#ill murder anyone who is mean to him >:(
Note
Brain went brrrrrrrr
Price and the new 141 member getting into an argument. Price is all like if you don't behave ill take you over my knee girl.
She's all like I fucking dare you or you'll have to catch me first or even you don't have the balls.
🫠🫠
i’ve always wanted someone who was super by the book to clash with John “i routinely tell my superiors i’m going to maim/murder/hang them” Price. this gave me the perfect opportunity to do so.
noncon spanking. abuse of authority. power imbalance. size kink. mean, dom!Price. forced submission.
You have this way of getting under his skin.
An impossible itch. No matter how many times he picks and prods at his flesh, you worm beneath the dermis, burrowing deep. Sitting pretty against his goddamn bones. Festering.
Incurable.
He turns to vice to stem the irritation. Cigars. Whiskey. His hand shoved down his trousers like he's a fuckin' boy and not a man on the wrong side of forty.
Thinking of you—of breaking that smart mouth of yours on his cock.
It's the way you saunter around with your head held high, balancing golden eggs on your crown, that irks him something awful. The patronising drawl when you huffily remind him that what he's doing is breaking seven, no, ten, different laws, Price. You can't just do whatever you want, there are rules—
And that's the crux of it.
A difference of ideas. Experience. You still see the world in shades of black and white. Good and bad. Unwilling to acknowledge that the line between is saturated and blurred. A putrid muck that traps all. Bogish.
He knew it was a mistake when they sent him your file, asked if he needed the additional help. Hostage negotiator. He's heard of you. By the fucking book. You recite passages like it's gospel, turning printed words into a knife. A terrible fit for a team that works in the pivotal no man's land you claim doesn't exist.
Yet—
He takes you on. Brings you in. Buries his anger at your fucking gall deep in his chest where it rots. Grows. Swallows down the rage, apoplectic fury, when you undermine him at every opportunity, citing laws and regulations like it's a fucking prayer.
A calamitous decision, he knows. Terrible. But—
Despite it all, you're good at what you do. Brilliant. A budding rose germinating in fecund soil. You'll grow into something wild, won't you? Something untamed.
Under his hands, you'll bloom the prettiest. He knows this deep in his bones. But—
“You're breaking the rules, Captain—”
—pedantic little thing, aren't you?
Obediently following the wrong master.
It irks him. He's been known to step on the toes of his superior officers for less, caustic words hissing foul from between his teeth.
But unlike them, you're worth something. Even as the moral antithesis to his utilitarian dogma, he sees your potential. How you can shape this world dangling on a brittle thread if you lay down your senseless principles and follow him. Listen to him.
But of course, you don't.
And he supposes he ought to have known better. It's dripping gasoline over an open flame. The sequence of events is easily premeditated, seen, when you refuse to listen to what he says (“it's against the law, Price!”), walking away from him, his team, the mission, and take matters into your own, morally righteous hands. Bringing his underhanded methods to the desk of your superior officer, demanding he be investigated for crimes. The result is a loose warning from someone in a suit several sizes too big for them, and your fury when he pulls you back, has you assigned to another mission with the 141, with himself. Preens at your glower when you march back into his office, into his hands.
In the fallout, he has no one to blame but himself, really. Anyone could have seen this coming. But the thing about shirking his morality in favour of a better outcome—above all else—is that he doesn't have to.
And so, he doesn't.
No. He blames you.
(How perfect for him, then, that there's no one on base except you and him.)
“If you think I'm not going to report you again if you do something illegal, Price, you're wrong.”
He scoffs, shaking his head at your fucking audacity.
"Better watch that mouth of yours, Sergeant, or you won't like what happens next."
His palm itches when you look up, offering him a slow, feline blink. Leonine eyes creasing at the corners.
"And what is that, sir? I'm just doing my job—" it's whispered breathlessly, all faux professionalism even as jest leaks down your brow. They pinch, then. Drawing together in a mockery of confusion. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?"
"What is that, mm?" He mocks, arms folding over his chest. He has to breathe through his nose for a moment. Gather himself together before he does something reckless, something like—
It's the defiant little jut of your chin that does him in. That unravels this fraying knot of control until threads slip through his fingers. Falling too fast for him to clench down on them.
He's threatened his superiors for far less. His kin, teammates. You have no one to blame but yourself for this, really. No one at all when he pulls his hand from where it's tucked under his armpit, curling rough, worn fingers around your wrist. Pulls you close, wrenching you into his chest until your nose bumps the buckle of his vest.
"'m'gonna take you over my fuckin' knee, is what's going to happen."
Your swallow is a gunshot. “You—you wouldn't dare—”
He leans in close, closer still. Breath scorching over your cheek. Preening when you bare your little teeth at him. “Wanna bet on that, Sergeant?”
It's easier than he would have expected to wrangle you over his knee, pinning you down with an arm across your lower back. The height of his chair keeps your front bent, belly pressed against his thigh. Ass seated perfectly in his lap. Precious gem.
He hums low in his throat, teeth sinking into the butt of his cigar as he locks you tight against him. Grabbing your wrist, twisting it up behind your back. Holding steady. A warning.
The dangerous twinge in your bone stills you.
One wrong move and he'd snap it in half.
This has you taking a different approach, legs falling limp over the armrest. Head dropping over the other side. Malleable in his grasp—however artificial it is.
“Price—” you breathe, winded. Panic on a spindle. “What are you—what do you think you're doing—?”
He hums, mouth tense around the cigar. Words muffled, slurred. “What I should have done a long time ago.”
“What—hey!”
Your words pepper off into a choked scream when his other hand falls to the hem of your pants, grabbing the fabric in his fist. The shock fades into indignation. Anger. He tastes it in the air as your hips squirm, legs kicking at nothing. Furious little growls spilling from your lips as you thrash, unconcerned by the ache in your bone.
“Better keep still, love,” he taunts, mouth curling over his teeth as he twists his hand high, higher, up the small of your back until your fingers brush the skin between your shoulder blades. Any more and he'll break it—
“I'm going to fucking—!” It ends on a whine. A whimper. The pain makes you shiver. “Fuck, fuck—stop, stop, ow, stop—!”
“Not a fan of a little pain then, mm?”
Your breath is ragged. Paints the air in a fine mist of defeat. He has you. The only option out of this is breaking your bone, a threshold no one is willing to cross.
Price purses his lips back around the cigar, inhaling once, thrice, before he slips his fingers out of the hem of your trousers, reaching up to take hold of the cigar. It's all so matter-of-fact. So nonchalant when he places it in the ashtray. When he brings his heavy, warm hand back to your ass, curling his fingers beneath the fabric. Pulling. Tugging.
They come off easier than he'd expected. A harsh tug, and the cleft of your ass is revealed. Plush skin curving enticingly as he rips them down to mid-thigh—panties and all.
The shock fades back into indignation. You hiss something foul under your breath that makes him huff out a chuckle.
“Not really in the position for that, are you, love?”
“Shut up—”
He likes the way you sound like this. Feral. Furious. There's ash in your throat. It blots soot around each word, giving them weight. Gone is the woman who barged into his office, sniffing like you smelled something foul. Backing him into a corner. Sputtering in his face about rules. Regulation.
Now you're bare-assed, panting, in his lap. Small little fawn in the maw of a bear. But oh, do you fight back—
Teeth bared, indignation bleeding into embarrassment, blotting pink in the whites of your eyes.
The sight is hewn into his hindbrain.
“Look at you,” he purrs, petting your cheeks. “Been beggin’ to be bent over my knee since you got here, haven't you?”
“Begging? Don't be—ahh!”
He brings his hand down with a small huff, eyes glued to your flesh. Watching it shake under his hand. The width of one swallowing up an entire cheek. So big is he that you're nearly made infinitesimal in his clutch. The thought makes him groan.
You squirm more in shock than discomfort. Head craning over your shoulder, eyes misting over with tears. Glaring at him.
“What the fuck, Price!”
He strokes your skin, feeling the heat of your flesh bleed through his palm. Resilient little thing, aren't you? He huffs again, blood buzzing. Electric. There's a kindling fire in his guts. Embers sparking, catching.
He can't deny how badly he's been wanting to have you like this. Craving your tears, your agony, your submission.
“Count,” he barks out, rough. Abrasive. “You're getting ten. Count ‘em for me, and if you miss one, I'm adding two more.”
“You're crazy, you're—!”
His hand comes down again. The impact shakes the fat of your ass. The strike makes you yowl, thrashing to get away. You don't get very far, still trapped in his hold. The threat of a broken bone keeps you from lashing out too wildly, and all you can really do is sit in his lap, and take it—
The notion has him groaning low in his throat. Something wicked spooling in his veins. Wanting. The sight of you heaving, bare-assed, and begging for mercy unleashes something inside of him. Something primal. Starving.
Price takes a breath to steady himself, head buzzing. Heart pounding. It feels like the euphoria of nicotine—all bliss, sedation. Ease.
Cathartic.
“I said count,” he rasps, words cinder in his chest. Smoke. Dragged up from that burning pyre in his belly. Nocuous, hungry. “That's an order, Sergeant.”
His hand is scorching against your skin. Thoughts turning over themselves as you hiccup in his lap. So pretty, he thinks, eyes flitting over to you. Taking in the sight of your shock, your denial. It tastes like fine wine on his tongue. Heady.
“Here comes one—”
“One?”
“I told you, didn't I?” His nail rakes across your skin, cruel. Mean. Something preens when you gasp. Your pain perfuming the air. “M’addin’ two more if you don't count. Thought your speciality was listenin’?”
You scowl, twisting back to level him with an awful sneer. “Oh, fuck you—!”
His hand comes down again, harder this time. Vicious. The scream is tangled in your throat, gagged. He feels pleasure—dark and ugly—bloom in his chest, dripping, liquid, down the length of his spine. The twist of agony on your face is beatific.
“Not gonna count?” He taunts, pinching your inflamed flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “We're gonna be here all day at this rate, love.”
He leans down, broad chest curling over the small of your back, hand cupped possessively over your cheeks. “But maybe you want that, mm? Maybe all this, mhm, insubordination has just been for show. You wanted this. Wanted to be taken over my knee—”
“You're wrong. I haven't—” it tapers off into a squeak when he pinches your flesh again.
Price pulls back, breathes shallowly through his nose.
“You and that smart fuckin' mouth. Told you it was gonna get you in trouble—”
He doesn't wait. His hand rears, and comes down with a loud smack that echoes in the sparse office he has you trapped inside. Your howl races alongside it, curling up the walls. Beautiful in all its agony.
“Christ—” it's a dagger to his resolve. You sound so fucking good howling like this. Oscillating between feral anger and pain, hissing vitriol between clenched teeth. Choking on sobs.
The first few are experimental. Testing the waters. Feeling. You're combative during it all. Fighting. Screaming. Each strike is uncounted, echoed only with a plea for help. One he knows won't come—
The only person on base is his Lieutenant. Ghost knows better than to barge in on his affairs.
“No one's comin’, love,” he grunts, sweat beading along his hairline, dripping down his temple. The room heats along with the blood in his veins, stifling and oppressive. He reinforces each hit with more strength, increasing the tempo until you're screaming on his lap, begging for mercy, mercy, please, please, Price stop, stop—
Your skin raises with each new strike. Swelling. Becoming inflamed. The perfect imprint of his handprint sits on each cheek, edges intumescent. The globes shake, shuddering deliciously under each hit.
He gets to eleven before you break. Tears streaming down your face, voice a threadbare whisper. Hoarse from screaming.
His hand rains down, slaps your left cheek so hard it stings his hand. Burns. You whimper. Mewling. Squirming on his lap, and then—
“O–one—”
He grunts, feels himself thicken in his trousers. “Good girl.”
You shudder, body breaking out in goosebumps. “Price—”
“Ah, ah, love. You're not allowed to speak unless you're counting.”
He hits you again, cock throbbing when you tense up, sniffling. Grinding out a soft two between trembling lips.
You don't break the way he wants you to. There's a glare on your face despite the tears, the sniffles. A defiance that burns over the bridge of your nose.
But that's fine. He has eight more strikes to ruin you, doesn't he?
He sets to it with a low moan, your pelvis pressing taut to his tumid cock, the friction raging in his guts.
But that, he finds, isn't really the point. No. The pleasure, the arousal, is secondary to the way you fall to pieces at his hand. Flesh stinging his palm with each loud smack that rings out sharply in the room. Uneven breaths. Shuddering little ah-ah-ahs that tumble out through clenched teeth.
It's addictive, this. Therapeutic.
There's static in his head. White noise. It renders everything else mute. Moot. Molasses drips down, thick and entrenching, congealing over every churning thought in the back of his head. There's a sense of peace, ease, he hasn't felt in years. In decades.
He feels his belly knot each time your ass jiggles, skin bulging up from the trauma of being hit so harshly. Chafed under his palm. Welts forming in the shape of his hand. A tattoo you'll have for weeks when he's through with you. Aching each time you try to sit. And fuck—
You'll think of him. Of this. Being taken over his goddamn knee like the bad fucking girl you are. Broken in over his lap. Helpless. Submissive.
The whimpers fade, replaced with shallow hiccups. Your throat is torn. Raw, ruined, by your screams, yowls. Each rasping whine sends jolts of pleasure down his spine. Liquid want molten in his marrow.
“S–seven, nngh—”
The moan slips out—scorched, bleached—and drills deep into his loins.
He peels his gaze away from your blistered skin, glancing at your face, but you duck from his view. Hide. Dropping your head over the armrest. Evading him.
It's new, this. This meekness.
You were so combative, so feral before. His gaze rakes down the expanse of your spine, over the curve of your cheeks, before settling, hot and heavy, at the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. You squirm in his lap, thighs sliding together. Rubbing. It's no different from before when he'd spank you, but—
He catches it.
It glints in the soft light when you move, and he feels something dark, ruinous, curl in the tar-stained fibrils of his chest. Congealing in the crevasses. Hardening.
Price flicks his tongue out, swiping over his lower lip. The bristles of his beard graze the soft flesh, prickling across it. His throat is suddenly dry. Parched.
His hand comes down again, notably softer than the other hits he subjected you to. Almost—
Tender.
This isn't meant to hurt. Not this one.
He strokes his finger over your skin, cock throbbing with the rasping gasp that spills—a twisted amalgamation of pain, skin still smarting, burning to the touch, and—
His lashes flutter. Nostrils flaring.
Your slick, wet, between your inner thighs.
He slides his hand down, down, until your ass cheek is cupped in the bracket of his thumb and forefinger. Nestled tight. A perfect fit. The sight of your skin—soft, so soft—against his bearish, hirsute paw is sickeningly addictive. He grunts, pressing his thumb into the crease between your cheek and thigh.
“P–Price—”
And then he pulls, moaning deep in his chest as he peels the fat of your ass away, unveiling your cunt to his rapacious gaze. Fuck—
“What’s this?” He taunts, breathless. Pinched. You squirm, trying to press your thighs together. Hiding your pussy from his scorching stare. He doesn't let you. “Gettin’ off on me spankin’ your arse?”
“N–no, I'm—”
He pushes his thumb up, sliding it over your skin. Gathers your slick on the tip. “Don't lie to me, mm. You're fuckin' soaked.”
The air is punched from his lungs. Spills out in a wretched grunt. In the vacuum, something grows. Knots. Festering inside his chest. Animalistic. Primal. There's an itch in the back of his head.
He lets go of your arm, knows you won't run. Won't try to escape. No.
You're a good girl, aren't you? One who does what they're told. Follows orders. It tangles in the soporific slurry of his head, pitching a bivouac of need when you bring your arm down, curling it through the gap of the armrest, holding tight.
Bracing yourself.
His hum breaks in his throat. He drags his hand away from your cunt, reaching for the snuffed cigar idling in the ashtray. There's a fever in his veins. It makes his hand tremble. Shake. He needs the blunted drag of nicotine to quench this heady anticipation blooming in his guts. A brumous storm gyring inside him, an incipient maelstrom of want thickening. Intensifying. Threatening to spill over.
He needs something to steady himself before he tears into you like a beast—
You cock your head over your shoulder, staring at him with eyes drenched in midnight ink. There's a flicker across your tear-stained expression. Something coy. Feline. Leonine.
There's nothing said. Nothing needs to be. He finds what he's looking for in the fracture of your mien, and scoffs under his breath at your sheer gall. Little fuckin' minx.
Tobacco proves to be a paltry facsimile when he draws in a bursting mouthful. The restive glow of it dulled under the adrenaline coursing through his veins, heady. Syrupy. A roaring deluge of anticipation broiling in the balmy air, crackling around him like a storm cresting over the horizon. Ozone saturates in the thickening atmosphere.
Something will break. Shatter.
He tenses, waiting for the first stormcloud to breach, and drops his hand back to your tender ass. Stroking over the raised welts just to make you gasp. Your hips flex under the shocks of pain riveting down your spine, undulating in his lap. Pitched perfectly over his cock.
His breath shudders through a needlepoint. The friction is electric.
In petty retaliation—and just to see you squirm—he trails his knuckles over your heated skin, luxuriating in the way you shiver. Head falling back down over the armrest, beautifully alluring in your vulpine submission. His fingers dip between the cleft of your cheeks, feeling the slickness sticking to your soft, sensitive skin. Soaked between your thighs. Wretched girl.
His index and middle finger slide over your slit, parting your folds. He feels the small pulses of your drenched hole against his flesh when he slides over it with the press of his fingers. Eager little thing.
He hums under his breath at the sight of his hand seated across your hand, fingers shoved between the globes of your smarting ass. Soft and tender to worn and gnarled. The cropping of dark hair over his knuckles, his hand, against your bare skin is obscene. The picture of sin with your stricken flesh and his thick veins. The contrast curdled in the back of his head, morphing into something ugly and wanting.
Idly, he thinks of making you bounce your sore ass on his lap later, your pussy swallowing up his fat cock. Taking it all the way to the root. Over and over again. Breaking you on it until you're begging for mercy, until this little attitude of yours is crushed between his teeth.
Slick gathers against the rough pads of his fingers, drenching them. The hair on his knuckles is matted down, wet with your arousal. Naughty girl. He'll make you pay for that.
And for the puddle seeping into his trousers.
You mewl when he slips, sliding over your clit. The noise spilling molten over your lips, bludgeoning into his loins.
He drags in another mouthful of smoke. Lets it rot between his teeth as he drops the cigar into the ashtray once more, attention riveting to the slip-slide of your slick thighs rubbing together for friction against your aching clit. Cunt pulsing needily against his hand.
You haven't learned a damn thing at all, have you?
Smoke funnels out of his nostrils when he growls. “Spoiled, aren't you? Need to be taught a lesson in respect.”
“I, ah, am respectful, Captain—”
He sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. This lippiness of yours grates on his nerves. He wants you begging for mercy, limp in his hold. Pretty doll. Waiting obediently for him to put you back together again. Soft and submissive at his heel.
“Got three more to go, love.” You shiver when he strokes over your ass. Petting gently with wet, tacky fingers. “If you're a good girl and take it for me, I'll play with your pretty cunt, mm. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
Price brings his hand down, grunting when you moan out his name. Sharp and needy. Your plaintive posturing is a spark inside a tinderbox.
“E–eight.”
The next one is harder, sharper. The force twinges his joints. Rattles through his bone.
It's unexpected, and the pain makes you yowl, body drawing tight like a bow. There's no pleasure when it's like that. No friction against your cunt. It's just—
“Price—!” You yelp, shrill and distressed. The lead up to this has been child's play. A soft hand to tender a nervous mare.
His old man taught him to never strike with the whip first but to wean them slowly.
He waits, humming mockingly to your pettering whimpers as you heave, tremulous, into the air. Shuddering in his grasp at the aftershocks of agony rippling through your body.
Waits. Waits. And—
“Ah, ah,” he tuts, cooing low and condescending when you gasp, craning your neck to level him with an imploring, pleading stare as you stammer out a frenetic nine in a breathless rush. Tears soak your lashline, clumping them together when you blink through another deluge pooling against the rim. Your lip wobbles. The stream breaks, spilling over. Fresh tears run down your wet, sticky cheeks.
There's real panic in the whites of your eyes now. That haughty, pedant gleam buried under pyretic desperation. Gone is the coy twist to your lips. The wily little bloom of amusement in your gaze.
Aw, poor thing. But—
Too late. “You didn't count. You know what that means, love.”
That knot in his chest unfurls, and leaks acid into his lungs. This want is corrosive. A poison. The sob breaks through your chest. The first thunderclap. He relishes in it. Leans back in his chair to bask in the potency of your unmaking.
“Good girl,” he husks out, burning lungs spewing black smoke into the air. “Just ten more now, love. Know you can take it for me, can't you?”
Pretty thing. He'll have that haughty attitude snuffed out before the end of the night. Have you begging for his touch, his cock, him, before the sun draws across the horizon.
Your ruination at his hand. The thought strokes along the kindling smouldering inside of his chest. Burning away at the pyre he's been building since the day he met you. When you looked up at him, pretty in your scorn, and disobeyed his command. Undermined him. So righteous in your fury. A burgeoning flame he wanted nothing more than to snuff out under his heel, and now—
Wide, wet eyes plead with him. “Please, Price. Please, please. I'll be good—I promise I'll be good, sir—”
—ash in the palm of his hand.
He strokes over your searing flesh, humming softly under his breath. “I know you will, pretty girl—” basks in the hiccup of relief you let out, lets it glue in his ears, echoing over and over again. So sweet.
He lets your relief live for a moment. Take its first breath of air through aching lungs—
“But I told you, didn't I? That I'd take you over my knee.” Price pats his hand over your cheek, shushing you when you startle, squirming on his lap.
“Now. Be a good girl and count for me, mm?”
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME
(HAELENA’S TURN)
STAY WITH US
pairing: helaena targaryen x targaryen! reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader
word count: ~3k
warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, light cursing, angsty helaena, one single mention of sex. dont @ me if you find a haelena instead of a helaena. targaryen names are much too complicated for my brain
a/n: thank you guys for all the love on aegon's oneshot. i was bouncing on the walls when i saw how much love it received and that some people agree with me in terms of alicent being a shit mom. that being said you dont really have to read the first part to read this. it works as a stand alone although it is a continuation.
although the inspiration to write these oneshots was the death of a child i love how soft and comforting they've come out. it's about sympathizing and giving these characters the love they deserve.
helaena deserves so much love even more than aegon. she's an innocent in all of this trapped in the midst of war. hell even rhaenyra agrees and scolded daemon for his misdoings.
im thinking of writing one last part where it is all three of them together: reader, aegon and helaena. i'm leaning towards smut but i never know what my brain will come up with. if you’d rather have some more domestic fluffy stuff let me know and that can be arranged!
enjoy!
Your fingers close around your skirts as you fly up the stairs to Helaena's bed chambers. One of her maids leads the way. The young girl sought you out as you readied for bed, rambling about how Queen Helaena was in distress. Without further question, you slipped on your robe and followed her.
The Queen has not been well since the night her child was brutally taken from her. She continues to live day by day in constant suffering as her mind has a difficult time coming to terms with that night's events.
As it happens, saying Helaena is 'not well' is an understatement.
She might've been 'not well' after the fact, but the funeral proceedings broke the last thread of sense she was holding onto. If anyone is to blame, it is the Dowager Queen who forced her to attend and Otto Hightower who was the 'mastermind' behind it all.
It was torture to hear the people of Kings Landing shouting for her, screaming vile words about Rhaenyra, and offering condolences about a subject they barely knew a thing about.
Most had never seen the young Prince; his cold body and the gold thread around his neck were their first glimpses of him. They gasped and awed at her child as if he were a spectacle while she had no choice but to sit and watch with composure.
It is only natural she would fall apart under the pressure of such ill-conceived plans. Her overthinking mind couldn't handle it any longer when the carriage got stuck. Her thoughts coming up with the most of wicked scenarios. She had to run.
Then, there is Jaehaera, who continues to ask for her twin brother. The poor girl has never spent a day apart from him since they were conceived. It is difficult for Helaena to hear Jaehaera constantly ask where he is and when he will return. It's a never ending reminder of her loss.
Besides, how is she to explain death to a child when Helaena herself has not accepted it.
The newly assigned guard sworn to protect the Queen opens the door for you as soon as you round the corner. His anticipation worries you to no end, and you fear what lies past those doors.
Maids surround Helaena, attempting to comfort her. She screams at them to let her be, but they persist. The maids mean well. Helaena is clearly distressed, yet they don't seem to realize it's because of their overbearing presence.
The young Queen swats them away. Her fingers thread through her messy hair as she seeks an escape, and sobs rake through her slender body until she collapses on her knees. Her lips move in unreadable murmurs in between each yell.
Helaena barely appears like herself. Dark purple circles line her under eyes, and her hair is unbrushed and knotted. Her signature plump cheeks have hollowed out, indicating that she has lost weight.
"Please," Helaena cries to no one in particular, recoiling from their touch.
You barrel through the maids and kneel on the floor at an arms length from Helaena. "'Laena?" you softly call to get her to look at you, knowing that if you even attempt to touch her, she will shy away.
At the recognition of your voice, Helaena's face whips up. She falls into your arms, hiding from the other females in the room. The tears that stain her face wet your robe as you hold her close. She tucks her face into your neck, hiccuping from emotion.
"Leave us," you command with a stern gaze that borders on anger.
The maids move to leave the room, but only after notifying you that the Queen has barely eaten or bathed in days. Once the door closes shut, you coax Helaena from your arms.
"What is wrong, 'Laena?" You ask softly, cradling her face to brush away her tears. The sight of her red and blotchy face breaks your heart. She must've been like this for a long time.
"It is my fault," she hiccups as new tears follow the path of the others. Helaena hangs her head in despair. She should've fought harder to keep her son alive. There must've been something else she could've done.
"Look at me," you say sternly, forcing her to look at you. It is when her eyes meet yours that you continue, "This is not your fault."
"I was the one to point my finger," she argues while her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her dress when a new wave of emotion takes over.
Helaena is an overly emotional person. She feels things deep in her chest. She wishes she could control it, but the more she holds it in, the nastier it gets when it gets out of her control. Her body freezes and pleads for her to run and hide.
"Helaena, this was going to happen whether you pointed your finger or not. If you hadn't done what you did, you and Jaehaera would be dead as well."
It's blunt and a bit cruel, but Helaena must understand that she had no other choice. The only way this could've been stopped was if she had been assigned a sworn protector, but the council underestimated their enemy and Ser Criston Cole was too busy getting his cock wet to do anything about it.
"I told them to spare him and kill me instead," Helaena confesses with a weep.
She lets herself go on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around her shaking shoulders. You kiss the top of her head to console her guilty conscience. Helaena did not deserve to be a victim of Daemon's terrible idea. She might just be the most innocent of Targaryens.
"I know, Helaena, you were so brave. You're a wonderful mother. This is not your fault, and nobody blames you. You did what you had to do. Jaehaera is alive and well because of you."
It's hard for Helaena to stop thinking in such a way once she starts. The thoughts cause her to imagine things that aren't really there and doubt her reality. She feels like the staff's glances are not of worry but of resentment for letting those men kill her boy. Aegon's absence makes it all the worse.
"Aegon will not look at me, much less speak to me," she whimpers, wrapping her arms around your waist.
A tear slides down your cheek. You will never compare your sadness to theirs, but seeing them hurt in such a way pains you. Their marriage was arranged, yes, but Aegon and Helaena hold deep affection for each other. They simply have a difficult time showing it.
In this instance, there is no one who understands them better than each other. It is tragic but this should bring them closer together not tear them apart.
"Aegon is grieving. He can barely stand to look at himself because he feels like he failed his family, 'Laena. I promise you he will come around."
Helaena nods with her head on your shoulder. She is not convinced, but your words soothe her for the time being. Tears continuously slide down her face, and there is nothing you can do about it. You much prefer she cries it all out than hold it in.
"Come," you tell her, holding her hand and guiding her to the bath the maids had prepared before they left. "Let's get you ready for bed.”
You keep her close to you, reassuring Helaena you're there to stay as long as she needs. You help her untie the strings of her dress, and as you hang it over the back of a chair, she slips out of her smallclothes.
She accepts your hand to step into the bath. The water has now cooled, but she doesn't complain. It is the least of her worries. Helaena sits in the tub with her arms around her knees and silently cries.
Your goal tonight is to get her to rest. You can tell she hasn't slept in a long time, which will make her feel better.
Settling on the wooden stool next to the bath, you lather soap into the sponge and ask for her arm. Helaena complies, and you gently swipe the sponge across her skin. The maids were thorough as the smell of a calming oils invades your senses. They sincerely wanted to help their Queen.
Scrubbing down her arm, you note her nailbeds, which are red and raw. You're gentle with the soap when you reach her hand to prevent it from burning. Once you rinse it out, you bring her hand up to your lips, kissing her fingertips much like your mother would do when you got hurt.
Her crying calms when she catches onto your gesture, watching you in awe.
It is easy to note how she's thinned out as you continue to bathe her. Her skin presses against her ribs, showcasing each indent, and the bony prominences of her shoulders are much more palpable. It worries you to no end. Everyone has different coping mechanisms, but this is by far the unhealthiest one.
In the morrow, you will make it your goal to get her to eat. For a start, you will ask the kitchens to bake her favorite dessert. There has never been a moment where Helaena has refused a berry tart.
"Tilt your head back for me, love," you whisper, grabbing the pitcher of clean water from the table. Brushing Helaena's hair back, you pour the water, being careful not to get it in her eyes.
As she tilts her head back, she keeps her watchful eyes on you. She is in one of the most intimate positions, yet her lilac eyes reveal the most vulnerable parts of herself. You offer Helaena a comforting smile. Moving on from this tragic accident will be difficult, but we have to start somewhere.
When you lather her hair with soap and massage her scalp, she closes her eyes with a shudder. In turn, her shoulders relax, and goosebumps appear across her skin. A quiet moan slipping past her bitten lips.
Moving on to her face, Helaena watches you closely as you grab a rag to wash her face. You're so careful and tender with her. She has not made mention of it, but your touch feels pleasant against her skin.
You dab her neck next, looking over the wound that was cast upon her. You wish for it not to scar. Helaena needs no more reminders of that night.
After finishing the bath, you help her stand and dry off. Then, you follow her to the bed, where her nightgown lies discarded. With your assistance, she quickly slips it on. Helaena is quiet as she dresses; no more tears well up in her eyes.
"Let's brush your hair," you whisper soothingly.
Delicately, you glide the brush through her silver strands. You tackle the knots methodically to prevent pulling on her hair. A couple of drops of rose oil help greatly with the task as the bristles move smoothly across the long length of her hair.
Helaena sighs softly, and, through the mirror, you can see her eyes are closed. The poor thing must be exhausted.
"How are you feeling?" You ask her, tying the plait you weaved and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. You prop your head upon hers, cuddling her into you.
"Better, I suppose," she nods gratefully, grasping your hand hanging loosely across her chest. "I am tired," she admits.
"Let's get you to bed then."
Before you can slip away, Helaena protests and holds your wrist. "No, please." You're taken aback by the desperation in her voice. Why is she refusing to rest when her body begs for it?
"Helaena, when was the last time you slept?"
Helaena appears guilty. She swallows the knot on her throat, preparing to answer. "Not since that night. The nightmares do not allow me respite."
You sit beside her on the bench, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "Do you wish to speak about them? It might help."
Her voice is barely above a whisper. "It's always the same. They return when the nights darkest and take Jaehaera."
Helaena is terrified. Many of her dreams have become reality, and this is one she would not be able to bear witness to. The things they do in her dreams are unforgivable. She cannot lose her daughter to those monsters.
Silence takes upon the room. Helaena cannot survive in a sleep deprived state, there must be something you can do. "What if we bring her here? She can sleep with you. That way, you will know she's safe."
Helaena ponders your suggestion, her eyes drifting away. "Will you stay?" Although a question the way Helaena's voice cracks, it's more of a plead.
"Is that what you wish, my Queen?" You ask, caressing her cheek so she returns to you from that faraway place in her mind.
She's quick to nod and squeeze your hand in gratitude. "Please," she whispers, leaning into your touch.
"Anything for you."
Helaena accompanies you to Jaehaera's new chambers. The King saw it fit Jaehaera did not reside in the room where her twin brother was murdered. A wise choice.
If your memory serves you well, Jace used to inhabit the space once upon a time.
Helaena almost runs to her daughter's cot, ensuring she's alive and well. You sympathize with her, it's natural to worry about your child if another was stolen from your life.
"Mama," Jaehaera yawns when Helaena picks her up.
"You're sleeping with mummy tonight, yeah?" Helaena whispers, cradling the back of her head and kissing the crown of her head.
Jaehaera, too tired to reason or even question it, nods and nestles into the crook of Haelena's neck. The sight is eerily similar to that fateful night.
The guard posted to protect Jaehaera escorts you to the Queen's chambers, standing on the opposite side of Helaena's white cloak guard.
Once inside, you slip off your robe and join her and Jaehaera on the bed. The girl is safely nestled between you both, pale lashes fluttering shut.
Helaena reaches for your hand to ensure you do not leave, and you lace your fingers with hers. "Sleep, 'Laena. I'll keep you safe," you promise her.
All it takes for Helaena to sleep is a lullaby your mother used to sing to you. It was of great tales of the people of Old Valyria. It was your favorite growing up, and now it is Helaena's.
By the song's end, Helaena's breaths even out and she succumbs to slumber. Although her face reflects her tiredness, the resemblance between Helaena and Jaehaera is stark.
When your eyes begin to close, eager to follow Helaena and Jaehaera to the land of dreams, the door creaks open. Startled, you sit up on the bed to search for an intruder, ready to scream if need be.
Aegon stands by the door, his chest heaving and his face pale. His hair is in disarray, and his eyes are wild with worry. "Where is Jaehaera?" he asks.
"She's right here," you respond, lowering the sheets and moving your body to reveal her resting upon Helaena's chest.
Aegon sighs in relief, and after a moment of hesitation, he timidly steps closer to the bed, observing the scene in front of him. He has taken to visiting his daughter's chambers throughout the night. He doesn't trust the guards, even if he is the one who assigned them. Aegon needs to see with his own eyes that his remaining child is alive and not endangered.
He had been frightened when the guard who was supposed to be posted by her door was gone, and worse, so was his daughter. Before he could scream, a maid walked in and, upon questioning, told him Jaehaera was in the Queen's chambers with her mother and the Princess.
You lay back against the headboard and observe him. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over you to brush a strand of hair away from his wife's face. Then, his hand lowers as his fingertip traces the slope of his daughter's nose.
"You should talk to her."
Helaena's words are clear as day in your mind. After witnessing Aegon in the same position, you reckon it would be good if they spoke to one another.
"I wouldn't know what to say," Aegon responds with a shake of his head.
"Yes, you do," you insist, resting your hand upon his, which lays on the bed. He glances questioningly at you, silently asking you to explain.
Your voice is light and soft. The last thing you want is to wake Helaena, although your instincts tell you it is doubtful. "Nobody understands what you're going through better than Helaena. She lost a child as well and feels just as hopeless as you do. Talk to her and tell her the words you would've liked to hear."
"It is that easy?" He asks in disbelief with a scoff. He looks at you for guidance. You've helped him more than anyone in the council or his own mother.
"Yes," you chuckle, and he joins you, if only for a moment. "Would you like me to go so you can stay?" You wouldn't want to intrude in a moment that can unite a family yet again.
Aegon shakes his head and urges you to stay abed. "It is alright. I will soon talk with 'Laena."
For a brief moment, Aegon presses his forehead against yours to show his appreciation. He stands with a press of his lips to your forehead and one more glance at his family. "Thank you for everything. I hope one day I can repay you for all your kindness."
"There's no need."
He does not speak but shares a glance that says a thousand words. Aegon closes the door behind him and turns to the guards standing by it.
Their backs visibly straighten when he addresses them. "Under no circumstance are you to leave your post. Your goal is to protect the Queen and the Princesses."
After all, his heart and soul are in that room.
STAY WITH US
came out a little longer than aegon but there was much to do with lovely helaena. queen helaena is a big reason as to why i hate alicent so much. alicent has let her down time and time again. how can she fucking ask helaena not to say anything about her and cole? fuck, alicent, she's not even thinking about that.
did you enjoy this one shot? please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and alicent and cole slander) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!
#fanfiction#fanfic#aegon targaryen fanfiction#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii x reader#aegon targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd season 2#hotd aegon#hotd fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#aegon x helaena#helaena targaryen#helaena targaryen x reader#helaena x reader#helaena x reader x aegon#helaena the dreamer#helaena x aegon ii#helaena fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I wanna be blunt about this ongoing James somerton suicide threat issue but I don't want to connect it to my IRL Twitter to comment on the dogshit takes I'm seeing there or the good and well meaning but maybe too kind takes I'm seeing here.
Obviously, I hope that this is a false alarm cry for help fake threat. Yes, it would reinforce that Somerton is a self-centered egomaniac who can't handle consequences but that's preferable to dead.
But I work in local news and let me tell you something. I've covered half a dozen family annihilating murder suicides and heard hundreds of men making suicide threats over police scanners and a huge swath of these don't happen because they're depressed or because people are mean to them on the Internet. They're punishment. A person with an enormous amount of entitlement towards people around them gets backed into a corner and they punish the people closest to them by killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves.
No one wants to talk about this feature of suicide because...you want to help people who are struggling and guide them away from this path and being blunt about the fact that sometimes people die of suicide as a consequence of their own shittiness towards the world does not really help actively suicidal people. But suicide rates are higher in men not just because they have higher rates of untreated mental illness (a societal issue we must address for the sake of all) but because some people, often men, use suicide (but more often the threat of suicide) as a tool of abuse and control.
I'm not saying somerton is like, an icky abuser bad guy, he's just a run of the mill grifter scumbag, but his actions in the past show a clear pattern of escalating behavior that aligns with this.
Somerton gets called out -> somerton alleges physical threats of violence against himself and his fans rally around him supportively -> Harry calls somerton out in a bigger way -> Somerton says he's hospitalized but there are inconsistencies with the story but no one wants to talk about that because you wanna be nice-ish about a guy who just tried to kill himself and now he's trying to be framed as tragic but it doesn't really stick -> somerton apologizes again but his apology is rightly called out for lies and manipulative framing as well as his continuing attempts to profit off the community he betrayed -> James posts a suicide note publicly putting the onus of his own suicide on the loss of his friend Nick who he repeatedly threw under the bus and now everyone is rallying to say nice-ish shit and wring their hands in concern over poor james -> indefinitely repeat this vicious cycle forever until he actually does die or finally gives up and gets real, intensive therapy and a day job.
Thats not to say anyone's concern is misplaced, it's 100% better for him to be a living scumbag than a dead one. He deserves the chance to grow and learn and have a life outside of youtube.
But you don't have to portray this as the action of a sad depressed man who got bullied off the Internet. It's manipulation, whether he intended to go through with it or not and whether someone intervened or not. Not denying that internet bullying is a thing, I'm sure there were some people who were shitty directly to James but he made the choice to not unplug from this and to try and keep being a public figure rather than taking care of himself. He could have deleted Twitter, blocked anyone who was an asshole, gone to therapy and tried to move on with his life but if he'd deleted his channel he'd have lost monetization... Can't have that, right? So he posts some apology videos so his channel stays active and then complains about how ruinous this is while never trying to take real accountability.
But the reality is that people would have forgotten about him so quickly and maybe his job prospects would've been impacted but...that's on him, and that's for him to figure out but it's not actually life ruining. He chose to continue to engage knowing he'd get backlash and hate and he'd feel worse and worse and things would never get better without the time and space for people to forget.
He made the choice to make a public spectacle of his own alleged suicide. That is the action of someone who wants to put the weight of their suicide on someone else's shoulders and is morally wrong. He can be held to account for that, alive or dead.
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi!! I really love your writting🥰 i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack please❤️
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking
Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them
Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while
Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen
And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked
Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you
Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield
Oh… oh!
Was this guy harassing you?
How dare he? How dare-
Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry
By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together
He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"
A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him
For you the whole thing was over but for that student?
Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems
Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down
Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive
Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...
Ignore that bottle in the cupboard
Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them
Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend
So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red
The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it
(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)
Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though
Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him
Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours
How nice of him
But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you
Of course Jack didn't do that
Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left
Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands
Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw
He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so
Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman
Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?
First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)
If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year
But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him
When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...
And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)
Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too
If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection
But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)
Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore
And nothing weir happened
No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)
From then on you were much closer to the hunter
Especially after a body was found
And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day
Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm
How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...
And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm
The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly
It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm
Well, at least you were now close to him
Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?
Uh and… maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#self aware au#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#yandere trey x reader#yandere trey clover#trey clover x reader#yandere trey#twst trey#trey x reader#twst jack#yandere jack howl#yandere jack x reader#yandere jack#twst rook x reader#yandere rook x reader#rook hunt x reader#yandere rook hunt#yandere rook#twst rook#rook x reader#tw: yandere#tw: murder#tw: violence#tw: obsessive behavior#tw: blood
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
idk if this is allowed but,
threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu
⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐
⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.
⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au
⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭
⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!
“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.��
Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”
“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”
You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.
Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.
This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.
You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.
“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”
Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.
You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.
“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”
You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.
Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”
“I do not.”
“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.
Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”
Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”
You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.
“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.
“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”
Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”
“Two people, still very little.” he counters.
Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.
“Jihyo, Miyeon—”
“I fucked Miyeon.”
“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”
He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.
“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.
“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.
“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.
You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.
“Just beer.” You reply.
He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.
You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”
He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”
You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.
“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.
“Aye aye captain.”
He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”
You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”
Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.
You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”
“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.
Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.
…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.
The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.
You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.
“I’m fucking her ass here.”
Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.
“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.
Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.
You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”
You shake your head, dismissing him.
Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.
“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.
“But not a liar.”
“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”
“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.
Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”
God, this again!
“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”
“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.
“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”
“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”
“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”
Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”
“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.
“Had someone nut in your ass?”
You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”
You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.
“Have you done it without a condom?”
You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.
“Is this an interrogation?”
Yeonjun shrugs.
“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.
Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.
Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”
You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.
“Gotten fingered?”
“Well no shit.”
Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”
“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.
Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”
“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”
“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”
Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”
“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”
“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”
Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.
You shudder remembering the scene.
“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”
You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”
“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”
Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.
You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”
Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.
“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.
You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.
“But I want to.”
…What.
That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.
Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-
“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.
He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”
You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.
He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”
You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”
Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.
The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”
You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.
But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”
You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”
Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”
You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”
He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”
Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.
But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”
At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.
Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.
And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.
That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.
Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.
Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”
And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”
Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”
The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.
Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”
You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”
This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.
Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”
“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”
You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?
Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”
“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.
Fuck it.
You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.
Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”
You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.
The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”
Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.
You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.
“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.
You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”
You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.
"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.
"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.
Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"
You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.
Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.
You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.
“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.
Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”
“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.
His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.
Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.
You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”
You nod, humming.
“Words princess.”
“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”
He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.
You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.
And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.
“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”
You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.
“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.
You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.
Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.
“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”
Can you even take that in your mouth?
He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.
“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.
You think you might just faint.
“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.
But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.
You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.
“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”
Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”
You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.
It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.
He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.
Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.
“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”
You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.
To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.
#txt smut#beomgyu smut#yeonjun smut#yeonjun hard hours#beomgyu hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt hard hours#txt x reader#beomgyu hard thoughts#yeonjun hard thoughts#✶ ━━ rana ; answered
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: anon request - "Hi can u do one like should've stayed home but with Sam please and can u make it so they end up fighting about leaving and not wanting to leave and so the car ride home is silent leaving Colby feeling awkward until they get home then they make up after a little bit more arguing please please pleas thank u."
Warning: This one shot will get dark at parts and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder and such at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by and there will be a short SMUT scene at the end.
I also kinda changed around the ending a little bit, hope you don't mind!
Word count: 8.1K
"What's up guys. It's Sam and Colby."
You stand off to the side, watching as they do their intro, "Today." Sam presses his hands together and leans in, "We are at the Agatha Asylum, or better known as the worst place to be sent if you were already having a bad day."
"It's said that people who had, or thought to have had any kind of mental illness were sent here for-" Colby puts air quotes, "-help.. and they were punished by being chained to walls, stuck in cages, beaten, and most even faced death."
"We are here today to see if we can get some answers as to why the person in charge, John Agatha, would do something like this." Sam glances over at you, "We also have with us a very special guest, y/n."
You walk over, standing in between Sam and Colby and hold your hand up, "I don't know why I'm here. I hate asylums."
"You volunteered to handcuff yourself to the wall, remember?" Colby jokes and looks at you. You raise your eyebrows, "The fuck I did."
"Anyway." Sam tries not to laugh, "We are currently waiting on the owner of this asylum to get here so we can get a tour and get a feel for what we will be dealing with.." Sam looks over at the road, "I think that's them now."
A car pulls up and parks, stepping out is a man and women.
"Are you Mark and Cindy?" Colby asks walking over and the man nods, "Yes, are you Sam and Colby?" Sam holds his hand up, "I'm Sam, this is my girlfriend y/n and that's Colby."
You all say hello and they jump right into it, "So.." Cindy starts out, "This is Agatha Asylum." She motions towards the building behind the fence, "This is to keep anyone out, since we're trying to get it ready to present to the public, we have it blocked off so people don't get in without us knowing. Or we try to at least."
"Have people gotten in?" Colby asks and Mark nod, "Oh yeah. We eventually set up security cameras around the perimeter. The day we noticed a broken window and spray paint lids, actually."
"What kind of things happened here exactly?" Sam asks handing the camera to Colby.
Cindy blows air, "Oh gosh, anything from restraining the patients inhumanly to keeping them locked in cages that were maybe, if they were lucky, a little bigger than themselves."
You raise your eyebrows, "What the hell?"
Mark nods, "most of the women who came in were attacked by the staff if you know what I mean so I'm sure the women are angry. I mean, hell I would be too if I was stuck here."
"Have you guys had any thing happen to you?" Colby asks, "Like personally or maybe to someone you know that has come here."
Mark nods, "Yeah, I've had my tools messed with, moved. Cindy has been pushed down the steps, and one of my guys who are working with me on getting this ready, was pushed from his ladder."
"Pushed off a lad- oh shit." Sam shakes his head, "Is there anything we need to know before going in there? Like maybe who to try and get in contact with or what not to ask?"
"John Agatha. He's the one who ran this place. Many people have tried to contact him but they never got any real answers as to why." Cindy says, "Just make your intentions known, I know some of the spirits in there can get pretty mean, so just keep reminding them that you mean no harm."
"Has anyone stayed a full night here?" You ask and they laugh, "No."
"No?" Colby asks raising his eyebrows, "Looks like we have a challenge on our hands, guys." He looks over at you and Sam and Sam shakes his head, "I'm already shitting my pants, dude."
"You all will by the time it gets dark. It's a pretty active place during the day, don't get me wrong, but not only me, but from other groups that came through as well, said it's gets worse at night." Mark sighs, "So. Who's ready for the tour?"
"You guys have fun, I'm going home." Colby pretends to walk away before turning back around, "No, let's go before I really do change my mind."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"So this hallway leads you to where most of the women were held.." Cindy points to the right and then to the left, "Men were held that way."
"Is there any specific areas as to where the most activity happens?" Sam asks laying his hand on your back as he steps around you, "Where were the cages kept exactly?"
"This whole place, honestly. You're bound to get activity anywhere in here and there were at least two cages per room."
"Per room?" You raise your eyebrows, "How many were kept in a room at one time?"
"Two but some held up to four, depending on many were here and came in and what not." Mark says looking around. He stares down the hallway and Sam turns the camera, "Did you see something?"
"A shadow moved across then end of that hallway there." He points, "No taller than you." He motions to Colby and Colby shrugs, "Sorry. I'm just that fast."
He starts pretending to Sonic run in place. You laugh and shake your head, "You can't be serious at all can you?" He shakes his head, "Not when I'm scared shitless, no."
Mark and Cindy laugh and start walking down the hall way. They explain each room briefly, basically what it was used for until you finally reach an old wooden door that's laying on the floor.
"This is where they kept, what they called, the worst of the worst." Mark lifts the door, revealing a steep staircase, "Watch your step as you come down."
"This is a really odd basement entrance." Sam says handing the camera to Colby, "What the hell."
Mark and Cindy go down first, followed by Sam then you. He helps you down, coaching you through the steps until you reach the bottom.
"What you're not going to help me?" Colby asks looking over his shoulder at Sam. All of you start baby talking to Colby coaching him down the steps and he stands there with his lips pressed together, "Should have never said anything."
Sam takes the camera, making sure Colby is good before turning around, "What is up with freaking jail cells in the basements of these places?"
"Literally." You mumble as you wrap your arms around yourself, "It's so cold down here. Did they have any sort of heat at the time of this place being open?"
Mark shakes his head, "They had a fireplace over there but as you can see it got filled from the outside in so who knows when that happened."
There's a loud thud from upstairs and you jump, "the fuck?"
Colby points, "That sounded like the door lifted up and dropped back down." Sam nods, "Yeah yeah yeah."
"Very well could have been. Doors opening on their own is very common around here." Cindy says, "Especially the third floor, that's where lots of the killings happened."
"Why the third floor?" Colby asks, "Why not down here?"
"The patients ended up dying all over the place, but if they were ordered to be put out by John, they would drag them up the stairs, kill them then dump their bodies out of the back window, into what was said to be a big wagon and then taken about half a mile away and they would just burn them and then just cover the hole with dirt."
"That answers my question about what they do with the bodies." Sam cringes, "I can't even imagine that."
"The hauntings and activity started a year or two after the patients first started to die. So if you can, try to contact.. oh shit. Was was his name?" Cindy looks at Mark and he shakes his head, "Oh, you mean Warren Summers?"
She nods, "Yes! He was reported to be the first to die, they ruled his death an accident but we all know it wasn't."
"Well definitely try to contact him, find out some answers." Colby nods and mark motions, "Alright, I need to get out of here, this spot makes me feel sick."
"Whoa really?" Sam looks at Colby, "Do you feel okay?" Colby nods and Sam looks at you, "Do you feel alright?"
You nod your head, "I mean, I feel like there's pressure on my chest, but it's not like, oh my god I can't breathe, kinda pressure."
"Let's get out of here and we'll just start in the main lobby." Sam says as he walks you over to the stairs. You go up first, followed by Sam and he turns around, "Come on, Colby." His voice is high pitched, "You can do it!"
Colby glares up at him from mid stairs and shakes his head as he laughs, "Thanks buddy. I needed that."
Mark and Cindy make their way up and she points to you, "Are you sure they're the ones not together?"
You sigh and shrug, "Sometimes I feel like I'm in a competition." You laugh and look over at Colby who does the, I'm watching you, motion.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Alright, guys. We have the REM pod here, and we're going to start out easy tonight by starting in the lobby." Sam walks over to the desk, setting the pod down, "It was said that there was a receptionist here who just so happened to be John's wife, Mabel, so she had to known everything you'd think."
"Didn't mark say that she disappeared randomly one day and no one really looked for her?" You ask looking at Sam, and he nods, "Yeah yeah yeah, maybe she didn't know what was going on and when she started to find out he silenced her?"
"John Agatha was a very wealthy man at the time of his death, so it very well could be or he offed her because she knew he had money?" Colby shrugs, "I mean, there's really only one way to find out."
Colby leans forward, switching on the pod and testing it a few times before stepping back, "Ladies first." He smirks towards you and you roll your eyes playfully, "Okay. Hello, my name is y/n. I mean no harm, I'm just here to ask you a few questions if that's okay."
The pod lights up and you straight up slightly, "If it's okay that I ask, can you touch that little light for me again?"
It lights up and you look between Sam and Colby, "Okay." You look back, "Thank you. Am I speaking to the wife of John Agatha? Mabel. If so touch that light for me again."
A few seconds go by before the light goes off, "Thank you, Mabel."
Sam hands the camera to Colby, "Hello, Mabel, I'm Sam. I come with peace and the possibility of finding out what happened here. I'd like to ask you something too if that's okay."
The pod lights up and Sam takes a deep breath, "Did your husband.. end your life?"
Right after the pod lights up, it stops and there's a loud crash from slightly far away.
You all jump, yelling out cuss words. You lean around Sam the look down the hallway, "What the hell was that?"
"It sounded like something big fell, like you know those big metal carts the food trays are served on? It sounded like one of those and everything in it just falling out." Colby moves forward, "Should we go check it out?"
The rem pod lights up three times in a row and you all look back at it before looking at each other.
"My name is Colby, I mean no harm to you or anyone else here. Was that a warning? Should we not go look?" Colby asks and it lights up one time quickly, "Make that go off for me if that was a yes."
Instantly turns on.
"Fuck, okay." Colby turns to Sam, "What do we do?"
Sam shakes his head, "If we're being told not to go there, we shouldn't."
"That hasn't stopped us before." Colby chuckles slightly, "Y/n."
You're zoned out on the dark hallway where the sound came from, you know that Colby has the camera on you, but you can't acknowledge it.
You feel Sam's hand on you, pulling you back as your body is trying to go forward, "Hey, hey. Y/n. Look at me." Sam steps in front of you, breaking your stare and you shake your head slightly.
He looks up at Colby and back to you, "What just happened? Talk to me." Sam lays his hands on your cheeks and keeps your head straight, "Hey."
"I felt something calling me towards where the sound came from." You lay your hand on Sam's bicep, "It was weird."
"What the fuck." Sam whispers as he looks back up at Colby and he shrugs, "Okay, we'll just go to the left wing, give whatever that is, time to do whatever it needs to do."
Sam pulls you with him, as you still felt drawn.
"So something just took over y/n pretty much." Colby explains, "Y/n, what happened?" He points the camera on you and you laugh slightly, "Um, I don't really know.. like you know how when you're so tired you just zone out?"
They nod and you sigh, "It was like that, but I swear there was a figure standing there, watching us and I was just having some sort of stare down with him."
"You started walking towards it, then. Like what happened with that?" Colby follows up, "Like did it say anything?"
You shake your head, "I knew you had the camera on me, and I knew Sam was pulling me back, but no. Nothing was said, it just stood there watching us and I just felt like I needed to go there."
"John Agatha?" Sam whispers, "Could it- do you think it was him?" You shrug, "Maybe? I don't know, it was the same figure Mark saw I think.. he was really no taller than Colby."
"It had to be, maybe he's trying to tell us to get out or maybe.. with a sliver of luck, he wants to explain himself." Colby shakes his head, "I don't know, let's just avoid that area until we cover this side."
Colby grabs the pod, switching it off as he turns back towards you and Sam, "Are you okay like do you feel alright?"
You nod, even though you feel like you could puke, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."
Sam rubs your arm, "You sure?"
You nod again, "Yes, Sam. I'm sure."
He could tell something was off, but he trusted you. He knew you'd stop if you really couldn't handle it.
"Where to next?" You ask as you take his hand into yours. Sam squeezes your hand and points, "I figured we could go into the day room, that's where Paul Yellow allegedly killed his roommate."
"These two men specifically had beef with each other.." Colby starts out as he hands the camera to Sam who lets go of your hand to take it, "..it was said that they would always be stealing from each other and would always be trying to get one another in trouble, but no one would admit to it, so the staff basically let them handle it themselves and that's when Paul came into the day room with a hammer that he somehow found, and bludgeoned Frank to death."
"Yeah in front of everyone but the staff were basically the only, " sam turns the camera around to him, putting at quotes, "Sane ones here, so they covered it up basically by saying that Frank fell and that was that."
"Wasn't Paul taken by the staff and tortured?" You ask as you look over at Sam. He nods, "Pretty much, yes."
As Sam and Colby explain what you guys were going to do next, you walked over to the window, looking out into the old courtyard.
"Come over here."
You turn around, walking over to Sam, "What?" He looks at you confused, "What?" You look between him and Colby, "Didn't you just tell me to come over here?"
Sam looks up at Colby and back down to you, "No I was getting the EMF ready."
You motion towards the window, "I swear to god, you said, come over here, when I was standing at the window."
Colby's eyes go wide, "He didn't say that." He shakes his head, "Oh fuck."
"So if you didn't sa-"
The sound of, what you think, is a metal trash can sliding across the floor makes you stop talking. It's quick, but you all hear it.
"Something just got drug or pushed across the floor." Sam whispers, "Fuck, fuck, okay. Let's get this thing going.." he turns on the EMF and you all step back.
"I'm y/n. I come in peace, I just want to ask a few questions. Paul Yellow, did you tell me to come over here?" You bite down on your cheek, waiting for the device to give you an answer.
"Were you over by the window with me?" You ask and it lights up green, "was it Paul?"
It lights up red.
"Are we talking to Frank?" Colby asks and it lights up green, "Did Paul kill you?"
Lights up red.
"Was it someone else?" Sam asks trying to keep the camera still and he looks over at you when it lights up green.
"Who else co-" you stop, "Was it one of the staff, Frank?"
Instant green.
"One of the staff did it then blamed Paul?" Colby looks shocked and he jumps slightly as it lights up green, "Holy shit, dude."
"I wonder if they've had anyone figure this out." Sam asks and he turns around, "Did you hear that?" You lean around to look, listening for the sound. Sam looks back, "It sounded like someone was walking and dragging their hand along the wall."
The sound Sam explained happened again and you look up at him, "That?" Sam nods, "Exactly that."
"Something is following us." Colby says quietly, "It has to be."
The EMF lights up green and you all look at each other, "Is it John Agatha?" You glance back at the EMF, "All you need to do is-"
It lights up green and you sigh, "Thank you." A thump against the wall makes you jump, "I don't think he likes being told what to do." You joke which makes Colby laugh, Sam just shakes his head.
"You good, bro?" Colby pushes his arm and looks at him. Sam smiles slightly, "Yeah, no I'm good."
You find yourself being pulled into that stare again, this time it's in the corner of the day room, but nothing is there.
"Colby. Colby." Sam says as he grabs you by the waist. You try to pull away from him, but he wraps his arm around you, "Y/n. Snap out of it, come on."
You lean back into him, "There's something over there."
"You aren't going over there alone." He fights back as he switches his flash light on, revealing just the ripped wallpaper, "See. Nothing."
"There was." You turn around, "he was watching us."
"Who? John?" Colby asks and the EMF lights up green, "Maybe we should try the-" the loud crashing sound makes him stop talking instantly.
"You don't think people got in here do you?" Sam tightens his grip on your waist, "We tweeted about coming here.. so like.."
"They have cameras all around the perimeter they said, and I'm sure they would have told us if they saw something." Sam says as he pulls his phone out, "Let me call Mark, see if he can tell me if there was anything outside."
As Sam calls mark, you close your eyes, resting your head back on his shoulder. Colby walks up, squeezing your arm, "You still with us?"
You open your eyes, nodding, "Yeah I just got really dizzy."
Sam looks down at you and puts the phone on speaker, "There was nothing outside?"
"Not since you went back inside." Mark says on the other end of the phone, "If you do decide to leave just make sure you lock the gate and we can get the key tomorrow."
"Alright, yeah. We'll let you know." Sam says and they end the call, "So it's just us in here." He looks down at you, "Are you okay?"
You nod and stand up, "Yeah, I'm good."
"You're not dizzy anymore?" He brushes hair from your face and you shake your head, "No I'm good."
"I'm thinking we move from here and we go to the third floor." Colby walks over and Sam stops you from following him, "We can leave if this is too much."
"Sam. I'm fine. I promise."
"I don't like the way you just zone out and try to walk away. That's not like you, that isn't you." His eyes scan over your face and you weren't sure if it was the place effecting you, but you just wanted to keep going, "Something is drawing us to that hallway."
"What do you mean?" Sam shakes his head, "Y/n, I don't want you out of my sight, this place is too big and too dark for you to just go off away from us."
"Then put me on a leash or something, because I'm not done here."
You've never spoken to Sam like that. Ever. So when you said it, you were both surprised, "I'm.. sorry, I don't know where that came from."
"My point exactly." Sam chews on his lip, trying to tell himself over and over again that this place is a lot more powerful than they thought.
"What's going on? You guys okay?"
"Yes." You say the same time Sam says, "No."
Colby looks between the two of you then back to Sam. Sam sighs, "This place obviously has a hold over you, y/n. So everything is not okay."
"What-" Colby starts but you cut him off, looking directly at Sam, "Sam. This is what we do. you can't expect me to just back out every time something hap-"
Sam cuts you off, "Yours being pulled by what we can only assume is a dark entity. How do you expect me to act? Just let you walk off into the sunset with it? No. No thanks."
"Guys, come on.. just take a deep breath. There's absolutely no need to argue." Colby tries to settle the situation but it only seemed to fire up the ghosts because it sounds like a table is lifted then dropped back down.
Sam instantly grabs you, pulling you to him, "You're staying close."
You don't put up any more of a fight, knowing that Sam would drag you out himself if he had to, "Fine."
You knew he was right. As soon as you seen the figure in the hallway, something switched and it was like you needed to follow it.
And you didn't know why.
"Why don't we just go there?" Colby says as you guys leave the day room, "Where the sound happened. If it gets bad we can just leave, we always have that option."
You knew Colby wanted to stay, too, but he was also worried about Sam because he was worried about you, "What do you want to do, Sam?"
Sam thinks for a moment before sighing, "If you zone out one more time and try to walk away from us, we're leaving."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The investigation went on to be better than you guys thought. Nothing happened to you. Nothing happened to them, you thought that maybe your small argument with Sam helped, but you'd soon come to find out that was not true at all.
"So as you guys could see, there hasn't really been much activity going on, probably for the last hour or two." Colby says and motions towards the spirit box, "We brought this to the third floor, hoping to see if we can figure out what exactly happened to some of the patients."
Sam sets the camera down on the one table, angling it towards you guys and the box, "Okay, we'll sit this right here and.." Sam stands up and turns around, "Did you touch me?"
You shake your head, "We've been over here."
"My whole body like shifted and it felt like someone's hand on my side." He lays his hand right where he felt it, "like right here exactly." Colby walks over and Sam demonstrates on him what he felt.
"fucking hell that's creepy." Colby shakes his head, "You know when we were walking up the stairs, it felt like someone else was behind us."
"I thought I heard someone whistle or whisper, I don't know.. it was like a quiet high pitched sound, but I couldn't make out if it was a word or not." You look around, "This floor honestly makes me nervous, and those creepy steps didn't help."
"Those stairs the whole way up I just kept thinking about how people were actually getting dragged up and sown." Sam shakes his head, "let's just.. get this thing going."
Sam was off, and you picked up on it quickly. It was almost like what took over you, took over Sam.
"Sam?" You step towards him, "Sam... Colby.. colby."
He stares at the floor and Colby walks up to him, "Sam, dude. Hey."
You shake him slightly and he looks back up, "Let's get this thing going."
You look at Colby and back to Sam, "You already said that." He looks at you confused, "Huh?" He laughs nervously, "No I didn't."
Colby nods, "You did, man. You zoned out after, looking at the floor."
Sam looks at you, "Did it come after me now?"
You shrug, "I was thinking that, because isn't that what I did?" You look at Colby and he nods, "yes but the only thing is he didn't try to walk off."
Sam switches the box on, "What do you want with us?"
"... I want ... to know.."
"You want to know what?" Colby asks loudly, "did you take over y/n and Sam?"
"... Miss.. it ..."
"You miss what?" You ask, "Do you miss being alive?"
" ... alive ..."
"You are not welcome to touch us. You cannot control us." Sam says, "What do you want us to see?"
"... the... truth .. in here .."
"Were you murdered here?" Colby asks and it sounds like something bouncing down the steps, "Was that you making that noise?"
"... must get ... out..."
"Are you telling us to get out? Or do you want to get out?" Sam presses his fingers to his lips, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"
"... he's in.. here .."
"Who? Who is in here?" You ask staring at the box, "Can you tell us who is here with us?"
" ... John .. murder .."
"John and murder?" Colby looks at you guys, "Did John murder you? Were you murdered by John Agatha?"
"... liar .. he lies ..."
"Did John lie about your death?" You ask and step closer to Sam, "What did he do to you?"
"... tried to run.."
"Did you try and escape? Did he punish you for that?" Colby asks and jumps next to you when the door to the one room slams shut, "Who is here with us? Reveal your name to us."
"... John .. is mad..."
"Is he mad that we're here trying to find out what he did?" You ask and Sam looks at you, "I think we should stop."
You felt the need to keep going, "Can he come in here with us?"
"Y/n." Colby looks at you then to Sam, jumping as heavy footsteps come down the hallway, "Sam's right." Colby reaches to switch off the spirit box, but you stop him, "Just wait."
Sam nods at him, chewing on his lip as the footsteps start again.
"John Agatha. If you're here, tell us why you killed those people." You glance towards the door, only to snap your head back to the box,
"... they needed to die ..."
"No they didn't. They were sick." You argue and Sam pulls you back, "That's enough." You push away from him, "Sam. We're getting answers."
"No, you're arguing with something that we're unsure of. You don't know the power of this thing. " Sam runs a hand through his hair, "I think we're done. I don't like this-"
"Colby do you want to leave?" You look at Colby and he holds his hands up, "I think I'm with Sam on this one."
You roll your eyes, "Of course you do."
"Y/n. What the hell has gotten into you?" Sam looks at you shocked, "You have never acted this way during one of these and that's why we're done." He grabs your wrist, holding onto you, "We are done here."
"... no .."
Sam shakes his head and turns off the box, "I'm not doing this. We can talk about this at home."
You turn around, finding Colby no where in the room, "Colby?" You call out, "Sam. Colby is gone." Sam's heart starts to race, "Fuck, yo Colby?"
No answer.
"Fuck. Fuck. Come on." He hands you the camera, and turns on his flashlight, yelling for Colby as you make your way to the stairs.
"Careful, careful." Sam makes sure you make it down okay before stopping at the bottom, "You don't think he went to the basement did you?"
"Or where the sound came from? That's where I was feeling drawn to." You look around, sighing, "Fuck. Fuck. Colby?!"
You hear a loud thump come from where the first crash happened, "We have to." You look at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, yeah. I know." He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls you with him.
You both yell out for Colby, looking for any kind of sign, "Colby? Come on this isn't funny." Your voice kinda breaks as your fear builds up faster and faster.
"Colby. Come on man, we're leaving." Sam yells out and you stop when you see a metal cart laying on its side, old trays spilling out from the door that is open.
"He was right, that's what that sound was earlier when we started." Sam shines the flashlight on it and looks up, "Colby?"
"Wait." You stop Sam, "Isn't John's office over here?"
His eyes go wide, "Fuck, yeah it is." He turns towards the walkway, "Colby!?"
You perk up, "Wait. I think.." you whisper, "Yell out to him again."
"Colby?!"
"This way." You pull Sam down the hall, half preparing yourself for when Colby jumps out and scares you both, or at least you're hoping that's what he's doing.
"Colby? Please." You beg, hoping you can find him.
"If we just left when I said.."
You stop, cutting Sam off, "No. we aren't playing the blame game because right now our friend is lost and we have no idea where he is."
"Where who is?" Colby walks up, and you Sam let out a scream.
"Where the fuck did you go?" Sam yells, "You just up and left us dude. Why?"
"You guys were arguing and I thought I heard someone in the hallway, so I came out to see and then I was halfway down the steps. I thought I saw people, like teenagers run to the left and my first instinct was to just go." Colby explains, "I don't know dude. Really, I was running and then I was like wait, I'll get lost so I turned around and now we're here."
"You could have been hurt, Colby." You push his shoulder and he just shrugs.
"Sorry man." Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, "last I knew you were right behind us."
He nods, "it's fucking crazy. This place is a maze, and I don't mean physically either."
"Let's just.. go get the stuff and head out to the car." Sam sighs, pointing the camera to Colby, "We found him. He says there were people here but we aren't sure about anything, and I mean that about this whole entire place."
"I don't even know how to describe it other than what y/n said. Like that tired feeling and then I wasn't where I remember I was." Colby explains and you nod, "Yeah like you can tell what you're doing but you aren't focused on what you're doing."
"Alright well I think that's it for-" Sam stops talking and looks behind him, "There was just.. three knocks." He whips around looking at you guys when it happens again, "that.. that.."
"What the hell is that?" Colby whispers and you're pushed towards the way the office is, "Do not touch me. Do not touch any of us." You hold your hand up, "Fuck."
"Y/n. We need to go." Colby steps towards you and you shake your head, "we can't leave."
"We aren't arguing again, y/n." Sam walks towards you and when he goes to grab your hand, he's pushed back.
Colby snaps his head towards the hall, "Someone just said don't touch her." He looks at Sam, "I swear to god dude. A clear as day whisper like right behind me."
You feel something grab your hair and lift it off of your shoulder. You jump and brush a hand over, "Something just played with my hair."
"We're leaving."
As you go to collect the equipment, that's when things take a turn for the weird.
"So, maybe Colby was right. We heard things..." Sam says as he tries to control his breathing, "We aren't sure what it was exactly, right now we're just ducked down behind this desk thing."
"That's what I heard earlier, but you'd think if it was actual people they'd make a lot more noise than just footsteps, right?" Colby whispers leaning in towards you and Sam. Sam's grips on your hand tightens as the foot steps grow closer.
They stop abruptly and Colby stands up, "There's no one here." Sam pulls your arm, "Let's just make a run for it."
You guys book into the door, breathing heavy as Colby closes it with a slam. Sam pulls you away from the building, "you okay?"
You nod, "Yeah, yeah are you?" He nods and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly.
"That was fucking crazy." Colby says walking around you guys, "I've never experienced anything like that. Like we were affected in a way we can't really explain in depth."
"This doesn't feel finished, though." You pull away from Sam and he stares at you, "What?"
You look between him and Colby, "Exactly what I said."
And you meant that. You wanted to come back here, get more answers about this asylum. You knew more happened here than what people have said.
"You're going to really stand here, and tell me that you want to go back in there." Sam scoffs, "Even after what you had happen? What I had happen? Christ, y/n, Colby went missing for god knows how long."
He puts his hands on his head and spins around slowly, trying to comprehend as to why you'd want to.
"Because there's more in there, more stuff that people don't know and I want to be the one to find out exactly what it is." You point to the building and drop your hand, "If you don't want to then I'll come back myself."
"The fuck you will." Sam shakes his head, "Y/n. You could have been the one lost. You could have been the one lost in there, alone.. and I don't-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "You're not coming back here and I mean that."
"Why don't we -"
"Stay out of this, Colby." You and Sam say looking over at him.
He holds his hands up and walks over to the car while you and Sam still argue.
"You didn't know what you were doing, y/n. Okay? You could have easily got lost." Sam looks at you and you shrug, "But I didn't."
He stares at you a few moments before shaking his head, "The only reason you want to come back here is because whatever is on the other side of that door is making you want to come back."
You clench your jaw, knowing that he's right but since you're fighting, you don't want to let him win easy.
"That place changed you." Sam says lowly, "We have never, ever fought like this, we've never fought at all. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Never said it didn't, Sam." You mumble as you walk towards the car, getting into the back. You glance over, seeing Sam bend down slightly before kicking the rocks on the ground and walking over to get in the passenger seat of the car.
"Home?" Colby asks starting the car.
You and Sam both mumble a low, "Mhm." Colby takes a deep breath and starts to drive out of the gate, "I have to lock up. Don't kill each other." He gets out, jogging up to shut the gate.
Sam glances back at you and you look at him. He sighs, "I'm still mad, but I love you."
You try not to smile, "I love you."
Colby gets back into the car, "Did you guys makeup yet?" You both refuse to answer and he laughs sarcastically to himself, "Oh this is going to be such a wonderful quiet ride home."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"We have like half an hour left, do you want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?" Colby looks at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, that works." He looks back at you, "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah." You say lowly with a slight nod.
"Are we finally speaking to each other?" Colby acts surprised, "Wow. It's about time."
You roll your eyes and Sam scoffs, "I'm mad, that doesn't mean I don't care about her still."
You smile slightly, looking away from him so he doesn't see it. You get out of the car and go to walk in but Colby stops you, "We weren't us back there. Don't hold it over his head."
"Tell that to him." You mumble and he nods, "I plan to, trust me. I just got to you first." You laugh as you walk in to the store and Colby walks up to Sam, telling him the same thing he told you.
As you're standing there, looking at the snacks, you feel hands slides around your waist and pull you back, "You know.."
"What do I know?" You ask as your nails gently graze over his hands, "Even though you pissed me off.." his voice goes quiet, "The way you argued with the ghost was such a turn on."
You smirk and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Is that your way of saying you're sorry?" He bites his bottom lip as he looks at you, "I'll say it when we get home."
He winks at you and leans in to kiss you. You slide your fingers in his hair, humming against his lips slightly.
Colby walks up, "Now that's what I like to see."
You and Sam pull away and look at him. He has a big cheesy smirk on his face and you can't help but laugh, "What would we do without him?"
Colby buts in, "Oh i don't know, probably give each other the silent treatment until days from now."
Sam chuckles and sighs, "That wasn't any of us back there." You look up at him, "Yeah.. that was bad."
Colby nods, "I've never seen you act the way you did, y/n. Honestly it was kinda badass. Arguing with a potential demon."
Sam nods, looking down at you. You look up at him, "I learned from the best."
You grab your snacks and head out to the car, getting into the back as they get up front, "So now that this is no longer a quiet ride home, and I am no longer feeling awkward, can we please talk about what happened?"
"Mhm. Yeah sure." Sam mumbles as he stares down at his phone. