#I tried to make them both kinda unsettling

[janetcage]

I’m titling this, Syzoth and Ashrah go to Walmart. Now accept the shenaniganary.

[ducksido]

I keep asking things but i love your writings so..

How would the boys react to a reader/yuu who got exposed to magic that much (much like radiation) so they can do magic, they just don't realize, or just don't care enough.

Like, thanks to the overblots they got exposed to raw magic so they have a minor, kinda unusefull, ability (or a UM); like how Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle can make objects do something by asking them to do it

(a Yuu who’s been marinating in overblot juice, i only did the first 3 dorms)

Riddle: Absolutely cannot cope. “This is irresponsible.” He thinks it’s blot poisoning. You’re behaving like a wild fae creature! You can’t just ask a teacup to stay warm and it obeys you! That’s rule-breaking! He desperately wants you to submit to magical testing. He’s convinced you’ll combust. When you assure him, “I only do it when it feels right,” he panics more.

Trey: He doesn’t really get it, but he believes you. When you ask the oven “please don’t burn the crust” and it doesn’t, he gives you this blank stare and says, “...Did it work because you said it… or because you meant it?” He starts speaking to his kitchen tools just to test it. “Yuu’s magic is like kitchen luck,” he mutters. He never burns pie after you compliment his apron.

Cater: “Okay, sooo… we’re not gonna talk about the fact that your bag literally zipped itself when you said thank you?” He’s obsessed. Posts cryptic Magicam pics like “Yuu’s magic is ✨aesthetic✨”. Tries to trick you into doing cool things on camera. When you refuse, he pouts. He also worries. Quietly asks if it hurts when you use your “gift.” It doesn’t. He’s relieved—but still watches you closely.

Ace: “THAT’S MAGIC! YOU’RE DOING MAGIC!” You insist you’re not. He’s shouting. He’s flustered because he’s working so hard in class and here you are getting vending machines to spit out free snacks. At some point he starts trying to mimic you. He whispers sweet nothings to his textbooks. He begs the dorm fridge to make his milk cold. It never works. He’s miserable. “Stupid ghost magic…”

Deuce: Completely convinced you’re some kind of ancient spirit in disguise. He becomes so respectful. Like, he calls you “Yuu-senpai” even when you’re the same age. He asks you to bless his pen before exams. You say, “Pen, do your best,” and hand it over. He’s nearly in tears. He’s also the most worried you’re going to get hurt. Keeps telling Crowley to investigate it properly. Nobody listens.

Leona: At first, he scoffs. “Tch. That’s not real magic. That’s just you sweet-talking junk.” But the third time he sees a broken piece of chalk start writing because you said, “Can you help me with this, please?”, he stops mocking you. Quietly, he starts observing. Deep down, it unsettles him—a powerless human who got infected with blot and now reality bends when you whisper to it. There’s something ancient about it. He’ll never admit it, but he once tried whispering to his pen. Nothing happened. He was furious. “...I ain’t jealous. Just sayin’ it’s weird, that’s all.”

Ruggie: “HUH?? Wait, wait, wait—you told a mop to clean and it did??” He’s both amazed and mildly horrified. You’ve got this uncanny ability and don’t care?! He thinks you’re lowkey a cryptid. He’d love to exploit it (in the name of efficiency), but the magic is temperamental. You told the vending machine, “I wish I had a soda,” and it spit one out. But when he tried it? It jammed. “Yuu... are you cursed or blessed? I can’t tell.”

Jack: Jack is stunned. A bit spooked. “You can’t just… ask the broom to sweep and it does it.” You say, “Well, it’s nice to the broom. It deserves help.” He’s silently terrified you’re going to overheat and overblot from it. He tries to subtly monitor your blot levels. It doesn’t rise. You’re just... like that. You make him nervous in the way people fear forest spirits—kind of awed, kind of reverent, kind of unnerved.

Azul: “...You’re not casting spells?” He doesn’t understand how you’re doing this. Is it residual blot? Contract-based? Unlicensed magic? He’s both interested in profiting off this and deeply nervous about it. He tries to ask you to teach him. You say “I don’t know how, I just ask nicely.” It both infuriates and fascinates him. Eventually he adds a clause in your Lounge employee contract: “If an object obeys your voice, you must log the incident.” You doodle smiley faces in the logbook and leave out important details. He’s having a stress-induced existential crisis.

Jade: He treats you like a spirit of the forest. He’s delighted. “You must have absorbed wild magic, Yuu. A kind of natural resonance. Fascinating.” He doesn’t try to study you directly—he studies your environment, your emotions, your words. He quietly logs the way you speak to objects. When you say “please,” he smiles to himself. He catches a knife once before it falls and asks, “Did you tell this not to hit the ground?” You blink. “Yeah.” “Charming.”

Floyd: Thinks it’s hilarious. “You said ‘go away’ to a squeaky door and it shut by itself! You're like a talking remote control.” He loves testing your limits. He’ll shout, “Yuu! Tell the vending machine to give me ten candy bars!!” When nothing happens, he whines, “You’re broken today.” But if you whisper to his hood to stay up during the rain, and it does, he just grins. “Creepy little shrimp~ I like it.”

[sweetlikemonie]

𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓

football player!onyankopan x black!stripper reader

word count: 4.5k words

content warnings: 18+ minors pls go awayyyy, porn w/some plot, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap ur willy!), rough sex, lots of dirty talking, spitting, spanking, use of pet names, daddy used maybe once or twice, kinda? semi-public sex, oral receiving ( fem + male), light dubcon (just tagging cause reader is slightly under the influence), you’re not a twinkie this time but a toaster strudel, light degradation

author’s note: thought of this and IMMEDIATELY got to it 🤭like this lowkey got me out of my writing slump (maybe..fingers crossed!!). hope you guys enjoy tho i tried to make it as nasty as possible for my man. reblogs, likes, & comments are greatly appreciated as always!

The luminescent lights flashed all around you as you strutted through Aquarius, the nightclub where you had spent countless nights dancing. You were just weeks shy of your three-year anniversary—what had started as a ‘get-rich-quick’ scheme had become something you couldn’t see yourself leaving anytime soon.

Although you knew this wasn’t where you wanted to retire, your day job as a second-year student majoring in psychology, with dreams of becoming a Forensic Psychologist, kept you grounded. But what could you say? You loved the money. It paid your bills and tuition while affording you a lifestyle you had only read in magazines and seen on TV screens.

The fast money and fast life were intoxicating—an adrenaline rush that your everyday existence couldn’t give you. Regardless of your green-eyed coworkers, who had tried to sabotage your bag few times too many, or the unsettling customers whose once-adoring admiration had turned into obsession, you stayed.

You were known to many as Siren, and you lived up to the name’s full potential. Your seductive moves and effortless sensuality captivated the attention of many, making you a favorite among the club’s clientele. You had more than a few regulars, their loyalty ensured you remained one of the club’s top dancers.

You made it to the dressing room, taking a seat at your vanity to start your makeup. You decided to keep your outfit simple— a sheer burgundy one-piece paired with complimentary accessories along with your matching sparkly Pleasers. Pulling the clips from your hair, you let your ash-blonde layered curls cascade down your back. You knew you looked good enough to eat. Just as you were getting ready to leave, your fellow dancer and friend, Sin, walked in.

“You giving ’em hell tonight, ain’t you?” her soft voice teased as you greeted her with a warm smile.

Sin had started at the club around the same time as you, and over the years, the two of you had grown close. You learned early on that friendliness was rare in the exotic dancing world, but being new to the game together gave you both common ground. Your connection extended beyond the club, her being someone you genuinely confided in.

“I mean, you know,” you replied, giving her a playful spin and pose. “I heard it’s supposed to be some big spenders in here tonight. I just hope them niggas ready to throw them racks at a bitch!” she said, settling into her seat to get ready.

You had heard the same—word was that a few of the Kansas City Chiefs were coming in to celebrate after their win the night before.

You let out a giggle. “I call dibs on the biggest. See you out there boo.” you said jokingly, sticking out your tongue before walking out, making a beeline for the bar.

No matter how many times you had danced before, a little liquid courage always helped loosen you up for the night ahead. You struck up conversation with the bartender as she prepared your usual—a mixed drink and two shots of your favorite tequila.

The night continued on—several stage sets and lap dances later—the DJ’s voice boomed over the speakers, announcing the arrival of the stars of the night.

You had just finished your third set of the night when you saw about seven of the players walk in. They were flashy—rocking big chains and rings, their diamonds catching the light and dancing with every movement. Anything that showcased their wealth, they had it on. As you walked down the steps, one man caught your attention, nearly making you stop in your tracks—Onyankopon Jackson, the star quarterback of the team.

The deep, midnight hue of his skin made his jewelry gleam even brighter under the lights. Tattoos adorned both of his arms and you were sure they traced along other parts of his body as well. His presence was commanding, his stature intimidating at least 6’4”—a towering figure that exuded power.

You regained your composure as you made your way past their section, feeling the weight of eyes stalking your every move. You knew you would end up there sooner or later, but you just needed a minute to yourself.

Slipping into the dressing room, you reached for your makeup bag, reapplying your lip combo—a pointless distraction. You smoothed down the flyaways in your hair, taking one last look in the mirror. The faint scent of your vanilla perfume clung to the air, warm and intoxicating.

The pulse of the music hit you the second you stepped back out. The bass vibrated through the floor, syncing with your heartbeat. Lights flashed across the dimly lit club, illuminating eager faces. But you weren’t paying attention to any of them—your mind was locked on only one thing. Him.

And there he was. Leaning back with a wide stance in the VIP section, a drink in hand, casually conversing with his teammates. Your eyes met Onyankopon’s, the space between you thick with tension, the air suddenly heavy. A slight smirk curved your lips as you stepped onto the stage, the deep bass of “Hit Different” by Trey Songz blasting through the club’s speakers.

You circled the pole first, slow and teasing, fingertips grazing the cool metal as you let the anticipation build. A tilt of your chin, a flick of your hair—every movement was a silent invitation, daring everyone to keep their eyes on you.

Your hips moved with purpose, each roll slow and sensual—meant for Onyankopon and him alone. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, you gripped the pole and lifted yourself effortlessly, your body stretching like liquid fire. One leg hooked high above your head as you spun into a controlled descent, teasing the air with every motion.

Sliding down, you melted into a slow, deliberate split, fingertips grazing the floor as you arched your back. The fat of your ass jiggled behind you, a sinful display of softness and control. Your eyes locked onto Onyankopon once again, heat simmering in your gaze.

A smirk ghosted your lips before you rose to your feet, rolling your hips to the beat, every motion a siren’s call no one could resist.

As the song came to an end, you gathered the countless bills scattered around you, stuffing them into the bag you had kept beside you all night. Just as you finished, a light tap on your shoulder pulled you from your focus. It was Sin, letting you know she was heading over to the Chief’s section, ready to milk them for everything they had tonight.

Once you secured the last of your money, you made your way over, your hips switching with each deliberate step.

The music’s vibe shifted, turning more upbeat just as you began shaking your ass, the rhythm guiding your movements.

You slowly made your way in front of Onyankopon, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine as you moved your body.

Bending over, you began shaking in front of his face, teasing him with every motion. Before you could react, a firm grip pulled you forward, pressing you against his chest.

“You dangerous, mama. You know that?” he murmured, the diamonds in his grill catching the light, flashing like a silent warning. A smile teased at your lips as you continued moving against him, slow and sensual. “So I’ve heard.”

His hands lingered on your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make you feel his grip before they loosened again. You kept moving against him, slow and sensual, dragging out every second.

Onyankopon leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “You always put on a show like this, or you just tryna tease me?”

You smirked, rolling your hips deliberately slow. “Depends. You like being teased?”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I like getting what I want.” His hands slid lower, skimming over your thighs before he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. “And right now, I want a private dance. Just me and you.”

The heat between you thickened, the energy shifting from playful to something heavier, more demanding. You bit your lip, playing with the chain around his neck as if considering it. But you both knew your answer.

“Lead the way, Chief.”

With that, he stood, flashing a knowing grin before placing a stack of bills in your hand. As you turned, you made sure to sway your hips just a little more than necessary, letting him watch what was about to be all his. You heard the hooting and cheering of his teammates as you two walked away to the bottom floor of the club.

The private room was dimly lit, intimate—perfect. You placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back into the plush chair, climbing onto his lap as the music shifted to something slower, something meant for you two.

“Hope you can handle me up close,” you taunted, voice silky, rolling your hips to the low hum of the music.

Onyankopon let out a low chuckle, settling into the chair, legs spread wide as he leaned back, eyes locked on you like he was already claiming you. “That the best you got, mama?”

Your smirk deepened as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him without breaking eye contact. His hands instinctively found your waist, but you caught his wrists, pressing them against the armrest.

“No touching yet,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips before pulling back. You rocked your hips slow, deliberate, dragging out the friction between you. His jaw flexed, his grip tightening against the chair as he let you take control…for now.

“Teasin’ like you ain’t gon’ let me have you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker beneath it.

“Maybe I like seeing you squirm.” you shot back, running a hand down his chest, letting your nails graze his abs before slipping lower—just to stop short of where you knew he wanted you most.

His eyes darkened, that easy smirk shifting into something more dangerous. In one swift motion, his hands broke free, gripping your waist before flipping you onto your back against the couch. A surprised gasp left your lips, but it melted into a laugh as he loomed over you, his weight pressing you into the cushions.

“Still wanna tease me, baby?” His voice was a low growl now, hands roaming, lips hovering just above your throat.

Your breath hitched, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “Guess you’ll just have to shut me up,”His smirk deepened at your words, something menacing flickering behind his eyes. “Oh, I plan to.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on you—hot, demanding, claiming. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them with just enough force to make you shiver. He rocked against you, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of his arousal pressing between your legs.

“You talk all that shit,” he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck, “but I bet you ain’t even ready for me.”

You exhaled sharply as his teeth grazed your collarbone, heat pooling low in your stomach. Your fingers tangled in the chain around his neck, pulling him closer. “Why don’t you find out?”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, but he wasn’t about to let you have the last word. His hands moved, slipping beneath your barely-there outfit, fingertips tracing over your heated skin. Every touch was deliberate, teasing, until your hips instinctively arched against him. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, his voice thick with amusement and desire.

And then, he stopped playing.

He pushed your legs wider, his grip firm, possessive. The anticipation was unbearable, the heat between you smoldering as he finally touched you where you needed it the most. His fingers slid up and down your slit, collecting the wetness that had been waiting for him all night. “You wet as fuck. Sloppy ass pussy.” His words had an almost taunting tone behind them. Bringing his fingers to his mouth as he sucked them clean of your juices. “Just how I imagined.”

You shuddered as he lifted your dress up to your neck, kissing and licking at every inch of your body before he dove between your thighs. His tongue found your clit, and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. He began to eat you like a man starved, his tongue locked against your clit, the obscene slurping sounds making you squirm as. Your hands searched frantically for something to hold onto, finally settling on your pierced nipples.

You grinded against his face as his tongue flicked against you with hunger—desperate to make you come, to see your face turn up in pleasure, to hear those sweet moans get more frantic as you neared your release.

Not too long after, two fingers slipped inside of you, angling perfectly against that soft, squishy spot that instantly made that bubbling heat your stomach began to rise. “B-baby,” you whimpered, lifting your hips slightly, desperate for a moment’s relief.

But his tattooed arms tightened around your thighs, locking you in place, making it nearly impossible to move. Without warning, your orgasm crashed over you like a ton of bricks. Wetness spilled out of you, glistening on Ony’s face and hands as he continued his assault, his tongue working you into overstimulation.

“Thought you could handle me, what happened?” A fake pout rested against his lips, voice dripping with teasing. He was anything but sorry. He stood as he rid himself of his shirt and pants, leaving only his underwear. As you suspected, tattoos traced nearly every inch of his chest.

You rolled your eyes as he pulled his underwear down, his long, thick shift bouncing against his stomach. It was darker than the rest of his body, tip leaking with arousal.

He positioned himself against you, dick hot and heavy against your thighs. “Feel that?” he whispered, rolling his hips just enough to make you gasp. He tapped it against your clit—once, twice, three times—before sliding himself inside you.

A loud sigh left both of you as he stretched you open, letting himself sink deeper, getting acquainted with your walls. He set a brutal pace, his hips slamming against your thighs—his hands pressing you down, keeping you from running.

“You feel so good, Daddy. Do I feel good too?” you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

Your hands gripped his chain, yanking him closer until his lips crashed against yours. Your tongues tangled, both of you desperate to take control, to push the other over the edge. His chain clinked between your fingers as you tugged him closer, swallowing his groan into your mouth. His hips never slowed, each thrust hitting deep enough to leave you gasping against his lips.

“You was so big and bad, but look at you now,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to watch your face twist in pleasure. “Can’t even keep your mouth open, can you?”

He delivered a particularly sharp thrust, making your breath stutter. You tried to bite back a moan, but he wasn’t having it.

“Nah, don’t hold back. I wanna hear how nasty you get for me.”

One of his hands snaked up your throat, not squeezing—just resting there, a silent promise of control. His other hand drifted down, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing slow, lazy circles.

“Shit,” you whimpered, legs twitching beneath him.“Mmm,” he hummed mockingly, dragging his tongue along the shell of your ear. “That’s cute. But I’m not stopping ‘til you’re crying for it.”

He suddenly pulled out, leaving you empty, your walls fluttering around nothing. He flipped you over on your stomach as you whined at the loss, reaching for him, but he only smirked.

“So impatient.” He tapped his tip against your clit again, watching you jolt. “Look at this pretty ass pussy,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through your slick folds, spreading you open. “So fucking messy for me. You want it back that bad?”

You pushed back against him, whining, but he only smacked your ass hard, making you jolt.

“Use your words, baby.” His voice was thick with amusement. “Tell me how bad you need Daddy to stretch this pussy out again.”

“Please,” you gasped, fingers curling into the sheets. “Please, baby, I need it—need you to fuck me.” That was all he needed. He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, forcing a scream from your lips as he filled you to the hilt.

Your moans turned into desperate cries, your body trembling beneath him. “Fuck, you’re so loud,” he taunted. “You like being fucked like a whore, huh?”

You could barely form words, too lost in the sensation of him pounding into you, but you nodded frantically.

His grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you from behind, each thrust making the dimly lit walls of the private dance room tremble. The bass-heavy music from the main floor thumped faintly through the walls, a sensual backdrop to the wet, obscene sounds filling the space.

“Fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, dragging a hand up your spine before fisting a handful of your hair. “Had me watching you all night, throwin’ that ass for every other nigga in the room—but we both knew who you really wanted, didn’t we?”

You moaned as he yanked you back against him, his chest flush against your back now, his breath hot on your ear.

“Say it,” he murmured, voice thick with need “Wanted you, Daddy,” you breathed, reaching back to grasp his wrist where it rested on your hip. “Only you.”

He smirked against your neck, his free hand sliding up to cup your throat—not squeezing, just holding you there, making you feel the weight of him. “That’s right,” he muttered, rolling his hips deeper, making you whimper. “And now look at you. You’re not up there dancin’ for them anymore. You’re right where you belong—bouncing on my dick in this private room, letting me fuck you stupid.”

His other hand slid down between your legs, fingers finding your slick clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles.“How’s it feel, baby?” he asked, voice dripping with cocky amusement. “Getting fucked by the same man who had half the club watching him tonight?”

Your legs trembled, your fingers clawing at the plush couch beneath you as pleasure built inside you. “Feels—fuck…feels so good,” you moaned, arching into him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling back again, his hands firmly gripping your waist. “Yeah? You gonna be thinkin’ about this next time you’re on stage? Movin’ those hips, knowing I already had you bent over in here, dripping all over my dick?”

You clenched around him at the thought, and he hissed through his teeth, smacking your ass before grabbing it roughly. “Shit, mama, you just got even tighter,” he groaned. “You like that? The thought of me watching you, knowing you’re already mine?”

Your answer was a desperate whimper, your body pushing back against him, chasing every thrust “That’s what I thought,” he rasped. Then he slowed, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in so deep you cried out. He repeated it again, each stroke slow, deep, precise—driving you insane.

“Open your mouth for me, baby.”

Your lips parted instantly, your tongue peeking out in anticipation. He leaned over you, gripping your chin, before spitting directly onto your tongue, watching with dark, hungry eyes as you swallowed without hesitation.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groaned, grabbing your jaw and pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

He pulled out of you suddenly, his hands gripping your waist tight as he flipped you over onto your back. His chest heaved, sweat glistening along his inked skin as he sat back on the plush couch, his thick cock standing tall, slick with your arousal.

“C’mere, baby,” he rasped, his voice rough from how much he’d been groaning. “Come ride me—put on a show just for me.”

You didn’t hesitate. Crawling over to him, you swung a leg over his lap, your hands sliding up his broad chest as you positioned yourself over his shaft. His hands immediately grabbed at your ass, spreading you open as he dragged his tip through your wetness.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, his gaze locked onto where your bodies were about to connect. “So messy. You ready to sit on this dick, or you gonna keep teasing me?”

You smirked, rolling your hips just enough to let his tip slide inside before pulling back up. “You tell me,” you taunted, your voice breathy. “How bad do you want it?”

His grip on your ass tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Baby, if you don’t drop that pretty pussy on me right now—”

You cut him off with a moan as you sank down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion, taking him all the way in. His head snapped back against the couch, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips as your walls squeezed around him.

“Hell yeah,” he growled, his hands sliding up your waist, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts. “Knew this pussy was gonna feel unreal bouncing on me.”

You planted your hands on his chest for balance and started moving, rolling your hips in slow, filthy circles before lifting yourself up and slamming back down. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the heavy bass still thumping through the walls of the club.

His chain clinked as you leaned in to kiss him, your tongue sweeping into his mouth, tasting him—tasting yourself still lingering there from when he’d licked you clean earlier. He groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding up your back before gripping the nape of your neck.

“Fuckin’ kiss me while you ride it,” he murmured, biting your bottom lip before pulling you into another deep, messy kiss.

You moaned against his lips, grinding down harder, the friction against your clit sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. His hands dropped back to your ass, spreading you open wider as he guided your movements.

“That’s it, baby,” he panted, eyes dark with hunger as he watched you. “Use me. Fuckin’ take it. Show me how nasty you can get.”

You braced yourself on his shoulders and started bouncing harder, faster, each drop making him grunt, his fingers leaving deep imprints in your skin. His dick was hitting that spongey spot inside you perfectly, making your legs tremble.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, watching the way your tits bounced in front of him. He leaned forward suddenly, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue.

You cried out, fingers sweeping over his low cut, pushing his head closer.

“Yeah? That feel good?” he murmured against your skin before pulling back. He looked up at you, his lips slick, his expression hungry. “Wanna feel even better?”

Without waiting for an answer, he spit onto his fingers, then reached between your bodies, rubbing his slick fingers over your swollen clit. You gasped, body jolting as pleasure shot straight through you.

“Ohh, fuck, Daddy—”

“That’s right, baby,” he groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours, amplifying the sensation. “You about to come all over me, aren’t you?”

Your body tensed, the combination of his deep strokes and the pressure on your clit sending you spiraling. You gripped his shoulders tight, your breath catching as heat coiled in your stomach.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, his voice dark and commanding. “Soak this dick. Show me how nasty you get when you lose it.”

And with a final grind of your hips, you shattered, your walls gripping him like a vice as pleasure ripped through you. Your moans turned into breathless cries, your whole body trembling.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” he groaned, his head falling back as he felt you squeeze around him. Your body was still trembling, thighs shaking as you came down from your high, his dick still buried deep inside you, twitching with need. His grip on your waist was bruising, his jaw clenched tight as he fought for control.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned, head falling back against the couch. “Damn near made me nut just from how you squeezed me.”

With a teasing roll of your hips, you lifted yourself off him, gasping at the emptiness he left behind. Before he could pull you back, you slid off his lap and sank to your knees between his legs, your hands splaying over his thick thighs. His dick stood tall, slick with both of your arousals, throbbing and desperate.

“You ain’t done yet, are you, Daddy?” you teased, flicking your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum. “Thought a big, bad football player like you had more stamina than that.”

His jaw clenched, his hand tightening in your hair as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “You talk too much,” he muttered, his thumb swiping over your swollen bottom lip. “That mouth is way better when it’s full.”

You smirked, opening wide, sticking your tongue out, waiting.

“Mmm, that’s my nasty girl,” he murmured, tapping his tip against your tongue before shoving it back into your mouth, pushing deep until you gagged around him. “Fuckin’ love seeing you like this—on your knees, drooling all over me, like you were made to take this dick.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, spit dripping down your chin, but you took it like a pro, moaning around him, letting your throat tighten just to make him twitch in your mouth. His hips jerked, his grip tightening as he held you there, groaning.

“Yeah, just like that,” he rasped. “Bet you wanna wear my nut all over that pretty face, don’t you?” You nodded, your eyes heavy with lust, your tongue swirling around him as you sucked harder. He hissed through his teeth, his head falling back.

“Shit—fuck, I’m close,” he groaned. He pulled out, stroking himself fast, aiming right at you. “Stick that tongue out, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

You tilted your head back, tongue out, eyes locked on him as he let out a deep, guttural moan, his dick jerking in his hand as thick, hot ropes of cum splattered onto your tongue, your lips, dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, watching the way you let it coat your skin, his grip in your hair finally loosening. Slowly, you dragged your fingers along your chin, scooping up his release before licking it off, swallowing it down with a satisfied hum.

“Mmm, so messy,” you whispered, giving him one last kitten lick before pressing soft kisses along his abs.

He exhaled a rough chuckle, shaking his head as he pulled you up onto his lap, his big hands gripping your waist. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours. You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “That a bad thing?”

“Nah,” he murmured, tilting your chin up as he finally kissed you—deep, slow, like he wanted to savor the taste of himself still lingering on your tongue.

You melted into it, letting him take his time, his hands smoothing up and down your back, grounding you after all the intensity. When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare thigh. “Ain’t no way I’m letting you walk out of here without makin’ sure you’re mine.”

You grinned, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “Guess that means you’ll be back for another dance, huh?”

He smirked. “Oh, baby—I ain’t ever leaving.”

[imadhatt3r]

It kinda irks me when people call Black Mask "Truekechi", because that's not really the case...? Not entirely, at least.

I mean yes, of course, Black Mask IS a part of Akechi's personality, I'm not denying that. The thing is, that it isn't Akechi's WHOLE personality. This kid just went through the biggest crashout of his life, his whole plan he's been meticulously working on for years failed, and the worst part is that it didn't even lead to what he was after, so he didn't even get the revenge he wanted. Of course he's unstable and edgy, I mean, who wouldn't be?

That is not to say that his anger and edginess aren't a part of his "true self"; I'm sure that his glee at taking out shadows is absolutely real, for example, but I believe that it comes from him just being angry in general- at Shido, at Maruki, and at himself. Akechi is rough around the edges, has a short temper and has a tendency to look at others from above, but the situation he's in boosts these parts of his personality as a sort of defense mechanism.

I think that his mementos conversations give a really good insight into this too; Perhaps it's due to my older age compared to the characters in-game, but a lot of Akechi's lines feel so... Forced on his side? He's the one to bring up that other Thieves probably don't want to have him on the team, or that they're unsettled by how he fights, but nobody even said anything about it in the first place...? Even other characters seem kinda done with his act, either that or they accept him being on the team due to their shared goals; Some are even quite nice and friendly, all things considered. This just feels like Akechi's self-loathing twisting itself into this kind of quips because he himself doesn't want to get too comfortable on the team; He's scared of growing closer to the other Thieves, so he tries to keep them at arm's length. He can't just tell them "I think I'm a horrible person" straight up (his pride wouldn't let him), so he has to make himself "unappealing" in other ways.

There's also the other side of these conversations, where you can see him just... Being a kid. He whines about being hungry, or thirsty, or his legs getting stiff in the car, he talks about mundane things with other Thieves like graduation or sports... He's just a teenager as much as his teammates are- it's just that the others weren't hired as assassins at 15 and didn't grow up obsessed with the plan to kill their father. His emotional development and maturation process have clearly been impacted, on top of everything else he had to deal with. So he may act "adult" and more mature than others at first glance (at least before he reveals Loki), but inside he is just as much (if not more, in some aspects) of a kid as the other Thieves are. This means that he is still at the age and mental development level where he is still figuring out himself, who he is, what path to follow etc. It also means that he is prone to being overly dramatic, emotionally extreme, and have poor emotional control- you know, teen stuff.

The key to it all becomes his ultimate persona, Hereward. We all know that Akechi has two personas, but he doesn't get two ultimate personas, he gets only one. I think that it's symbolic of his psyche slowly melding itself into one again. It's not that either one of his "sides" was truly fake or real; Both the Detective Prince and Black Mask ARE parts of the "real" Akechi- it's just that he has been systematically compartmentalizing his whole self into two for YEARS. The awakening of his ultimate persona is him starting the process of healing and allowing these two sides of him to mix and reconnect back into one.

I honestly think that, with enough time and the right environment, Akechi's most extreme traits would even themselves out, and he would stop being AS short-tempered, snarky, and blood-thirsty as he is in the game. He will never be the perfectly plesant Detective Prince, but he also won't be the angry, self-loathing and vengeful Black Mask. He will be something new, something different, a fusion of the two opposite ends of his personality spectrum. Only then he will live as his fully true self.

[nosyp]

Heyyy I love your writingsss

Can we please get a smut from player 120? I know she's gentle but like she got jealous or something that she's not so gentle that day:D thank you if you want ofc

Hi!! Thank you! I'm so glad you love my writings🥰 I hope you don't mind that it's fem reader, I could change it too if you want! Js dm or ask again :)

Title = The Game is Changing

Warnings = smut🔞 (badly written), possessive behaviour, kinda dark?, jealousy, rough(er) sex

Pairing = Hyun Ju (Player 120) x fem! reader

Summary = Player 120, usually calm and in control, starts acting strangely jealous when you get closer to Gi-hun. Her behavior shifts from subtle glances to intense, unsettling stares, making the reader feel uneasy and unsure of what's going on with her.

Word count = 1.6k

You’d always thought that Player 120 was the kind of person who would never lose control. The kind of person who was always calm, always calculated, always in charge. Yet tonight, everything felt different. There was a shift in her, subtle at first, but enough for you to feel it. You could tell something was off, something had changed, but you couldn’t place a finger on it.

The night had started like any other, the two of you huddled in the same space, avoiding the chaos going on outside. But as time passed, the mood shifted. You noticed how she kept her eyes locked on you, her gaze far more intense than usual. She wasn’t the type to show jealousy, at least, not outwardly. Yet the way she watched you now… it kinda scared you a bit.

It started when you’d brushed past another player. A simple, harmless touch, yet the way her body stiffened was unmistakable. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes narrowing just enough for you to notice.

Then it got worse when you started to get closer to Gi-hun. You mostly spoke to him about the games and asked for advice on surviving them. Gi-hun was friendly, always calm, and seemed like someone who had experience navigating this world. You found comfort in his words, but each time you spoke to him, you noticed Player 120’s gaze growing heavier on you.

You tried to shake it off at first, telling yourself you were overthinking things. But the way her body language shifted each time you and Gi-hun shared a laugh or exchanged words didn’t go unnoticed. There was a tension in the air, something that made you uneasy, and it was getting harder to ignore.

The subtle glances turned into full-on stares, and her usually calm demeanor began to crack. When you caught her watching you, she quickly averted her gaze, but you could tell it wasn’t because she was embarrassed. No, it was more like she was hiding something, maybe something darker. You weren’t sure what was going through her mind, but the idea that you might have pushed a button you didn’t even know existed started to gnaw at you.

For the first time, Player 120 didn’t seem like the unshakable person you had come to rely on. She was different tonight. And no matter how hard you tried to focus on Gi-hun, you couldn’t escape the unsettling feeling that Player 120 was watching you, waiting for something.

You barely had time to react before she spoke, her voice low, almost hushed, but with an edge to it.

“Stay close,” she said.

You raised an eyebrow, confused but following her command without hesitation. The tension between you both was thick, something unspoken hanging in the air. What was going on with her? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you knew one thing for sure. Player 120 wasn’t her usual self tonight.

You sat together on the edge of the room, both silent, your breathing slightly quicker than normal. She seemed more aware of your presence than ever before, her gaze flickering over you every few seconds as though she was waiting for something. You tried to ignore the tension, but it was hard.

Then, without warning, she was standing in front of you, her hand gripping your wrist with a force that startled you. The calm, collected player you knew was now someone else entirely. Her eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of heat and something darker in them.

“You’re mine tonight,” she murmured, her voice laced with something possessive, something that sent a chill down your spine. The change was so abrupt, so intense, that it left you breathless.

Before you could speak, suddenly her lips were on yours. The kiss was hard, urgent. It’s like she was trying to devour you. There was no softness, no gentleness that you used to get from her. It was all hunger and desire, and the way she held you close, pressing you into her body, made your head spin. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of you, as if your closeness, your touch, was the only thing that mattered. Her hands roamed over your body, exploring with an intensity that made your heart race.

You didn’t resist. How could you? She had always been there, the one constant in the chaos around you. But now, in this moment, it was like you were hers, and she wasn’t about to let anyone else take you from her.

Her hands slipped underneath your shirt and with one swift motion, she lifted the shirt off of you, revealing you. Her hands explored your body as she peppered you with kisses that trailed from your neck down. She explored you longer, hands slowly moving their way to your bra. And suddenly, without warning, she unclasped it and revealed your plush breasts.

“Mmmh! Slow– down Hyun Ju…” you moan.

She didn’t say anything, and just looked back at you with a deathly glare. Was she mad at you?

Her kisses grew rougher, more unrelenting, looks like you’re in for a long night. Her breath was now breaking up into small pants, chest rising and falling with her every breath. She was now greedy, hungry… and it was… for you. 

Your head started to spin as she continued, her movements deliberate and slow, sending a wave of heat through your body. The room felt like it was closing in on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Every time she touched you, the world seemed to tilt, and each breath you took felt heavier than the last.

Her fingers brushed against your skin with a practiced ease, the sensation sparking electric pulses all over your body. The air around you grew thick with tension, each moment intensifying. You could feel the dopamine coursing through your veins, increasing everything, the way her fingertips teased your pulse, the way your chest rose with every shallow breath.

"You’re so responsive," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper that seemed to vibrate through your entire being. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine, and the warmth in your stomach twisted into something deeper, something darker.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for her, the need to pull her closer overwhelming. But she was always just out of reach, teasing you with that knowing smile that made your heart race. Each time she looked at you, you could see the spark of something darker, something that hinted at the control she held over you. It was intoxicating.

Her touch was light, almost experimental, as if she was savoring each reaction. The pleasure she gave wasn’t just physical, it was a full-body experience, one that made your head spin and your mind cloud over. Each movement sent more and more pleasure into you, making you crave more. Your body reacted on instinct, chasing after the sensations, the pleasure, like it was the only thing that mattered.

As she continued, you could feel the growing tension between you, the silent promises in her eyes that made your body ache for release. Your heartbeat in your throat, and every nerve seemed to come alive with the desire for more. It wasn’t just about the physical—though that was intense enough on its own… but the way she had you hanging on every word, every touch, as though your very existence depended on her.

