#i could talk about this part of the fandom for days on end | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 1 year ago

Text

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

9K notes · View notes

cursedcola · 8 months ago

Text

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw (Here) | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits You Steal

Sleep like the Dead (Inherited): Nothing wakes you anymore. Leona is as "selfish" as they come, and has no regard for your schedule. He doesn't feel remorse for soaking up your time in the slightest. Why should he? Other people do it for 90% of the day. Take a load off, the bags under your eyes are unsightly. If he doesn't want to wake up in the morning? You ain't either. It's a done deal. If the building isn't up in flames then don't bother asking. Evidently, prolonged and frequent daytime siestas take their toll on your circadian rhythm. You now need just as - if not more - sleep than Leona. Napping out in public and at the rowdy Savanaclaw Dorm bestowed upon you a disturbance immunity. Ramshackle could be in the middle of a raid and you wouldn't move. Not unless something singed your skin or really did some damage. It's become an actual problem. Crewel is considering a sleep study.

"Oi, herbivore...stop squirming so much. You almost crushed my tail. Hah? Class? You don't need it. Just borrow notes from one of those little friends or make the cat go....fine. Gimmie your homework later. I can teach you a thing or two. That is, if you can handle it." <- Grim can't be trusted on his own? Not Leona's problem. You're half of a student. Half. Not full. Half. There's your loophole now go back to sleep. Yap any more and he'll roll on top of you. Good luck talking with a mouth full of hair.

Perfume (Developed): This comes about in an awkward manner. Beastmen have keen smell. It's a given. Bada bing, bada boom, Leona knows your scent. He could point out the Ramshackle Prefect from a half-mile radius. Now he's never said your scent is unpleasant. Quite the contrary, although the lion would never admit it. The issue here is that your scent acts as a calling card, and Leona is clingy. So you ask Vil for the most popular perfume, potion, cologne - whatever - and start wearing it to mask your scent. At least enough so Leona's de-buffed to a one-fourth mile radius. It doesn't work entirely. No perfume is that strong. It's also an active assault on Leona's nose...but it had to be done. Side note - this was his plan all along. He isn't keen on non-human folk sniffing you out easily. Beastmen, most Mermen, and even select Fae have keen noses. Not that his own scent isn't a deterrent, but some masking perfume is worth the occasional nose-shank if it keeps snickering busybodies off your tail when he isn't around.

"Here. Take this and throw out whatever crap it is you've got on. You want me to say it flat? You reek." <- Take the scent masking balm he's giving and don't shop retail ever again. His nose hairs are literally burning off. The balm costs more than your entire dorm to make, but Leona won't ever admit it. You have an ultimatum. It's either this, or wearing one of his old vests around Savanaclaw. Now unless you want to be twinning with him and Ruggie, do the man a favor and comply.

Hair Ties (Developed): Bless his genetics for that wonderful, silky mane - but he needs to tame it. With how smothering Leona can be, you end up with a mouthful of hair at least twice a day. Man is tall, and he loves using his prefect as a leaning post. Which is cute but he sheds. So your arm is perpetually wrapped with hair-ties 24/7 like a cased sausage, because every time you give him one it disappears. It's on purpose, of course. He also snaps them whenever you aren't paying attention. Spiteful bas-

Biting (Inherited): Biting is a common display of affection in beastfolk culture. Not that Leona ever bothered to tell you this. His little nips (in no small amount) were usually passed off as punishments for being annoying. A lie, naturally. One could say it’s the human equivalent of cute aggression? Yet it has more meaning since it’s reserved for close connections such as family and lover. Although drawing blood or leaving a mark behind is reserved for the latter. You had to learn all this from a textbook, of course. No one in Savanaclaw was going to butt into Leona’s affairs, and Ruggie found your ignorance a funny game to taunt his Housewarden with. You were on your own, on a quest to save your skin. Literally.

Regardless, it’s Leona’s way of affection. Bonus points since he can do it without you knowing why. It’s only natural that you return the favor, playing along whenever he has to hold composure. Acting as if you don’t know and relishing in his micro- reactions. It’s only a matter of time before he figures you out, but it’s so nice to have the upper hand for once.

"That's for showin' up late. Don't like it? Not my problem...yawn if is' so bad, just take my bandanna...Why do you care if it's got Savana colors? Ya spend enough time 'round here, no one's gonna say anything." <- If it really bothered you, he'd stop. King of consent and of reading body language. Otherwise it's a go-go. Also if someone did have a problem with you sporting Savanaclaw colors? He doesn't need to kick their ass. Beastfolk got better hearing than most, and if one of his overhears you getting shit for wearing their dorm's colors then the classic night raven pride will pop out.

Habits He Steals:

Vegetables (Inherited): Leona sticks to meat, cheese, bread, and more meat. Bring on the steak. Bring on the beef. Bring on the deluxe cutlet sandwiches. Savanaclaw's kitchen is the most costly of all the dorms purely for how much Beastmen eat. If Ruggie can guzzle down seven plates in a sitting yet still look like a stick? Imagine a Lion's appetite. No one knows how you managed to get this guy to eat a salad like a true herbivore, but it's a cold day in the Savanaclaw dormitory when Leona's facing down a spinach side-salad on top of his lunch. Meanwhile you're happily munching away at the table, picking random veggies off your own plate to put on his. Each instance accompanied by an agitated twitch of his tale, but the lion's eerily silent. Dire Crowley is right. The Ramshackle Prefect is a Beast Tamer indeed...

"Now I know you didn't just pick at my plate, herbivore. Your luck's running thin...Oi. That's enough. I'll sooner eat one of your limbs than another turnip" <- he, in fact, did eat the turnip. The threat scared his underclassmen so much, that seeing you come around still in one piece the next day earned you a warrior's respect.

Correspondence (Developed): Leona's used to getting a sea of letters from ministers, attendants, and a particular little menace back at the palace. Unless it was an urgent message - he'd let the letters go unchecked after skimming them. Replying always took too much effort, and he'd rather not encourage unexpected visits like during the annual Magiift tournament. That is until you start receiving them as well. Nowhere near the amount Leona deals with - but he'd rather die than have his family telling you things without the ability to intercept. Falena blackmails him into responding to Cheka's letters, or else the little furball is going to use you as a penpal for writing practice. Side Note 2.0 - regardless of Leona's 'cooperative' ways, you still write to the mini lion in 'secret'. He knows but gave up caring.

"Another one? Just toss the damn thing. No - hmph. Give me that. I'll respond, just don't start up the lecture." <- You always manage to find the letters Cheka sends over before Leona can get to them. It clicks that you're a middle-man once they start showing up at Ramshackle instead of his dorm. Leona can't wait too long to respond, otherwise you'll start harping him over how cute the kid's handwriting is or whatever picture he drew. He lets you keep them. Cheka's got his own exhibit on the Ramshackle fridge.

Accommodating (Developed): Leona’s not necessarily a ‘verbal’ communicator, despite his smart mouth that always manages to get the last word. He will not openly lend his aid without a bit of pressing before hand - his pride would never allow it. Take the three days you and Grim stayed in his dorm as an example. Inevitably you earned the right to crash in his room, but there was a roundabout to get there. Mainly for show, since in Savanaclaw things are earned not given. You also weren’t close back then. He wouldn’t go easy on anyone, even if they’re from a different dorm or stranded homeless by some octopunks.

The tides change for you, and only for you. His morals are held high, and his ability to treat a partner well is no exception. There is no glory in being above your supposed equal. Everything is shared. This means Leona’s room is now your room, just as Ramshackle is now partly his. He’s clearing some of his closet out, filling it with your stuff, and doing the same back at your place. Doesn’t even ask and doesn’t give a damn that there are dozens of open rooms. It’s the principle. Sharing a space is letting someone see your most vulnerable being. Not that he’d think you could ever do any significant damage (lies) - but considering he doesn’t want anyone within a five foot radius during his leisure time, Leona giving you open access speaks volumes.

"Hah? So what? It's not like I'm forcin' them into it. Got a problem with how I act? Enlighten me." == Talk about nonchalont. Leona is well aware of the imprint he's left on you. He sees it in the way you talk. The way you think. Not just in the chess matches he makes you sit through over and over. Round after round until you can put him into check. You're confident. You're demanding. You're ripe potential that he got to first before anyone else. You chose him, and no amount of backtalk on your end outshines that you like him enough to mimic his ways. The Ramshackle Prefect’s presence isn't something people can overlook anymore, and Leona is damn proud that he's left a mark.

Habits You Steal:

Extreme Couponing/Haggling (Inherited): If you do not think Ruggie spends his Sunday mornings going through sales ads? You are sorely mistaken. This man is an absolute menace when it comes to hitting the market and squeezing a shop-keep for everything they are worth. Sam fears no creature in all of Twisted Wonderland aside from this particular hyena. Screw fighting blot - grab some popcorn and kick back to observe the game of verbal chess those two engage in every week. It's more entertaining than any battle or show. You will become Ruggie's apprentice. Ain't no partner of his going through life without the ability to haggle. Sam stands no chance.

“Ya get this week’s ad? Good. C’mon over and we’ll get the clippings going. I think I saw somethin’ about a buy-one get-two on those candies ya like. Maybe if your nice enough, I’ll shmooze Sam for a bonus!” <- Ruggie honestly enjoys having a coupon buddy. He makes a show about how you take too long, and that if you don’t wake up early then he won’t stick around! Can’t miss the sale, so he isn’t lying there. Except he does grab what you need on the off chance you do miss the meetup. Side note - he doesn’t just take an apprentice without ulterior motives. This is all in preparation for you to handle the slum markets. If you can’t fight off a few broke students, then you won’t last a day back home.

"Shishishishi" (Inherited): There is no escaping it. For the countless times you've poked fun at his little wheezy laugh - imagine the utter mortification when it came not from him! No no. From you. It's unconscious and in the moment you don't recognize anything wrong. You were only laughing over a won victory against Sam. That new lamp you wanted for your work-desk finally within reach, and 70% off no less! Said conman looks at you with eyes blown wide, because great seven there are two of them now. It takes a moment for self-awareness to hit, but you're too late. Two fuzzy-satellites atop a mop of shaggy blonde curls perk up, and your laugh from before echoes from the original culprit's mouth.

“I heard that! You’re doin’ it wrong. Gotta put more air, Shishishi~” <- Ruggie’s a taunting little turd on a good day. Be prepared. You won’t be living this down. Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it? Next thing is to train ya in the art of sticky fingers - no? Ugh. Fine. Ya Goodie-Goodie.

Hands Up! (Inherited): Ruggie has a very unique way of standing. Hands behind his head, laced together to support his neck. One hip normally supports most of his weight, and he's always in a deep-slouch. Bro doesn’t need to cast ‘Laugh With Me’ for his movements to be mirrored, because you’re already following along without realizing. Leona finds the mimicry unsettling. Take that freaky shit out of his line of sight.

Habits He Steals:

Sharing Food (Developed): This is the inner hyena coming out. Just like in the slums, it's demanded to share amongst your own. He might be a sleaze to other people, but not to you. This also backfires into Ruggie thinking that what's yours is his as well - but that's not the point. He'll plop down next to you at dinner and wordlessly offer up half of his meal. You need more meat on those bones, he'll say if protested. In turn he'll then take half of your dessert. It's a sign of trust, instinctively believing that whatever's on your plate is safe to eat. Yet also shows that he's taken you as one of his - and that's a privilege no one at NRC has. No strings attached because everything you both have is shared. On a side note, you'll never be-rid of Ruggie once this comes to pass.

Shared Wardrobe (Developed): Again with the collective treasure hoard, but with a twist. Ruggie can essentially squeeze into most clothing or modify them to his needs. If it works, then it works. So he'll happily offer up any modified dregs he has for your usage, and in turn he will claim whatever clothes you aren't overly attached to. There is also the matter of scent, of course. Ruggie is the type of person to cut up one of your old pajama shirts and fashion arm-bands, making sure to have one knotted around his bicep at all times. You in turn are welcome to swipe his bandanna at your leisure in place of that tacky uniform tie.

“Hey…you seen my blaz - hah? Uh, nevermind. I’ll go grab somethin’ else. Where’d ya leave the heavier coat Gran sent over. Forget it, I’ll just go check myself” <- The first time you snag one of his oversized blazers or hoodies gets him. It gets him bad. Sharing with Leona was one thing but, c'mon. Warn a guy would ya? You're so lucky he's an opportunist on quick feet, so of course he’ll take the chance to steal something you wear often. Ruggie’s great at brushing off any taunts or quips. Being Leona’s right hand gets him stable back at Savanclaw, but that doesn’t take away years of being the underdog. Whether the other beastfolk stare at him openly brandishing your clothes means little, if anything, he enjoys it. Cause once again the underdog’s got a top prize.

Caffeine Addiction (Inherited): Ruggie spends more time and effort running around than most. His *hobby* is doing part-time work. Those overpriced sugar-loaded drinks never appealed to him because why waste money when powering through is just as effective? Or chugging some ice water? Yet you seemingly always have some sort of caffeine to make it through the hell NRC dishes out, and Ruggie being a mooch is always there to steal at least 1/3 of it. Now he’s trained and gets extremely sluggish around mid-day without a dose. It’s your fault if he falls off his broom during spelldrive practice.

"Wha'cha trying to say with that tone, huh? Think I'm not good enough? 's that it? There're way worse chumps to take after. Way I see it? They're learnin' how to make it in this world, sha ha ah! So thanks!...eh, why're you still here? Shoo already." == Considering rumors never have anything good to say about Ruggie's attitude, he's not dumb enough to take the little 'compliment' as genuine. More like as a backhanded sight towards your relationship. Rugs could care less about what those nobodies have to say. Not like they've got anything he's after, just some busybodies that scurry off with their tail between their legs when things get rough. Even if you catch word of it, Ruggie ain't going to get pissy because they're right. Everything they're saying is right, he is rubbing off on you. He is actively trying to. Life isn't a peach and it's not like he's strong enough to protect you from the hardships. It'll be a big laugh if you pull that righteous crap and try to defend his honor, though. Someone better get it on camera.

Habits You Steal:

Paternal Disappointment (Inherited): There was a time, a simpler time, a Jack-less time...when you were a fool. No. You are one to this day, but it is better tamed under Jack's strict aura of perpetual disappointment. Once on the side of being scolded with Ace and Deuce, you are now the one doing the scolding. You are not fun anymore. There is a stick shoved so far up your ass, and it's now part of your internal organ system. Ace dubs you a traitor, as does Grim. You've gone to the dark side in exchange for the morally sound wolfboy to offer cuddles and the occasional snack. I'm sorry to tell you this dear prefect but you've become....*gasp* the (mom/dad) friend.

“Boring? Who said you were boring?…don’t listen to those jerks. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. They’re just upset that they can’t get away with murder anymore - Uh, not t-that I was jealous or anything! Don't get the wrong idea! . Hmph.” <- Jack doesn’t take offense when others call him names, but he doesn’t like when you’re brought into it. At all. Especially because he used to be jealous how you, Ace, Grim and Deuce were more tight-knit than with any of the other first years. Like a pack. That behavior is childish, and Jack hates that he used to think that way. As if your attention was something he had to fight over. It's not like he wanted the same bond you shared with those three either, that's friendship and he wanted more. By being with you, Jack knew that it was going to put him on a different tier than the others. That's just what happens. Part of him feels guilty that you might be losing face because of him. His reputation isn’t bad, but he does have a resting angry face. Reassure him in turn and Jack will be over the moon. Any happier and his wagging tail can become a makeshift duster for the dorm (Were he on earth, he’d definitely get the nickname ‘tails’. After the sonic character, just to clarify)

Meal Prep (Inherited): This is actually an amazing influence and is wonderful for someone on a tight-schedule. You're not going to be eating high-protein meals every night, neither wasting away in an attempt to chug down pre-workout shakes. That's on Jack and Jack alone. Helping him prep meals is a nice touch and a pleasant evening spent together once a week. You don't become strict with it, but Jack does convince you to at least prepare some of your favorite dishes as snacks/emergency meals. He also constantly shoves energy water and vitamins in your bag. No more cup-noodle or scrap sandwiches on those nights you don't reach the mess hall on time. Now you have balanced meals, and get to flaunt matching containers with your boyfriend. Very cute. Everyone hates both of you.

