached you, whose tending to the flowers in the mini garden in front of the house. Your hair was tied in a half-bun, exposing your forehead. There’s also dirt on the cuffs of your sleeves as proof that you were taking care of the flowers before the assassin interrupted.

“Excuse me, young sir, could you perhaps tell me where we are? I was travelling with my young master, and we got lost with no means to go back to our inn.”

Cale could see a look of recognition pass your eyes as Ron smiled benignly at you.

‘Was I wrong..?’

The redhead had a moment of doubt, perhaps you actually found a way to get over your trauma? But if you did, then why would you run away? Assuming that you ran away at least.

“Uh… uhm… actually I…”

You stuttered, internally panicking for a variety of reasons.

Why is Cale’s servant, who's actually an assassin in disguise?

Is Cale also here?

Are they actually lost?

Are they here to get more revenge?

How are you going to tell them that you actually don’t know anything, let alone where you are?

“Are you perhaps hesitant to talk to me because I’m a stranger? I’m sorry for that. My name is Ron Molan, and I serve the Henituse household. To be specific, I am currently serving Young Master Cale Henituse.”

Ron made an excuse for you to which you graciously accepted.

“Ah yes, that’s part of it… But it’s also because I don’t know where we are… You see, I don’t really remember anything? I just woke up here one day with no recollection whatsoever. I’m sorry that I can’t be of help in getting out of here, but my house has some spare bedrooms that I can lend to your party as you try and figure out how to get out of here.”

You decided to tell Ron the truth as you figured they are not here to get more revenge, at least.

‘This is their scamming approach, so I should be fine. I don’t have any powers or knowledge that would help Cale save the world anyway.’

With that conviction, you truthfully explained the situation to the assassin as you don’t have much of a choice anyway.

“Is that so, then we’ll take you up on your kind offer. I shall go fetch my young master”

Just as Ron was about to turn around, Raon spoke in his head.

“Lemonade Gramps! The weak human said it’s okay to tell Venion that the great and mighty me is here!”

“Oh, and please do keep this a secret, but we have a great and mighty dragon with us.”

Ron smiled benignly once more before turning around to where Cale and Raon were. Leaving you confused by the bombshell information you just received.

‘...Did I assess the situation wrong? They don’t disclose that information just to anyone, right?’

* * *

“I’ll entrust my brother to you then, young master. Please take care, and I’ll try to go there as soon as I can.”

Taylor’s words went in Raon’s one ear and out the other. It has been a few hours since they entered your house, and Raon has been in a dazed ever since. The toddler just can’t believe his seeing you act so lively… smile so freely.

Raon had only seen such things in his dreams.

It’s a shame that you can’t remember anything, but on the other hand, he was also glad you had no recollection of what happened. Raon doesn’t think he would get the chance to see you so content if you still have your memories intact.

The black dragon was so out of it the whole day. Sure, he still performed his tasks well, but everyone could tell how he was constantly in a daze. Looking at everything as if it were his first time seeing the world once more.

He also seemed to cling more to you, cuddling you up every chance he gets, instead of sticking close to Cale as he normally would. The toddler’s actions confused you, made you wonder what happened in the past that made Raon act so close with the person who was his supposed torturer.

Of course, you weren’t aware, but this is just Raon giving you all the affection he had been holding out on before. The you before Raon could see looked so fragile that he was even scared of touching you the wrong way. Fearing that one wrong touch would make you disappear forever.

And after seeing your pale skin and bloody arm as healers worked hard to revive you a few months ago?

Yeah, Raon is definitely not letting go of you anytime soon.

Honestly, it’s not just Raon acting like this. You can’t tell as they hide it better, but Cale and Ron also seem to be on guard. Not the type of guard that is on edge, but rather protective.

It’s especially apparent when you try cooking dinner. The moment you tried to pull out a knife, Ron was by your side, insisting that it’s a servant's job to do such things. That was the worst case, though, for most of the time, the two opted to observe you, making sure that you would not revert to your old mental state.

Finally, after a few more exchanged words, the call between Cale and Taylor ended, and Raon could lift the soundproof barrier he had placed to prevent you from hearing their conversation. They plan on slowly breaking the news to you tomorrow to give you time to prepare for Taylor’s arrival. They also plan to make Cage go first, acting as if she will be the one to inform Taylor of your existence after “miraculously finding a way to contact Cale”.