“You look so beautiful…” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. The words, soft but loaded with meaning, sent another shudder through you, and before you knew it, you were responding without thinking, your body arching closer to hers, desperate for the next touch. “You’re mine only. Mine.”

Your head continued to spin, your thoughts scattered as the intensity built. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on, but at that moment, you didn’t want to. You wanted to give in completely, to drown in the sensations she was pulling from you with ease. The dopamine, the pleasure… it was all consuming, and you were ready to surrender yourself to it.

Her right hand slowly travelled down… and down… and now she was in your pants. She started by rubbing your folds, giving you time to ease into the feeling, before quickening her pace rapidly. You needed the friction from her, the heat gradually increasing between your legs. The sensation was becoming unbearable, now you wanted her to go faster, rougher.

Then, she slipped a finger in, evoking a small moan out of you. Every move she made produced a squelching sound from your wetness, her fingers were going so fast you couldn’t even comprehend it. The sounds echoed through the room. 

Each touch made your heart race faster, anticipation building up as dopamine surged through your veins. “Ha-ah! M-more!”

“Mmm… more huh?” she says, and she slips another 2 fingers in. Your tight walls clenched around her, maximizing her movement, but also pulling her in even more. 

“I-I’m so close– ah!… please…” you beg her.

It didn’t take long for you to come undone all over her fingers, releasing all your fluids onto her fingers. And you relaxed, letting your body lean against her. Well that was until, she says… “Wait– we’re not done yet.”

[thevtuberlestat]

i've seen a lot of conversation about the ways that armand tries to recreate the marius-amadeo dynamic with daniel. and like he absolutely does do that, but i also think it's a useful exercise to identify the places where his treatment of daniel is very different from the way that marius treated him and the role this plays in their character arcs.

[trigger warning for everything discussion of armand's backstory involves involves, including sexual violence, physical abuse, and CSA]

marius-amadeo starts with a rescue, starts with amadeo being totally overwhelmed by pleasure and beauty. there are hints of darkness/evil underneath it--notably amadeo notices marius' sharp teeth, amadeo feels unsettled by marius' art and possible blasphemy, amadeo knows there is something inhuman about the act of drinking his blood. but for the most part he has no information about what is happening to him AND no control in it AND the experience is pleasant. the shopping trip, the gifts, the art, being taken care of, even the sexual elements* of the dynamic are immediately gratifying despite him having no context or control.

on the other hand, i think it's important that daniel goes in with ALL the context, the knowledge that he is seeking a monster (though, to be fair, not the one that he finds), and specific understanding that armand is, like, maaybe a touch problematic due to all the murder and stuff. and i think it's equally important that the relationship immediately fucking sucks for daniel -- armand locks him in a cellar for days and then torments and pursues him across several continents. they are decently far into their relationship before armand starts to play nice with daniel -- the gifts and trips and money are absent at first, then present as kinda incidental to keep the game of cat and mouse going, then become a genuine element of their dynamic. that's also when the elements of armand "taking care" of daniel are introduced--armand pulling daniel into the shower (hey, bath scene, where have we seen this), armand cooking for daniel, armand holding daniel when he's sick/withdrawing/etc.

so the arc there is inverted. marius at first appears as a well of generosity and care and then slowly reveals a monstrous side, which armand appears as a monster and slowly eases into generosity and care.

control is also pretty different between the two dynamics. both armand and marius are deeply controlling -- marius literally owns amadeo and tells him precisely how to use his time, expects him to think/act in very specific ways, pushes him into sexual situations he's not comfortable with. armand tells daniel that his nights belong to armand, wakes him up and drags him wherever his whims take them, bosses him around, literally makes him wear his name around his neck, pushes him into sexual situations he's not comfortable with. there are different vibes to this control - marius' status as head of household is societally sanctioned and his interest in amadeo's education often makes him come off as much more paternal, while armand's tendency to have daniel organize his plane trips and arrange business expenses makes him come off more as a boss, but enforcement is also really different.

marius enforces his will mostly through acts of physical abuse and expects strict compliance. the physical abuse spills messily into their bdsm dynamic (i would say there are several points in TVA where the lines between "i am punishing you for real because i'm mad for real" and "this is sexy punishment" are SUPER blurry, but i digress). marius grows angry with amadeo and hurts him until amadeo changes his behavior.

the pattern of control between armand and daniel is different from this in pretty substantial ways. armand doesn't tend to punish daniel's behavior with expectations of compliance -- he seems to badger daniel into doing what he wants through persistence, annoyance, and just sorta pushing him into it. see-- armand waking him up in the middle of the night, armand bugging him until he calls paris, armand physically pulling him around to do whatever it is he wants to do. when daniel puts his foot down and leaves, armand... doesn't tend to do anything about it. there's no system of punishment, there's no system of enforcing his will beyond wearing daniel down.

which i think brings me to my last thought. the movement between the two relationships differs in really interesting ways. marius leaves amadeo in venice, again and again, to visit the ones who must be kept. his tendency to skip town is the biggest point of conflict between them, and amadeo's reactions to this strongly shape the narrative. marius goes, amadeo stays.

meanwhile, with armand and daniel, it is daniel who leaves, again and again, before ultimately choosing to go back to armand, growing sick of it, and running away again. armand tries to spoil him, the attention grows suffocating, and daniel runs again. this feels notable. armand tries very desperately to seize full control of his relationship and still, five hundred years later, he's the one being left behind, the one waiting. *obviously, amadeo is being sexually abused; it is still sexual assault even if it is physically pleasurable in that moment -- i think the scene makes it clear that amadeo is pushed to do something he wouldn't have chosen to do on his own.

[beezaj]

First of all thank you for the question!

Really happy to know that people like my writing and wants to know more, and about the question, at the beginning after posting about gingerbrave team, I was going to write post focusing solo on pure vanilla but because of some personal reasons I was too busy with my life in general to write something and now 7-8 chapters of beast yeast is out and I will have to remake and rethink some aspects of this au (yes now this is a full au) which I can’t promise to you or myself that it will be soon, but this comment had made my brain go if full speed mode so I will make a short summary on ancients(-white lily since she is a big spoiler).

The beast one will be a part of a lore that I still need to work on so they will not be here sorry :(.

Again thank you for this comment and for bringing me back to writing!!! Hope you enjoy it!

Also the name of au is Baked goods

_________________________________________________

Pure vanilla cookie - originally pure vanilla cookie wasn't sure what to think of you, no really witch-like creature about whom nothing is known? Doesn't bring trust at all, but quite an old cookie by nature tries to see better in situations and cookies next to him (he was literally tortured by Shadow milk cookie and he STILL wanted to be his friend) that's why he was the first one (almost, well holly berry cookie met backer after pure vanilla so) to be nice to you among the ancients.

He wanted to understand you. why are you here? why did you start helping cookie kind? why now?Why a group of children?

But he trusts you more than all the other ancients and even considers you his close (almost too close) friend and comrade, he sincerely trusts you and always glad to see you whenever you visit the vanilla kingdom, he likes to tell you stories and interesting things about their world when you do visit.

He doesn't mind that you guide gingerbrave and his friends after all these little children are close to pure vanilla cookie and he is sincerely glad that there is someone in the world who can protect and help them in case of need.

He knows that he can count on you.

HollyBerry cookie - her opinion on you is almost as good as pure vanilla’s if not the same ! Really and how can it not be when your very first meeting was in the battle against the greenish red dragon.

with you both of you against that old cranky lizard! as cookies say “enemy of my enemy is my friend” (she doesn’t really think of pitaya dragon cookie as an enemy tho)

of course when she just learned about you she was shocked and kinda confused by you but hey you were there to help so no problems in that.

right now she views you as a good person and descant supporter since in the first (and only ) battle she had seen you in action all you did was supporting the group of kids ,who at the time, also included her granddaughter.

Sure you appreciate might be little bit unsettling since you do look very much like a witch and you silent presence can be uncomfortable but you known to be doing only good things for your kingdom and cookie of it.

What harm in that , that is basically what she and her friends are doing.

She quiet found of your company and frankly it would probably be interesting to stay and spend time together more, but an cookie like her just can’t be on one place for too long she needs adventure she need the trill of free life! And that’s were your paths are going separate.

Tho she is always happy to see you and your little friends whenever you paths do cross again.

Maybe she should come visit your kingdom at least once, she heard a lot of good things about that place and would be happy to see it with her own eyes….

Maybe one day.

Dark cacao cookie -oh how many problems you had with this one.

From all ancients he was the second hardest cookie to befriend the only reason why he’s not the first one is because white lily cookie still doesn’t trust you.

Firstly he was threatened by you, like for him it’s already hard enough to trust an ordinary cookie, always expecting betrayal.

And the situation with the living void ? Yea let’s say his first impression of you was far from good.

The outlanders themself were a problem and they brought some type of beast with them?!?!? HOW DARE THEY AND YOU TO SHOW UP HERE!! He was full determent to make all of you regret that decision.

And then the battle with living void happened and short after he had lost control and become a monster by himself. It’s really good that the group of children were in time to reveal that thy here on pure vanilla’s behalf, when he hade heard them mention the name of a friend that he thought to be long time gone, he finally listened. Well more like read

Pure vanilla’s letter that had explained a lot of thing in.

It was truly nice to know that he was okay and that same outlanders that he thought were here for trouble were the one who helped his friend in need.

And after that moment his trust in you and the group of children started to build up.

Dark Cacao himself isn’t very chatty cookie himself but he dose accidentally talks to you

Your not his friend (not yet) but you are his ally and with every single battle you hade supported him in , his view on you became more positive

Who knows maybe one day he would call you his friend?

Golden cheese - her view on you and relationship in general very similar to dark cacao.

At the beginning she did not like you at all , she had her own virtual kingdom with all her trespassers and no place for outside things.

Then you and outlanders showed up , you fought, firstly against each other then together against smoked cheese cookie.

She find out you from pure vanilla and etc.

Just unlike Dark cacao she dose consider you a friend, gained witch like creature a friend, friend that she quite found of.

My-my, And how can she not ? You are very interesting as a ally as a person as a possible new treasurer of hers.

I mean she already considers her ancient friend, her people, even animals in her kingdom her treasures

why not add a new precious stone to her collection?

[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n and Lando have a friendly competition to see who can get more numbers and y/n gets upset when Lando gets the number of someone who actually likes him

omg this is such a great idea, thanks for trusting me to write it anon! ily!

tw: fem! reader, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything else.

w/c: 1.2k

"truth or dare?" lando asks. neither of you are even that drunk so how you had resorted to playing high school party games in the middle of the club was beyond you, all you knew that is if lando wanted you to jump off the nearest bridge you would be pulling up the directions on google maps on your phone seconds later.

"dare" you grin, thinking your choice to be bold, especially when you were playing with lando. your fears are confirmed when he smiles like a cheshire cat at your answer, like it was exactly what he wanted.

"okay well this is kinda a dare for us both, a challenge if you will.." lando trails off as you stand there, drink in hand waiting for him to continue with what was probably going to be a god awful plan or 'challenge' as he called it. you hum out to show you were listening and interested.

"it's simple really, we go around the club and try and see who can get the most numbers, whoever gets the most in the next two hours wins." lando explains. you honestly do not think you have ever heard of a worse game in your life. you guess it does not help if you were in love with your competition. you knew how hard it was seeing lando flirt with random girls in the clubs you had joined him in every weekend or so. you sigh as you contemplate his offer.

"what do i get if i win?" you ask, wanting to make watching the man you were in love with flirt it up with other girls, worth it. it is lando's turn to think as you watch on, desperate for him to decide to call it off, the idea of him getting other girls numbers unsettling, but you knew you could never pull out without hearing the end of it from your opponent.

that smile returns and before you can focus too much on the swirly, fuzzy feeling it creates in your stomach he's speaking up. "the winner gets a whole week of favours from the loser." you probably do not think hard enough about how badly this could end for you before you agree and you are both on your separate ways, hunting for your first victim. you do not feel very comfortable flirting with these random guys, promising to call them and the likes, when you knew that your heart belonged to the stupid boy who had probably only suggested this so he could get girls numbers for when he was lonely.

after an hour you had near enough given up as it felt draining talking to so many men, when none of them even cared enough to ask your name. it was exhausting and this point you knew you just wanted to go home but you knew you still had an hour of this left so you soldier on, continuing your bland and boring conversations with the lamest guys you had seriously ever met.

an hour and a half in and you had only gotten ten phone numbers., you knew as soon as you and lando had counted them up to see who the winner was they would be getting thrown away so you did not really care much to keep them pretty or even safe as you were sure you lost a few navigating through the club crowds.

you had tried not to watch lando jump from girl to girl, most of the time not even having to lay on any charm or anything. you decided in that moment to hate him for the rest of your life. even though you love him it was literally killing you to see this happen right in front of your eyes, and you had no one to blame bar yourself as you had literally encouraged this to happen by agreeing to his stupid dare/ challenge. at this point you had stopped caring about losing and started thinking about how what lando would make you do for the next week straight could never be as bad as watching him throw himself at hundreds of different girls. your eyes are glued to lando as you watch him saunter over to a group of girls, one you could recognise from a million miles away. it was that stupid model that was always liking and commenting on lando's instagram posts. you knew for a fact that she genuinely already had a liking towards lando and the thought of him handing her his number had made you feel sick to your stomach. there was no way in hell you were sticking around to see this one, you were sure this one would be the one that broke you.

you sling the coat that is hanging over your arm around your shoulder and slide your arms into the arms of the jacket before weaving through the crowd to the club exit. you knew lando would probably be going home with blonde model for the night, you heading home by yourself like always. you tried not to be bitter but you were so tired of begging anyone and everything that it would one day be you that lando begs to take home, even for just one night, you would take that over never knowing his touch easily.

you wait for your uber outside in the cold, hearing the noise of the club come and go as the doors to the building open and close as people enter and exit as they please. one of the last times you hear the door open and close you hear footsteps approach you slowly, you cannot even find it in you to be scared because you can tell exactly who it is from the footfall alone, nevermind the overpowering scent that seems to follow you around even after you had left the boys presence.

"y'going home already? cause y'know 've won?" lando teases but you are not in the mood so you fimd it hard to muster up even a fake laugh. lando frowns at you, confused.

"wait what's wrong?" he asks, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him.

instead of answering his question you reply "i have an uber coming. it's on its way." lando nods but speaks up again anyway.

"did you not like the game? did someone say something to you?" he presses, his sudden protective nature doing nothing to help the heart eyes you feel forming as you stare at him.

"no one said anything. how many numbers did you get?" you ask. lando frowns at the way you change the conversation, worried for you.

"i didn't get any." he says, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. you furrow your brows in confusion.

"i seen you talk to loads of girls?" you tell him, eyes trailing over his face trying to catch him out in a lie. you could not.

"didn't get any of their numbers though? realised after the first girl i talked to that none of them even held a candle to you, sweetheart." lando smiles as his thumbs trace a path down your cheeks.

"not even that blonde model who liked all of your instagram posts?" you ask, feeling a little insecure because of lando's out of the blue, kinda confession.

"nah, just went around talking about you all night." lando confesses. "i would've came back to you sooner but you know me, can't give up on a challenge first." you roll your eyes at his words. you link your hand with his and pull him to stand beside you to wait for your uber and he does so without a complaint.

[asdfghjklartblog]

Vermillion

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (here)

Hello! Sorry this took a bit longer, but the chapter is also longer than usual so hopefully it makes up for it! So this is like almost exactly 7.4k words so take a little break, grab a drink and maybe some tissues because I cried while writing this one. I’m also generally an emotional person so that’s not saying a lot tbh. Anyways have fun!

Tw: Neglect, Slight gore, Obvious favouritism

——————————

There’s no other way to say it, Jason’s been following you around both in and out the manor. But considering you’re a homebody who does nothing but go to school, read and write fanfics, draw commissions and whatnot, it was pretty damn easy to just follow you around. At first you found it unsettling, even you, a daddy’s girl didn’t hang around your daddy that much. But he grew on you, like how ivy grows along the side of a building. You guys get to talking and you two realise that you lived close to each other before you were taken in by Bruce. Which is both a pleasant and sad surprise. You love Jason, he was your family just like Luke.

You don’t know what’s going on with Dick per se, but you heard through the grapevine that he’s studying to be a cop in Bludhaven. He comes back home sometimes, well more rarely than anything but whatever. It’s not like it’s your problem. The two of you still have nothing in common, and he still finds your doujinshi and your obsession with anime a bit… Weird but he doesn’t say anything anymore. And considering that the two of you are older now, you don’t out right avoid or fight each other anymore. Mostly because he’d kick your ass.

Bruce is… Different. Not in a bad way but, he feels more unsure? Whatever Dick and Bruce fought about, you could tell that Bruce was still grumpy about it. I mean who could blame him? Dick was his favourite, his golden child, the one he wanted, the one he chose. You try not to think about it, because it hurts. And then it hurts more as you start to spiral and if it gets too bad you start feeling sick. But it’s fine. You’re fine. This is fine. Bruce is getting closer to Jason, it kinda makes your heart clench as you see their relationship progress. Jason tried to invite you to spend time with them but you knew Bruce would be uncomfortable, and you’d probably be throwing up less than a minute in from anxiety.

However you started thinking about being trans masc, at least that’s what you remember it being called. ‘Cause Robin was probably right. She has a knack for sensing these kinds of things. She helps you look into where to get HRT and how the process works. However the problem was getting permission from Alfred and Bruce to get the treatment. You don’t necessarily think it’d be a big deal but Alfred was old. He doesn’t seem like the type of man to be transphobic but, you never know. But Bruce? You weren’t too sure about him. On one hand he’s a respectful and good man. On the other hand he is a man and a playboy, so honestly the odds didn’t look too good.