"Uh...are all those stickers really necessary? I know we agreed on matching boxes but this is a bit...No! I'm not embarrassed! Gah, just keep it to a minimum. Nothing that falls off or sparkles." <- He is flustered beyond compare after every track meet. At first he barely bat an eye, thinking nothing of the orange bento box with chibi-cactus stickers and his name written in bold bubble lettering on top. You decorated it just for him, and if it meant you would carry around a spare meal then that's even more incentive. Yet the smell of fresh food attracts jocks after a meet like nothing else, and the teasing was relentless. It isn't enough to stop him from enjoying his meal, though.

Lint Roller (Developed): Leona sheds, but Jack? He is like owning six full-grown huskies. He apologizes profusely for the shedding, especially since the NRC uniforms are black. You run through lint rollers like Deuce runs through eggs. It isn't Jack's fault, but man. Ramshackle collects both dust and fur bunnies these days.

Habits He Steals:

Piggy-Back(Developed):Jack carries you everywhere. He's normally very patient but when there's a place to be? Well, he wants to get there on time. Jack has a strict bedtime at 10:00pm sharp and so his free hours are scarce. Do you want enough time to enjoy the lakeside as planned? If so, hop on his back so no time is wasted. Jack also pressures you to join him for morning and evening jogs. He refuses to give up his diligence, but also is acutely aware that there is little spare time he can afford you during the week. Either you have to keep up with him, or you're getting used as a makeshift weight and being hauled across campus. Relationships need quality time to grow and this is the perfect excuse to hog your attention for two hours every day. Not that he'd admit it, but the swish of his tail while you chat is enough to tell Jack's enjoying his runs much more than before.

"Are you comfortable? Just let me know if I'm going too quick. I'll try not to jostle you around too much...if you're tired then take a nap. I'll wake you when we're back home." <- He'd prefer if you didn't sleep. It messes with your circadian rhythm, but the whole point of this is to help you relax. Just knowing you're with him is enough to make Jack happy. Rain or shine, no excuses. If it's cold he'll let you use his hair to block out the chill, although he'd never let you out in anything less than the proper gear. Even if he joins Deuce or Vil on occasion - you're his favorite running partner.

Safety (Developed): Jack asks you to text him twice a day. Once in-between class, even though you’ll be spending lunch together, and once before bed at 9:30pm. The morning isn’t needed since he’s your alarm clock. He understands that as a prefect, you don’t have a curfew like the majority of students. Yet he is communicative with concerns about you being outside of Ramshackle late after dark. Even when you were just friends, hearing the story of when A-Deuce hauled you to that abandoned mine in the middle of the night? The blot monster and how close it came to you guys not making it? Magic or not, that would worry anyone with common sense. It doesn’t help that Ramshackle has no security beyond its resident ghosts.

"- and you just went with them? Because the headmaster told you to? Are you insane!?...No. You're right. What's done is done. Just...call me if something like that ever happens again." <- Thank the seven Jack's hair is already white.

Jack never thought he’d care this much about anyone. When your partner is a walking heart-attack, in the best way possible mind you, one just wants some piece of mind.

Covering Ears (Inherited): It's a natural response to cover your ears when frightened. Like when watching a scary movie and you don't want to hear what comes next. Jack covers his ears because they're sensitive, and loud noises can cause a migraine quicker than anything else. Especially when they're sudden. His hearing is more sensitive than most, being a wolf beastman. It's almost on par with Leona's. Yet his first instinct when there is a loud noise is to cover your ears instead of his. Even though you're human, the instinct to protect them takes over. It's also his way of being within arm's reach in case of a threat. You must be scared being in a new place. Jack will never let himself forget that. Nor how brave you are for continuing on regardless.

"What a relief...huh? Nah, I didn't say anything. Isn't there a test coming up in Alchemy next week? Want to hit the books together?" == The type to divert the topic as quick as possible, on the chance that he lets too much slip. Needless to say that Jack is relieved to hear that you're mimicking him on an unconscious level. It means that you trust him. That you respect him and see him as an equal. It's the biggest compliment Jack can ever ask for. If people are automatically associating you together, then it means he's done his job. You're part of his pack - and outsiders can recognize it at first glance. He'll do a good job at hiding how happy it made him, but expect that tail to wag at torpedo speed the next time he sees you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #leona kingscholar #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #this...took a lot longer than i intended #it was hard to pick without going too in detail with who i view as 'yuu' for each character

3K notes · View notes

httpsvgin · 6 months ago

Text

ᯓ “IN YOUR WILDEST

DREAMS.” ۶ৎ

“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell, he’s so bad, but he does it so well.” (TAYLOR SWIFT.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader.

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo.) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. angst. blowjobs. slight age difference. gagging. rough oral sex. violence. blood. slight manipulative in-ho?? (not as bad as it sounds.)

GENRE. smut, slight fluff?

“PART TWO OF ‘SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG’ AS REQUESTED!!!!

(I SUGGEST READING ^ FIRST AS THE PLOT WOULD MATCH UP EASIER FOR YOU!!!

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ the day following yours and in-ho’s small.. ‘interaction’ left you feeling hopeless as you found that he had been avoiding you since the second he left you vulnerable in that bathroom. a million questions spiralled in your head to what possibly could be the reason he was acting so stubborn and hell, did you want your answers. taking matter into your own hands, you cornered in-ho into giving you the answers you want and deserve.. until you found yourself in a rather.. sticky situation?

!!!!AUTHORS NOTE!!!!! . . . in this fanfic i twisted up the story a smudge and basically removed the whole last scene of the rebellion and replaced it with the aftermath of the night games and the players making their way up toward their 4th game just so this story would kinda like make sense bruh??? and on another note the comments left on my last post were so supportive istg my ego is through the roof yall i love it. also, im thinking of writing a story with the love interest being sangwoo cuz hes been my man since day one guys. lmk who u want to see me write about next and thank you so much for all your support!!!!!!!! ᥫ᭡

─────────────

the hours following after the blood bath that erupted amongst the players felt as though they could last a million lifetimes. you watched as the pink covered guards entered the room with those obnoxious boxes, plush and dark with a taunting pink bow on the top just to add another “fuck you” to the players about their power while they scrooped up the bodies of the dead.

blood seemed to be on every surface your eyes could catch, the floor, walls, even the beds as you watched a guard carry a limp body of a woman who’s stomach was mutilated and open for all to see, her eyes fluttered shut to show she probably was attacked in her sleep. you couldn’t help but feel bile rise in the back of your throat at the scene, swallowing the acid back down to your stomach with a trembling lip. how can anyone be so fucking inhumane?

yet while you fought away your vomit, your eyes pinned onto a familiar body who was being carried into a box. nam-yu’s wide, dead eyes felt as though they were following your live ones as they lowered him into the box. instantly your mind snapped to the memory of in-ho puncturing the metal pole in through his heart and feeling his warm, crimson blood drip along down your face before his body collapsed ontop of you. this time, your final view of the man who tried to end your life was left with a hole through his body and his head tilted up to stare at the ceiling as they slid the lid of the box over his body.

and yet the man who saved your life seemed to have removed himself from it completely as he sat in the same corner with gi-hun, jung-bae and the rest of their alliance, his eyes staring at the ground with what looked like guilt but with feeling your eyes on him, he tilted his own to look back at you for a short moment which made your heart rattled against your chest before his attention was quickly yanked away as jung-bae opened his mouth to talk.

so here you sat across the room, feeling like a crumb that was kicked under the carpet, longed to be forgot about. not even an hour ago he was staring up at you from between your legs like you were a prized antique, fragile and precious and made to be cherished. now here he is, running a firm hand through his messy hair, not daring to look in your direction. how man like of him.

biting the flesh from under your finger nails you sat a few bunk beds away from your group while the x’s stayed firm in their side of the room but this time each of the sides were down by far more numbers and looked slightly more frightened than ever before.

“hey. .” a soft voice came and dragged you out of your thoughts as you turned your head at the sound of your name. player 120 looked down at you softly, hands tightly at her side to try not to spook you. “my god, i thought you were dead.” she whispered a little breathlessly as she smiled a sweet smile she knew you needed yet you could tell she was more than thrilled to see your face alive and well.

cho-hyun ji her name was, she was someone you stuck along side with during all of the games you played. she and her group recruited you to be theirs during the second game where you shocked your group with your skill of spinning top. to be honest, despite your angered shape it was more than soothing to see such a kind and comforting face after everything.

“come, sit with us.” slowly and carefully she brought her hand up to settle on your shoulder yet not firmly enough to scare you or pressure you.

your eyes were brought to the group who you found to be staring back at you with a smile, player 222, she held her large belly with one hand yet her other tapped the spot next to her, signalling you to sit. gi-hun, the leader you supposed also offered a kind smile toward your way where as in-ho’s dark eyes stared in way you couldn’t quiet put your tongue on. lust? anger? guilt? who knows, instead you took hyun-ji’s hand and followed her over to the rest of the group and ignored the fiery feeling in your stomach.

“ah-haha! there she is!” jung-bae called out from his seat on the stairs and before you could even respond he pulled you into a tight, suffocating embrace, his plump arms patting your back while he chuckled. “we thought we lost you for a second there!” you laughed kindly at the groups relief of seeing your face again and as jung-bae released his bear grip on you, from over his shoulder you caught eyes with in-ho, a strand of his dark hair fell over his eyes which looked like they darkened in colour at the view of you two, and fuck, did it make your stomach sink.

after your small reunion with the group you finally took your seat inbetween player 222 and gi-hun, who affirmed your nervousness with a warm smile yet you could see the pain from behind his eyes as he quickly returned his attention back toward the conversation jung-bae and his marine friend were bantering about. you guessed they were probably trying to make the best out of a bad situation judging by how deflated and scared most of you seemed.

your mind blurred with whatever conversation was happening amongst your friends and instead your eyes pinned to stare at the pink, square guards that stood at the metal double doors, then stared to in-ho, then back to the guards. what correlation did this man have with them? because hell, theres no way they would’ve opened that door even if you pleaded with your whole life and still they allowed him with you at his side to slide away from death and into heavens gates? it made no sense to you at all. and why was it so easy for him to act as though nothing between you had even happened not even a few hours ago when it was eating you up from the inside not to scream in his face.

maybe im overreacting? you thought. anyone in this room is just as desperate for sex, he probably saw you in that bathroom as a stress reliever, a one ‘night’ stand that he could easily slip away from with no feelings attached? sure, it made sense, but nor did it stop the way you felt towards him and it definitely did not make sense on how easily those guards let him live. this man has power, and nobody else knows about it.

and you were going to find out what is was, even if it costs you your life.

. . . .

“attention all players, the next game will commence shortly. please make your way toward the game hall!” the ai voice called from the several speakers around the room to which everyone began to shakily rise from their spots, making their way to the now opened doors.

“any idea on what the next games could be?” you heard jung-bae ask gi-hun, to which gi-hu replied with a tight shrug, assuring that the games have changed since the last time he played and that it was completely out of his power. gi-hun was kind and definitely did not deserve all that was racking on his shoulders, besides, he was a good man with a good heart.

you stuck behind the crowd, following tightly behind hyun-ji while the rest of your group walked through the doors to where the bright colours of the spiralled hallways illuminated and burnt your eyes. in-ho followed closely behind you, alone, and you could practically feel the way his eyes burnt holes at the back of your head. this was your opportunity.

hyun-ji chatted alongside player 246, making their way hastily up the stairs while you shortened your steps, slowing your legs down down and listening quietly to in-ho behind, who’s steps were beginning to match your pace.

waiting until you were out of sight, you twisted your head around to face in-ho behind you before using all your strength to pull and yank him up against the wall, anger lacing your eyes. even though you were at an advantage, his height still towered over you, like he could swallow you whole as he stared down at you, grinning. you felt vulnerable at how beautiful he looked pinned against a wall, keeping his eyes calm and settled on you, hair messy and scattered along his relaxed features.

“mm, little girl finally found her strength, yeah?” his tone was glazed sweetly like honey with a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue as he took the view of you, knitted eyebrows, hair pulled back into a loose bun as you panted harshly with your hand tight against his chest, trying to keep him still.

“youve been avoiding me.” your chest heaved, staring into his souls with attempted anger yet a slight glisten of lust shimmer behind your eyes. the way you had him pinned reminded you of how he had you in that bathroom, pretty face buried between your legs and eating you out like a man starved of thirst. it sent your thighs to clench just at the thought.

“i have reasons.” his tongue poked on the inside of his cheek, the nerves in his jaw clenched for a moment yet he never broke eye contact or even tried to move out of your grip.

“oh yeah? what reasons, cause i sure as hell know theres something up with you.” you gripped his shirt harder under your shaking hands, yanking his shirt forward in attempt to gain your dominance. he laughed. right in your fucking face, soft and innocent but fuck did it damage your ego.

“reasons that don’t concern you, sweetheart.” the nickname rolled on his tongue in a way that sent butterflies to spiral in the pit of your stomach and your cheeks to flush in a soft pink colour. “now, are we going to do this the nice way, or my way.”

now it was your turn to laugh, cocking an eyebrow and yanking his shirt tighter toward you so his face was inches from yours. “you don’t fucking scare me, in-ho.” you spat, face now laced with seriousness as you stood you firm ground.

“well, so be it.” he shrugged firmly before his hand wrenched around your wrist and yanking it behind your back in a split second. crying out in pain, he shoved your back against him to where your ass pressed firmly against his front while his other hand wrapped around your mouth to muffle your yells. your free arm clawed and slapped against the arm that quietened you yet his strength overpowered yours so easily.

“why’d you have to be so difficult, hm?” his lips were so close to your ear lobe that his hot breath ticked against the plush of your neck.

“fuck you..” you whispered out from a shaky breath, feeling embarrassed at how quickly the tables turned in just a few seconds. then, he chuckled again, but instead this one came out darker.

“as you wish.” he whispered into the crook of your neck before grabbing both your wrists with one hand and used his other to yank the door handle behind him that his back pressed against, shoving you both inside.

the first thing that caught your eye was the long walk way and how nearly every material of the room was covered in gold decor, walls covered in black paint with shelves of whiskey and liquor that probably dated back to centuries ago sat behind a glass case while in the centre sat a large tv half the size of the room. on the screen played footage of the players still walking up the stairs to the game, in front sat a plush, leather couch with a side table that had a half drank glass of bourbon ontop. next to that sat a mask, yet it was different from the one the guards wore and it made your skin tingle.

yet your wondering eyes were stopped in their tracks as in-ho pressed himself tighter against your lower back before leading you forward through the walkway, his breathe tickling softly against your skin.

“you’re shaking.” he spoke against your pulse point in your neck, still pining your wrist behind you as he walked you like a fucking dog toward the plush sofa to where he brought you round to the front. slowly, his long fingers trailed up your body, not once letting his lips leave your skin as he practically inhaled your scent. eventually they landed on your clothed shoulder before he pressed down on it for you to lower yourself down on your knees.

fuck. you tried to swallow the lump that grew in your throat as you sat on your knees in front of him, watching as he man spread out before you, arms resting behind him while he stared down at you with that same fucking smirk that made you clench your legs.

“who are you working fo—“ the words muffled your throat before you were shoved face first into his crotch, feeling his hard erection through the material of his joggers. he rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his trousers and you swore you heard a small, whiny hum from his lips.

“shh.. why don’t you use that pretty mouth of yours for a greater good, hm?” his large palm petted the back of your head, stroking you like you were a soft animal as you swallowed the gathering saliva that gathered anxiously in your mouth. “do me well and ill answer any questions you have for me, sweetheart. deal?”

you nodded your chin up and down as you slowly edged your finger to the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms, pulling them slowly with shaking fingers. feeling your trembling touch, in-ho brought a warm palm to your cheek, thumb running comfortingly over the scar left under your eye as his eyes glistened beautifully under the gold lighting. and shit, you swore you get sticky just at his touch.

“mhm, just like that.” he coed down at you quietly, treating you as precious that if he spoke to loud you would shatter like a piece of glass. being validated by him was a drug you never knew you needed, and hell, were you addicted. cautiously, you began pulling at his clothes again until they were down to his thighs, leaving him in a pair of calvin kline boxer briefs. hot and ironic, judging his rich scent you werent exactly surprised to see them with his large bulge staring back at you.

for a moment, you looked up at him to where he was already staring back down at you, palm still cupping your cheek as he gave a gentle nod of approval before your finger tips brushed at the elastic top of his pants as softly yanking them down. fuck.

his size practically made your mouth gape open slightly, your wide eyes taking in the mouthwatering sight. a baby pink tip beaded and glistened with pre-cum while a pretty vein ran along the side of his cock, starting from his base and traveling the full way to the tip. you gulped at his girth, fantasising at how perfectly he could satisfyingly fill you up against this fucking couch.

“please.” he mumbled, sounding breathless already and slightly needy as he took one hand to gather your soft hair into a ponytail before shoving your head down harshly on his cock, forcing his tip to stab against the back of your throat which made your eyes fill with tears as you choked.

bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around his large girth perfectly while your palms sat firm on either side of his thighs for support. the sounds leaving his mouth were like they were sent from heaven, breathless and desperate, almost enough to make you cum there and then. his fingers interlinked with the roots on your hair, tugging on the strands.

bringing yourself up from his cock, you admired the way it glistened with your saliva as you caught your breath. for a moment, you looked up to capture the view of this man, his head tilted back as his adams apple bobbed in his throat while his eyes wrenched shut. he was fucking beautiful and vulnerable while you sat in between his legs, it made you want to suck him dry until he cried out your name to stop.

gently, you leaned you head back down to his tip, using your tongue to kitten lick around the base to taste the sweetness of his pre-cum. this caused in-ho to grip at your hair painfully, letting out a deep groan at the way you teased his sensitive tip.

“who do you work for?” you whispered against his length and you swore you felt it twitch between your hand as you used one to work at the base of his cock while your tongue remained along his tip, licking long stripes.

“i dont work for nobody.” he grumbled from the couch, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his chest heaving slightly at how beautifully you worked and treated him. “what makes you think i do, hm?”

“during the night those guards just—“ you gripped on the meat of his thigh as he shoved your mouth back down on his cock, making you gag out loudly against him which sent shivers down his spine at the vibration. tears battled behind your eyes at the burning that began to ride in the back of your throat yet his cock continued to thrust harsher and deeper between your lips.

you couldn’t even breathe against him, yet he couldn’t give less of a shit as he continued to shove his dick balls deep in your snappy mouth that got you in this position in the first place. sucking and gagging along his cock felt euphoric for you, even leaving your panties wet with your slick yet you attempted to cross your legs at the uncomfortable, sticky feeling that grew in between them.

squeezing on his thighs, you felt hot tears stream from your cheeks while your mouth battled with the roughness of his thrusts as he fucked your mouth vigorously. soon enough, your knees bucked at the way he twitched in your mouth before his warm cum coated every surface of your mouth, filling you up completely.

“fuck..” he panted harshly, letting go of the grip of hair he held to look down at you with your mouth full of cum. your lips were puffy and pink while your cheeks stained with tears as you swallowed harshly, his taste leaving a sweet tingle on your tongue. then, he took your face in with hand hand, lifting your chin up to look at him as he squeezed both sides of your cheeks between his fingers.

“look at me when i talk to you.” he grunted down at you, fluttering your eyelashes to look at his face with your glossy eyes as you sniffled slightly. taking one hand, he wiped a drip of cum from the crease of your lips before tugging at your hair to open your mouth. sliding his thumb between your lips, you licked of the residue with the warmth of your tongue, then softly he removed it with a short pop.

“you’re a smart girl, yeah? but not smart enough to understand what danger you have put yourself in.” his tone was gentle, yet his words made your heart thump wildly against your chest. the fuck does that mean? you wanted to ask, yet you chewed on your tongue to not do so.

“i dont.. understand?” you almost choked on your words, eyebrows knotting into a thrown as you felt just as clueless as before, yet this time with a slight bit of your dignity stripped judging by the fact you had to suck off a potentially dangerous stranger because you were curious.. well, not just that. but still, he had your mind lopped in confusion thats for sure.

“i don’t expect you to, sweetheart.” he coed, twirling your soft hair between his finger tips while his other still remained on keeping your chin up at him. “but, please, understand this.”

slowly, he lowered his head down toward yours, brushing his thumb along the softness of your bottom lip. in-ho stopped to trace his lips along your ear lobe, nibbling at the soft skin before opening his mouth to whisper upon it. “if anyone even dares to hurt you, i promise ill chop off every single one of their fingers and serve them to you on a silver platter.” he chuckled against your neck, licking a nipping at the skin as he felt you tremble bellow him.

“with their head as dessert.” he growled in your ear, violence and threat slashed on his tongue while he used his spare arm to scoop you up from the plush carpet floor and into the warmth of his lap. “do you understand that?”

“yes.” your bottom lip trembled and eyes widened with the seriousness of his tone, and fuck did he mean every word of it. nor did you hesitate to believe him either, taking your hands to wrap around the back of his neck and rest your chin into the crook of his neck, inhaling the expensive scent he let off.

“thats my girl.”

#squid game #squid game x reader #in ho x reader #hwang in ho #front man x reader #front man #smut #hwang in ho x reader

2K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 5 months ago

Text

Love and Deepspace Men Pining For You

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, angst with a happy ending, love confession, jealousy, kissing, friends to lovers, pining

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Someone needs to take my phone away before I go crazy over these guys. Unless it already happened and I didn't notice.

Zayne is always surrounded by all kinds of attention from women but the only woman he wants the attention of is you. Because he's popular he gets that he might have to be more clear about his intentions with you. It's not just him teasing or being playful when he asks you to those lunch dates, it's not just him wanting to fluster you when he touches your cheek with his fingertips. That is him being completely serious about wanting to date you, wanting to be your boyfriend. You being his girlfriend would make him the happiest man in the world. And if he was your boyfriend he would make sure you never want for anything, he would do anything in his power to make you happy and keep you safe. Kisses would be includes, but they would be more of a bonus to the relationship, a welcome one.

Rafayel feels his whole body flushing when your hands touch. What started as a simple admiration for you has developed into so much more, it's not just about him wanting to be the main subject of his artwork, but the only woman he wants to be his lover. The courtship starts with him painting sceneries that he knows you like and then gifting them to you, they're on small canvases so you can take quite a few of them. Every time he notices you talking to some other guy he gets this adorable pout on his face that he hides by quickly turning on his heel and storming off. Often asks you for what he should draw next, saying how much he values you and your opinion. He's confesses by saying he's always liked painting beautiful things and to him there's no one more beautiful than you.

Xavier thinks over every little thing you do together, carefully combing through your interactions to try and figure out if you like him too. It could be that he's just imagining things and his affections are one-sided. He would hate that of course but his primary goal is to make sure you're safe and happy. As he finds himself thinking more and more of you when he's away he gets scared. Scared that something bad might happen and you won't ever get to find out how he feels about you. Before he's set to leave again he envelopes you in a tight hug, telling you that he will come back for sure, because there's a woman he loves and he will get back to her one way or another. He doesn't kiss you as he leaves, that should be saved for when he comes back, and it is.

Sylus doesn't hold back once you catch his eyes, he saw you and it doesn't matter who saw you before him. He wants you for himself now, he wants to win you over and wants you to only look at him, to only think of him. Very flirty from the beginning and therefore a little hard to read at how genuine he's being with his advances. After a few nights spent together he can't stop thinking about you. Waking up to you is the best part of his day, as is falling asleep next to you. He wants to hold on to those feelings forever, wants to hold onto you forever. Every kiss from you makes his mind go wild in ways he never experianced before. He never expected to fall for you, or that you would return his feelings past the desires you felt for each other, but he did fall, deep and fast and hard, and he's taking you with him.

Caleb has been pining after you for years, before you went your separate ways. You were the only one who kept him going through all these years and now he finally has you back. He doesn't intent to let you go again, or to let any other man have you. The kisses he gives, the touches he makes, the words he speaks leave no room for doubt of his feelings but he also doesn't want to force these feelings onto you. Every day he tells you how much he loves you, hoping that one day he'll hear it back. When he does he honestly thinks he's still dreaming, that you aren't even there, that you were never real, that you can't love the man he is now. But you can, and you do, and just like him you never want to let him go again.

1K notes · View notes

teal-and-crimson · 3 months ago

Text

— treasured map.

SUMMARY: After seeing what has befallen your beloved's back after your late night indulgence you were devastated. He wishes to put your mind at ease. After all, he is still a dragon at soul and dragons love to hoard. Even when it comes to marks you leave.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 8k.

PAIRING: Sylus × fem!reader (afab)

TAGS AND GENERAL CONTENT WARNINGS. MDNI! 18+ explicit sexual content. porn WITH plot, some fluff is here and there too, established relationships, mentions of body marks, hickeys, love bites, bruises, and a lot of back scratches (kitten got claws), unprotected intercourse, AFTERCARE, oral sex (mentioned, both f & m receiving), freaking in the bathroom, a lot of sweet talk, mild choking, biting, brat taming if you squint, sylus is a bit of a switch, no y/n, not proofread.

A/N. first time writing smut. first time writing for l&ds fandom. first time posting my work on here. a lot of firsts, eh? also, english isn't my first language so I implore you to be kind ♡ if this gets anywhere near enough attention to feed my wounded ego I might consider writing something else, even a part 2, because my mind is infected with sylus and I need to express my love in some way. hope you enjoy!

When you were shaken from a peaceful slumber by a sudden feeling of falling, you found yourself tangled in the sheets, the only light source was a night lamp standing to the left of the bed. You couldn’t recall how exactly you ended up dozing off, but you were convinced there was supposed to be a certain someone to envelope you in a snuggle and warm embrace. Where was he anyway?

You reached with your hand to feel for your phone on the nightstand. The blackout curtains blocked sunlight during the day and moonlight during the night. The only way of telling time was with the help of the screen now illuminating your face.

2:06 A.M.

It’s too early for you, but for Sylus it’s the middle of the day. Well, rather, night. Judging by the sound of running water, he left your shared silken sanctuary for a steaming hot shower. You couldn’t blame him. Not after what you two have done earlier that evening.

You showed up at his estate quite late, Luke and Kieran saw you in before waving you good-bye reasoning their departure with a simple “bossman’s business”. Well, of course, what else could it be? But before they could leave, they told you that the boss in question had been waiting for you for quite some time. The revered leader of Onychinus was a patient man, but you decided against testing said patience, at least for today. Running up the stairs, and taking a few turns, you entered his office with a bright smile plastered across your face.

“Oh, kitten, you are here,” Sylus rose from his chair and reached for the record player. The pleasant melody suddenly cut off and a silence fell on the room, soft and quiet.

“Yes, Mephisto was circling outside my apartment, I figured you wanted to see me,” you walked towards him. “Next time, please, just call me and use your words.”

At that Sylus laughed, “Sweetie, I had nothing to do with it. Mephisto is probably still working off his previous code settings, since I haven’t put a new one in yet.”

“You are a terrible liar,” you said and poked him on the nose.

The gesture made the man furrow his brows as he focused his gaze on your outstretched finger.

“You wound me.”

“The twins told me you were expecting me. Admit it,” your finger was now at the level with his chest, pointing, but not touching. “You sent the crow.”

“I told the twins you would be coming in because I got an unrequested report from Mephisto about your whereabouts and figured that you’d notice him. Which you did,” the smug expression on his face made you squint your eyes. “And I also figured you’d think I am asking you to come and see me. Which you also did.”

“Oh, so now you’re calling me predictable,” you threw your hands up in the air and turned on your hill, with your back facing Sylus. “So, this is what I’m here for? To be insulted.”

You couldn’t put a few steps between the two of you before Sylus caught your wrist and spun you back around to face him. As your eyes met all the fight you had in your chest seemed to evaporate. The crimson gems now looking at you were piercing through your very heart, making the blood rush to your cheeks.

“I would never insult you, my darling,” he said in the most sincere and sweet voice you ever heard him use. “I’m glad you came. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, there’s been a lot to deal with at work. The reports just do not seem to end,” you chuckled looking up at him. The position you were in was rather provocative, you would only need to pull at his neck and raise on your toes to reach for the lips you missed so much. But would he want that?

Sylus wanted more than just a kiss, as it turned out. Whatever business he had in his office was long forgotten as he pushed you towards the bed in his room, simultaneously unbuttoning the pants you had on.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, kneeling and tugging the fabric covering your thighs down. “I’ve missed you. You’re cruel for depriving me of your presence for so long.”

“It wasn’t me, there has been a surge of wanderers on the outskirts of the city and they— Ah…”

The searing trail of kisses he left from your navel and lower would have made you fall backwards, had he not pushed at the small of your back with his hand. Evidently, Sylus couldn’t care less about the reasoning for your absence. If only you knew that for the past week, he had been tracking said wanderers himself with Mephisto’s help, just in cases you needed any aid; he would have been there in a minute. Luckily, his girl had it all covered. Just like now, she had the most alluring thing in the world covered with the black silk and lace piece. His nose nudged at your right hip bone before traveling closer towards the centre as he inhaled the maddening scent of you.

“Tell me you missed me, too, kitten,” a plea, made in a growl created by the deepest part of his throat.

You looked down to see one of the hottest sights you laid your eyes upon. The pathetic, almost begging gaze Sylus tried to mask with a smile on his lips pulled a giggle out of your throat. That man looked almost at home with your black panties near his face. Black and red go hand in hand. You weren’t sure how he managed to look so in control yet so pliable at the same time.

“I did miss you,” you raised your leg and let it rest on his right shoulder, a gesture most welcomed by the man at your heels, while your hand travelled to tangle in his hair. “And this.”

You pushed his head against you centre and he obliged almost too eagerly. The fingers of his other hand pulled the fabric to the side and you could swear he hummed when his tongue came into contact with the wetness that had gathered between your folds. You were glad the twins were out for business, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet for long.

The rest of the evening you spent working through every possible way of compensating for all the time you’ve been apart. There wasn’t a single part of your body Sylus left unworshipped and you made sure to return the favour. When you were laying on your stomach, too spent to turn, or lift yourself up, Sylus gathered you in his hands and carried you to the bathroom. There he made sure you relieved your bladder and then he cleaned you up using a warm towel, peppering your exposed skin with feather-like kisses. By the time he was done you were too languid to be standing and the dim lights of his bathroom were almost lulling you to sleep. You didn’t know how exactly you ended up back on the bed, but the sheets felt different, too crisp in comparison to what you felt before, when Sylus was pinning you against them. When you opened your eyes, you noticed the colour was also different and you looked incredulously at the man that cradled you in his arms.

“Didn’t want you to lay on stained linen,” he whispered kissing the top of your head. “Go to sleep, kitten. I’m going to stay right here with you, I promise.”

You didn’t want to question him, not when his firm chest felt so warm and so right under the side of your face. You wrapped your arm around his torso and tangled your legs with his, and just like that all the worries that were building the anxious wall of thoughts in your head throughout the day turned into dust as you let yourself to doze off.

Now, as you hear the sound of water coming to a halt, the bed started seeming too big for you. You tossed and turned until eventually your face was buried in a pillow on the other side. The fabric smelled too much of an expensive detergent and too little of what you actually craved.

“Liar,” you mumbled to yourself and started rolling on the bed in the direction of the bathroom. Near the edge of the bedframe, you noticed there was a silken bathrobe with a belt attached to it. Judging by the size, it was meant for you. As you raised your upper body from the mattress you couldn’t keep a sudden whine slipping from your lips. Your entire body was protesting against anything that involved you getting out of a horizontal position, but your persistence got the upper hand eventually. You slipped yourself into the bathrobe, loosely tying the ends of the belt around your torso and started walking in the direction of the light in adjoined room.

When you walked in you were greeted with the sight of Sylus’ backside clad in nothing but a white fluffy towel, as he was bending over the sink spitting out the remnants of the toothpaste. Crossing your arms you leaned against the doorframe as you took in the absolute eye candy that was now on display.

“A fruit vendor with a bakery business on the side I see,” you thought to yourself as a wicked smile was now sprawling across your face. With a view like that there wasn’t a slither of sleep left in your eyes. You were so mesmerized by the way the towel dipped and curved around his ass you didn’t notice that the man himself was now looking at you in the mirror, smiling as if he were a cat that caught a little mouse.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, straightening up and putting the toothbrush inside the hidden compartment behind the mirror.

“How did you kn—” your teasing response got caught in your throat when your eyes landed on Sylus’ back.

It was red. Screaming, angry, violent red. You uncrossed your arms and straightened yourself. You couldn’t do that? Right? You scratched at him in the heat of the moment but it was only a couple of times, not a hundred! But to counter these arguments the evidence was right in front of you. There wasn’t a single patch of skin on his back that didn’t bear your marks. Everything, from his broad sinewy shoulders down to the small of his back had lines, upon lines, upon lines left by your expressive fingers. You scanned it one more time, noticing there was no blood and a part of your mind calmed down a little. But the other part... Oh, it started eating at your very soul.