Raon trusts his weak human’s plan. Cale had never conjured up a plan that didn’t work. Sure, the toddler hates it when their plans end up making their human cough up blood or pass out, but never once had their plans failed badly before.

With that peace of mind, Raon was about to fall asleep when he suddenly heard a small whimper.

It seems to be coming from your room.

“Human, Venion is crying…”

At once, Cale and Raon went to your room. However, your bedroom door was already open once they arrived.

Ron, fast as ever, was already tending to you.

“It seems to be a nightmare, young master.”

The servant said as he wiped the tears from your eyes. Ron held no affection for you in particular. There’s no reason for him to have one. Although you did remind him of his son when they first ran away to the Henituse territory.

But that’s a different matter.

“Or perhaps memories.”

Cale spoke as he and Raon walked closer to your bed. As they did, they could hear your soft whimpers of “Don’t” and “I’m tired”. Raon couldn’t help but tear up a little as he looked at your state.

“Human, does this mean his going to remember? Maybe showing up was a mistake… what if we made him remember those bad memories?”

Raon cried as he lay down beside you, using his paws to wipe the continuous tears flowing down your cheeks.

“I’m not sure. Let’s observe how he does tomorrow.”

Cale answered honestly, a bit at a loss on how he should proceed.

But it’s not like they can do much if you really do remember.

Thankfully, you continued to act happy and lively the next morning.

“Did you sleep well?”

Cale casually asked you as Ron served breakfast.

“I did, I’ve always slept well since being here! Maybe it’s the nature surrounding us, but I’ve never felt this relaxed before. Hmm, though I think I had a dream? I never seem to remember my dreams these days, though.”

‘He subconsciously remembers… we need to be careful not to make him fully remember just yet.’

Cale thought to himself as he chose his next words carefully.

“So we managed to contact someone last night.”

“Really?”

You beamed at him, genuinely happy that you’ll soon find out where you are.

“Mhm, it’s a priestess named Cage. She’s coming here tomorrow to get us.”

Cale and Raon gauged your reaction; you seem to be doing well, so the redhead continued speaking.

“You actually know her. She’s a friend of your brother.”

“Oh you mean Taylor Stan? The one you told me about?”

The redhead hummed affirmatively as he continued to eat his breakfast. From the kitchen, he could see Ron staying alert as well, ready for anything that could possibly happen in case you remembered something.

“There’s a chance she already told your brother about you, so there’s a chance he’ll follow here after her.”

If you’re being honest, the thought of meeting Taylor Stan scares you. He was lenient to Venion in the novel, but he may still harbour some ill will becuase of all the things the original Venion Stan did.

But for some reason, you don’t think that will happen.

On the contrary, the mere thought of him brings you a sense of comfort. Like a long-lost hyung you haven’t seen for a long time.

Weird… but maybe the original Venion Stan had some lingering brotherly feelings for Taylor?

‘What kind of loving brother incapacitates their hyung though?’

* * *

And that now brings us back to the current situation.

“Did you know how worried I was?! Why didn’t you even try to go home?!”

Taylor Stan couldn’t help but hug you tightly the moment you opened the door. You think a lone tear or two landed on your shoulder, but you’re unsure.

“I didn’t want to risk getting lost…”

You tried to reason helplessly as everyone else inside the house went out to the front porch to greet the marquis. All of you talked for a few minutes before going back to your respective homes. Of course, Taylor promised you that you could go back to this house anytime you want.

Life with Taylor is comfortable, cushy even. You’re supposed to be a convicted criminal, but he spoils you so much.

“Yeah, you’re actually serving your sentence right now. Your punishment is house arrest, and since you ran away from home, your sentence has been extended.”

Taylor smiled at you, and you could only look confused at his logic.

Well, it’s not like you can contest the marquis’ words. Plus, everything works out well for you.

* * *

“...Can I call you hyung?”

You suddenly spoke as the two of you were eating dinner. It’s been a month since you returned home, and you’ve been meaning to ask for a week now.

You’re not sure if you have the right to do so, but he really just gives off a comfortable feeling. Unsure why, but his been your safe person ever since you came to this world despite him not being your favourite character when you were reading the novel.