The first person you come out to is well, Robin. Obviously. Well I mean she already knew so was it really coming out? It’s more like she was waiting for you to come out of the see-through a glass closet. However the second person is by complete accident. You see, you were tutoring Eric in Algebra. You didn’t have a choice, you were volunteering as a tutor and you couldn’t just refuse a person without a good cause. You were explaining polynomials to him and he just suddenly throws his head back and groans. “Ugh, this is so fucking gay. What do we even fucking need this for.”

And you replied without thinking. You chuckle before saying. “Yeah just like me.”

The both of you freeze before he just slowly turns to you and asks. “Dude, you serious?”

You lean back against the chair’s backrest and sigh. “Yeah.”

He then waits a beat before saying. “So like, you like women? You like pussy?”

You almost choke on the laughter that just bubbled out which he just looks at you weirdly for. You catch your breath and try to clear up the confusion. “Sorry, I don’t know why but that was really funny to me. But uh, maybe? I’m not sure yet. But I mean that I’m a man that likes other men.”

You can see that Eric needed to connect the dots, and you know he’s got it when his eyebrows shot up and he lets out a little. “Oh.”

You nod and say. “Yeah, I found out like a year ago but didn’t have time to delve into it at the time.”

He then nods, letting out a small hum. He sits up straight before looking at you and just says. “I think I like guys too.”

Your neck slowly turns to him and you raise an eyebrow at that before sassily turning back to the textbook and replying with. “Ew, that’s so gay.”

He immediately turns to you with a flabbergasted look on his face. You try your best to keep your smile down but he can tell. He punches your shoulder playfully before saying. “Fuck off man, piece of shit gay boy.”

You answer back with. “Pot calling the kettle black.”

Eric rolls his eyes and the two of you chuckle before a calm silence fills the room again. After a few moments he gets serious and saying. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

You look at and you can clearly tell that he’s nervous about what you’re about to say. You let him stew in his anxiety a little longer before giving him an answer. “I won’t, I promise.”

He releases a breath that he kept down in his anxiousness. Eric then says. “Hey, if you ever want like help to make your body bigger or whatever, I can help. I mean I am on the football team and run defense!”

You smile at him in a way that looks like you’re playing around with him like a cat toying around with a mouse. “Yeah? You got any moves to show me?”

His eyes widen almost comically as he immediately turns red, the freckles on his face barely visible because of it. He then tries to laugh it off before saying. “Wow! I am beat! I think I’m gonna go now.”

You look at the time and you say in a confused tone of voice. “Eric we still have like more than hour of studying-“

But he’s already packing his things and rushing out the entrance of library. You sigh and start to pack your own things before you notice some blonde dude in a trench coat. You felt someone’s eyes on you before, and you kinda feel like it might be that guy. It’s pretty quiet in the library and despite there being more than enough seats, he sits right in front of you. He flashes you a charming smile and when you look at him, he reminds you so much of Daddy. He’s also got the scruffy stubble on his jaw and above his lips. He then says with a scouse accent. “Hello, my name’s John Constantin-“

You interrupt him and loudly say. “Sir, I am underage.”

A few heads turn and he sighs then chuckles before saying. “Cheeky little thing aren’t you.”

You shrug before starting to pack up. He then looks you up and down before asking. “Mind telling me about something kid?”

You groan and ask him. “What? What the hell do you want? Why are you, as the people from where you live would say, gegging in?”

He raises an eyebrow before he asks. “You know scouse?”

You reply with. “I looked it up and watched a couple videos on it late at night. Kinda stuck to my brain for some reason.”

He nods before saying. “Makes sense. Now tell me, you seen any owls lately?”

Your heart skips a beat but you’re able to maintain your cool as you finish packing up, you then reply with. “Not really, I mean owls are hard to find in gotham not many trees and all that.”

He eyes you up and down before saying. “Don’t lie kid, it won’t do you any good.”

You get up and glare at him before saying. “Go fuck yourself.”

He smirks before sarcastically calling out as you walk away. “We actually say ‘sod off’ but nice try!”

You rush out of the library and go home. What the hell was that, and how did he know about the owl in your dreams? You haven’t told anyone except Luke. Maybe you shouldn’t have just blown the guy off. You sigh as you think about it a bit more, but you’re tired from studying and just wanna have dinner and then go to bed. The dreams stop for a while after that, letting you sleep peacefully.

You start to do better in your classes for some reason, it’s definitely not the result of you now sleeping restfully and exercising with Eric. But after you start seeing the results, seeing the muscle on your arms and your back and whatnot, leaves you feeling amazing. It even gives you the confidence boost to come out to Luke who just says. “Yeah, I kinda guessed. Either that or you were some kinda freak.”

You pushed him playfully after he said that. He laughs and throws one arm around your shoulder and ruffles your hair. He sighs, as he goes back to lie down on the grass. The two of you are just hanging out on the grass as the two of you look at the stars. He then hums before saying. “You know, I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since we met. I still remember when you barely came to my waist, and now you’re just an inch above my shoulder! Absolutely insane.”

After he says that you sigh, you start to tear up as you say. “You know how I have trouble remembering stuff? I… I’m starting to forget my memories with my daddy. And I don’t want to forget. I try to write them down but, I can only remember general things. I can’t remember what was there, what we were doing-“

Luke interrupts you gently, and say in a low voice. “I know it’s scary. I had the same fears as you did when I started to realise that I couldn’t remember Monchi, my first dog. You want me to tell you about him?”

You close your eyes as you listen to him talk, he talks about how Monchi died when he was barely 6, and that he was a small pug that was also kinda fat. How the dog loved napping the most, and loved sleeping on Luke the best. How the dog loved those bacon treats you would always see on the commercials. You laugh and the two of you decide to keep a journal of your most precious memories.

One day you realise that you haven’t told Jason yet, and but figured that he probably wouldn’t know about any of that stuff so you put it off. However as you turn 16 you think that you should probably tell Alfred sooner than later. When you tell Alfred and he smiles gently as he says. “You are very brave for telling me. And I thank you for trusting me enough to tell me miss- no, master y/n. Excuse me but it will take some time before I ingrain this information into my memory.”

You nod and then continue as you say. “I was actually hoping that you could help me with something? I-I really want to get HRT, and I need Bruce’s consent to do that. I was really hoping you could maybe convince him? I just I’m scared of telling him myself.”

Alfred looks at you sadly before nodding and says. “How about we tell him now? He has an opening right now, and since he stayed home today, you can tell him face to face.”

You panic and reply with a stammer. “N-No that’s okay really I can wai-“

Alfred then starts to drag you towards the lion’s den and Jesus, this old man is strong, what the hell. He then knocks on the door, and you’re hoping, praying to god that Bruce says he’s busy. However you hear Bruce call out. “Come in!” When both you and Alfred enter, Bruce raises an eyebrow, he’s probably thinking ‘What did she do now?‘ Alfred then says to Bruce. “Master y/n had some news to tell you. Nothing bad, good news actually.”

You then blurt out a tad bit too loud. “I’m trans. A-And I like men. And I think I like girls?”

Alfred and Bruce stare at you in complete silence. Thankfully, Bruce interrupts the awkward silence with. “Congratulations. Is there.. Anything else?”

You take a deep breath and ask. “Can you sign the consent form for the HRT treatment?”

Bruce nods and then goes back to work. That was super anticlimactic. But at least you got permission! Over the next month you and Bruce fills out all the forms and you’re overjoyed! Everything is great you’re voice is getting deeper, you’re growing even taller, you started getting chest hair among… Other things. But overall this is great!

One day at school, you’re studying in the library in the little corner where nobody can see you when you overhear some people making fun of you. You don’t really care though, you’ve made your peace with how weird you are. However their topic then changes to Jason.

A boy says. “Have you seen that kid? He doesn’t deserve to be here, he’s alley trash! He should be back on the street with that slut of a mother he has.”

They giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world, it grates on your ears. Another girl continues, saying. “Oh my god! Nick you can’t say that! But really, how is he getting good grades? Maybe his mom taught him a thing or two!”

You’re frozen in place, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. It feels vile, disgusting and you feel like tearing out the very throats that are assaulting your ears.

Another girl joins in and says. “We should get him to get kicked out of the school! Maybe we could make look like he’s harassing us or something? Oh! We could make it seem like he’s taking advantage of us!”

You get up. You’ve heard enough. As you walk to where the girls are, you feel red hot anger going through your veins. You get to where they are, and hearing their cruel suggestions laughter grates on your nerves. You walk right up to them, getting up close and personal before growling. “What the fuck did you say?”

The girls look at you as if you were a piece of gum on the sole of their shoe, the boy looks at you with a smirk as if to challenge you. The boy pushes you away and says. “Oh, look! It’s bloody mary, what are you doing here? Did you hear what we said? You’re lucky it isn’t you we’re targeting. At least half of you is worthy of being here.”

You glare at them before getting right up in the boy’s face again, you brush your hair back and stand up straighter and saying. “If you don’t fucking shut up, and mind your business. If I see any of you near my little brother, it’s on fucking sight. You understand me? I’ll fucking get teachers involved, the police, your parents, I’m dragging you all down.”

The guy scoffs and pushes you away before saying. “You and what army? Everyone in school knows that Bruce doesn’t care about yo-“

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence as you uppercut him. He stumbles a bit before he collapses onto the floor, unconscious. Then you look at the girls and hiss. “Either you stop whatever the fuck you’re planning, or I come back with more than just my fucking fists”

The girls look at each other and nod hesitantly. You leave them be as you go back to your little corner in the library. You then pack up your things and leave, way too angry to study. So you just go to the cafeteria, where you see Jason happily eating with his friends. You start to calm down and smile stupidly as you see him safe and happy, he notices you staring and mouthes the words. “Stop looking at me.” You chuckle as you turn away to scroll on your phone.

You were called to the principal’s after that, but there was no video evidence to prove that showed that you knocked out with whatever that guy’s name was. It’s not that it was edited out, it just messed up during the time you were there. Weird. But since there was no evidence saying otherwise you got suspended and this time it was put on record. Bruce was disappointed in you but to fair when wasn’t he? Jason heard what you did and spent the week you were just hanging out with you and giving you random hugs. Which didn’t really bother you, you liked the physical affection. And after so long of barely having any, it feels nice. You assume it’s the same for Jason. Not that his situation was the same as yours but you know.

You always try and let Jason come to you, like a cat. Cause sometimes he just gets really shy or standoffish about physical affection, probably trying to unconsciously defend himself or something. It’s a bit hard to restrain yourself though when he’s so cute, you even get cuteness aggression from just seeing him. And thank god for Alfred feeding this boy, because in less than a year he’s in the target weight for his size and age and now he’s got these cute chubby cheeks and you just love pinching them. He absolutely hates it though. And sometimes you have this urge to just… Sit on him though? It’s so weird. Like you wish you were a giant cat or something so you could lie on top of him so he’d be warm, toasty and safe under you.

Now you’re 17, and usually you don’t celebrate your birthday, but since Luke came back from his tour in Afghanistan, and Jason saying that it could be fun, led the two of you to baking your own cake in the kitchen. So with Alfred’s permission and under his watchful eye, you guys bake a cake. You brought out the ingredients you needed out from the pantry and fridge, Jason was in charge of mixing things together and Luke was making sure the oven was preheated and then started to make the (kind of frosting you like). You take out the cake molds and ask the two of them. “How many layers should we make and how big should we make it? And another question, what flavour of cake would you guys prefer?”

Luke shrugs and says. “I’m fine with anything. I ain’t picky.”

Jason thinks about it for a moment before saying. “Mango, or maybe we could make like an earl grey cake?”

You respond with. “We’re doing (favourite cake flavour).”

Luke rolls his eyes while he smiles, he looks to Jason and says. “Whenever I get a slice cake for him, he always chooses that flavour. I don’t even know why I bother to even ask at this point.”

Jason snickers at that while you huff and say. “It’s my favourite flavour. If you got a problem with it then take it up with management.”

Luke chuckles at that, and all of you continue to do the tasks you assigned each other. You guys laughed and joked around while making your cake. Then you guys put the cake mix in the oven, while it bakes the three of you go into the living room to play video games, you guys play (favourite game), and you let Jason play too. But he keeps making the wrong decisions so you and Luke end up backseat gaming and spoiling everything almost everything. While Jason is playing, Luke looks you up and down he notices something. “Shit, y/n. What has Alfred been feeding you? And where did you get all this muscle from? You look good, man.”

Your smile brightens up and you nod at him, saying. “Thanks, the HRT has been helping me build more muscle mass, I’m getting more hair too, but the mood swings are rough man. Like I switch from violently angry to violently…” You look at Jason and see that he’s still playing the game but decide to not say what you were thinking. “Excited.”

Luke makes grimaces and pushes your face away with one hand. “Gross. Did not need to know that.”

You chuckle and then you ask. “Is it normal to get butt hair?”

Luke shrugs and says. “I mean I guess, some of my friends back during my tour had ass hair. I accidentally caught a glimpse when I hit the showers a bit late from doing extra burpees the sergeant assigned for me.”

You nod and then ask him. “Was it because the sergeant was homophobic?”

Luke looks at you confused and says. “I’m not gay.”

Which makes you smile but you try to stifle it as you continue to talk. “Yeah you are, you’re so gay. You fuck dudes left and right.”

He groans and the replies with. “I am helping you with both your schoolwork and making your fucking cake, and you’re seriously gaslighting me into believing that I’m gay?”

You laugh at that and then school your face and with your best brooding face and Bruce voice, you say. “Fox. You are gay. You are-“ and then you do the gay limp wrist thing.

Luke busts out laughing at that, and then starts to cough as he says. “What the fuck.”

You smile back at him and then see Jason doing something that requires concentration you, then start to practically lay on top of him as you say. “Ugh, gravity is increasing on me Jason.”

He tries to push you off and he almost does because he’s actually pretty damn strong surprisingly. He starts to get annoyed and says. “No it isn’t!!”

You nonchalantly reply. “It is too, Jason. Same thing happened yesterday.”

He groans and growls. “NO!” After losing the concentration game. He lets out another groan before pushing you off and saying. “Get your fat ass off of me!”

You laugh as you get off of him but then before he can even move you pull him onto your lap and start hugging him tightly which makes him groan even louder before struggling to get you off. That made you laugh and you eventually pull away from him, he goes back to playing his game and you sit there and wonder as you look at both Luke trying to help Jason with the game. Do they even know how much they matter to you? Do they know you’d kill for them? That you’d get your hands bloody and bruised for them? Would they do the same for you, you ask yourself. Would they love you and protect you just as fiercely? You then turn back to the TV and decide to enjoy this little piece of heaven.

The three of you eventually get back into kitchen and ice and decorate the cake together. It’s a bit lopsided, but it’s yours. And that is what makes it perfect. You guys watch (fav comfort movie) while you guys eat the cake. You guys all sleep in your room that night, having a little sleepover together.

In the morning you see that Jason is gone, you yawn and get up to go find him. You see his bedroom light is open and for some reason, you have this gut feeling. It tells you to be quiet, to peek into Jason’s room. Your brows furrow and you decide to trust your gut. You gently move the door, and peer into Jason’s room. You see Jason is changing. Gross. But as you’re about to close the door you see scars and bruises littering his torso. You freeze and decide to keep watching, why the hell does he have those? You’re almost absolutely sure he’s not getting bullied. You’ve made sure of that. So where did those marks come from? It can’t be Bruce, he might not love you, but he definitely loves Jason. And he isn’t the person to do that, you know it. It can’t be Alfred, he’d rather chop his arm off than hurt any of us. So who?

You then barge in, making Jason jump. Before he can say anything, you march up to him and pointing at the large purple bruise on his ribs you growl out. “What happened? Why the hell are you this scratched up and hurt? I know it isn’t from school and it not from-“

He tries to placate you by looking up at you with apologetic eyes and gently saying. “Y/n-“

You glare at him and say. “Don’t you fucking,” You then mimic the way he said your name and then continue. “I asked you a question and you better tell me the damn truth. I can read you like a fucking book Jason Peter Todd, don’t fucking play with me.”

Jason looks at you in the eyes and then looks to the ground. He sighs and says. “I’m in an underground fighting ring.”

You raise an eyebrow and roll your eyes before snarkily saying. “Yeah? Why the fuck is there cuts and slash scars on your skin then.”

He replies scoffs and mockingly says. “There’s a reason it’s called underground, there’s no rules.”

Your eyes widen at his attitude and you glare at him as you continue. “Don’t take that tone with me, boy. I may not be your father or mother but I am still still an elder.”

Jason looks at you with an unimpressed look and says. “You are three years older than me you are NOT and elder.”

You respond with. “Who made you the elder expert.”

Jason crosses his arms before growling. “No one. You’re just so unqualified that it’s clear to everyone.”

You’re about to respond to him again when you realise he’s trying to distract you. You then take a breath to calm down before saying. “Okay. Whatever. That’s not important. I’m just. Tell me the truth Jason, please. I’m your older brother, if you can’t trust me, who can you trust? I love you, very much. I promise I won’t be mad. I just want to know.”

Jason looks into your eyes before he sighs. He looks around the room before he gestures for you to lean in close. You do so giving him your ear, he then whispers into your ear. “Go fuck yourself.”

You pull away and groan in indignation before growling. “Fine! Keep your secrets! But don’t come to me when you need help.”

You march out of his room and accidentally slam his door, unaware that you practically broke the door and the wall around it. Why the fuck wouldn’t he tell you? Especially if he’s getting hurt from it! You can help, you’d do whatever he needs. You stop in your tracks and you know, that if you walk away now, you’re giving him a chance to cover his tracks. You’re giving him a chance to shut you out from… Whatever he’s going through. You groan, being a good big brother is hard. You start walking back and gently knocking on his door. The door falls over and you let out a surprised little noise. You see he’s staring at you before he turns away and puts his chin in his hand.