You took a step closer; your eyes didn’t leave his back for a second. The sight was so agonizing you couldn’t even blink. You stretched out your hand to trace along these lines but caught yourself before your fingers made contact with his skin.

“Sylus...” you began, your voice quiet, shaky. You could feel your eyes watering but you mentally slapped yourself across the cheek. This wasn’t about you. This was about what you have done to him and you had no right to cry. “I am so... So sorry. This— I never meant... You should have said something! I—”

Suddenly, you no longer saw the reddened skin in front of you, instead you were looking at his chest, but even that wasn’t for long, because he gently pulled you by your chin so you would meet his eyes.

“Stop that,” a command, solid and unyielding, yet spoken with the softest and gentlest of voices. “Don’t you dare.”

It was as if you couldn’t hear him. Words started spilling out like a wildfire after catching a stray spark, “Do they hurt? Why didn’t you stop me? I shouldn’t have... This is bad. So bad. I promise I’ll be more careful, please, forgive—”

You couldn’t finish your plea, because your words were caught by the thing your heart cherished the most — the feeling of his lips on yours. This kiss was brief and to the point, its sole purpose to get you to stop talking and it proved to be effective, because now Sylus finally had a say.

“If you apologize to me one more time, I’ll get mad, and you don’t want to see me in such a state, kitten,” his tone was not one bit teasing. He meant what he said, you could see it in his eyes, so you closed your mouth and just gaped at him. You weren’t scared, but there was a part of you that still felt guilty and Sylus sensed it. He rubbed your chin with his fingers and let his gaze soften, while his eyes followed down your body clad in the bathrobe he left out for you. With a simple hum he maneuvered you to stand in front of the mirror, with him behind you. Droplets of water were clinging to his biceps and neck, and you watched him wrap his hands around your torso as he started fiddling with the silken belt around your waist.

“You are so quick to make assumptions, kitten,” his voice had none of that commanding attitude left, instead it took on a more velvety and sultry quality that made you feel weak in your knees. “Seeing my body marked as yours and immediately jumping to a conclusion that I wouldn’t want it being branded as such?”

His hands undid the belt of the robe and it parted slightly, revealing a thin line of your nude form in the mirror. Sylus bent down and put his head on your left shoulder, his eyes fixed on yours.

“You humour me, darling,” he huffed at your neck and straightened back up. “Let me ask you something.”

His hand turned your head to the side with a gentle push of his fingers against your chin, “Do you want me to apologize for this as well?”

When you were finally able to tear your eyes from his and look at your neck the air inside your lungs got trapped. A crimson red circle nestled itself comfortably between your neck and clavicle, and another one, but smaller, was right under it.

“And this?” Sylus’ hand gripped at the side of your robe that covered your chest and pulled it to the side. The skin of your right breast had a hickey and two distinctive bite marks, and the nipple seemed to be a darker shade than usual. When he bared your chest fully, sliding the robe off your shoulders, you saw a trail of love bites and red marks sprawled in a beautiful map all over your upper body and a shaky breath left your mouth.

“What about this?” Sylus gathered your robe and tugged it down to fall onto the floor, forgotten. He traced the marks on either side of your hips that resembled his fingers in a splatter of maroon hues and then he pulled at your inner thigh, prodding you to open your legs to reveal a bite that was blooming in a ruby red just below your cunt. “Your skin comes to its most tender when we’re away from each other for too long. Should I be begging for your forgiveness for all of this, my darling?”

“No,” the answer came naturally to you and so quick it subconsciously made you question things about yourself. Refusing his apology seemed easier than the act of breathing. Every mark on your body was telling you a story of the lovemaking you experienced with the man you so dearly missed during one of the busiest work weeks of your life. The one above your right nipple was when he uttered the very first proclamation of love that evening and the one above your hip, he gave you after he repeated himself for the fifth time. The bite on your inner thigh came when you were thrashing in his hands while he seemed to be devouring you whole, and by biting he attempted to persuade you to remain still. The traces of his fingers on either side of your hips were given to you when he grasped at your form as he fucked his release into you for the second time in a row, and you could have sworn this is what heaven would feel like if you were destined to see one. If you could frame this and put it on the wall, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Pulling you out of your trance, Sylus kissed you lightly on the shoulder, “Do you get it now? The marks you leave are my most prized possessions at the moment.”

His nose was now buried in your neck, as he breathed in your essence. The way he described it was so close to what you felt inside, but to you... All of the marks he left were just there. Even if they caused you any discomfort, they made you feel at home. The absolute massacre on his back couldn’t come anywhere near this feeling, right?

As if he could sense the formation of bubbling self-loathing thoughts dimming the brightness of this moment Sylus locked his eyes with yours once again.

“Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it, I have no other choice but to prove my stance on the matter,” with that he spun you around and hoisted you up by the hips, making your rear land on a marble table adjoined with the sink. You yelped at the sudden change in positions, but still wrapped your legs around him almost instinctively.

“What are you doing?” your hands remained to either side of your legs while the man caressed your waist and back.

“I’m going to fuck you now and you are going to enjoy every second,” the bluntness of his words caught you off guard. He seemed amused by the way your eyes were blown wide, so he chuckled before continuing.

“I will make you claw at my back again even if it is the last thing I do on this damned planet, kitten. After all, there’s no such thing as too much treasure,” he started kissing your neck and guided your hand from the table to rest on his shoulder. When your fingertips met the hot skin of his back it was like someone emptied a bucket of ice-cold water over your head.

“Sylus, no!” you snatched your hand away from his grasp and put it on his chest, pushing firmly. “Those are too fresh, I don’t want to cause you pain!”

“The only pain I feel right now,” he held your hand and pushed it in the centre of his chest, “is here. The pain of my beloved refusing to ruin me.”

“Sylus, please...”

“Stop worrying and let me make you feel good,” the look in his eyes was full of love and raw unparalleled need. “Will you?”

He pushed himself between your thighs and when you looked down you could see the front of the towel bulging around his crotch. Did he get all riled up this quickly?

“Seeing your body adorned with my marks makes me want to leave even more of them. I just wish you’d return the sentiment,” the words were practically purred against your ear and if you weren’t wet and ready before, you definitely were now. He nuzzled his nose against your hair, inhaling deeply, and then he strayed lower, to the side of you neck that had the most of the marks. Before you could even think about containing your strangled moan it left your mouth in a breathy sensual manner, as he attached his lips to the reddened spot that was already there. As he sucked and nibbled at it, you put the heels of your feet into his back, pulling him flash against your bare cunt.

“Sylus…”

“Yes, dear?” The mark he disturbed was blurring your mind and you had to take a deep breath to focus your eyes on the surroundings.

Oh, also that feigned innocence in his voice made your blood boil. There he stood in all his glory, grinding his hard length against you, making you whine and hunger for more. The towel around his hips was surely ruined with how slick you were. You pushed yourself impossibly close to him and moved your hips, both hands now resting on his chest.

“If there’s something you desire, you need only ask,” he whispered in your ear and you went limp. How does he manage to pull at every possible string to unravel you in the span of a few minutes? This man was out of this world.

“Take this off,” your hand went down his abdomen and tugged at the white cotton cloth.

“Ah, I see, someone’s eager,” Sylus smiled down at you smugly and quickly undid the knot, finally freeing his erect length out of its confines.

“Yes, you are,” with that you wrapped your hand around his girthy hard cock and started leisurely pumping it up and down. The few drops of precum were forming at the very tip and you eagerly used whatever lubrication they provided. Sylus hissed at your little torture and bucked his hips into your hand ever so slightly, before he suddenly let out that rich, delicious laugh.

“As much as I love you doing that, this is not the part of my body I need your hands on now,” he swiftly freed himself from your grasp and started pulling your hand upwards. Your fingers brushed a splatter of white hair that were trailing up to his navel, then his hard abs, then it was his pecs, flexing enticingly and after followed the beautiful curve and dip of his clavicle and neck. And, when your hand reached the back of his shoulder, your body stilled.

“I think my kitten needs something else to focus on,” his hand left yours to stay flat on the top of his shoulder and then he moved his own south, between your bodies pressed tightly against each other. When the tips of his fingers touched your clit you grasped at his shoulder tightly, while your other hand flew to his bicep instead. “So wet for me, good girl.”

Sylus flicked at your bundle of nerves, drawing fast, hard circles around it before dipping his hand lower, allowing himself to sink into your welcoming heat with just a single finger at first. When your walls flattered around him and your head got thrown back, you found yourself pressed into his other hand, as he cradled the back of your head, not letting it come into contact with the cold wall behind.

“Careful there, sweetie,” he murmured as his ring finger joined his middle one in stretching you out. Every thrust of his hand felt like torture, his thumb circled your clit drawing more and more whimpers out of your mouth and Sylus just watched. Drinking in every expression, every emotion, every twitch of your face contorting in pleasure. When he curled his fingers inside you, prodding at that sweet spot, you had to pull every ounce of self-control to not dig your fingernails into his exposed skin. Instead, you dragged your hand into a fist and bit you lip.

“Oh, no, that won’t do,” he lowered his head and bit down on your neck, hard and angry. You wailed in his embrace, walls cramping around his digits as your hips were trying to get more friction than he was providing, but the feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin like a honey comb made your insides tremble.

“Sylus! Sylus, ah, please!”

“Hm,” he raised his head and looked at you through half-lidded eyes incredulously. “What was that, kitten? Do you want me to stop?”

At that you put the hand on the back of his head and pushed it against the other side of your neck, “Again. Do this again.”

“But you were screaming just now, I thought I accidentally hurt you, my sweet,” the sarcasm that was dripping from his voice almost made you snarl. What an arse. You pulled at his head again and crushed his lips into yours. Not wasting any time, you plunged your tongue into his mouth, lapping hungrily, while your hips kept riding his hand. Sylus chuckled against your lips, but complied and engaged in the dance you initiated. The hand he kept behind your head was slowly withdrawn, allowing you to cool against the marble wall, while he grasped at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your hands remained still, caging his neck but not moving, only caressing his soft skin, and Sylus realized that you were still holding onto that wicked idea of restraining your primal urges. This annoyed him to no end, so he started parting his fingers within you, stretching your walls that were so snuggly enveloping him in their warmth. The moan you let out when you felt it almost made him spill right that moment and it took an insane amount of self-control to prevent it. He growled in your neck when his hips twitched, and the head of his cock prodded against your glistening folds. But what actually grounded him in that moment was the sensation of your hand, dragging between his shoulder blades. There. He had you.

Even though it was just the position of your hand and no actual pressure, he knew that you were close to caving in. He just needed to use the right push. He gave your clit a few more circles with his thumb and freed his hand from its warm prison and the disappointed huff you let out was easily the sweetest thing he ever heard.

“You are being mean,” you whined looking up at him, not even realizing that both of your hands were now touching his back.

Sylus raised the hand he was pleasuring you with to his lips and opened his mouth. The way he started slowly sucking at the slender digits put you in a sort of trance. Even if a wanderer burst through a near wall, screaming and wailing, you wouldn’t be able to tear your gaze away from his blissed-out expression as he tasted your wetness on his fingers. This was diabolical, filthy, lewd and so. damn. sexy.

When he was satisfied with the clean appearance of his hand, he freed his mouth and looked down at you hungrily, “I wish you could see yourself right now, sweet thing. You look absolutely ravishing.”

“Ravish me, then,” you called, you voice coming out more needy than you intended.

“Bold kitten. I like that,” he lowered his head and pressed a chaste peck on your lips. “But I need you to promise me something before I comply.”

“Anything,” if he wanted the world, you would give it to him. If he wanted the world to burn, you would char it until nothing but ashes remained.

“Do not,” he looked down and took his cock in one hand, positioning it right at your entrance, “hold yourself,” the tip smeared against your folds, getting coated with a good layer of slick that covered them, “back.”

When he finished the phrase you choked on a sob, eyes wet, and round, and pleading, “I won’t, I promise. Sylus, I need to feel you, please. Please…”

“Alright then,” and finally, finally you felt it, inch by agonizing inch of his hard member entering your greedy pussy. There was no point in containing your moans, not with him. You pressed your forehead against his, seeing his eyes pinned to the sight of your body stretching out to accommodate his girth. That in itself was a work of art for him, your body a perfect fit. When he bottomed out, he felt your hands on his back digging into his skin ever so slightly and in that moment, he swore he could see stars.

“Remember, darling, you promised,” suddenly his hands were on your hips and his eyes were locked with yours. He started pulling his cock out slowly, almost lazily, before slumming his hips back inside with a hard thrust. And still, your hands remained motionless, even when your eyes rolled back in extasy. That wasn’t enough. He needed more. Sylus put his other hand on your breasts, massaging it and making your nipple pebble, then he dipped his head and sucked it into his mouth. Your walls spasmed around his cock and the sensation made him straighten back up to look into your eyes.

“You are so fucking tight, sweetie,” he breathed out heavily. “So fucking good for me.”

“Sylus, please…”

“What is it, my heart?”

“Harder…” was all you could manage to say. The way he was rocking your world with every movement should have left an impression of being “too much” if someone were to look upon the two of you, but in reality, it was hardly enough. The hunger you felt for this man could never be satiated, not even when you felt like his cock was sure to pierce you all the way to your throat.

He laughed, one of your favourite sounds to come from him, second only to that little moan you once heard him letting out when he fucked you from behind.

“Insatiable little thing,” he left your breast alone and pressed the tips of his fingers to your clit instead. The pace he built was brutal, not fast, just brutal. With every thrust he seemed to enter deeper and deeper. “You are not holding up to your end of the deal, my love. I don’t want your nails digging into your palms,” he took one of your hands, tugging it in front of your face. It was true, the hand was clenched in a fist, knuckles white, and it was only then you felt the pain seeping through your skin. Sylus straightened your fingers, his hips not slowing down for a second, and then he placed your hand on his back once again. “Ruin me. Ruin me and I will ruin you.”

You pulled at his head instead and crushed him with your lips. Biting hard, you hungrily sucked on the bottom one as he returned the favour by going for your top lip. He started moving your hips with his hand, letting you fuck yourself on his cock, every vein and ridge made you moan into his mouth. You weren’t kissing him; you were trying to eat this man alive. Merge him with yourself, mould him against your own body so you would never part. He would let you, he would gladly be yours, but at the moment he was quick to figure out the game you were playing. Suddenly, his movements stilled and he tore his lips away from yours. You looked at him, squinting and tugging at his neck once again, but he didn’t budge.

“This is not what I meant,” he exhaled sharply when your walls spasmed around him, urging him to move again, but he persisted, staying still, his dick nestled inside you, torturing you by the lack of motion. “You probably still think that the marks on my back cause me pain. Well, allow me to put your mind at ease, sweetheart. I want to feel it. I want to feel my skin burn every time the fabric of my shirt touches it. I want your marks to sink so deep into my back they never fade away. I need every breath I take to be a reminder of how good I made you feel,” the fervour with which he was saying it made your heart beat faster. “Can you do that for me? Please, darling. Be a good kitten and use,” he pulled himself out of your heat almost entirely, “your,” both of his hands lifted you off the table by your hips, “claws,” and with that last word he quickly hoisted you up and just as quickly he dropped you down on his cock. That new angle alone made the entire room go white; you screamed so loudly it left ringing in your ears.

Instinctively, your hands went to steady yourself on his shoulders and when he dropped you down again you lost your balance and fell on him from above. Your hands slipped, and now you were clinging onto his back like a marionette, whose every string was pulled by the very man who was rearranging your insides with every thrust. Your hands gripped, and ripped, and clawed, the cries coming out of your mouth lost all sense and meaning. You screamed every word that came to mind. Please. Yes. There. More. More. More. And then, there was his name. Oh, his name was the most frequent on your lips. And in return you heard your very own called by the deep and demanding tone. Every time your nails scraped at his skin, he hit the spot inside you a little harder, his pelvis rubbing your clit with more precision, so you indulged him.

The deep red of his back went deeper still, as you clung to the only thing that could ground you right now. As you went all in on the expanse of his back, Sylus groaned and stepped towards the wall. One of his hands left your body. He was insanely strong, as he still managed to fuck you up and down on his cock with just one arm. As he cradled your head once again to ensure you wouldn’t hit your head on the impact, he threw the two of you against the wall.

You scratched his back one more time, and his cock bullied its head against your cervix, now hitting impossibly deep within your quivering walls. Then, you buried one of your hands in his silver locks, pulling on them and making his lips pop with a loud noise while you practically dragged him away from your neck. You knew there would be a new mark blooming when the sun rises.