Meanwhile, Taylor is having a hard time keeping a straight face. He feels so giddy, so excited that you asked to call him hyung, as he had to tell you before. If he as being completely honest, he was glad you lost your memories. Sure, you may have a hard time sometimes, but it's miles better than your state months before.

It’s a fact that everyone around you could agree on that you had no clue about.

“Of course you could, you’re my dongsaeng after all.”

A wide smile etched your face at the approval.

“Okay, hyung!”

But then it fell as you remembered something.

“Honestly, I feel bad I can’t remember anything. I seem to have a good relationship with everyone, and I can’t remember a thing…”

“You don’t have to be. You remember what we told you about you suddenly disappearing because of some unknown force when you were sick, right? All of us are just glad you made it back safely.”

Taylor stopped eating for a moment in order to talk to you seriously. He does not want to see you spiralling into any kind of underserve guilt once more.

Your previous wrecked mental state really took a toll on everyone.

But that’s now water under the bridge.

Right now, the only thing that matters is the fact that you are happy and smiling.

Taylor Stan couldn’t ask for anything more.

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sammytheotakunerd · 5 days ago

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I feel love and insanity for this version of Venion.

Beacrox grabbed your collar. He looked furious. If you remember things correctly, he just heard about the dragon's story a while ago so you understand his feelings.

"He told you to answer. Why did you buy something like that after 3 years?" "I was getting tired of looking at the hard metal... There was nothing in that cave but stone and metal..." Your tears are still flowing. It looks like they were crying a whole year's worth. Despite that, you were not shaking, nor were your eyes looked sad.

Contrarily, you looked like those creepy dolls with soulless eyes that cried in horror films.

Close up

Fanwork/fanart made by me, Chika. An illustration I made based on @weirdsht's Cliché story. It's a story where the original Venion Stan went poof and got replaced by you/reader. I cried for hours. Kudos to that anon, too. I will bark at you for suggesting that scenario if I ever see you. Please support the author, they're like, amazing. They write stories if you're interested :)

The lighting is so funny

Other drawing(s) of mine you can see if you'd like :∆

Cale Henituse — "Even though Cale Henituse was called a lot of distasteful names, no one would dare to ever call him ugly."

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sammytheotakunerd · 5 days ago

Text

More Than Palatable - Vampire!Cale/Reader

a/n: I tried so hard to try and think of a premise to make this a oneshot, but I can't think of any that would be finished in less than 3k words TT. Also, I think I made this so suggestive, and I wasn't even going for that. The amount of innuendos here are... yeah...

tags: yandere cale if you squint, i accidentally made it sensual oops, cale is a lil sadist even if he doesn't know it

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Navigation Masterlist

anon said: Hii can you do vampire Cale with reader that has blood thats really rare kind of like Sanemi from Demon Slayer where demons go crazy for his blood ANYWAYS LOVE YOUR WORKK

You appeared in his life just right when Cale thinks that he was getting used to living his life as a vampire.

He thought he had his impulses controlled, his alternatives secured. However, everything shattered the moment he got a whiff of your scent.

Normally, he would be disgusted at the thought of sinking his teeth into a living, breathing being unless he was super hungry. It's because, before transmigrating, he was just a normal human, so the thought of drinking someone's blood directly feels off.

But you?

You smell so delicious. He needs to have a taste. Sure, he still doesn't bode well with the idea of sucking your blood, but he needs to have a taste.

And by some miracle, he somehow managed to not only make you join him, but also allow him to give your blood.

Man is in paradise every time he gets a taste.

Later, he finds out from Hans that he acts like that towards you because you were born with a special type of blood that tastes sweeter than normal blood.

Despite that, who is Cale if not a man of absolute control?

His intake of your blood is so carefully controlled. He doesn't want you to pass out. He takes such good care of you so that you won't think of backing out (not that he'd allow you).

The only time he loses control is during the time he would overwork his ancient powers and feel super starved afterwards.

During those times, they try to let Cale eat his normal supply.

Because if not? Prepare to lie down unconscious with him for the next few days.

Cale has to admit that at first, he just wanted you because of your unique blood. He treated you well, yes, but you were nothing but a mere sweet treat.