You take a deep breath and go to sit next to him. You sigh and you hesitantly put your hand on his shoulder. “Jason. Just… Please? Please just tell me what’s going on? Are you being bullied or something? Are you really going to some underground fighting ring? If so I’m not letting you go, at least not alone. Jason you’re my little brother. You and Luke are the only family I have-“

Jason blurts out. “I’m Robin.”

You freeze. You look at him incredulously and ask. “What?”

Jason also looks surprised. He then looks away and then turns back to you. “I- That was a joke.”

You look closer at Jason and you absolutely know he was telling the truth just now. You stand up and start pacing around the room before you come to a realisation. “Bruce… Bruce is..?”

Jason looks away, and that tells you everything you need to know. Everything starts to click together. Bruce is fucking Batman. Fucking Bruce?! Oh my god that’s why Batman can get all those gadgets. It makes total sense! And that means Dick was… Oh my god Dick was the former Robin, holy shit. What the fuck. You look at Jason and you want yell, scream, punch, not because you’re angry at him, but because you’re livid at Bruce for allowing this. They’re just kids! Jason hugs you from behind, startling you from your thoughts and says. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

You turn to look at him and gently cup his cheeks before saying. “No. No, I could never be mad at you. It’s not your fault. But Bruce-“

He holds your hands and puts them down before saying. “Bruce is doing his best. He’s been helping us. You saw how angry and how he’d used to be so angry.”

You then argue with him. “He’s still angry!”

Jason rolls his eyes and continues. “And I’ve been learning to control myself. I just, please. I like doing this. I get to help people-“

You raise your voice, not at him, but because you’re trying to plead for him to see things your way. “You can help people in different ways! You can volunteer-“

He then shouts as he looks deep into your eyes. “You know that’s not enough! Look at us! Look at why we’re here. It’s because it’s never enough. Look at how they dismissed your dad’s murder so easily! They closed the case in less than a month! Something was clearly going on there!”

You turn away from him, putting one hand on your waist and using the other to pinch the bridge of your nose. Jason continues and says. “If that really worked, neither of us would’ve been adopted by Bruce-“

You try to walk away from him but he quickly blocks your path and grabs your wrist. “Y/n please, it’s for the good of-“

“But what about you? I know you think it’s good, but is it? You’re 13-“

He interrupts and says. “I’m turning 14-“

You sarcastically say. “Yeah because that makes a WORLD of difference, yeah, sorry I didn’t realise you could pay your taxes and shit Mr. 14 year old.”

Jason’s hold on your wrist tightens and he argues. “Whatever! Look this is my choice-“

You interrupt him this time. “Really? Because to me it looks like Bruce is being insane, carless and-“

Jason growls back. “You take that back y/n-“

“No! This is actually insane Jason, he is making you fight people like the fucking killer clown, that scarecrow dude with the fear gas-“

“It’s actually a toxin-“ He grumbles under his breath, but you hear it. All this back and forth is driving you up the wall. You finally snap and start yelling.

“WHO THE FUCK CARES JASON THE FACT IS THAT YOU SHOULD BE SAFE, YOU SHOULD BE HERE, HAVING FUN, BEING A KID, NOT HAVING THE WORLD OR PEOPLE’S LIVES ON YOUR-“

You then realise that he’s looking at you scared, his hands are even shaking. You remember what he said about his dad. How he used to yell and beat him when he got drunk. You know this. You promised him you’d never yell at him, that you’d always love and care for him. Listen to him. But right now you’re yelling. You’re yelling at your baby brother, it doesn’t matter what you’re saying, or whether you meant to or not. You still yelled at him. Guilt floods your systems and the anger in your chest has changes into a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. You slowly reach for him as you gently call his name but he smacks your hand away and runs out the room. You feel awful, how could you do that to him? You were angry and frustrated but you know better. You’re his safe house, you’re supposed to protect him. You turn around and try to chase after him but you bump into Luke. Seeing your panicked state and wide eyes he looks at you worried and asks. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

You’re about to say exactly what happened but, it’s his secret. It’s not your place to tell. You’re angry, but you aren’t stupid. This isn’t a secret you can just tell, you might trust Luke but Jason doesn’t know him as well as you do. You sigh and just give him a general overview of what just happened. Luke looks at you sadly and says. “Maybe you should give him some time-“

In a panicked tone you trip over your words but manage to get out. “But I- I have to apologise, I need to- I need to fix this! Luke, I’m supposed to-“

He grabs your shoulders and says. “Calm down. I know you’re scared that this will drive a wedge between you two, and honestly it might. I’m not gonna lie, but I also know that you both love each other a lot. You two are like two peas in a pod, partners in crime, however you wanna say it. He knows you didn’t mean to hurt him, of course you should still apologise but… Yeah just. Give him some space. He’ll come around-“

You then pause and then weakly say. “And what if he doesn’t? What if he decides I’m-“

Luke rolls his eyes and then says. “And what if you explode tomorrow. Look, it’s going to be fine. I know it.”

So you wait. And wait. And wait. Two whole weeks passes of him avoiding you. You try to talk to him but he always leaves without a word. It hurts. The knowledge that you hurt him so badly that he won’t talk to you, makes your heart twist with frustration at yourself. You try your best to give him space, but as the days pass it gets harder and harder to stay put. Especially when you know what he’s doing at night.

You have a dream again, maybe because you’re stressed. But this feels worse. You wake up, lying down on the beach. You get up with a groan and see you’re at the same beach that your other dreams took place in. However this time you see foot prints all over the beach. Some of them bird like, some of them look like normal human foot prints. And some of them look… Unnatural. You stand there looking around before you hear a soft crying behind you. It has an owl mask, you kneel onto the floor and ask the kid. “Hey, what’s wrong-“

She mumbles something you don’t catch. You pause and try to ask her to repeat herself when she repeats what she says. You barely catch what she says so you ask again. She whispers. “It hurts.”

Before you can ask what hurts she repeats herself a bit louder. “It hurts.”

You start to see where this is going so you start to back off but bump into another child as you walk backwards. You recognise this one is a boy and at the same time they repeat the words ‘It hurts’. You try to back away from them but you only find two more children blocking your way. Every time you turn away, more of them appear. They’re all different, all shapes and sizes, the only common factor between these kids are the fact all of them seem to be under 15.

They keep repeating the phrase, and with every time they say it they grow louder. You try to cover your ears but it does nothing. They’re surrounding you now, they’re screaming, pleading for you to help them, to save them. You feel your pants being tugged and that’s when you see that more kids are coming up from the sand. But they’re not climbing up, no, they’re pulling you down. The sand beneath your feet start to loosen, making it that much easier for them to pull you down with them. You try to pry then off you but like a hydra every kid you pry off, three more take it’s place. You scream for them to let you go, but none of them listen. You start to see flashes of visions, of children and needles, of people in masks, of a dark ballroom and an altar on the other side of the room. The sand is up to your waist now, numerous small hand clawing at your skin, leaving trails of blood in their wake. Their hands start to reach your face, their hands covered in your blood as they clamour to drag you into sand, grabbing and scratching where they can reach. The sand is now right under your chin. You get your hand free to try to pry yourself out, but it doesn’t work. The last thing you see is an owl as your mouth and lungs start to fill with sand.

You wake up with a gasp and start coughing out sand, you run to your bathroom sink as you throw up more sand as well at last night’s dinner. You hear someone coming into your room, and in your panicked state you grab the soap dispenser. As the person tries to come in you swing at him, the person dodges and you let out an animalistic growl and follow the person. Your eyes are unfocused and you can barely see, it’s like you can see enough to move but not enough to recognise anything. You hear something, like someone’s talking, but it’s so muddled that it seems like distorted noise. You swing again and the person dodges again, but you catch them off guard as you throw it straight at their face which nearly hits the intruder’s, but instead it hits the wall behind him. You tackle the stranger but they use that force against you and throws you onto the ground. They pin you to the ground with great difficulty as you groan and growl like an animal, the intruder then jumps off you and makes a run to your bed. You follow and as you’re grabbing and lifting you’re the brown thing by a bigger thing over your head to smash into the intruder’s head, you hear your daddy’s voice.

You freeze and your eyes start to clear up, you can see again. You’re huffing and puffing, you the put your bedside table on the ground. You’re room is mostly okay, if not a bit messy because of the fighting. You look to your bed and see that Jason’s looking at you with wide eyes with your Oliver plushie in his hands. You start to piece together what happened and sigh before you stretch your body lightly. Jason then yells at you. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

You groan and then say. “It just happens sometimes-“

Jason’s eyes widen further and he continues. “SOMETIMES!? You were acting like some backed up rabid animal! And that’s normal?!”

You turn around and massage your temples before saying. “Really? And you’re so much better, Mr. ‘Boy wonder’? Look if you came here to judge me-“

Jason makes you turn around and is about to yell again but stops himself. Instead he lets out a sigh and pulls you into a hug. You’re a bit surprised but you hug him back you two stand there for a moment in silence. The two of you let go and you take a step back from him, he gives you a melancholy look before calming himself down fully. He takes another moment to think and then says. “I get it. We both have secrets. I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry for avoiding you, and I’m sorry for running-“

You interrupt him, grabbing his hand and try to assure him. “Jason, no! You had every right to do that. I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself I just, recently it’s been harder to. I’m not saying it to excuse myself, I’m saying it to explain myself. And I was so frustrated, I… Jason I want you to be safe. And what you’re doing… I can’t protect you from that. That made me angry and scared, and the way you kept brushing off my concerns just left me feeling more worried and scared. I love you so much Jason. We may not be related by blood, but you matter to me more than anyone else. Well not anyone else, you’re a very close third to Luke.”

Jason chuckles at that, he then brushes his hair out of his face before saying. “Yeah, I get that, I’m sorry about that. It’s just I… I know. It’s dangerous. Of course it is. You don’t have to tell me that. But I have to, cause if it’s not me, who will? Who’s gonna protect the kids that are going through the stuff we went through?”

You look at into his eyes and that’s when you know, he’s not gonna quit this. No matter what you say. You cup his cheeks and tear up, your baby, your little brother. It brings you so much pride, so much pain and tremendous amount of grief to your heart knowing that every night you’re going to bed, he’s going out there to fight criminals and villains. People who don’t care that he’s just a kid. That’s when you let out a shaky sigh and let the tears run down. You kiss the edge of his hairline and really look at him. You look at his hooded eyes with beautiful brown irises, like the sweetest milk chocolate, his fluffy black hair which you run your left hand runs through, his full cheeks, the permanent little smirk on his face, which makes you smile. You chuckle wetly as you squish his cheeks as he chuckles back. You exhale shakily before saying. “It’s like I’m sending you off to war. Is there any chance I can make you change your mind?”

He chuckles at that and shakes his head as he looks back at you tearfully. You nod and softly say. “I thought so.”

You let go of him and you get a tissue to wipe your face. Once your face is dry you go back to him and say. “I’m not gonna stop you. I don’t think I’d be able to anyways.”

You both chuckle at the before you continue. “But I want to help. Whatever you or Bruce want me to do I’ll do. Well less Bruce, more you. I want to do my best to keep you safe. Just because you’re a vigilante doesn’t change that. And I want you to promise me,” You say as you put up your right hand with your pinkie out. “No more secrets. Please.”

He stares at your hand and then at you before asking. “Are you serious-“

“Just take the damn pinkie Jason.” You say with exasperatedly.

He rolls his eyes and then takes it with his own pinkie. You then say. “Promise me, promise me that if there’s anything and I mean anything that is potentially life threatening or changing you will tell me.”

He pauses, thinking about it for a moment before saying. “I pinkie promise to not keep secrets that could be potentially life changing or threatening from you.”

You nod, and before you release his pinkie you quickly add in. “Or else I get a free punch.”

“Hey! That’s not what we-“

“Well I guess you should tell the truth then to avoid getting punched then.” You say with a smirk.

He then rolls his eyes before you pull him into a hug and say. “I love you. So much. You’re my one and only brother-“

“What about Dic-“

You then interrupt him with. “He doesn’t count.”

Jason laughs at that and then says. “I love you too. Until I take my last breath.”

——————————

Tag list: @simpingpandas @randomlyappearingartist @birbtweettweet @soulsire @crazycaoticsimp

I hope you guys liked it! And thanks for waiting patiently! Also I still need a beta reader, not to like edit or anything just to read it over and like critique my stuff. But yeah, this chapter took longer as well as like became longer than I anticipated. I was initially thinking this would be the chapter that I, well, you know. But it didn’t. We’ll also see either Kori and Barbara in the next chapter or so. And if you guys want to see like Ethan again let me know! Because this might be your last chance :)

[imaluvsj7]

✿ ─── TOUCH OF EUPHORIA : 이희승

SYNOPSIS : where 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung is desperate man

PAIRING : 𝓁ee 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung x gn 𝓇eader ; GENRE : friends 𝓉𝑜 lovers, 𝒻luff, yearning & 𝒹esperation ; WC : 1338

───── 【 𝒾mas’ note 】 ❍ :: getting hang of writing again so sorry this is kinda rusty, I've tried making gn this time so really sorry if you find specific gender mentioned anywhere. please leave fbs & ENJOY READING!!

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, reader loves to banter, hee is a loser trapped in a hot body — desperate and yearning, hee calls reader angel, lots of fluffy & they kiss!!!! a little bit of rusty writing.

DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“Visiting my house early in the morning with your pajamas still on isn't how i expected you to show up heeseung especially the following day of your confession,” you stand near your door looking at him with adoration with a teasing tone hidden behind your grin.

Heeseung stood in front of your doorsteps with his typical pajamas a white loose tank top and grey trousers, bedhead messy locks with some tousled strands tucked in places — showing he has tried to fix his hair on the way, his bambi eyes showing daze and their usual sparkle. (click to read more)

Yet his unsettling feet and palms showed his feelings — a mix of joy, excitement, a depth of overwhelmingly and maybe slightly anxious gaze which he couldn't hide and somewhat feeling euphoric.

“I woke up and went to directly check my phone then I saw your response to my confession and I couldn't control myself but I promise I have brushed my teeth and washed my face,” he explains hastily trying to assure you he has cleaned himself enough to show up.

You try to suppress your laugh but he was too adorable to control, looking at you chuckling he blushed profusely as his ears turned crimson red and warm.

Soon calming down you speak — “so heeseung did you feel satisfied with my response.” “You said you will reply in person….. uh- so do you reciprocate my feelings?” he stutters out his question.

“Is this why you came rushing?” you ask with a playful tone subsiding your laugh. “Please angel, just answer my question. I need to know your response in person,” he said, carrying a whiny tone and emphasizing his plea.

“Okay gosh but first come inside you goofball.”

─────═━ •❃• ━═─────

You both walk into the living room and sit on the couch, “you want anything to drink cause it's early morning you haven't had breakfast or something.” “No please let's just talk,” he pleads desperately.

God you are weak for men who yearn pathetically, it drives you insane. You want to scream in a pillow at his adorable yet desperate state.

“Okay okay let's talk,” you gesture at him to continue speaking. “I couldn't keep my feelings hidden anymore angel, so Jay pushed me to confess and I didn't have the guts to do it infront of your face so I preferred to text instead.”

“To be honest I said that because confessing on text is a chicken move and I wasn't fond of it so I told you to confront me in person for my response.” “Yeah that I understood after Sunoo and Jungwon smacked my head when I told them before leaving, I'm really sorry that was very cowardly and lame of me.”

“It's okay bambi boy you're forgiven since you're so adorable but now I'm waiting for you to repeat the same thing you know.”

“Stop teasing me — he groans, maybe more like whining with his lips forming a pout — okay now just listen to me and don't speak please or I might get nervous, “you're nervous” – angel please let me complete.

I have had feelings for you for three years right after we became friends, I couldn't control them. Whenever you grab my arm I feel a jolt of electricity running through my body, when you come over to take care of me when I'm sick I feel captivated by your presence, when you laugh at my silly jokes I feel an intense wave of euphoria, I feel butterflies in my stomach when I go to bed after we hangout. I cannot stop myself blushing and smiling, at this point all my friends know and make fun of me. I don't care if I sound desperate or pathetic. I just want you to know how I feel so please tell me how you feel or I might go insane.”

“Gosh bambi boy you make me want to squish the life out of you. I have feelings for you too, you idiot, it was pretty clear to everyone except for you bimbo. Why do you think I always agreed to hangout and spend time with you and laugh at your silly jokes because I love you dummy.”

You expected him to jump or maybe laugh or just react with some sort of excitement but rather his eyes are glossy showing his vulnerability and his big grin speaks for his happiness.

“Say something now you idiot,” “I will start crying you-you love me- you said those words.” He stands up abruptly startling you as he grabs you in a tight hug pulling you up from the couch and his feet softly bouncing in excitement showing his eagerness.

“Okay you stupid let's sit…. oh god bambi boy,” you laugh at his excitement as he stumbles and you both crash on the couch. “Sorry oh god that was embarrassing I couldn't help oh this is real,” he giggles still joyful from the adrenaline rush.

He shifts, getting both of you comfortable laying down on the couch and you both stay quiet for a few minutes covered in a comforting silence.

“You know you haven't said those words yet,” “I haven't what – how can I be so stupid oh my god I love you angel, so much and it keeps growing everyday, every minute and every second.”

“You know you're definitely desperate and corny but lucky for me I like my man yearning for me.” He laughs at your sassy words while nuzzling his face in your hair and it follows with a soft warm touch of his lips making you go still and your body feeling euphoric.

He turns your head into his direction as he inches himself close to your face, his warm breath hitting your lips as he whispers “Can I?” — nodding your head you give him consent.

He soon leans forward, your bodies pressed together and your lips meeting his and you can feel the taste of shared breath along with his natural scent consuming your brain making it foggy.