“Is this what you wanted?” you asked with a ragged breath and another drag of your nails across the plain of his back. His eyes... Oh, these gorgeous red orbs rolled back in ecstasy and you almost came undone by the sheer sight of pleasure contorting his face.

“Ye— Yes...”

Your pussy cramped around his cock involuntarily. You never had a chance to hear him sound this desperate, this needy, this pathetic. Now that was the hottest thing to be heard, you were certain.

“I’ve ruined you, my love,” you placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, not stopping the rolling motion of your hips, as you rubbed yourself against him. “It’s only fair you return the favour.”

He released the back of your head gently, only to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly, as his lips collided with yours in a fervent, searing kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, moving in and out, matching the pace of his hips, swallowing every moan you had to offer. If you thought the pace he set before was brutal, now it just got downright vicious. You were glad you had a break from work, because tomorrow you won’t be able to stand, let alone walk. Sylus lost himself completely, with your hands now under his arms, clawing at the middle of his back and your lips so soft on his own, he felt not like a man, but a sacrifice. A sacrifice to the most divine creatures of all in his world — you.

The hand on your neck travelled down and down, past the valley of your breasts and your navel, to tangle in a splatter of hair you had above your cunt and then he found you clit, stimulating it with a few flicks of his fingers. Your entire body tensed and you tore yourself away from his lips.

“Sylus! Too... Too much, I can’t—”

“Relax, you can handle it, sweetie. Here, bite down on my shoulder,” you didn’t stop to think about his proposal, you just went for it as his hand guided you lower. In the state you were in right now he could have told you to do a handstand and you would oblige. You sank your teeth into his skin and it did help you steady your spinning mind, but the groan that fell from Sylus’ lips went straight down to your soaked cunt. The release that had been building up in your lower stomach for quite some time suddenly erupted, and hot tears fell from your eyes as you felt his hips stutter. Your walls spasmed, and clenched, and begged for him to fill you up, while his cock dragged, and moved, and prayed for them to keep on going. In that silent exchange of pleas, you found yourself limp against his moving form, but still desperately clinging to his body. He kept rubbing your clit to prolong the waves of orgasm that shook you. You dropped your head on his shoulder, one hand in his hair, soothing your man tenderly and the other still on his back.

“I’m close,” he huffed through gritted teeth and you knew it was true, because his thrusts had grown erratic and unpredictable.

“Please, Sylus,” you whispered in his ear. “Please, come inside me. I need to feel you. Now,” you dragged your hand from his left shoulder to the right, leaving a new trail of red lines on his back and that was enough for Sylus to press you flat against the wall as he emptied himself inside your flattering cunt. He was coming for a long time, probably the longest you’ve ever felt him come and it inflated your ego to a whole new level. He filled you so deliciously, the warmth that bloomed inside your stomach made the world around you spin. When he finally stilled, dump forehead pressed against your shoulder, you cooed and kissed him on the temple.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice rasp from all the screams he had pulled out of your sore throat. You felt the mess you made between the two of you, because his release was now dripping from your hole, still stretched around his softened length.

“No, darling, thank you,” he kissed you tenderly on the mouth and brow, before looking deep into your eyes.

You were standing there in each other’s embrace, eyes locked in the soft and quiet exchange of love. You smiled and he licked his lips, looking at you, mesmerized. That was your favourite part of having sex with Sylus. The moments after. In the fading heat of pleasure, the flares of love you shared were almost palpable. When he shifted ever so slightly under you, you winced. Yes, in the fading heat there was also the aftermath of your activities to consider, because your plump and tender folds seemed to be screaming for a break.

Sylus saw the expression on your face and caressed your cheek slowly with a thumb, “I’m going to pull out now, brace yourself on my shoulders and I’ll carry you to a bath.”

You did as he bid you and soon you found yourself seated in a bubbly warm water, while Sylus hugged you from behind, tenderly washing away any sweat and cum that still remained on your body. When he washed between your thighs, he was extremely careful, whispering sweet things into your ear, pulling all of your attention to his words, and not the tingling sensation that gathered there. You were still sore and he couldn’t allow you to seduce him into another round, for your own sake.

“I want to wash your back,” you said after a while. He hummed and pushed you away from him, so he could turn around and kneel in the bath. When you saw his skin, your jaw dropped. Every line, every scratch and every mark screamed ‘mine’ scribbled in your writing. The pang of guilt still remained, nestled deep within your heart, but it wasn’t as loud as when you first entered the bathroom. Now, to counter it there were the sounds Sylus made as he slammed you harder into the wall every time you touched his back, and that little “Yes” that he whimpered… Some day this will be your undoing.

You ran the water from the shower head nearby, cold and soothing, and he murmured something about it feeling nice. You gingerly patted his shoulders, the middle of his back and then lower, as the markings turned light pink. You tried to hold yourself off, but the urge to kiss them was stronger, so you lowered your head attaching your lips to the centre of his back, tenderly.

“Kitten…”

There it was, that smooth voice you would die for.

“Yes, my love?”

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring my work.”

His head snapped to the side as he tried to catch your eyes with his, attempting to find a single hint of lying, but there was none. It was true, the idea of him being in any sort of discomfort because of you still rubbed you the wrong way, but the fact that he himself enjoyed it. This allowed you to enjoy it a tiny bit as well.

The two of you got out of the shower some time later, Sylus wrapped you in a towel and directed you to find another bathrobe in the closet he specifically filled with every possible thing you could have a need to wear. You picked the white nightgown and a robe that was going all the way to your ankles, foregoing the underwear. Who knows, the night is still young.

Sylus came out of the shower completely naked, drying his hair with a towel. As he entered his closet and secured a bathrobe with a belt he walked up to you, a soft smile on his lips, “Are you hungry? It dawned on me I haven’t fed you anything since you stepped into the N109 zone.”

“Well, technically, you did feed me something,” you teased, reminiscing the way he had you on your knees earlier that evening.

A throaty laugh reverberated in a dimly lit room, “That can hardly count as nourishing, sweetie. Come, I’ll cook something for you.”

As you were sitting on a kitchen counter Sylus sliced at vegetables and herbs he planned to add to the meat that was searing on the stainless steal skillet, periodically checking on the water he left to boil for pasta. You hummed the lines of the song that has been stuck in your head for a while…

“Through the cold, I’ll find my way back to you… Oh, please, give me mercy no more…”

Your melodic singing was abruptly cut by a grating assault on the next set of notes, “That’s a kindness you can’t afford…”

You decided to let the singing part slide and instead focused your attention on the line Sylus chimed in with, “You know this song?”

“That’s my favourite one on the album,” the smile on his lips was almost suggestive, as he dropped a box of farfalle into the boiling water.

“You’re kidding!”

“No, he’s not,” two voices cut in. The twins marched into the kitchen with Mephisto flying in after them. The bird landed on a table and cawed loudly.

“He blasts it each time it comes on queue,” Kieran said matter-of-factly.

“Boss, the deal is done.”

“Yeah, we gathered all the intel you required, the papers are in your office.”

“Good,” Sylus tossed the vegetables in for a sauté. “Wash your hands now, the two of you.”

“Oooh! You’re our chef tonight! What’s for dinner?” Luke hopped to Sylus’ side on one foot. Despite the fact that these two were dealing with some dangerous things on the daily, they seemed to be still very childish and carefree; you found it endearing.

Kieran walked up to you and said, “Bossman loves to sing that particular song in the shower. See, the vents go right under my room, so I know what I’m talking about.”

You almost choked on the water you were sipping. Good thing the twins were out for business, because them hearing what you and Sylus had been up to in his shower was the last thing you’d want.

“Ahem, wow, poor you,” you said, setting the glass down.

“Poor? Kitten, he should count himself lucky! I don’t often give off private concerts.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky alright,” Kieran said aloud before adding a strangled whisper only for you to hear, “Lucky to survive.”

“Remind me to cut your allowance in half,” of course Sylus heard that.

“No need, bossman, your voice is my favourite sound to wake up to,” Kieran said it so sweetly you almost believed it yourself.

You stifled a laugh and watched the twins leaving the room, presumably to change and wash their hands. When Sylus served the three of you the dinner, he so attentively prepared, you finally realized how hungry you were. The plate was clean within minutes. When everyone was done with their supper the twins started working on cleaning the kitchen while the two of you watched as Mephisto walked from one end of the table to the other, cawing every so often. When the bird walked up to Sylus he patted its head with his finger.

“Thanks for assistance, buddy, she appeared here according to your meticulous calculations,” he whispered under his breath.

“Hey, I heard that! So you did sent him after all!”

“Guilty as charged,” Sylus laughed, mockingly throwing his hands up in the air. “Are you cross with me, sweetheart? There’s always a way for you to take it out on me.”

His right hand reached across his chest and Sylus patted himself on the back. Your cheeks turned bright red.

“Animal,” you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it, sweetie.”

“Seriously? I thought we gave you enough time,” Luke cried from the side of the sink.

“Don’t eavesdrop!” Kieran hit him on the head with a wooden spoon and the two of you sitting at the table burst out laughing at their banter.

When Sylus and you retreated back to his room you collapsed on the bad exhausted, the soreness between your thighs finally let itself known and you complained loudly.

“I have a few things in mind that could ease the pain,” Sylus suggested cheekily.

“Do any of these things involve your face buried between my legs?” you asked settling yourself comfortably as Sylus spooned you.

“A couple of them do, after all I haven’t had any dessert after such a filling dinner,” he murmured in your ear.

“Sounds tempting but right now I just want to sleep. Don’t leave my side,” the last sentence was a command and it made the man chuckle.

“As you wish. Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?”

“No, I’m free till twenty-fifth,” you mumbled.

“Oh, that means we’ve got the whole week!”

“Yeah, that will get my hole weak,” the words fell from your mouth before you could catch them. Damn the internet and damn those witty comments.

“What was that?” he laughed in your ear and you squirmed.

“Nothing! Go to sleep!”

“Alright, alright. But as soon as we wake up, I’ll start planning a quick getaway for us, just you and me. You deserve a break after all the work they’ve put you through,” he kissed the top of your head. “Sweet dreams, kitten.”

“Good night, my love…” those were the last words you uttered, blissfully content with the feeling of the warm body pressed against yours from behind. The marks on your skin were tingly and hot, but they felt like a map leading to the discovery of your treasured love, whose soft breath was landing on your head every other moment and whose hands were holding you like you were the most important thing in the whole wide world. So, you didn’t mind them. You didn’t mind at all.

A/N p.2.: is sylus a masochist? idk don't ask me. well, he did ask mc to kill him once, just saying.

#love and deepspace #sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus × reader #lnds #sylus smut #lads smut #love and deepspace fic #sylus × mc #qin che #love and deepspace smut #l&ds sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x you #sylus x reader #l&ds #l&ds smut #teal writes for l&ds

462 notes · View notes

deebris · 1 year ago

Text

The Misteryous Visitor 4

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Bruce finally confronts Damian, and hates how tonight's events seemed to turn out just to remind him what a terrible father he is. He felt like he didn't deserve you, and he wanted at all costs to avenge the injustice Talia committed with you two.

Warnings: Family discussion; maternal overprotection; Bruce has psychiatric problems and is mentally unstable, besides being very angry; mentions depression, post-traumatic stress and the like.

Word count: 3.7k

Note: I apologize for taking so long to post the fourth part. I was looking for inspiration to continue in other fandoms. Now I feel engaged again to continue posting

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

"She is not a secret." Damian tried to sound firm, looking Bruce in the eyes to avoid suspicion. But no matter what he did or how long he tried to maintain the lie, his father had already decided what to think about this enigmatic and strange situation.

"Hmm..." He let out a disheartened murmur, and the boy never thought something like this would happen, but he frowned with worry as he saw Bruce pour another drink. It wasn't like his father to act this way.

When Damian first met him in person at ten years old, he could have sworn Bruce and Talia were somewhat enjoying themselves that day, even with the barbs hidden in some exchanged sentences. Or maybe he was mistaken; after all, it had been so long. Perhaps he had preserved a false memory.

"How much have you drunk?" The boy asked with a disdainful voice, trying to hide that he was truly concerned.

"Why have you never talked about her? She is your sister, Damian." Bruce ignored the question but in a kind of silent acknowledgment, he rested the glass on the side table, preventing himself from getting drunk.

"Why are you acting like this? As if it's a big deal." He made a face of confusion. "Why do you care so much about this? She isn't even your problem. I won't stay here being interrogated because of her." Damian got up, taking hurried steps to the front door. He was running away, and he knew it.

"Where are you going?" Bruce stood to follow him, finally showing some kind of emotion beyond stoicism since they had been alone in the room.

"I'm going to wait for my mother outside. And when she appears, I'll come back to fetch Y/n. Then you won't have to see her anymore, ever again." Damian said, and although Bruce didn't know if in the last part his son was referring to you or Talia, he didn't dare ask for the detail.

"Why didn't you ask any of us for help when you found out she was missing? If she is someone so close to you, you could have talked to us." Bruce was speaking in that strange way again, like when he found out Jason was the Red Hood. He was hurt, and as if a whistle had snapped in his mind, Damian understood that his father was like this because of him. It wasn't Talia or how she always ended up causing problems; it was him. "You hid from me that you were still talking to your mother."

"And did I need to inform you that I talk to my mother?" The boy tried to maintain a haughty tone, repressing the urge to shout so that Bruce wouldn't see his conflicting feelings.

The truth is that it hurt to lie like this. It hurt even more to lie to you. Damian didn't show or openly say what he felt; his mother once told him that was weakness, but honestly, now he was disgusted with himself.

"You didn't need to inform me, but you made an effort to hide it!" Bruce didn't shout. His voice was grave, authoritative, and deep down had a tone of betrayal that had twice the impact of a shout. He seemed to reflect on something, and patiently Damian awaited a lamentable outburst, but just as he himself would do, Bruce was avoiding becoming emotional.

"I don't understand why, but you came to live with me and seemed to exclude her from your life because of us. She is your sister and didn't even know I am your father! You sent letters, which I'm sure you hid not just from me but from her too. And she ended up here in the middle of the night like a fugitive. Will you tell me again that all this has no reason?"

"Even if there were a reason, it wouldn't be your business." The young man replied harshly, and once again: it was a lie. It was his business. Seeing Bruce's angry scowl turn into a defeated look made one of his fingers tremble. Realizing only after saying something that what he did was wrong made a panic arise in his chest.

Bruce sat back in the armchair, giving up on the discussion once and for all. He felt so stupid for thinking he was succeeding in freeing his son from the League of Assassins' clutches, that he was doing a good job showing him he didn't need the blind loyalty Talia taught him to have. He feared that Damian would succumb to a villain's life, exactly as Ra's al Ghul wanted Bruce to be: cruel and ruthless.

Talia stirred bad reactions in him, and his sense of justice hammered in his head. How could he simply hand you back into her hands after you came here tonight? That woman was a bad influence on anyone, and it didn't matter if you were her daughter; you were a child. And wasn't that what he did with all his children? Took them from the streets and bad parents?

He wanted to vomit at the idea of allowing you to continue being raised by someone like her, among those people, but if he couldn't even change Damian, what could he do for you? Bruce couldn't force you to stay, but at the same time, he grappled with the internal conflict of corroborating that one day you would become like they. He is Batman, his duty is to protect. He should protect you too.

Bruce rubbed his eyes, feeling an intense headache and he day was already dawning again"Your mother isn't coming, Damian." He asserted, noticing that a long time had passed since they started waiting, getting up to return to his own room.

"You said we had a lot to talk about." Suddenly, the boy felt the need to prolong the conversation, if this could even be considered a conversation. It was as if they would never speak again if he allowed his father to leave.

"We don't anymore." Was cold, and that made the boy swallow hard. Bruce knew he would regret being so harsh, but at that moment, he wasn't thinking straight. The rational part of his brain was being dominated by his impulsive side.

Bruce opened his bedroom door with unusual violence. Lately, these episodes of anger were frequent, perhaps due to interrupted sleep; this damned insomnia was worse than in the last months. Alfred had already suggested he see a psychiatrist, but Bruce was sure he would leave there with a worse diagnosis than expected, so he avoided it as much as possible.

The butler once dared to mention that he might have some type of post-traumatic stress, but Bruce was stubborn and that led to an argument. He was a controlled man, but that day he shouted. The reaction was not unexpected, considering the tension from the chaos Scarecrow was causing in the city at the time, but Alfred was observant and knew the problems went beyond that.