However, spending time with you changed that quickly.

Not only did he discover your talents, but he also found out that the two of you get along so well.

Cale went from not even entertaining the thought of biting someone to constantly wanting to bite your nape or wrist to leave his mark on you.

Because what if someone else sees how delightful you are and tries to take you for themselves?

He simply has to show everyone that you're his.

Sometimes he would even bite just for the sake of leaving his mark.

This is probably something he'd take to his grave, but Cale absolutely loves the way you look whenever he feeds directly from you.

The way you writhe... your eyes squeezing shut... the way you pant as you feel your blood being drained from your veins... your eyes tearing up and those tears eventually rolling down your cheeks...

It's why he loves biting your wrist.

Sometimes, the two of you would just be lounging around, you'd be sitting on his lap as he does whatever, and then he'd suddenly bite you.

May or may not be because he loves the way you bury your face in his chest when you're in this position.

Of course, his favourite is still the classic nape bite.

It's because your scent is the strongest there.

He also likes how he can smell the process of his scent mixing with yours as he bites into you.

Also, this position allows him to hold your hand while he feeds.

He LOVES the way you squeeze his hands, especially when it starts to feel too much.

But of course, those things are only for him. Cale refuses to disclose to anyone else. That side of you and his enjoyment are for him and only him.

Cale would strike anyone who finds out with fire of destruction ^^

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sammytheotakunerd · 5 days ago

Text

help, my classmates think we're soulmates!

premise: in an attempt to protect yourself from your obsessive admirers, you try to weird them out by being as openly perverted as possible (spoiler: it doesn’t work). (yandere! honkai star rail x reader) (high school au) dark content, nsfw, all characters are 18+

it starts with a confession.

“i like you!”

crumpled between phainon’s hands is an envelope. a love letter, no doubt. you observe it for a moment before looking up at his face, which is more or less fixated on his shoes.

“i know this is out of nowhere, but i’ve liked you for a very long time! every time you smile, it’s like my heart skips a beat. whenever you’re in the room, my eyes drift towards you. you’re so cute and elegant, i can’t help but like you. i like you so much, please go out with me!”

phainon bows rapidly at a ninety-degree angle, his shaggy hair falling onto his face. he’s so quick it spooks you.

you almost want to laugh at his words. cute? elegant? what a joke.

it’s true, you weren’t expecting a confession when phainon asked to meet you outside of class. ah, but it’s really a shame.

between his messy hair, his habit of hunching over, and his quiet nature, he’s really not your type.

to be honest, no one at this school is. because in reality, your heart is solely reserved for fictional men.

that’s right. there’s nothing wrong with enjoying fictional men! they’re so hot, even their bedheads are attractive. plus, you can read smut and fantasize about them without feeling guilty. unlike real men, they’ll never disappoint you.

not that’d you’d ever let your friends know. you’d practically die of embarrassment. the entire school sees you as cute and innocent, who’d probably never seen a man’s dick (which isn’t true…if you count drawn ones).

and you’d like to keep it that way!

you take the envelope in your hands, staring at it thoughtfully while also trying not to wince at how wet it is from phainon’s sweat.

“sorry, i don’t like you. i hope we can be friends though!”

it really is a shame… the weather’s so good today. if only phainon confessed to someone else, this would’ve been the beautiful start to a shoujo anime.

yes… you can imagine it… the romantic walk at sunset… watching the fireworks together…

“is there someone else then?”

you snap out of your little daydream. “um, no?”

he scowls. “you’re lying, aren’t you. that’s why you won’t accept me, right?”

you wave your hands in defense. “no, no, not at all! i’m just not looking to date anyone.” not anyone in real life, that is. you got your husbandos at home waiting for you (they hate waiting).

“no… i don’t believe that. you’re too cute not to have admirers…” phainon mumbles under his breath before reaching some kind of ‘aha’ moment. “then, if i get rid of them, you’ll like me, right?”

um…what?

“i never said that!”

phainon shrugs. “i’ll just kill them.”