Jolts of electricity pass in your system sending a tingling sensation across your cloudy brain and your palms turn clammy. The feeling of euphoria crawling in your heart making loud thuds. Your lips part slightly as he slips his tongue inside making you grasp his tank top in a tight fist.

Your usual confidential facade falling off as your face flushes warmth turning your ears crimson red. Eyes closed with your one hand travelling from his hair to his nape and his one hand locking your lips in place while the other holds your waist with fingers caressing your skin.

Your heart blooms with a rush of contentedness and a warmth you couldn't despair — the feeling so new yet so exciting making you feel gleeful. The lack of oxygen forcing you both to slowly part away, he leaves a last peck on your puckered lips.

Taking your time to stabilize your breathing you start feeling shy and exposed but the way Heeseung grins widely with adoration shining in his bambi eyes, his hands holding yours with his fingers caressing your knuckles assuring you.

Guessing your vulnerability he pulls you to him hugging you closes, pressing his torso against yours. Nuzzling his chin against your head he tilts his head a little to give your forehead a loving peck soon returning to its position.

After somewhat ten minutes of comforting silence he spoke up “Just so you know I'm your boyfriend now and you're my girlfriend but Jay told me girls feel loved and special when we ask them out on a nice date so give me one day.”

Receiving no response he pulls away a little to find you in a peaceful slumber, his loving gaze admiring your peaceful self — when you aren't teasing him or being cheeky.

Returning to his position he closes his eyes drifting away in his dreamland except this time it wasn't him admiring you from afar rather holding your hand while walking on a beach with your ring finger shining with a gold ring reflecting the sunlight.

© 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐒𝐉𝟕 2025 | DO NOT PLAGIARISE ON ANY PLATFORM

💌 ─── NOTE : editing my taglist so please tell me if you wanna be added in my perm taglist.

˙ . ꒷ 🍥 masterlist daily click . 𖦹˙—

[demonslayedher]

So this clears the air--Sabito makes a roundabout acknowledgment of Giyuu feeling he did not prove himself, while also saving face for Murata, whom Sabito is grateful to. Giyuu understands Sabito's intentions, so he chooses not to argue and just do his best to accept being a Corp member. Murata also catches on to what Sabito meant, but Murata is also easy to mess with, so Sabito can't help himself with the opportunity to tease Murata by keeping his surname a secret (after Murata leaves the room, he warns Giyuu never to tell him). Murata knows what's up, so he retaliates by telling everyone who knows it to never to let Sabito know his personal name (and that is how I got around the name issue for this fun and stupid and short little fix-it AU).

So anyway, Sabito's arms got shattered when he broke the very hard neck of the Hand Demon, so he hangs out with Urokodaki during the long recovery, whereas Giyuu heals up quick and starts going on missions as soon as his sword is ready. On his first mission, he happens to take down a really, really impressive demon, and this rookie is suddenly the talk of the Corp (which Giyuu finds kinda unsettling, especially since the Final Selection shame is still fresh).

Sabito is proud of him, really--he just always thought they'd go on that first mission or two together, that's all. Sitting around and healing is making him irritable.

But he eventually does heal and they do eventually go on a bunch of missions together, as well as their own solo missions, as well as missions with Murata. Thanks to how easily Sabito cleared the air after the Final Selection, Murata is very comfortable with both of them and likes hanging out with them. The Sabito-Murata-Giyuu ranking system is an ongoing joke. At least, for Sabito and Murata it's a joke.

Yeah, it is rough to work as hard as Murata does and then have two friends like that. But if anyone can handle that and not feel his masculinity threatened, it's Murata.

And like, Murata's cultivator had to have known of Urokodaki. Maybe he even had a huge inferiority complex. Maybe Murata's cultivator has a dark and petty side, somehow taking satisfaction that at least he could train students to survive the Final Selection whereas for so many years, Urokodaki never could. That would be a very interesting angle to explore, especially for what it might say about Murata recognizing that darkness in a man he respects so much, but choosing not to carry that darkness himself. But this is a light and fun and stupid fix-it AU, there is no room for that here.

Sabito and Giyuu often train together, with Sabito never ever going easy on Giyuu, but Giyuu always seemingly effortlessly able to keep up. Sabito, recognizing that Murata is frustrated with his own limits, offers to train with him too. It is quickly apparent that the series of whacks is getting Murata nowhere, and Murata knows it, but he doesn't give up. This is why Sabito has a lot of respect for Murata. He's a man.

He's also easy to tease.

Sabito is shocked--he had no idea Giyuu was ever so close to attaining that, or how quickly Giyuu rose in the first place (Sabito of course has risen almost as quickly).

Giyuu is bashful and awkward about it, since he knows how much of a surprise it will probably come as. After all, he more or less kept his position a secret all this time. He kind of expects Sabito to be mad. Also, Giyuu believes from the very core of his being that had Sabito not injured his arms and they started going on missions at the very same time, Sabito would absolutely be the one in the Water Hashira position. Another reason that Giyuu expects Sabito to be mad.

Sabito is surprised, yes, but he wasn't exactly... mad. He's proud of Giyuu, but kind of hurt that Giyuu was so shifty about it. But anyway, he tries to congratulate Giyuu, but since Giyuu is acting like Sabito should be mad, well, it makes Sabito mad. A Hashira shouldn't be all mopey like that!

Anyway, Murata is aware of all this, he finds this breakdown of communication super awkward. He somewhat friendly, somewhat formally offers Giyuu congratulations, but then tends to hang out a bit more with Sabito (easy to hang out with a fellow non-Hashira, after all). He wants to make sure Sabito is alright (since a part of him wonders if Sabito is mad about Giyuu attaining that rank instead of him), and this provides Sabito the man-to-man opportunity to talk about his feelings and why this all feels so surprising, and kind of strange. Murata gets Sabito's side of the story about them becoming friends and training together on Mt. Sagiri, and how Sabito always felt he had to look out for Giyuu, and like he was the older/stronger/more willful/manlier one in the relationship. At some level, he always wanted to protect Giyuu, not be protected by him. (They have totally watched each other's back plenty in battle by this point.)

Murata hears Sabito out, but makes sure to push him to work things out so that he and Giyuu can be back on friendly terms. They have an important friendship--and Sabito must treasure it, for those sorts of friendships don't last long in this Corp. Plus, he's certain that Giyuu treasures it too.

Giyuu, all by himself (typical Water Hashira behavior), is really bothered by the distance he caused between himself and Sabito, and he really wants to bridge the gap. He finally gets an idea.

Giyuu had been admiring how nice it was for Kanae that she got to keep her sister around all the time for company since she was her Tsuguko, plus, it's a formal way of appointing someone with the skills to be a Hashira, so Giyuu thought that would show his respect for Sabito too. But yeah, there's still the issue of how a Hashira lords over a Tsuguko, so Giyuu totally blames himself for having insulted Sabito like that. So much for their friendship, Giyuu will just embrace being all alone, going along his Hashira duties like nothing else matters, certainly not himself...

...meh, but that doesn't last for long, because Murata helps push them along to talk things out. Giyuu immediately apologizes for having taken the Water Hashira role that rightfully should have been Sabito's. Sabito insists that Giyuu is the right person for the role, and that he has always, always acknowledged Giyuu's talent.

When Giyuu tries to insist his skills are nothing compared to Sabito's strength, Sabito stops him and insists that Water Breath takes many forms. Giyuu's finesse is like a deep, still lake that rises like a tidal wave to swallow enemies whole--it is so far beyond the average Water Breath user's gentle sprinkle of water (Murata is totally hearing all of this and not pleased).

Giyuu takes this chance to explain that he offered the Tsuguko position to Sabito because he already sees him having Hashira caliber and just wanted a reason for them to go on missions together. Sabito gives Giyuu that bittersweet smile, but says that the Tsuguko position would be wasted, for he'd have nothing to learn from Giyuu. His own Water Breath is too different, too thrashing and active to benefit from learning from Giyuu's patient style. Sabito must follow his own path.

Instead, he hopes that Giyuu will instead take great care of Murata, who surely stands to learn a great deal from Giyuu as a Tsuguko. Giyuu doesn't know what to say, but his heart leaps at the realization that he truly is a Hashira, and that even he is capable of raising a true Tsuguko.

Murata is standing beside them, gaping, for no one ever asked him his thoughts about this.

Anyway. Nobody dies. Sabito is miffed about Tanjiro moving through training so quickly with one-on-one attention from Urokodaki that is too loving and gentle so he insists that Tanjiro not go to the Final Selection until he can break the rock (which Urokodaki finds ridiculous, because that was only ever a formality, but hey, Sabito knows a thing or two about surviving the Final Selection so Urokodaki says 'fine' and leaves Tanjiro at the rock for a year). Murata never really gets that much better, but he does benefit from training with Giyuu. They're all friends forever and ever. The end.

[bubblexkitty]

Missing u- c.s

pairing: toxic!chris x obsessive!reader

summary: After finding out Chris cheated on you at a party you had declined to attend, you became overwhelmed with a flood of emotions—one of them being anger. You tried to leave him, but instead, he convinced you to take him back.

warnings: cheating, toxic!chris, angst (?), gaslighting, manipulation,gullible! Reader, fem!reader, obsessive!reader

{a/n: I kinda enjoyed writing and might right a part 2 bc I have it all planned out:) also some of the spelling and grammar might be ass and this might not make sense sorry😿 }

Chris was getting ready in the bathroom, leaving the door wide open as if to remind you he was still there—but how could you forget? The loving yet uncomfortable feeling of his presence, even just being close to you, was enough to keep him in your mind. Especially with every bang on the counter, every clink of him tapping his razor on the sink, trying to shake the hair out of it—even though you’d told him multiple times how hot he looks with stubble. To that, he’d always respond with, “I don’t really care how you feel about it. Other girls don’t like it,” a comment that never failed to unsettle you. Every curse under his breath as he nicked himself with the razor served as yet another reminder that he was still there.

In fact, you might never get rid of him. Not that you minded. You loved Chris. Some people—like your friends and family—would say maybe a little too much. Your friends always hated him, warning you that he was a bad person, but you always ignored them. In fact, every time, you defended him. You thought they were just jealous—jealous that he was yours, jealous that they had no one.

This morning, you both had woken up slightly late, which wasn’t really usual. Of course, Chris wasn’t too happy about it. As soon as he opened his eyes, he made a sly comment, mumbling something about you always messing up his life. You tried to laugh it off, but of course, it stung. I mean, if someone you were head over heels in love with told you that you were basically annoying and a burden in their life, you’d be upset too, right? But you didn’t really mind—he was just joking, after all. And when he did it around your friends, you would always remind them that it’s just his way of showing love.

Chris didn’t seem to remember Tara’s party until you sank back under the covers, trying to cuddle closer to him. His groan echoed through the otherwise empty apartment, startling you enough to shuffle back a little in surprise. He practically jumped out of bed, mumbling something with a small growl in his voice, still groggy from being woken up just a couple of minutes ago. “God, you always gotta make me forget shit! Why don’t you ever remind me, huh?!” he snapped as he walked over to the dresser, angrily yanking it open. Chris always expected you to be his personal calendar, reminding him of every little thing he had coming up, never really caring about what you had going on.

Chris didn’t really want you to go. He was hoping you’d stay behind, not wanting you—his girlfriend—to be around while he tried to flirt with other girls. Chris had cheated on you before, but he told you over and over again that it was “just an accident” and that you were “not enough for him anyway.” Still, you believed him. He had told you with a dark expression and a small smirk that he would never do it again. Of course, he wouldn’t lie about something like that

Snapping back to reality, you answer Chris’s question with furrowed brows. “I’m sick?” you reply in confusion, knowing he was already aware of that.

Chris’s expression shifts as you say it, looking almost relieved that you weren’t going, though he still finds a way to blame you. He lets out a bitter chuckle as he pulls a clean pair of jeans from the drawer. “Fucking figures,” he mumbles—loud enough for you to hear but not loud enough for you to respond.

It broke your heart to hear how angry he was about you not going, but you tried to ignore it, even though it felt like a punch to the gut.

Now, back to the present. As Chris finished up in the bathroom, you suddenly felt yourself drifting off again, the weight of your blanket comforting in a way that Chris rarely ever was.

Over the months you had been dating, you spent the entire time convincing yourself that moments like this—quiet, slow, and sweet mornings—were enough to make up for all the emotional and mental abuse he had put you through. Not to mention the gaslighting and manipulation. But you always reminded yourself that he did it because he loved you. Because he didn’t want you to get hurt.

As your eyes begin to feel heavy, you hear Chris walk out, his steps heavy and deliberate. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple. The smell of his cologne overpowers your nose, but you ignore it, accepting the kiss from Chris, which feels more like a routine than a genuine display of affection.

“Alright, ma… I’mma head out,” he mumbles against your skin. You hum in response. “Mk… love you…” you mumble back, too tired to form proper words. The mix of sickness and exhaustion in your body makes it even harder to stay awake, let alone hold a conversation.

As he was about to walk away, his hand slipped around your throat, his fingers curling tightly around your neck—maybe a little too tightly. “Don’t let anyone into this house until I get back, do you understand?” His voice dropped a couple of octaves, making you shiver softly, but not in a good way. “You’re mine, and you belong to me. And absolutely no one touches what is mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice made you cringe softly, your body freezing and your muscles tensing. But of course, you didn’t argue—because you never argued. Not with Chris, that is. Especially not when he was showing this amount of what you thought was love, even though deep down, you knew it wasn’t true. You knew he didn’t truly love or care for you. But that tiny, foolish part of you couldn’t let go of him. It clung to the affection he gave you, as it always had.

The door unknowingly slams shut, making you flinch. Being left in the silence and loneliness of the room makes you highly uncomfortable. You suck in a shaky breath, trying to convince yourself that his words didn’t bother you at all. That this was love, and it was completely normal.

You didn’t know it yet, but today would be the day he broke your heart—again.

Before you could even process your feelings, exhaustion overtakes you. The countless times you were woken up throughout the morning have left you completely drained, and you slip into unconsciousness almost instantly.

A couple of hours later, you wake up in complete darkness, having been asleep for a while. You sniffle and whine as you sit up, stretching and reaching for your phone, which is still on the charger. Quickly, you type out a text to Chris, wanting to check in on how he’s doing at lthe party. You hit send without hesitation.

you: hey baby! How’s the party going?:))

You smile and close out of the chat, opening Instagram. Noticing that Chris uploaded a story, you tap on it, curiosity getting the best of you. What you see makes your heart pound against your chest. Chris is making out with Tara. At her party. The same party you were invited to but decided to decline.

Seeing the video makes your heart shatter, tears forming in your eyes as your breathing becomes shallow. Shakily, you set your phone down, sitting in silence, unable to believe what you just saw.

Chris was cheating? But—that’s… that’s impossible. Chris loved you; he would never do that. But there it was—the proof. Right on your phone. The 10-second story replayed as you stared down at it, tears now streaming from your eyes. After sitting in silence for what feels like hours, you let out a shaky breath. Anger surges through you as you grab your phone and reply to Chris’s story

you replied to Christopher sturniolos story: your cheating on me?? With TARA???

you: wtf???

you: we’re DONE Chris.

you: don’t fucking talk to me unless your coming over to get your shit.

After a minute or two of sitting and staring at your screen, your heart begins to pound again as you see three little dots, insinuating that he is typing. Your face felt like it was burning, your fist clenched in anger unable to comprehend what was going on right now as you read his message

Chris: alright

‘Alright’?! He can’t be serious. This couldn’t be the same Chris who was showing so much love to you this morning—the one who told you that you were his and his only. The one who ‘protected’ you from hanging around other boys because, according to him, they couldn’t treat you the way he could. You began to think back to all the times you defended him over your friends. Over ykur family. You began to think that..Maybe they were right..?

Maybe he was toxic. But that couldn’t be! He loved you—he told you every day! Sure, he’s cheated before, but it was an accident. But as you begin to think, you feel yourself getting angry again. No… you thought. It’s his fault though… he cheated on me.

Just as you began to think more, you heard keys jingling in the door, making your heart stop and your body freeze.

As the door opens, it reveals Chris standing there with that stupid smirk on his face. The overwhelming smell of alcohol and weed hits you, making it clear he had been drinking and probably blowing all his money on weed too.

“Chris? I told you not to come unless—”

“Unless I’m getting my shit? I know, honey… but I missed you. Come here… I want a hug, ma,” he says, approaching you with his arms open. You push him back, your face still stained with tears from earlier. “Are you serious?! You can’t just cheat on me and expect everything to be fine! This is the second time, Chris! I’m done!”

Your nose wrinkles as you cringe at the overpowering smell of cheap alcohol and the (not-so-cheap) cologne Tara bought him for his birthday.

His smirk drops as he stumbles back from your forceful push, lowering his arms. “Cheating?” he scoffs. “Is that what you think that was?” he asks in disgust. Your eyes widen in disbelief. You couldn’t believe he didn’t think that was cheating. “Yes! I saw the video, Chris! I’m not stupid!” you shout, crossing your arms as tears begin to form in your eyes again.

Chris’s eyes darken, and his jaw clenches. “Don’t blame me! It’s your fault for not going! I—I have needs, you know!” he slurs, his voice rising. You drop your arms in disbelief at his unbelievably stupid words. He was playing the victim? After he cheated on you with your friend?

Your jaw tightens, and you softly say, “Get… get out, Chris…”

He looks at you with wide eyes, sobering up a little. “You don’t mean that, baby… come on, ma… it didn’t mean anything—” “Didn’t mean anything?! You were making out with Tara—my best friend—for who knows how long! I’m tired of you!” you snap back, anger taking over.

“You’re so delusional! She forced herself on me… God, you always want to play the victim! You’re lucky I haven’t left your ass yet!” he scoffs, his voice rising another level.“Go ahead! Leave! I hate you!” you shout back, tears streaming down your face, overwhelmed by a storm of emotions.

“You don’t mean that… it was your fault anyway! You should’ve come! If you were there, I wouldn’t have done that! You’re such a bitch!” he yells, his words cutting deep.

You sniffle your eyes widening as he calls you a bitch but falling victim to his tactics. “Y-your right…I should’ve went it was my fault…” you look down “I’m sorry Chris…please forgive me..” As you fall victim to his gaslighting and manipulation, he smirks, working his ‘magic’ on you again. “I don’t know if I could forgive you…”

Tears continue to fall as you cling to him. “Please, Chris…” He smirks at your desperate tone, fully aware of your obliviousness to his manipulation. “You have to beg for it, princess,” he bites back in a low growl. Your eyes widen as you drop to your knees, wrapping your arms around his legs. “Please… please, I’m sorry! I won’t mess up again…”

“Mhm…” he hums, pretending to think. “I can forgive you this time… but let it happen again, and we’re done. Got it?”

You nod again, less frantically this time, as he pulls you up harshly and drags you to the room, practically throwing you onto the bed. You let out a small whine but quickly stop when he lays down beside you. “I’m sorry, Chris… I promise I won’t do it again,” you apologize, feeling a twinge of pity for yourself. “You fucking better be. You’re lucky I put up with your shit at all,” Chris barks back in mock anger—a tone you believed. But unbeknownst to you, he was delighted. Delighted that you fell victim to his ‘powers,’ knowing he could control you forever and you would always listen.

Your eyes close, and your head feels heavy against the pillow as you try your hardest to stay out of his way, not wanting to piss him off further. Slowly, you begin losing your battle against sleep, muttering a faint, “I love you, Chris…” before exhaustion finally takes over.

How couldn’t you? He loved you, after all. Or so you believed. “I know, ma,” he said, a sly smirk on his face. Although he didn’t love you. He loved how you fell victim to his ways. And he always would.

( Dividers from: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more + @anitalenia )

[suninia]

Who are you?

Zayne x Dawnbreaker MC

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ᴍᴄ'ꜱ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀᴡɴʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ? (Little drabble because I need it for art <3) (MC and reader are implied to be afab) Tags: A n g s t (kinda)

Zayne has always been in control of everything in his life. He’s drunk on the peace of certainty and confidence that he’s able to determine in every calculated step he makes. But you, the disturbance in his smooth tide, the inevitable force that cracks his walls in the sweetest way possible. The addicting poison he’ll willingly taste just as long as you’ll capture him in your embrace.

You were the only person that can make his heart feel unsettled.

"I said, shut it down." 

"I have nothing to lose, lady."

"Yes you do." in a swift motion, you pointed your gun towards the large mechanism right behind the man. The researcher screamed in panic and held on to a lever with the monitors behind him. 

Zayne shouted for your name and ran towards your direction, catching you off guard. But before he can immobilize the researcher with his ice EVOL, he already pulled the lever that activated the machine behind you, emitting a blinding light.

Zayne called for your name and tried to reach for your hand but the mechanism spawned a strong wind current that's pulling you in. Zayne was only a few inches away from your outstretched fingers when your feet reached for a heavy machine and kicked it towards him in an attempt to block the wind's attempt in sucking him in.

But the same couldn't be done for you.

Zayne saw your fear and your weak attempt to reach back for him despite the growing distance. He called for your name and tried pushing the machine in a desperate attempt to reach you, but can only hopelessly watch you slowly disappear within the light. Just as he was able to break free and grab you, the machine flickered and shut down, leaving him to stumble and fall on the hard floor with you who vanished in thin air.

Zayne's heart raced. He called for your name repeatedly as if it'll bring you back to him but it was useless. He got up from the floor to approach the researcher and snatched his shirt. Zayne's hand is trembling, looking at the man with fear and panic in his eyes.

"Turn it on."

"What are you–"

"I said turn the machine on."

The researcher felt Zayne's hand growing cold. He winced in pain. He was always in control and never let his emotions get the better of him, but his heart is unsettled. He doesn't know where you are and any second of time wasted worsens his fears.

"I-I can't—"

"If you can't give her back to me then I'll get her back myself. Turn the machine on."

It wasn't a request, it was a threat that left researcher trembling in fear. He shook his head.

"I do not guarantee it'll bring her bac—"

"Then I will disappear with her. Please. Please turn it on."

He was pleading now, unsure of what to do. He wants to know if you're okay, he doesn't even know what the machine is for but at that moment he is not curious enough to find out. The researcher hesitantly typed something on the monitor before pulling the lever again. The machine made this high pitched noise with zapping noises until light appeared again and started pushing harsh winds. Zayne pulled the researcher down to hide behind the monitors and froze his feet in place so he wouldn't fly away before taking a deep breath and ran towards the light.

He was about to reach inside the field when a harsh light flashed from it. Zayne covered his eyes with both his arms before a loud noise screeched from the machine and something heavy flew towards him which caused him to fall on the floor. Zayne couldn't open his eyes but he felt it, a woman's body. The wind blew stronger, Zayne pushed his body upwards and rolled to be on top of the person to protect them from the wind assuming it was you who managed to make it back until the machine was heard to be losing its power and eventually stopped. Zayne took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, until it did and he immediately checked the person laying under him.

He couldn't muster up words to say. He doesn't know what to make of this. A girl wearing comfortable clothing and messy hair is now unconscious in front of him. A girl who's wearing a frown and visible signs of exhaustion on her eyes. A girl who shares the same face with you... yet feels so different. Zayne took a step back, hands trembling, reaching for the girl's face to move pieces of hair from her face to confirm his suspicions. 

Familiar but strangely... foreign. His jaw clenched.

"Who are you?"

"Thank you."

Zayne nodded and waited for you to finish the glass of water before taking it again and settling it on the table beside the bed. Zayne hasn't said anything when you woke up, only quietly observing you. You were in a state of discomfort, seemingly afraid to even meet his gaze. Or embarrassed? Shy? Intimidated?

He doesn't know what to make of this.

"Let me examine you." He finally spoke and got up to check your state. He gave you instructions to check your heartbeat, your pulse, any signs of injury or internal discomfort. He held your hand to check your fingertips, but it was mostly to assure himself that he's not crazy.

You do indeed feel different. As if the body he conquered and memorized all this time suddenly became unfamiliar to him. But what confuses him the most is your face. You look so much like the person he loves the most. Your moles, the curve of your lips, your eyelashes, the way your cheeks burned. It was all the same. But so... so different!

"Do you have any siblings?" Zayne began. The girl gave a nervous chuckle before waving her hands.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Family? Relatives? Maybe a long lost twin?"

"Only my parents but they died a long time ago."

"Have you checked your ancestry?"

"Uh..."

Zayne sensed her discomfort that made him step back. That's not right. He's not thinking rationally right now and it's making other people uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

"My apologies. I was merely curious."

The girl only let out a small smile before wandering her eyes around the room. He looked outside the window and blankly stared at the bustling city lights. She mouthed something before smiling bitterly, returning her gaze to Zayne.

"How did I get here?" she asked. Zayne shook his head and took a seat on a stool beside her hospital bed.

"You don't have any recollections of what happened?"

"Last time I remember... I was at home playing L—" she swallowed what she was about to say and cleared her throat. "–games..."

"Then you just found yourself here?"

"Yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I’ll do my best to get you back. Until then, stay here and recover.”“I’m okay,” she replied.

“No. Your body is weak so you need to rest.”

“I’m not weak…”

“You don’t eat enough,” he said sternly, which made the girl flinch. She scratched her cheek and chuckled nervously. Zayne sighed and stood up. “I’ll come back later to check on you.”

Just as he was about to leave, the girl spoke.

“I’m sorry that you lost her,” she looked away and nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll find a way back. Afterall, she also can’t live without you.”

Zayne’s eyes widened and turned back to her. She’s now leaning on the pillows with eyes closed, face visibly in peace. He clenched his fist and stepped out of the room, his gaze lingering on you through the glass. The longer his eyes were on you, the stronger the discomfort in his chest grew.

However, he’s not really sure for whom.

[urfavdilemma]

Hii! I hope you are having a good day :)

Do you think you could maybe write something with Smosh cast? Maybe reader playing smosh vs dread with them?

Idk i just recently started this series and I'm obsessed (and a litttle crushing on George, their dm)

Pull at Your Own Risk

Smosh x Reader / George x Reader

Summary: Y/N joins the Smosh crew for a tense round of Smosh vs. Dread and tries to survive both the game and the unexpected attention of their DM.

Warnings: none! just fluff and fun and maybe some flirting :p

Word Count: 635

A/N: Hi anon! thank you sm for the request!! sorry its kinda short, i haven't really watched this series so i had to do a little research and may or may not have consulted chatgpt for some inspo... go easy on me and i hope you enojy!!

divider provided by @anitalenia

You weren’t totally sure how this happened, but somehow you ended up at the table for Smosh vs. Dread—hands sweating, stomach tight, and an unsettling Jenga tower standing between you and survival.

Tommy had given you those big, pleading eyes. Angela hyped you up like you were about to win an award. And honestly? You liked horror stuff. Just… not when it meant relying on your shaky hands and cursed coordination in front of several cameras and George Watsky’s intense, unblinking eye contact.

“Y/N,” George said smoothly, his voice low and just a little too calm, “you can either sneak past the creature… or try to fight it. If you sneak, you’ll have to pull a block.”

You groaned. Everyone else groaned harder. “Don’t do it,” Shayne whispered, dead serious. “That’s how I died last game.”

“Technically, you got eaten by a haunted vending machine,” Damien offered helpfully. “Not helping,” you muttered, staring down the tower like it owed you money. George was grinning—smug, amused, a little evil. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

You leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “I just wanted to scream and hang out. No one told me I’d have to risk public humiliation via tiny wooden rectangles.” Amanda laughed. “You’ll be fine, babe. Just trust your instincts.”

“That’s the problem,” you said. “My instincts suck.”

Still, you reached. Your fingers brushed the block near the top, heart pounding like this was real and not improv horror theater with your chaotic friends. The block was wedged tight. Your hand shook. George didn’t look away—not once. You hated that it made your heart flip a little.

“If I die,” you muttered, “tell my story. Make it sound cool.”

“No promises,” Tommy said. “If you die, I’m telling everyone you tripped on a mop and screamed like a raccoon.”

You laughed, then finally—finally—the block slid free. The tower wobbled. You held your breath. It stayed standing. The whole table erupted in muffled celebration.

“Success,” George said, and even though it was just one word, it made your stomach do something dumb. “You slip past the creature unnoticed… and find a flashlight with one bar of battery.”

“Okay, rude,” you said, laughing.

“I’m being generous.”

As the session went on, your nerves eased. You started to have fun. Really fun. The kind where you’re not even thinking about being filmed or messing up—you’re just reacting, bouncing off everyone’s energy, making increasingly reckless decisions and somehow surviving anyway.

And somewhere in the middle of all the laughter and chaos, you realized George was kind of watching you. Not in a creepy way, just… observant. Impressed, maybe. Or curious. You weren’t about to overthink it.

By the final scene, the monster was closing in. Blood on the walls. Flashlight flickering. Tower swaying. George leaned forward, voice quiet and steady. “One more pull. If you make it… you live.” You didn’t even say anything this time. Just reached. Held your breath. Pulled.

The block slid out clean.

You dropped it on top of the tower like it owed you something and threw your hands up. “Y/N SURVIVES!” Amanda shouted, and you collapsed back in your chair, laughing like you’d just run a mile.

Everyone was cheering, but George just gave you the tiniest smile. Subtle. Sincere. His eyes caught yours for a second longer than necessary. “You’re a natural,” he said, just quiet enough for you to know it was meant for you and no one else.

You raised an eyebrow. “At surviving horror games? Great. I’ll put it on my resume.” He laughed, a little low and surprised. “You should come back for another episode.” You tried not to grin. “Only if you promise not to kill me next time.”

“No promises,” he said, and you hated how much you didn’t mind that answer.

[evagreen-stories]

Mother’s madness | (Aemond x f!lowborn!reader) (2/?)

Summary: Aemond, troubled by his unfruitful marriage and the stress of the war, takes himself a bedslave when he seizes Harrenhal and gets more attached to her than he ever thought possible. Bringing her to the Red Keep after he needs to leave Harrenhal would not go as he hoped it would, especially after the birth of the babes he sired onto her.

Warnings: mentions of violence, light angst (kinda?), canon typical misogyny, canon typical behaviour, dark!aemond, abusive!aemond, forced relationship, forced impregnantion, canon typical classicism, mentions of assault, stockholm syndrom (kind of), obsessive!aemond, non-canon storyline

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< part 1 masterlist part 3 >

When Aemond finally arrived back in the Red Keep he paid the staff and advisors waiting for him at the entrance little mind, waving them off dismissively before making his way towards his precious bedslaves chamber. 

He knew you must've given birth by now and he could not wait a moment longer to find out what happened and how you're faring.

Approaching your chamber with a quick step he took note of the unusual sight of the guard standing opposite of the door, not in front of it as usual, though he did not inquire about it. Instead, his hand fell onto the door handle and he pushed down on it, wanting to make his entrance but instead walking into the wooden door, his forehead connecting to it with a thud.

Stunned, he's standing in front of it for a few moments, blankly staring at the dark wood before starting to slowly press down and rattle on the door handle yet again. 

Nothing. It's not budging. Why on earth is this door locked? A sense of panic washed over him as he keeps rattling the door, all worst case scenarios he could think of filling his head at once. 

With hurried steps a maester approached. He had waited at the entrance for him with the others, wanting to inform him about your peculiar behaviour, but struggling to keep up with the younger man's hurried step when he had brushed past him.

“Wait, my prince!” He finally catches up to Aemond as he stands rattling your door with a confused and frustrated expression.

“What do you want?” He snaps, his voice bitter and sharp. “Why is her door locked? Where is the key?” 

“My prince, I need to talk to you about her. It would be best if we go somewhere quiet.” The maester answers, still out of breath.

Aemond felt a chill run down his spine, this could not be good. “Just tell me now. What has happened to her?” His voice was curt, the way it always was when he’s worried. He wanted to know now, not have it dragged out any longer. 

“I believe it's best we discuss this in your chambers, my prince.” 

He gave the maester a look, his fist clenching at his side as his frustration started to grow into anger. “My chambers then.” He gruntled dismayed before turning and walking towards them. The pair soon arrived and Aemond quickly shut the door behind them.

“Just tell me. What's wrong with her? What has happened to my y/n?” 

“My prince, I'm afraid she has developed some sort of hysteria.” The maester says and sighs, sitting down on a nearby chair. “The birth went well for a twin birth, both babes healthy. She seemed normal the first few days but had soon grown paranoid, not letting any of us handle the babes anymore. She has taken to locking herself into her room at all times.”

“And you have allowed this?” Aemond barks. “You've allowed my y/n to go into hysterics? Did she take any medicine you gave her? Are the babes well?” His tone was accusing, as though this had been completely this maesters fault. 

The idea of his precious bed slave going hysterical all alone in her chambers was deeply unsettling to him.

The old man shakes his head. “She allowed treatment of her body after the birth but never took any of the medicine we tried to give her. She only drinks water and tea, but tea only if the it is served dry and she can brew it herself. I assume it's to inspect the leaves. She insists no guards stand in front of the door, seemingly concerned they will grab her. As for the babes, the last time I saw them when I went in to plead with her, they both looked well. Grown plumb over the weeks she seems to be giving enough milk for the two. She washes and changes them herself. She… She eats and cleans herself too, though she does not look well.”

“How long has it been like this? How long has she kept herself locked away?” He asks angrily. He had been away for months, yes, but she never showed any such behaviour herself. Never once did she show the slightest signs of madness or hysteria before. He cursed the war as his frustration and worry grows in him. 

He should've stayed. He never should have left her alone.

“She seemed to be growing agitated almost immediately after the birth and soon took to locking herself in at night. We were still allowed to handle the babes then but she would always stand right behind us and never leaving them out her sight.  A fortnight or so later she started keeping the door locked at all times and denied anyone to touch them.”

“She is denying anyone to touch them? This is madness!” An anxious knot forms in his stomach as he realises the extent this had reached. “Have any servants been in her room at all?”

“She opens the door for servants when they bring food or come to clean her room or run a bath. However, when she does let anyone into her room, she will have both babes tied to her chest and stand in a far back corner away from them while they work.” 

“She is keeping them bound to her chest? Does she know that they can't spend their whole life glued to her body?” Aemonds mind was reeling at this point. He knew she was simple-minded and uneducated but a child, she was not. She knew better, that he was sure of. 

Something else must be going on, some reason for her madness… 

As his mind keeps reeling the maester speaks up. “I'm afraid she is unfit to raise these babes, my prince. I recommend they be taken from her.” He states matter of factly. 

“No.” Aemond states firmly and quickly. This was a suggestion he hadn't expected at all. This man wants to take these infants from their mother and sees no issue with it? That was a cruelty even he wouldn't commit.

“She has only just given birth. You will not take the babes from their mother, especially not when she's proven herself capable to care for them despite going mad. I will deal with this when I have the time. For now just let her be and don't try to touch my children anymore. Is that clear?”

The maester shakes his head, his voice increasingly firm. “My prince, i don't think this is  right. She needs to be separated from them. There is another thing you should know… they are both boys.Your only sons so far, my prince. You cannot allow them in the grasps of a mad woman.”

For the first time in this conversation he seemed lost for words. The news of the babes being boys shook him to the core. It was a dream come true, of course, though he was so focused on the prospect of having any children strong enough to survive he had forbidden himself to hope for even one son, let alone two.

His only sons - his legacy, his blood.

What his wife had failed to provide him within four years of marriage, his bed slave had given him without issue.

The thought of her now gone mad and denying him access to them was outrageous, yet the maesters' continued attempt to separate them was even more infuriating to him.

She was a mere bed slave to him, flesh to make him happy whenever the mood took him, or so he thought. 

Knowing she was the mother of his only sons stirred both happiness and concern in him. Mad or not, she was his. His to use as he see fit, but also his to protect and care for. His responsibility, she and their sons. 

His sons.

His hands clenched at his sides as he approached the older man with quick steps. “You dare defy my orders?” He grabbed the sleeve of his robe and pulled him up to his feet, dragging him out of the room. “She does as I say and so do you. She will care for these children as she would if she were in her right mind, regardless how long it will take her to recover. I will see her right away.” 

The older man struggles to keep up with him, continuously protesting and objecting to his decision, urging him to take his sons away from her for their own protection.

With each of his words Aemonds rage grows in him. 

Could he not shut up? He said himself that the babes are fine. What's the urgency to take them away?

He finally reaches her chamber. “Open the bloody door.” He barks after knocking several times. Trying hard to push his anger back and not snap at her the second this door opens

You flinch when you hear the loud bangs and his shouts outside the door. Frozen in both fear and excitement it takes a few moments before you rush to put down the book you were reading and hurry to the door, one hand on the babes backs as they snuggle to your chest in the fabric tied around your body, the other hand on the wooden door as you lean against it, trying to hear the voice better and convince yourself it was really him. 

“Aemond? Is that you?”

He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears your voice, a faint smile tugging at his lips at the sound of it. It had always been music to his ears, a balm to his otherwise frantic mind.

“Open the door, y/n.” His voice remains firm. He would not have you play games with him right now, despite his happiness of being reunited with you.

You unlock the door and open it slowly, peeking outside. When you see him, a wave of relief washes over you. 

He was the only one able to save you, you were certain. 

The feeling of relief vanishes when you take note of the maester standing not far behind him.

“Not him.” You demand in a shaky voice, staring at the old man and ignoring Aemond completely.

When he sees you for the first time after so long, his heart flutters. You looked awful, yes, dark circles around your eyes, your face pale and sunken, hair dull and tangled. You looked drained, both your body and mind.

The maester tries to interject and walks closer but is immediately stopped and waved off by Aemond.

“No, not him. Just me.” he assures you, his tone now softened by your appearance and apparent fear. He steps inside when you make way for him, watching as you hastily close and lock the door once again.

When you turn around to face him you see him watching you already, analysing you in great detail. His gaze stops on your chest, trying to catch a glimpse of the tiny babes hidden beneath the fabric.

“You… you're back.” You say after long moments of silence.

“Yes, I'm back. Are they well?” Is the first thing on his mind. He steps closer to you. He wants his sons, yes, but he also wants you. Desperately.

You flinch and step back when he approaches, both hand wrapped protectively around your chest and the babes. Your voice is shaky and eyes glazed over as if you will cry any moment.

“Yes, they are. What did they tell you?”

The sound of your voice, the tremble when you answer him, it's enough to make his heart clench with worry. His hands itch with the urge to reach out and hold you, but he holds back, not wanting to scare you off again.

“They said you aren't well. That you lock yourself in this room at all times.That you haven’t allowed anyone to touch the babes. Tell me that is not true.”

“It is. They don't need to. I  do it well enough.” You stammer.

“You're keeping them away from them - from MY sons.” He says slowly, his voice carrying more anger and a threat this time. He steps forward and you step back again, a sharp stab of pain fills his chest when he sees you cowering away from him yet again.

“Why? I have the right as their father to be able to touch my sons. I won't let anyone keep them from me, not even you. Y/n, let me see my sons.”

You can feel your breath hitch in your throat, your jaw clenching. Hesitating for several moments, you eventually walk around him with great distance, over to the bed where the two cradles stand. 

Undoing the fabric carefully you take Aurelius out first and put him in his bassinet before doing the same with Patroclus. You stand next to them, preparing and folding the fabric for the next use. 

Aemond approaches slowly, his eye wide with wonder as his gaze focuses into the small beds and studying the two tiny humans attentively. They're both awake, looking back up at him with wide, curious eyes while sucking their thumbs, both moving in union and mirroring each other's actions as if they were one.

Your own movements are quick and tense, your eyes wide as you watch him approach your sons. He notices it all and feels his heart grow heavy at the sight of you. 

He had imagined this moment often, before he left and while he was gone, wondering how it'd be when he finally reunites with you and seesyour shared children for the first time. 

Never could he ever have imagined it being this way.

He sighs before turning his attention back to your sons, reaching out towards the nearest one and slowly picking him up. 

Your breath hitches at the sight and you clutch the fabric you're still holding onto in your hands, eyeing him like a hawk as he begins to cradle him on his arm. Aemond reaches out to stroke the white fluff on his son's head gently before taking the tiny hand in his.

Aemond seems lost in thought as he gently rocks the babe in his arms, smiling to himself. He's never been a fond or present father but the sight of his son's hand clutching onto his own finger makes him feel a way he hasn't felt before. A sense of pride swells in him as well as many other emotions he cant understand just now.

“What are their names?”

You calm slightly  when you see Aemond handle your son so calmly and smile widely.

“You're holding Aurelius, the elder, the younger is Patroclus.”

He hums as he leans over the crib and looks back and forth between the two, trying to tell them apart but failing to find any differences.

“I think Patroclus should be in his fathers arms, too.” He says out loud as he watches the younger move around and wave his arms excitedly.

You nod and put aside the fabric before reaching into the cradle to pick up the younger, helping to carefully place him onto Aemonds other arm. 

Aemond smiles down at both of them, rocking them gently from side to side. His sons, his blood, his legacy - so innocent and pure. When his gaze falls onto the fabric you had just put aside he asks you, his voice gentle and soft, “Why do you do that? Tie them to your chest?”

“So they're safe.” You answer quickly. “And they are calmer that way, especially when they're awake. They will fuss otherwise.”

“I see…” He replies carefully, nodding along while his gaze keeps wandering back and forth between the two tiny boys. “And… No one is allowed to touch them? Not even wash them, change them? You want to do it all by yourself?” 

“Yes. Aemond-” You begin before stopping yourself and looking around the room nervously. Noticing two open windows you quickly scurry over to close them. 

I need to tell him. I need to tell him now.

Aemonds brows furrow in confusion as he watches you hurry away to close the windows. That doesn't seem like a normal mother, he thought to himself. Why is she still acting so strangely? She should be delighted that he was back.

“What? What is it?”

Once all windows are closed you rush back to him, worry and fear etched all over your face as you stand in front of him, your bodies mere inches apart while your trembling hands move to grab his arms. Leaning in over the two tiny babes watching your every move you whisper to him as if someone else were in the room. 

“You need to help me, Aemond, please. They… they're trying to steal my sons from me.”

A chill runs down his spine at your words. How in the world did you convince yourself of this? Your fear was real, he could tell that much. Despite being safe in the castle you feared for your sons.

That must be what's driving her into madness. 

“No ones trying to steal your sons, y/n. The maesters are just concerned for their well being with you locking them away like this. Y/n, you must-”

“No!” You object. “No, no! Aemond you don't get it!” You're whisper-yelling at him, moving even closer, your eyes brimming with tears as your voice starts to quiver.

“The maesters, they want to steal them! Ever since they saw they are boys they've been scheming to take them from me! They want to steal them and give them to Floris to pass off as hers, I'm sure of it! I've heard them say it!” 

Your voice breaks as you start to plead with him. “Please, Aemond, you can't let that happen! I'm begging you!”

She really had lost her mind, He thinks to himself, taking a step back from you with both babes still in his arms. Shocked by how adamant and crazed you seem he can only shake his head and sigh deeply. You really believed this, he could tell.

Just when he starts speaking and wants to call you mad, his voice suddenly dies in his throat and he goes quiet. 

His mind wanders back to the maester that stands right outside the door at this very moment. The same one that had been adamant his sons be taken from you. The same one that had dared to defy his order and speak against him of all people several times, trying to stop him from seeing his y/n. Could there be truth to this after all? Maybe she wasn't as mad as he thought she was…

He clears his throat, trying to decide on what to do. He needed to get to the root of all this but not before calming you down. 

“No one will take them from you, y/n. I forbid anyone from doing so. I would kill anyone, maester or servant, before I let that happen.” 

You look at him, breathing heavily from the distress in your mind, studying his expression and eye in hopes of seeing the truth in it. 

Eventually, you swallow dryly and shake your head gently, not believing his words.  

“I will not leave that door unlocked, Aemond. I will not let them steal my sons.”

His face falters slightly at your words and behaviour. You seemed mad with the way you acted and spoke but he could tell the madness was fuelled by real fear. 

He sighs in defeat, understanding he won't get anywhere with this. Not now, at least. All he can do for now is try and support you within the little space of your mind that has not been clouded by fear.

“I understand you worry for your son's well-being but no one will take them away. I promise you this. I swear it to you. But… you need to let someone in. You need help, y/n. You can't do this all alone. You need to rest more.”

“No, Aemond.” You shake your head again. “I can only sleep when they sleep and that door is locked. Only when I know they can’t pry them from my sleeping body.”

The sound of your trembling voice filled with fear was like a dagger to his heart. You were clearly terrified and exhausted. He had to resolve this, find something, anything to make you stop fearing. You are the mother of his sons. You deserve his protection. As your protector, he must find a way to protect you even from your own mind.

“You will sleep. You will eat. And you will stop doing this. I need you to be healthy. Our sons need you to be healthy.” He begins, his voice firm but gentle. 

“I will send all masters away. Not one will be allowed in here unless you allow it. I will have two guards at your door at all times. They will be sworn to me and you. They will not let any maester enter without your permission and they will not take orders from anyone but us two. I will also appoint a handmaid to you. Someone I will select carefully, one that can be trusted. She will also be sworn to you and me only. I will instruct her not to take the boys unless you allow it. But you need to let her in and let her help you, let her take care of you. Will you do that for me? For Aurelius, for Patroclus?”

You stare at him for a long while, mouth opening and closing several times, struggling to make a decision. You had prayed for his safe return and his help daily for weeks on end. Now that he was finally here and trying to help you, you know you should accept it. He was right, after all, but the fears in your mind were too strong to just act like nothing happened. 

“Just… just one.” You accept eventually. “Just her. And… and I will still keep that door locked. But I will let her in. Her and you only.”

A small smile forms on Aemonds lips and he sighs in relief. He had won this small battle at least but it couldn't go on forever like this.

He assures you again while he puts the boys back down into their cradles with your help and pulls you into a tight hug despite your protests. 

He holds you close to his chest and strokes your back gently as he repeats the same promises over and over again before eventually letting go of you reluctantly. 

Bidding you goodbye for now he steps out the door, grumbling dismayed when he hears the door shut and lock as soon as he steps out the door frame. 

He turns to leave but the maester that had been waiting all this time wastes no time, following him and speaking to him with the same urgency as before. “See, she is mad! My prince, you must intervene before something happens”

Aemond stops and turns to look at the man, the anger growing in him with every word. He struggles to hold back his accusations, knowing he can't say too much before he gets the chance to investigate further.

“She is not mad, that I can guarantee you. There is nothing wrong with her. You'd do well to start abiding by my orders and leaving her and my sons alone before I have you punished for your insolence.” 

Its now the maesters turn to grow angry at the prince, though he pushes his emotions aside so as not to risk losing his head, but he still can't stop his objections. His status as the Court maester was always enough to make the nobles and royals cling to his every word like gospel but this young, green prince was challenging his expertise without second thought.

“No prince should have a madwoman have his only sons in her grasp. She must not be allowed to keep them. Who knows, she may harm them, and then what? She must be placed in confinement before she hurts someone!” He demands, his tone firm and cold.

Aemond snaps at him now, approaching him with a quick step and raising a warning finger to him. There definitely was much more to this situation than he first thought, he was sure of it now.

“She is not mad! There is no way she would harm her children! She will be allowed in her chamber with her sons and with all the rest and care she deserves. Door locked and all. Am I understood?”

The older man needs to stand down eventually, leaving the matter be for now. 

He follows the prince along as they wander the long hallways towards the council room, following Aemonds initial summoning of the small council to report all that has happened during his time on the battlefield.

He needs to sit through what feels like hours of discussions with his brother, King Aegon, his mother Alicent and all the other members of the small council before he can finally attempt to make sense of his y/n’s paranoia and fear of the maesters.

< part 1 masterlist part 3 >

[pigeonqueen13]

HolyGhost Married Life + Kids HCs

This is in a Max!Lives universe, shout out to @aliceisaperson

Max does nice shit and plans things for Grace, but does it in such an aggressive way, not to her face, but like, say he’s picking out a ring, he spends 2 hours in that store going “NOT THAT ONE! GODDAMN IT CANT YOU PEOPLE DO ANYTHING RIGHT? SHE NEEDS SILVER DICKWADS!” At all the clerks trying to help him

He brings the same energy to her protests, she secretly thinks it’s sweet he cares, even if it’s too much

She buys him a little silver cross for their anniversary one year

Grace let’s her little crazy evil murderer slip through her nice “good girl” persona sometimes, Max was at first kinda unsettled, but grew to love it (bc he’s also a crazy evil murderer)

Max knows not to cross Grace directly, she’s the worst with punishments, they’re mostly embarrassing

Same with their kids

They have 3 of them, twins named Joyce “Joy” and Jonah, and a daughter named Esther “Essie” (Names are a WIP, give me suggestions/feedback if you want)

All three are model children in front of their mother, and she loves them to bits

They’re all little shits in their own ways though

Joy is a lot like her mom, she’s a notorious tattletale and very stuck up, she has the dirt on everyone, and uses it to blackmail everyone to her advantage

She’s Queen Bee socially, a hyper judgemental bitch to everyone, very Regina George, but also valedictorian and school president

She sucks up to the principal so much, that whenever anyone complains or tries to get her in trouble, nobody believes them

Jonah is more of his Dad’s son, he’s wild as fuck, as suggested by @aliceisaperson, I think he’s the one who does shit like arson, hot wiring and stealing a car, petty theft, and harassment of people on the street

Bc Max is a cop (probably a pretty high ranking one too), Jonah always gets off scott free

Max totally knows about his kids behavior, and he encourages them to no end, he thinks Jonah’s stunts are hilarious and badass, and Joy succeeding him as the top of the social ladder makes him so proud

Around Grace they all act like perfect, god-fearing angels, she genuinely believes her kids can do no wrong (another suggestion by @aliceisaperson) and that anyone who speaks against them is totally lying

Whenever she does catch them doing something bad, she blames it on other people influencing or forcing them to do it, and thinks everyone is trying to lead her babies astray and into the arms of satan

She always punishes their friends and chews out any adults involved

I can see her threatening them to “correct their behavior” and when they don’t, her murdering at least the parents or adults (trying to add in a deadly twist, idk if it works though, again, feedback appreciated)

She’s pretty good about cleaning up and hiding the murders, but gets Max to lie and get the police off her scent if it comes to it

Max is similar, he’s totally protective of his family and kids, he minimizes the he amount of punishment they get for the trouble create and threatens anyone who tries enforce anything

Teachers and principles dread parent teacher conferences and calls home, no parent is the better parent, Grace will chew you out extensively and thoroughly, you’re losing a good hour calling her, and you feel like shit at the end of it, Max is more direct, but he’s loud and violent, he will yell, throw things, and lay hands on anyone, both are terrifying 

Grace leads the local youth group and is the head of the PTA

I think I’ve decided she’s definitely mostly a stay at home parent, who does a lot of activism and church work on the side, like a more politically active Mary from Young Sheldon

Everytime she volunteers at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, she gives out religious pamphlets too 

Essie, the youngest Jagerman kid is less like the twins, she’s quiet, shy, and constantly a worried, nervous wreck

Her mother scared her silly about going to hell and sinning, she follows most of her teachings to the tee

I’m working on a oneshot fanfic rn about her feeling so overwhelmingly guilty and worried about sinning that it straight up starts to make her sick

I imagine she is a lot more of an observer to her family, and thinks their sinning is reprehensible and gonna rub off on her or something, which is deeply ironic 

Only problem with her is that she’s a chronic and compulsive liar, and she’s constantly lying about other kids sinning or things that happened to her

Grace takes everything she says literally, a lot of poor kids have been victim to Essie’s lies and the punishment that follows

Max actually pushes back on a number of Chasity rules, mostly the one about wearing a bathing suit all the time, even he knows that’s a bad idea, they fought for weeks while the twins were toddlers, but he stood strong

I also think Grace and Max fight a lot in general, nothing severe enough to get divorced (something tells me Grace would think that’s a sin) but a lot of little fights

He may be willing to compromise on a lot of crazy Chasity stuff, but Max is finding more limits every day, like with how frequently they read the Bible, what food they buy, and where they go, it’s exhausting

Grace is also very naggy, she’s constantly criticizing and reminding him to do things, same to her kids

Max, while he tends to curb is violent tendencies with his wife and kids, slips up sometimes and yells a little too loud, or throws something at them, he tries to be better than his parents… it’s a learning curve 

Despite there tendencies, all the Jagermen kids stick up for one another and their family, they’re shockingly loyal, Joy and Jonah are really great big siblings to Essie, providing advice and protection

Joy is a member of the church choir and Jonah + Essie volunteer there in various roles

Joy and Jonah date other people behind their mother’s back

All three go to abstinence camp every year, Jonah and Joy are always annoyed, it’s the highlight of Essie’s summer

More info when I make my Lautski kids, and possibly Ruth and Richie’s (NOT TOGETHER), but I imagine they’re close with some of them, I kinda love the idea of maybe Ruth's daughter being Joy’s right hand man, or a Lautski kid being a partner in crime with Essie

Side note: I could also see Pete as a teacher or professor