The death of his parents was a delicate subject, and combined with the pressure of being Batman, Alfred saw Bruce become more obsessive, anxious, and even depressed over the years. Fortunately, the emergence of Dick was a break in the sad loneliness for him. And then came Jason, Tim, Damian, and things improved for a while, but the relapses still existed.

Bruce sighed as he admired his bed, wishing he could sleep again, but knowing he wouldn't be able to without taking another dose of pills, which certainly wasn't an option. Then he noticed your coat there. The garment had been left in his room, carefully placed on the arm of the room's couch.

He walked over and picked up the coat, rubbing the soft fabric with melancholy and noting how well-kept the garment was. It would probably be a good idea to return it to you; Would also be an opportunity to check if you were well accommodated.

Cautiously, he walked to the guest wing. Bruce thought he would need to check the rooms one by one to discover where Alfred had placed you, but a beam of light leaking from one of the doors indicated which one. He hesitated to turn the knob; it felt too intrusive. So, he knocked: three soft taps on the wood. He waited a few seconds, but you didn't come to open it, and he gave in to the act of opening it himself.

In slow movements, he leaned to look inside the room, without entering yet and checking if everything was okay. He saw your figure well wrapped in the covers, eyes closed and breathing in a consistent rhythm. You were sleeping, and the light he saw was the bedside lamp.

He entered, doing everything to control his steps, going to a chair to place the coat there. He felt the need to be gentle with the garment for some reason, handling the coat with such care, as if holding you in his hands.

He was envious of how pleasant your sleep seemed, wishing he could sleep like that too. He thought of turning off the lamp, but regretted it when he saw that his act interrupted your sleep. As soon as everything went dark, he heard the rustle of the covers, signaling that you had woken up. You stayed still for a while, staring at the shadow in front of you, knowing someone was there but too embarrassed to ask who it was, until the light was turned back on and you saw Mr. Wayne.

"Sorry, I think I woke you," he said softly, genuinely feeling guilty. "I brought your coat. I left it to dry better; it's still a bit wet," he continued, gesturing towards the chair.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied groggily due to the minutes you spent sleeping. Thinking he would leave, you clasped your hands as if praying and placed them under your cheek on the pillow. A common but funny position.

"Call me just Bruce," he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at your face. He had a question stuck in his throat and thought it would be a good idea to start a conversation. "Are you okay?"

"I am. Thank you for letting me sleep at your house." you answered serenely, and he nodded in agreement. "And you?" You asked back. Bruce blinked, surprised by your question, realizing that your eyes were shining. The truth is he couldn't say how he felt, so he said what anyone would say:

"Yes, I'm okay," he said, more focused on your face, knowing you might be uncomfortable with that but wanting to see you better.

“Can I ask you something?” He seemed anxious, and you waited expectantly in silence, which he took as a yes. “Why did your mother separate you two like that? Why didn’t she tell you anything?”

You stared at a random spot on the mattress, feeling a pang in your chest at the memory. “She did, in a way. Mom doesn’t like you very much, Mr. Wayne. I think that’s why,” you said, looking back at him, seeing him raise his eyebrows in amusement; you corrected yourself with a gasp: “Bruce.”

“Did she speak badly of me to you?” Bruce was curious like a silly child, even though a serious scowl was etched on his face.

“Not exactly about you. Mom and Grandpa hate Batman.” By this point, you had already figured it out. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots between your family and Robin with him after a few minutes of reflection. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Bruce let out a dry laugh, caught off guard. “Yes, it’s me,” he confirmed, and you shifted to sit more upright on the bed, excited.

“Is it true that you killed the Joker?” Your question made Bruce’s scowl turn puzzled. So that was the kind of rumor circulating.

“No, I didn’t kill him. He just... disappeared one day,” the same day Bruce thought he had lost Jason, and although deep down he wanted very much to have done it, he didn’t find it appropriate to admit that to you.

“I’m confused,” your voice became more relaxed, he thought it was due to the casual tone the conversation was taking. “If Damian is Robin now, what happened to the other one? He didn’t die, did he?” You asked the last question in a whisper, fearing it was true.

Bruce laughed at this. He had never thought about how people assumed Robin was a single person all these years. “No, he’s fine. You’d be surprised if I told you five different people have been Robin.”

Your eyes widened, and suddenly you remembered a detail: “There was a girl, wasn’t there? I remember seeing some photos in an old newspaper.”

Bruce was perplexed at how much you seemed to know about him, but in a good way. “Yes, there was a girl. She’s Batgirl now,” when he said that, your smile widened even more. It seemed like you were a secret fan, he would say, since in your own words: "Talia hates him" and Bruce knows she would hardly allow you to have such admiration.

But your smile faded, and that worried him for a moment until you spoke: “I didn’t know that man was Hugo Strange,” you looked at him with regret. “If I had known, I would have caught him for you.”

“Would you?” He asked, doubting you really could.

“Well... I would have tried,” you defended yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Very brave. But it’s good you didn’t do anything,” he said playfully, stopping to think for a moment. “Y/n, what did he tell you?”

He saw you wrinkle your nose in a grimace before answering. “I thought we met by chance. I was walking and saw a man smoking a cigarette on a corner. I was going to walk past, but then he asked if I needed help.”

“Which corner?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t far from home. I was trying to figure out the street on a map I found in the municipal library’s phone book,” you sighed, frustrated at not being able to give the information. “I ignored him, but he followed me. I got scared and started running, but he said he was a cop, so I trusted him.”

“Did he have a police car nearby?”

“He said he was undercover. But I don’t know what that means; I thought it was the same as being off duty.”

“It could mean that too.” Bruce saw your guilty expression, your lip trembling and your hands nervous.

“You don’t need to feel bad for believing him,” his larger hand enveloped both of yours like they were nothing. Were warm, and it was comforting. “I know Damian said horrible things, but he speaks in the heat of the moment.”

“It was not in the heat of the moment... He never just speaks,” your voice dropped so low it was almost inaudible. Your eyes burned, but there were no tears. Crying for your brother would be the last thing you would do again. “What was in the box?”

“What box?” He was confused by your sudden change of subject.

“Didn’t Dick give it to you?” You asked, feeling his hand move away from yours and touch his left pocket. What Dick had given him was a card and not a box. Maybe he had taken what was inside. “I guess he forgot.”

“No. He didn’t forget,” he quickly responded, snapping out of a stupor. A curiosity grew in his chest, a need to know what was in that card.

Bruce fumbled in the pocket where the card still was and pulled it out. He quickly examined the paper, turning it over to check the back for anything. For a long time, his voice was muffled, and Bruce could only hear a buzzing in his ear. It was impossible for those words to have any real meaning. His breathing became loud and shaky, as if he were in the cold, and you were startled to see his eyes blinking frantically.

“Are you okay?” You moved to approach him, seeing moisture suddenly form on his forehead. It was cold sweat.

“How is this possible?” You heard him ask himself, bringing his fingertips to his eyes, rubbing them to make sure he was really seeing. That card had left him unsettled, you realized, and hesitantly, you tried to take it from his hands to remove it from him, but his grip tightened at the feel of your fingers, so tight that it completely crumpled the paper. “Sorry. It’s nothing,” he stammered, seeing that the abrupt movement had scared you.

He got up from the bed, completely oblivious to you or anything else now. He staggered before reaching the door, very disturbed and seeming out of it. Maybe it was you who did something wrong and didn’t realize it?

He didn’t seem fit to walk, so you quickly removed the covers from your legs and went to him, supporting and guiding him to the chair where he had left his coat. He was very heavy, but he was so disoriented that he went limp. He seemed so shaken that he didn’t protest and simply sat there. You stood in front of him for a few seconds, not knowing what else to do to help him.

“Shouldn’t I call someone?” You asked.

“Dick,” he mumbled without looking at you, and that worried. It seemed intentional, as if it was too difficult to face you.

“Where do I find him?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of something, but Damian’s voice on the other side of the door caught his attention:

“Y/n, open the door.” You stood still, recognizing your brother’s voice, until he continued: “Mom is here. She’s going to take you home,” he said as a warning, opening the door after a moment without even asking. “Come on. Why are you standing there like a statue?”

He was perplexed when you didn’t respond, and then he noticed his father sitting beside you in terror.

“Dad?” He approached, kneeling to assess the severity. He was having another episode. Lately, Bruce had only been getting worse every day and still refused to ask for help.

“What happened?” Your brother turned to you, but your face already showed that you had no idea.

Damian tried to place his hand on his shoulder, but Bruce pushed it away aggressively. Your father would never act like this just because of the argument they had before, much less give him a venomous look as he did now, but beneath it all, there was hurt. He had found out about you, somehow.

He should have felt bad about how the news seemed to have been revealed, but he was relieved not to have to lie anymore. At the same time, he regretted choosing to cater to his mother’s whims once again, deceiving his father this way. But the omission had grown so much over the years he spent in the mansion and, after so long, it didn’t matter when he told him, the damage was already done.

Bruce wasn’t in a perfect mental state. He wouldn’t react like this normally, and knowing that, the man felt pathetic in front of the two of you.

“He asked for Dick,” you said to Damian, giving him space to breathe by stepping back.

“Forget Dick,” Bruce replied firmly, surprising. In an instant, he had a fit, and as quickly as he entered this state, he left it. Now, he seemed furious. “Where is she?”

This was a ploy by Talia and Strange. They were planning this together to hit him, a way to weaken him. It could only be that. It was too much of a coincidence Strange had found you just that night; nothing made sense. When had he and Talia gotten involved again after that day that led to Damian? He couldn’t remember and wasn’t good at recalling such old things. Maybe that wasn't even true. It was as if there was a big blank page in his mind.

“Get out,” Talia’s silhouette appeared at the door where she was leaning. Like most times when referring to the children, her voice was imposing, leaving no room for contestation. “Both of you.”

“You were supposed to wait downstairs,” your brother tried to contradict her. Despite everything he did for your mother, unlike you, he was the only one who had the courage to face her.

Her frown deepened at Damian’s defiance, but her stern expression softened at your trembling voice: ‘Mom...’ She sighed and opened her arms to you, casting a challenging look at Bruce, who returned it with an even harsher one, as she wrapped your smaller body than hers in a tight hug.

She knelt to your level, her hands gently brushing your cheeks and hair, noting how frizzy and messy it was. ‘Look at you. Your hair is all disheveled.’ She ran a finger down to your lip, grimacing at the cut there.

‘I’m sorry.’ Although less anxious now that you knew she wasn’t angry, you still regretted disobeying her.

‘My sweet girl,’ she said in a soft, genuinely affectionate voice. She kissed your cheek, casting that same malicious glance at Bruce again, as if provoking him. He felt a wave of nausea seeing her use you as a pawn just to taunt him. ‘Let the adults talk,’ she ordered, standing up and regaining her authoritative tone.

‘I’m staying,’ Damian protested. Leaving his father alone with her in his vulnerable state was a mistake.

‘Go and stay with your sister, Damian,’ Bruce was as harsh as Talia, but unlike her, he was seething with anger.

The boy closed his eyes in frustration but gave in, knowing it was useless to argue. He glanced at you, who had already walked out of the room and into the hallway. Damian was about to follow, but his father’s voice stopped him again:

‘She’s not leaving the house, Damian,’ his firm tone carried the weight of undeniable authority, with bitterness seeping through. The coldness in his voice left no room for warmth; it was distant. Bruce had finally gotten the push he needed. The possibility of you being his daughter gave him a sense of entitlement, and it made Talia’s arrogant expression falter for a moment; she looked apprehensive. ‘Do you understand?’ It was a question directed at both his son and Talia.

‘Yes,’ the young man replied simply, avoiding eye contact with his mother as he left. Damian paused in front of the door before fully departing, and his mother slammed it shut in his face.

He resisted the urge to eavesdrop and turned to look for you in the hallway, but you had vanished.

‘I deserve this,’ he muttered impatiently. You were avoiding him, and Damian couldn’t help but feel irritated at how childish that was. But he was one of the villains here; he was the one who lied, insulted, and rejected you. Realizing this filled him with shame, and unlike the first time, he repeated the words, this time with a tone of regret: ‘Yes, I deserve this.’"

Tag list:

@lafrone @sylum @mileskisser @belowbreadcrumbs @riddle-me-im-sirius

@rafa-the-beautiful @shehrazadekey @fairuzwhat @bedeater @arianapjs

@idonthaveanameforthisacc @azulawayne @nciolisa @lovelywritersgarden

@spideybv28 @faimmm @formula-space @cherry-peach-flavored

@godknows-shetried @randomrosie01 @whatsupstark @paastaboi @m3ntally-unstable

@masterradd-28 @justanormalpersin @6000-fandoms @fennecspage

@homan-oid @fluffy-strawberries @animegirlfromvietnam @tamsyien @ari-sama21

@kataraluvr @boatempollstriper @lokisgoodboy @enjisthings @thereeallink

@lumalesa-kadichizho @fyodorssimp1 @shintax-error @lara20aral @sulatsadark

@notahappystan @nebuluma @thetiredtoad0-0 @tmt-alexis @anuttellaa

@strawberrymangoes @lorastone-000 @starryhiraeth @worldussysblog

@urminebutidontwantyou @herondale-lightworm @nyra-42 @ohnoivefallen

@an-introverted-nishinoyasimp @ellie-x0xo @blkmystery

1K notes · View notes

linkcharacter · 6 months ago

Note

Really like the recent analysis. I know I speak of curly in a more defensive way than most but I generally try to get the point you made across at the end of the day with my analyses on him and his behaviors.

People love to lock analyses around Curly solely based on what he could’ve done as a physical action and have this avoidance to acknowledging the realistic barriers at play when it comes to those solutions. It’s. The game tries to treat the pre-crash section as if they are grounded in social and organizational realities. So the what if he did this questions about the situation always fall short when the real answer is he either couldn’t or it wasn’t an actual viable option. But then when they talk about what he actually did do it’s surrounded by such bad faith interpretations that his actions were completely intentional or still not affected by outside sources. He’s a very much “road to hell is paved with good intentions” character. He cared too much and that’s a big part of his problem.

There’s such a “perfect victim or nothing” mindset in the fandom where people can’t admit that there are no such things as perfect victims but that also shouldn’t mean that even if there were it would absolve them of the mistakes they made. People want to moralize every action of every character that they don’t realize that some actions are done without any specific morale factor. People just do things, like you said. People assumed failed intentions immediately flip the thought process behind them “he meant to do good but bad happened, he must be bad” and that just is not how people work. It’s how perceptions work but only of the observer.

It’s such a sensitive topic because, yes, you are supposed to be frustrated, even mad, at what Curly didn’t do, but you have to acknowledge the fact these were good intentioned acts even if that good intent did jack squat in the end. That his responses are human and it’s supposed to be uncomfortable and hurt that they were realistic faults of his.

He enabled his friend and it ended bad for everyone including him. No one really tries to argue this fact but everyone seems to think it has to be tied to the morale dilemma and not certain human natures and social factors.

This is all to ask, why do you personally lean towards thinking Curly wouldn’t turn Jimmy in? Are you speaking in the short term of realizing how bad he got or long-term/overall? I feel like he could but it would not be easy and no matter the necessity he’d always have this guilt at feeling bad for doing it.

Ah yes Curly the most imperfect human man character.

Yep yep yep absolutely, people love to assign morality onto characters and call them good or bad and diminishing the depth and nuance of Mouthwashing, filling discussions with bad-faith interpretations or speculating on inconcrete understandings of the incomplete, intentionally vague, context. I adore Mouthwashing to no end for having this oppressive suffocating and constant atmosphere surrounding everything in the game. Really shows off that the environment festers, no one well-meaning guy could create a happy ending with individual actions alone because it's all systematic.

To elaborate from your question tho, at the point Curly was in (if Anya wasn't pregnant scenario), definitely no don't think so (would depend on Anya a too on whether or not she would go to the authorities outside). Curly knew Jimmy was a danger, and I do believe that subconsciously Anya's report to him on Jimmy gnaws at him, but not vividly enough. I want to point out a moment where Anya tells him about the pregnancy, he begins asking "Who would you-", then he's nudged by Anya that she told him and he should know who it is, and he does, instantly saying he's known him a long time and will talk to him. That moment of, for a second not connecting that Jimmy is the assaulter responsible just makes me drag my palm across my face for how much of a man (derogatory) Curly acted like for one dialogue line. Like he just 'forgot' for a brief moment that Jimmy harassed Anya prior? Granted, he instantly believes and takes Anya seriously, immediately dropping the search for the gun he was on in that scene, realizing the severity of the situation and of Jimmy. We also don't know what Anya has told him specifically, how long ago it happened, etc. but the 'implications' of the scene make me believe Jimmy's known sexual harassment on the ship slipped Curly's mind due to him being more invested in "the bigger picture" of Jimmy, not latching onto a harmful and a very serious fucking trivia fact about Jimmy because of his perception of who his friend is as a whole (and with his foggy sleep-deprived mind at the moment), 'losing a needle in a haystack' with how much unknown history Curly and Jimmy shared, so to say.

Maaaybe in some other circumstances, like if Jimmy didn't crash the ship or smth long term I could see him doing it, it would take a lot effort like you said, no matter the necessity. We will never know. If we're going into speculation and imaginary scenarios though, if Anya HERSELF were to try and get justice, Curly would be backing her up undoubtedly (still not disconnecting himself from Jimmy though and feeling guilt on his behalf). But that's all suppositions from my reading of the characters.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #i am so enjoying this dude like having a civil discussions is so euphoric fr like man thanks for the thoughts #asks #linkch yaps

586 notes · View notes

lxkeee · 1 year ago

Text

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: semi-angst

notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to

PART TWO | PART THREE

Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.

“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.

Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.

“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.

At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?

Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.

Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.

“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.

“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.

“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.

Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.

Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.

Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel lucifer

3K notes · View notes

axolotl4days · 6 months ago

Text

Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

#batfam x reader #batman #damian wayne #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne #Batman Dead Daughter Au

446 notes · View notes

gguk-n · 10 months ago

Text

Your brother's Oscar Piastri? (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

I've had this idea in my head since I found out Oscar's sister is a K-Pop stan.

{Reader's POV}

Getting tickets to a K-Pop concert got exponentially more difficult as their popularity rose. It took so many attempts and almost losing the hair on my head before I got tickets to the TXT concert in town. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as the confirmation email rolled in.

On the day of the concert, I might have gone all out and dressed up but everyone dresses up for the concert and it was the most exciting day I've had in a while. I love that I get to spend my adult money on stuff I enjoy. At the venue, I got to meet some people I had connected with online and made some new friends.

There was a girl next to me in the seating, who I ended up vibing with. We had a lot of fun as we sang along to all their songs; our voice went hoarse by the end of the night. As we walked out while talking about the concert, "Ugh, my mum won't answer my calls" the girl next to me, who I was introduced to as Hattie groaned. "Is there an issue?" I asked. "My mum's supposed to be my ride back and she won't answer my calls" she whined. "I could drop you" I suggested. "Oh, no. That would be too much to ask for" the girl shook her head to avoid causing any inconvenience . "It'll be fine. We're part of the same fandom so it makes us family" I laughed. She seemed to mull over my suggestion before nodding her head, "OK, but I'll pay for the petrol" she suggested. "Done. Let's go" I said pointing to my car.

The drive to her house was entertaining as we got to know each other better and sang along to the songs. We become concert buddies after that. I didn't really have many friends I could drag along to concerts anymore; having a friend made things much more exciting. She was a joy to have around and we shared the same bias for most groups we liked so it made stuff even more chaotic then they already were.

This went on for a couple more concerts until the latest one where I took the bus to the venue since my car broke down and a non-functioning vehicle was not about to stop me from seeing Enhypen. I met Hattie at the entrance who had been waiting for me. We hugged and grabbed some stuff from the stands outside and walked into the venue. The show was great, the fan service at K-Pop concerts was unmatched.

Hattie knew that my car had broken down and offered to drive me home as a pay back for the favour I had done at the start of our friendship. We were waiting outside for who I assumed was Hattie's mum but instead I was greeted by a tall pale Australian man, I knew more as Oscar Piastri, Formula One driver for McLaren. My jaw almost hit the floor before I caught myself and greeted the man before entering the car. "Hi, I'm Y/N." I said while climbing into the back seat while Hattie sat shot gun. "Hey, I'm Oscar" he said giving me a smile before he started the car.

Hattie kept looking back at me every time I sent a message. As soon as she read the last message, "Oscar, Y/N loves you" she laughed. Man, I hate the friends I have sometimes, I thought. Before my mind could react my body did, "No" I shouted. Oscar turned around to look at me, "no?" he asked. "I mean yes" I stammered. "yes?" he quizzed. "I mean, I love Formula One and since you're a Formula One driver that's why I asked her to ask if could get your autograph" I rambled. If the earth swallowed me whole, I don't think I would mind right now. I could hear Hattie snickering in the background.

The rest of the car ride had me sweating. Oscar dropped me off in front of my building; I bolted out of the door. "Don't you want that autograph?" Oscar shouted. I stopped dead in my tracks with slumped shoulders; if I'm going to embarrass myself, let's leave no stone unturned at this point. "Yeah, sure. I have some merch in my house you could sign" I mumbled walking back to the car. "Maybe you would like to join me for some tea" I offered. Hattie nodded along from inside the car and the three of us headed up. My house, I must've forgotten was not clean enough to be seen by anyone but me; I had to literally stop them, throw everything in the nearest closet and then open the door. I ran a kettle for hot water and asked them to sit on the sofa while I grabbed the Oscar Piastri hat and shirt I had bought recently. He graciously signed it for me and I handed them the cup of tea. "Your house is lovely" Hattie commented while looking around, "I don't see any of the albums or merch" she continued. "they're in my room" I said. "Must be fun explaining to the guys who come over" she spoke more to herself. "It's hilarious watching their reaction" Hattie added at Oscar's quizzical expression. "If you guys are done, would it be harsh to ask you to leave, I have an early shift tomorrow" I asked nervously. "No, thank you for the tea. We'll be leaving" Oscar said while lifting Hattie up. "I'm not leaving yet. I haven't seen your room" Hattie whined trying to get free from Oscar. "You know where she lives, come over at a more acceptable time." Oscar told her and dragged his sister away, "Good night Y/N" he called out as I closed the door.

Thank god she didn't see my room, I don't know how I would explain the Oscar Piastri poster I had above my bed and in my closet. My life got interesting to say the least.

Hattie and I weren't able to meet after since there weren't any concerts for a while but there was a Formula One race in a week. Hattie called me asking if I would like to join her family. I was more than grateful to be going because I got to see the race for free. God knows my saving's are crying.

I got dressed for the race and met them at the venue. It was the race day and the hustle and bustle at the paddock had adrenaline pumping through me. Hattie greeted me and introduced me to her family, 2 sisters and her parents who were very kind and welcoming. "It's nice to finally meet the girl who's accompanying our daughter to concerts and the subject of my child's interest" Nicole chimed extending her arm out. "It's so nice to meet you too Mrs Piastri" I said while shaking her hand. "You make me sound old, call me Nicole" she said. "What did she mean by the subject of my child's interest?" I whispered to Hattie. "Nothing" Hattie answered quickly. We walked in to McLaren to be greeted by Oscar and Lando. Starstruck was an understatement. After exchanging pleasantries and me asking for Lando's autograph and a picture with him and then tripping over the wire on the floor almost discharging vital piece of equipment found my way back to everyone and decided to sit in place. Oscar did ask if I was okay but I couldn't really focus on that since I keep embarrassing myself in front of him, of all the people.

The race ended with a pretty decent finish for Oscar that had all of us cheering. He came back to meet everyone after all the formalities and celebration. After a while we started to pack up to leave; "you should help Oscar pack up" Hattie said while making a quick exit with the family. "What? Why?" I asked but was ignored while everyone left. "Hi" a small voice came. "Hey, Oscar. Great race" I said trying to making things less awkward. "Thanks for coming" Oscar said. "Hattie said you guys had extra tickets and plus I couldn't say no to a race" I rambled. "Umm" he scratched the back of his neck, "there were no extra tickets, Lando lent me one of his so I could invite you" he said. "What? I'm so sorry for the trouble" I apologised. "What? No I mean, I wanted you to come...so I asked Lando for the extra ticket" Oscar corrected me. "You wanted me to come" I repeated. "This is so stupid" he muttered to himself. "Let's go, or we'll be late for dinner" Oscar said packing his stuff. "What dinner?" I asked. I was so lost, what was going on? "We're going out for a family dinner" Oscar stated. "You're going on a family dinner, I'm going home. I'm sure they must be waiting for you in the garage." I said grabbing my stuff. "They're not" Oscar lamented running a hand through his hair.

"I could drop you there if you would like" I offered. "No, I...ugh" Oscar sounded frustrated. "Is something wrong? Maybe I can get help" I suggested. Oscar looked at me with the softest puppy eyes, "I got tickets for you, specifically even though I didn't have one, I was ready to not have one of my sisters attend so that you could have a ticket" he said now staring at me. "I don't" I began. "Fuck, Y/N IthinkIlikeyou" he mumbled. "Oscar, I don't know what you said" I said. Lando peeped in, "This is getting frustrating, I thought it would be fun to watch but it's not. That muppet means he likes you, go out with him." Lando chimed. "You like me?" I asked shocked. Oscar just nodded his head slowly. "Put the kid out of his misery and go out with him. I don't think I can take pining Oscar any more or watch him stalk your Instagram profile" Lando quipped. "Can you shut up Lando?" Oscar glared. "I would love to go out with you Oscar" I cut them off; "really?" Oscar asked. "Yeah, I mean you are my favourite driver on the grid" I stated. "Really" Oscar shouted making me and Lando jump. "Let's go now" Oscar said while holding my hand and dragging me out.

1K notes · View notes

coffee-fueled-cookie · 4 months ago

Note

What do you think the club would be like if you were to marry them

Now, this is probably where I get delusional bc I have to like stretch to make this both appealing for those seeking romance, but realistic enough for the comic truthers. But at the end of the day, if you don't like House wife Josh? Wrap it up

That being said

Josh Levy

"Coffee, stop using Padme and Anakin pictures! They don't even relate to his head canons!" I DON'T CARE, I DO WHAT I WANT 🗣

Now listen

You may think Josh wouldn't be the best husband, that he's as bad as Bill, and maybe... maybe he is, but in my heart

He is the ultimate husband

Josh getting married was a healthy step forward for him. You basically saved him from his fate because now he has something to live for and look towards

Does that mean that he's kind of dependant on you? Yes, and sometimes that's hard in your marriage, but usually, things go pretty smooth

Does cook dinner, tries to develop at least a consistent and normal diet, but I'd believe it's hard. Stress eats when he's upset, you'll find wrappers of things hidden in the trash, old habits die hard

After that fire and his mom dying, things between him and his dad had been really rough, and there was a moment after college where they didn't talk to each other

They probably won't ultimately heal that relationship, but trust that when you both start to get serious, he does actually take the time to introduce you to his Dad

This guy is so deep in his fandom culture that the only cheating you've gotta worry about is his Ao3 tabs and his collected stuff, and even then, he probably sold repeats or unnecessary stuff to actually pay for y'alls wedding

It was a very moving moment for you two (He cried but you're pretty sure part of it was out of pain)

Like in the epilouge, he's probably just Facebook friends with Jerry and Pete, but he doesn't go out with them, they don't hang, he's blocked Bill on EVERYTHING

You're his safe space

Bill Dickey

DIVORCE

The fact this guy actually got married... he bagged a baddie?? Free yourself!

Okay, maybe I'm dramatic, but Epilouge Bill had me ripping my hair out, like how could you POSSIBLY be married to THAT!?

I don't even know what to tell you, this will be the most stretched one

Okay, okay, house wife, but like, doesn't do SHIT house wife

Doesn't know how to cook, will clean but like... complain that he's tired when you get home from work

Does use the money from his ebay gigs to pay for the TV subscriptions tho, so at least there's that

You would think he's miserable folding y'alls undies and sweeping and feeding the cat but honestly this is probably the most chilled out he's been in years

Now all you gotta do is peg him and he'll really evolve

Like I'm serious, the whole shebang, this will help and heal him, I swear it

Will he fight the whole way through? Of course, but you can tell by that light in his eyes and that tightness in his throat that he doesn't mind

He'll probably be vulgar mouthed, call you names, call other people names, but when I tell you that shit holds no malice, he just has high blood pressure

It's a dynamic, that's for sure, and you'll probably still have to deal with his collecting, but as years go by, down the line, he'll consider selling a chunk of it or storing it away

Jerry Stokes

The actual chill guy omg

Biggest thing you gotta worry about is stepping on a miniature he left out or trying to declutter his desk where he'll play his cards or customize shit

A crafty husband

Has paints, card stock, scalpels, all sorts of shit

Magic the gathering cards OUT. THE. ASS. And usually it ain't a problem, bc they're in binders and take up minimal space

But he for sure does magic the gathering youtube videos, and the house must be silent when he does em, so that can be a lil aggravating

You guys have your friend group, not seperate, y'all do everything together, and when you guys aren't, then expect to hear "Where's Jerry?"

I wish I had more to add, you guys get take out every Friday, do breakfast on Saturdays, you guys have a show y'all watch together and get excited when new episodes drop

It's just a very dorky and lovey marriage, there's not much to it

Pete Dinunzio

Y'all probably had a shot gun wedding, very sporadic, super fun, and you woke up with the worst headache imaginable

As for if Y'all knew eachother before then?? That's up to you and your lore

It's super casual, you guys considered yourselves married after sleeping in the same bed for 2 years

You know that couple that looks cool, and do cool shit, and you kinda wish you were spontaneous like them?

But then it turns out they're kinda dysfunctional? Yeah. That's it

If you're fine with him working at Sick MOFO then awesome, that makes life 10x easier

If not... yikes

He lives independently despite having a partner, and sometimes that's great, but when he comes home late as shit without having said anything and you're waiting, crying on the couch and worried, but it turns out he was just hanging with Butchie

That gets old quick

He does try sometimes to touch base and be open, he knows his job can be... problematic for some relationships

So a lot of times he'll make up for it by taking you out, setting time aside strictly for you (this pissed his side bitch Butchie off so bad)

Physical to the max, lays on you full body and sleeps like that, nuzzling on you, blowing raspberries in your neck, he can't keep his hands off

"We're married ain't we? Then I can love on you whenever I want!"

Not necessarily Pete but whatever

#the eltingville club x reader #the eltingville club #pete dinunzio #jerry stokes #bill dickey #josh levy #the eltingville club x oc

346 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 1 month ago

Text

If you liked my recap of 8b, stay tuned for a recap of the switch to abc.

It all started on May 1st 2023 when deadline released an article that made every 911 fan's heart stop for a second with the headline "9-1-1 canceled by Fox, will move to ABC for season 7" (the article was later retitled "9-1-1’ Moving From Fox To ABC For Season 7"). No one knew what to expect, the season 6 finale aired with packaged happy endings that were not all that satisfying but made sense when considering the cancelation threat breathing down their necks.

Not a lot happened after that because the writers and actors strike was happening, obviously halting any possible development or real information to be delivered to us. Until the strike end was announced on November 8th (11/8 if you use month/day) to be officially done on November 9 (9/11 if you use day/month). Not a lot was specified until the day season 7 would be airing on ABC was announced with 118 days' notice.

Filming only formally began in January 2024 but the opening disaster involving Bobby and Athena's cruise was being speculated since season 6 ended with them boarding said cruise, and was confirmed shortly after Christmas.

Once promotion started, it was all overwhelming since Fox only did the basics when it came to promoting the show. Premiere parties, multiple interviews, the 100th episode party mid filming episode 102 for some reason. Angela Bassett is teasing a spinoff. Ryan Guzman is doing interviews about the show for the first time since Eddie Begins. Script about an accident at a basketball accident is posted by Jennifer. Fandom is in a crazy state.

Premiere week comes. Everyone is convinced Buck is about to come out as bisexual but everyone is hesitant to believe it. Ryan ranks buddie moments and says the will reveal was Eddie's way of saying "this goes beyond friendship and I love you to the core". He also giggly says the show is gonna give the fans what they want when it comes to Buck and Eddie and teases they will be closer than ever.

Season airs. Cruise disaster somehow involves pirates, an explosion, and a hurricane. We're being reintroduced to everything. The episode that reintroduces the couples has Buck and Eddie co-parenting. The show is renewed for season 8. Leaks start to fly around that Buck will in fact be coming out on episode 100. Which happens. For the euphoria of everyone in the fandom. Harry is recast but no one remembers his part of the 100th episode. Oliver and Ryan post the same picture of buddie even though Buck just kissed another guy. Oliver promptly disappears from the internet, doesn't really interact with anything about the new ship.