“um!” you’re scrambling for a solution here. phainon looks so livid it’s unsettling.

you try to back away, but he latches onto your wrist. his grip is tight enough to bruise, your pulse quickening under his touch.

you don’t know him very well, other than the fact that he’s some nobody in your class. but it’s always the quiet kids who are the scariest, and you don’t wanna take your chances.

oh! maybe if he finds out how you really are, he’ll back off. sure, you’d rather keep your otaku life secret, but phainon doesn’t have any friends. no one will believe him anyway. yes! this has to work!

“ahahaha, are you sure you really like me?”

“yes,” he says without missing a beat.

“i’m weird though.” that’s right. maybe if you weird him out, he’ll finally stop idolizing the idea of you and leave.

he’s visibly confused at this. it’s working. “weird how?”

“i have para-social fantasies about fictional men. my only hobby is watching anime and reading manhwa, and jacking off to it.”

you inwardly wince. maybe that’s being too honest.

phainon looks unfazed, though. “but this is the modern era. isn’t that normal nowadays?”

“but real life men gross me out.” you even go as far as gagging as graphically as possible. kinda like how a cat vomits up a furball. “fictional men just have unreal body proportions, and they’re faces are crafted by literal artistic gods. even their dicks are godly!”

you take a second to whip out your phone to your very-top-secret-no-one-must-know-unless-its-dire-circumstances-like-your-classmate-threatening-to-kill-someone-and-his-grip-is-starting-to-hurt-dire and start flipping through your saved album of half-naked and fully-naked anime men to further emphasize your point. “how could they possibly compare to men in real life?”

you shove it in his face so he has no other choice but to look at fictional dick. hopefully that creeps him out now!

he stares at your phone screen, quiet.

“oh, so if i look like them, you’ll like me?” phainon asks, finally letting go.

you blink, a little perplexed that he’s not reacting the way he’s supposed to. but he’s calmer now. so that’s good.

“yes!” you exclaim. it’s not like he’ll do it anyway. with how he’s built and dressed now, working towards looking like your fictional crushes should be near impossible.

he nods before making a prompt exit.

alone, you fist pump in victory. problem solved! now, your husbandos are waiting for you…

three weeks later, you’re sitting at your desk when the door slams open. you nearly jump in your seat when in walks in someone you’ve never seen before.

you might hate real life men, but this guy is so hot you’re this close to changing your mind. he’s drop dead gorgeous, from his lustrous hair to his dripping confidence.

and he’s…

he’s walking right towards you?!

you’re classmates start whispering, staring down at this seemingly new transfer student like fresh meat.

when he stops at your desk, your breath hitches. he smiles a little at that.

the mysterious newcomer pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gingerly raising your head to look him in the eye.

“so, do i look like your favorite fictional characters now?”

phainon?!

“first it was the student council president, now phainon?” himeko notes.

“why are you so surprised, she’s always been popular,” march 7th replies, munching on a strawberry pocky stick all the while. she turns to you. “i mean, lots of people have always been confessing to you, right?”

you laugh delicately. “i’m not sure about that.” oh, but you’re very sure. with top-tier grades, top-tier personality, and top-tier looks, it’s no lie to say you’re somewhat of an idol of the school.

you wink. “oh, but i am cute, aren’t i?” if only they knew you were secretly a degenerate who spends her free time reading smut and fantasizing over men who aren’t real.

march 7th laughs. “of course you are.”

the conversation cuts short at the mention of your name.

the three of you turn to the doorway to see jing yuan talking to one of your classmates. when he notices, jing yuan waves you over.

march 7th elbows you with a devious look. “speaking of the student council president…”

“oh hush,” you playfully chide, “i’m sure it’s nothing.”

himeko raises a brow at that. “knowing him? it never is.”

when you ask jing yuan where the two of you are going, he merely brushes it off, throwing whatever dumb excuse there is.

“we’re heading to the student council room.”

“for that?”

“you’ll see.”

as you walk down the hall, you find yourself entering an empty classroom, jing yuan closing the door behind you.

“but this isn’t the student council room—”

wham! jing yuan’s arm slams into the wall, effectively cornering you between the wall and him.

he kabedon’d you.

ka. be. don.

kabedon?

KABEDON?!

oh gods. it’s like in one of those shoujo mangas you read where the male lead traps the female lead in an ultra-romantic confrontational scene. you swear there’s cherry blossoms falling in the backdrop. and… and is kiss! kiss! fall in love playing?!

no… with this kind of atmosphere, it might be love, maybe instead…

“are you even listening?”

“oh, uh huh, yeah…”

your face is flushed, your heart practically beating out of your chest. you wish you could astral-project out of your body to take a photo of this. no one has ever done this to you before!

he sighs. “did you think about my proposition?”

“proposition? what proposition?”

“to be my girlfriend.”

those words take you back to reality. “oh! yes, that. i thought i already told you? i want to focus on my studies.”

he leans closer, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling your nose. now, jing yuan may be a 3d guy, but that doesn’t mean he’s good-looking, even by your standards. he’s like a sculpture handcrafted by the gods. it takes everything within you not to just kiss him.

no… your husbandos wouldn’t like that…

“but you’re giving an exception to phainon?”

“phainon?” you ask.

sure, he’s been tagging along lately like a lost puppy, even with the continuous ogling from your peers. ever since his glow up, people have been confessing to him nonstop, yet he still chose to hang out with you. he sits with you at lunch, and he partners up with you in gym class whenever opposite-pairings are required. but that doesn’t mean you two are a thing.

“phainon and i aren’t dating.”

“oh really? i bet phainon thinks differently.”

“it’s not my fault he thinks i like hot men’s dicks!” you blurt out.

the words are out of your mouth before you can even properly filter them.

you clamp your hands over your mouth in shock.

you and you’re big mouth, you think.

jing yuan looks so astounded you want to take a picture. it’d definitely be a good meme.

maybe… maybe you don’t need to worry! jing yuan is much too strategic to go about airing your business, especially if he likes you. he likes you for your poised persona, if you two ever dated and your secret got out that’d do numbers to his reputation. so your secret is probably safe with him—

“oh my gods! i’m so sorry!”

your blood runs cold.

you turn your head slowly like a robot to find march 7th at the door.

she shuffles around, shy. “the homeroom teacher’s looking for you.”

you might trust jing yuan not to say a peep, but even without any ill intention, march 7th tends to be a little loose-lipped.

“so… hot men, huh?” jing yuan murmurs, amused.

you look back at him, scowling. if your face felt hot before, it feels like it’s on fire now.

“not. another. word.”

even though march 7th has apologized several times over, you know the damage has already been done. even if you warn her not to, you know march 7th is going to spill the beans eventually to everyone and anyone who’ll listen.

well, it’s not as if you mentioned anything related to fictional men. it could be worse. everyone likes hot dick, right? you’re teenagers… it’s completely normal… yes, it’s not the end of the world…

the world ends right when argenti, president of the beauty club and honorary member of the theater club, slams open the door to your classroom.

what is with everyone and slamming doors?

he struts in like some kind of diva, an air of the usual confidence and pizazz surrounding him like a thickly-applied perfume.

he strides up to your desk.

“so, i heard you like hot men?” he flips his hair. “well, here i am.”

your soul leaves your body right there and then.

you sink down in your seat. “yep… that’s me… lover of hot men…”

internally, you’re waving your reputation as an innocent goddess goodbye with a white flag and tissue.

as if it couldn’t get worse (it always gets worse), argenti kneels down with a rose in hand, his other over his heart.

“won’t you do me the honor of being the love of my life?”

everyone is whispering now. you can practically feel the charisma and gracefulness you worked so hard for draining from your body

“i mean, i’m beautiful, you’re beautiful… it’s like the whole entire universe is simply calling us to be together. we’re practically soulmates, my love.”

you sink down into your seat, face flushed. argenti’s practically reading off of some shakespearean monologue now, his words blending together into a big mush of nothing. all you can feel is the stares of your peers burning into you from all directions.

“oh, and it’s dick you want, i’ll have you know that i am more than well-endowed—”

just then, you receive a notification on your phone. you don’t hesitate to stand up from your seat and book it.

“sorry, gotta take this call!”

“but wasn’t that a text notification—”

“excuse me!”

you make your way out into the hallway. though there’s some students here and there, it’s relatively quiet.

you take a breather outside of the classroom before opening your phone only to immediately turn it off and look around like you almost got caught watching porn.

you kinda did.

right smack dab on your lock screen is a text from phainon.

it’s a dick pic, with the caption want to add this to your collection?

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