Eddie crashes Buck's first date with a guy. 911 proves they need sensitivity readers by making a very unfortunate comparison of a black kid with a dog dying on a call. Eddie has erectile dysfunction because his girlfriend used to be a nun. After asking said girlfriend to move in with him. Buck says he wishes he could help with that, not relevant I just like mentioning it. Buck comes out to Eddie. Beautiful things are happening in the buddie world.

A small hiatus happens. Promo of the episode includes only Buck and Eddie doing karaoke together even thought it's the madney wedding episode. There's an alarming number of phallic things on and around Buck and Eddie. Most of it doesn't make it to the episode. Cast members go on Family Feud. Funny enough it's all actors who play queer characters plus Ryan. That doesn't air until right before season 8 is about to air. Oliver says he wishes Tommy and Buck can stay friends after they break up. Lou says it was supposed to be Eddie and that Tommy is only there so that Buck can work out the kinks about dating a man. In the meantime, he also opens his cameo and starts selling headcanons a fraction of the fandom starts taking as canon even though Tommy is barely in the season after helping Buck come out to everyone. Oliver blushes to previously unknown shades of red talking about buddie getting married in a possible season 10. He also says he was approached about Buck being bi during season 4 but Fox executives blocked the idea. Buddie fans all around feel vindicated thinking the shooting really was supposed to trigger something. A ship war starts with the help of Lou's cameoverse.

Everything about the episode mentions buddie doing karaoke together. The scene was recorded with actual tequila on set because of how nervous Oliver Stark was. The day before the episode airs Tim Minear goes on record about how they had to cut the scene. The episode is actually about Chimney getting viral encephalitis and forgetting he was supposed to get married. They do get married in the end. He was perfectly fine. Buddie fans are mad at the karaoke being cut, Tim Minear says he wrote something he thought was fun and releases the script saying he didn't cut much, he just didn't want to license the song for a really short clip. Someone jumps into the opportunity to shit on buddie since the ship war is at full steam now, Tim Minear says he ultimately writes buddie for himself. Hen and Karen are trying to adopt.

Devin is seen on set and people are hoping for a fun arc with Eddie facing Shannon's ghost. Tim actually had watched Vertigo in his downtime and decided to make Eddie meet his dead wife's doppelganger. The show frames Eddie as cheating on Buck even though he has a whole girlfriend. Bobby gets another begins episode that makes him a child alcoholic while saving the life of Amir, the husband of someone who died in the fire in Minnesota, fully forgetting he was an addict because of a back injury.

Oliver Stark, who up to this point had stopped posting, posts a full scene of Buck, Eddie, and Christopher to his Instagram story. He later also posted behind the scenes of the karaoke scene, a video that showed that Buck was one of the people who ripped Eddie's shirt and that Eddie was the one pouring alcohol down Buck's throat. The song they were singing is also confirmed as What I Like About You by The Romantics.

Big event is being shot at the firehouse, everyone is half convinced that it's a funeral until Lou sends another cameo with a medal of valor around his neck letting everyone know it's a celebration. Bobby wants to retire and is fully suicidal. Chris walks in on Eddie and Shannon's ghost. Eddie's girlfriend doesn't get a proper breakup. Or lines in her last episode. Bobby and Athena's house is set on fire. Bobby saves her, but his heart stops. The show posts enough still from the episode that we know the full plot before it starts. Bobby's heart stops for 14 minutes with no consequences. Athena decides Amir set her house on fire but it was actually a drug cartel. Chris is allowed to run to Texas on a tantrum, Eddie's parents look a little too happy to do it. Gerrard is back and the last shot of the season kinda feels like a reminder that Gerrard hates minorities but it's never brought up again. Bobby forgets he quit. Henren loses their license to foster because the mother of a drunk driver is on a power trip.

No one likes the way the season ends. There are discussions about daddy kinks. Oliver logs in again to like an Instagram post with a picture of buddie captioned "thumb thumb thumb" referencing the way Buck is rubbing his thumb on Eddie's shoulder. He then leaves for a road trip and it's not seen again in weeks. Lou shuts down the cameoverse. People accuse buddie fans of hacking him after some old posts resurface. There's a Disney-wide data leak and people accuse buddie fans of trying to hack ABC to see the karaoke scene after a scene with Tommy is posted to Instagram. Then a deleted scene with Eddie and Chris is posted.

Filming for season 8 starts. The emergency is a beenado. Ryan has a mustache. Oliver makes fun of it with an Instagram filter and someone does a 4 hour long Twitter space called "Oliver lashing" saying Oliver needs to defend his canon love interest and calling him all sorts of stuff. The emergency stuff start to include planes. Every single article written includes the same buddie still from 710. Where's Waldo game is happening but it's just people trying to figure out if Tommy would be back or not. The first official video of the season is just Oliver and Ryan. Everyone wants to know if the mustache is gay and Tim says it is a "manifestation of something inside of Eddie".

The emergency is actually a mid-air collision. The bees are never mentioned again beyond flying higher. Bobby is working on a tv show. The arc actually fucking slaps, with 3 episodes that make everyone hopeful the season will be good. A child and Athena land the plane on a freeway. Tommy is not there. The thing with Gerrard becomes general "he sucks" not the racism from the begins episodes. Hen proves she's being target, gains Mara's custody back, Gerrard was somehow the key. Eddie looked hot as fuck helping a kid with a bad relationship with his father. Bobby comes back.

Halloween episode happens. Buck gets an actual corpse as decoration. There's a dislocated shoulder and boils and he thinks he's cursed. Denny dies because why let Henren be happy. They start his heart back up though. Throughout the whole season Oliver was posting pictures related to the episode. None of them included Lou even though Lou was the person he worked with the most in that episode. There's a picture of him with Ryan tomdaya style though. A still of Buck in green puts the fandom in a frenzy because it's the color Buck was wearing during his breakups. Tommy turns out to be Abby's ex. Maddie wants more kids. Eddie talks to a gay priest. Maddie is pregnant. Buck and Tommy break up. Eddie does the risky business dance after he shaves. He sits drinking beer with Buck with no pants on.

Mandatory copaganda episode happens and brings up the possibility of Athena getting a rookie that goes nowhere. Bobby ends up having to babysit the star of the show he was working on. Brad gets a whole arc at the station. Eddie decides to go to Texas. They frame the scene where Buck finds out as if he is watching porn. The first half of the season ends. The promo for the rest says Maddie will be kidnapped.

Frenzy starts wondering if Ryan is leaving the show. They post a picture of Oliver and Ryan at midnight on New Year's Day. Filming gets fucked due to fires in LA. A buddie goodbye hug leaks. Oliver plays in the NBA celebrity all-star game. He gets an assist, not relevant, I just like that he's good at basketball.

Second half of the season opens with buddie being a romcom intertwined with a criminal minds episode where Maddie and Athena try to catch a serial killer and Maddie tells them to kill themselves then gets kidnapped by them. She gets her throat slashed trying to escape, because Chimney shows up where she's being held, he doesn't know and almost gets killed himself, don't worry though, she survives and saves Chimney's life with a hammer, did I mention she's pregnant? She's pregnant, doesn't miscarry. It's a boy. In the meantime, Buck tries to sabotage Eddie trying to sublet his house. He tries to make Eddie jealous with a dog. It actually works. They solve their differences, Eddie moves to Texas. Buddie goodbye in the rain sponsored by U-Haul. Buck doesn't have a Jeep anymore.

Bobby's mother shows up, she runs a cult being a faith healer. She's dying of cancer though, Bobby then forgives her for leaving him alone with his alcoholic father and leaving him to become a child alcoholic himself. She's never brought up again. While we are figuring that out, Eddie isn't on the episode but Buck says his name 15 times, he hooks up with Tommy, then Tommy tries to get back together but he calls Eddie the competition, Buck snaps and says he doesn't want to fuck everyone he has feelings for and doesn't have feelings for everyone he fucks, then he escalates to somehow saying Tommy was accusing him of being hopelessly pining for Eddie. All this happens while Buck moves to Eddie's house. Yes, Tommy hooks up with Buck at Eddie's house, fully aware it's Eddie's house then wakes up in the morning, buys champagne and about 100 dollars worth of groceries, because the competition is gone. It didn't go the way he was hoping.

Then we finally see Eddie in Texas, no one cares about what sent Chris to Texas anymore even though that's the first chance to discuss the situation they had in 13 episodes, there isn't an opening at the firehouse, Eddie doesn't have a job, so he sells the truck, becomes an Uber in an 8 minutes long montage of random people in his car, patches things up with Chris after Chris and one of his friends get him as their driver. The episode has product placement for Uber, Prius, Amazon, Playstation, M&MS and GMC. In the meantime Maddie loses her voice in some fear reaction to getting back to the job, she's fine though.

Four buddie facetime calls later, Eddie's parents are being demons, Chris throws up at his chess tournament, Eddie "dad's up" and takes Chris back. We find out he did ballroom dancing. Not relevant, just putting it out there. He didn't yell at his mother but he did leave his father in a city 6 hours away, you win some, you lose some. While this was happening in LA everyone but Athena forgets Hen's birthday and they keep running into the same guy. The guy hijacks a bus, accidentally stabs someone, Hen ends up hostage, the guy is actually quite nice, he gets Hen a gift. This episode is actually added at the last minute, allegedly finished about 7 days before it was set to air. Stills from the episode are deleted because there are lines of white powder next to Kenny, the actual scene might've been edited to cut that out too. Screeners for the episodes start getting delayed. Promotion for the next episode is all over the place even though it even has a cool event name, the actual promo video has a cameraman as a focal shot, Oliver says those episodes have some of his favorite scenes then later says he was lying.

Maddie gets a failed gender reveal party. They answer to a pileup, Ravi doesn't check the backseat, there's a kid trapped, Bobby goes to get the kid, the car explodes, Bobby's survives, Ravi wants to quit, Buck doesn't let him. They answer to a fire at a lab that researches infectious diseases. Crazy scientist creates a super virus to sell the cure for the pandemic she will start because she really really really wants a Nobel Prize. There's a second explosion, Buck is locked out of the lab. Chim is infected, Hen has a collapsed lung, Bobby does surgery. Ravi runs out of oxygen, but Bobby figures out a way to connect them to the room's supply. Their PPE is their normal gear and duct tape. They're diy'ing treatments as Chimney is dying on the phone with Maddie. They find out the cure is in the lab after the military decides they all can die, Ravi, they call him Rav now for some reason, goes to get it, they all get threatened with terrorism charges. The cure isn't there. Everything is lit in the bluest light ever created by men. Athena and Buck go after the cure themselves, they find it, the cure was in a bedazzled Stanley cup she stole from another researcher, this is not relevant, I just like saying it. But then the army and the FBI find them, because every law enforcement agency is in the case now. They distract them with a helicopter chase, which sounds cool but it was really boring, Tim wanted it to be 4 minutes long and had to be stopped, Athena gets the cure to the lab. Chimney is cured. We find out Bobby is infected. He got infected saving Ravi. There's no more cure. Bobby is dead. All charges get dropped because they won't risk people finding out that there was almost an outbreak in LA. We don't see a body though. Hosier is playing. Eddie is not there.

A bunch of stuff about this episode leaks beforehand, including Bobby's funeral procession, a script that shows his burial and resurrection in the form of a 911 call where he says he's being buried alive, and a video of Peter on set in uniform with everyone at the station post filming everything for his death. Everything about this decision is confusing. The episode is rated 3.7 on IMDb. Kenny is crying in interviews, Peter says he doesn't want to leave, Angela says there's no Athena without Bobby. Oliver is being cryptic on Instagram posting and deleting pictures of Brad who would've died in his show but didn't, and referencing the Wrath of Khan in his goodbye post, Ryan is sharing edits of Bobby with a pink bow, Aisha shares a goodbye post with an emotional caption, deletes it and reuploads with a more vague one. A Disney executive goes on record about how they didn't want or approve of this death, but somehow they had to approve Ryan's mustache. Tim said Bobby died for realism with a super virus. While they were filming the procession there was an alleged fight about tomatoes between Ryan and Lou. There were also goofy pictures taken with Bobby's casket that were never posted.

Anyway, there's a 2-week hiatus, nothing makes sense. Everyone is wondering if Bobby is dead for real. No promotion for the episode, journalists get screeners the day of, no interviews. 816 airs. It's actually about Athena helping a mother who thinks her dead son was kidnapped and his death was a coverup. Athena goes full Athena, exhumes the body, there is no body, all signs point to the mother was right. Plot twist, the mother was wrong. Lesson to accept loss or something. Lowkey feels like the show is mocking us. Especially because the case was based on a real-life event where the mother was right and her kid had been kidnapped. And because earlier in the season they use the promise of the captain not dying on a show to talk someone off a ledge. Athena didn't want to choose where to bury Bobby, the military was holding up his body, Gerrard is back, Chim is firmly in the anger stage. Eddie is serving after having 50 seconds of screentime total in the past 3 episodes. Buck is somehow the stable one. No eulogies. The funeral is actually the last 5 minutes of the episode. Athena sends Bobby to Minnesota to be buried with his first wife and kids. No one but her and the kids are there. The scene is somehow the same as the leaked script. We brace ourselves for Bobby to rise from the dead. He doesn't. The episode ends. The water is on fire in the promo for 817. The episode starts rated 2.2 on IMDb, currently sitting at 3.3. No one is happy. Even the Facebook wine moms are pissed and saying they'll never watch the show again.

The cast cancel their appearance at a convention in Paris because production will take longer than expected to wrap. Ryan is finally back on set consistently. There's a small earthquake. More callbacks to previous episodes that a showrunner should be allowed to add. Athena wants to go back to work. Buck and Eddie are fighting like a married couple. Karen is trying to help Athena. Hen doesn't want to be captain. Chim is stress building furniture for the baby. Eddie brings Chris to LA to cheer Buck up. Evancito and cariño are now canon ways a member of the Diaz family has referred to Buck. A bunch of stills of a plotline with Buck are posted but the scenes never make it to the show. A building explodes with Athena right outside.

Production wraps. They have a 20s-themed party at a bowling alley, the drinks make fun of how they get the scripts super late, Oliver doesn't dress up. Oliver and Ryan are sent out to do promo in a way they have never before. Everyone is wondering if buddie is going canon. They don't, but ryliver is definitely up in the air. Oliver calls the you wanna go for the title "super gay" and Ryan calls Oliver his love interest. Oliver seems a bit too happy talking about Ryan's body and Ryan can't make himself read a tweet about being topped by Oliver. Angela talks about 911 at the Met Gala red carpet.

The finale has the weirdest pace ever. Eddie gets a going away party even though he's been living in Texas for months and Buck put in for a transfer out of the 118 with no lead-up. Buck drags a guy out of a closet. Athena and Chimney are teaming up to save a couple of people trapped. The building starts to collapse again. Eddie is getting ready to leave but sees the news and rushes to the scene. He saves Buck and Ravi. There are 4 Eddie dramatic reveals in 3 minutes and 47 seconds of runtime. Complete with superhero music. They save the guy they were trying to save. The kid who was helping them had actually been even more seriously injured. He's dying. But teamwork makes the dream work or something like that and they manage to save the kid in a very blatant parallel to Bobby's death, making it seem that Bobby wouldn't have died if the team was all together. Eddie is still leaving until Chim tells him not to. Captain Han is set up. Eddie's arc is solved without a single conversation on screen after 21 episodes across 2 seasons. Maddie has the baby off-screen. Eddie gets another dramatic reveal, there are 8 Eddie reveals in the last 3 episodes of the season. Athena sells the dream house Bobby and her were building. The kid is named Robert Nash Han. Buck might've moved out of Eddie's house but it's unclear. Hen and Karen finally adopt Mara. It feels like a rushed series finale.

The show is being accused of queerbaiting after successfully dodging that for years, people are wondering if Bobby could still be alive. Angela is giggling at questions, saying she doesn't know the future of the characters, mentioning the funeral had a closed casket. No one is happy. The finale is rated 4. The season somehow has 2 of the 10 top-rated episodes of the show and the bottom 3 episodes and 4 of the bottom 5-tied. Season 9 is confirmed and ABC representatives say there is no end in sight. Somehow Deuxmoi posts about wanting the tea on why Peter got written off. No one knows what to expect from season 9.

And that's not even everything you missed in the last 2 years in 911.

#911 #911 spoilers #thoughts thoughts thoughts #ooooof #i had to do this to stop thinking about it #this is long oaksaoskas #this has 4k words #i could be writing fic but im doing this soaksasoaksas

208 notes · View notes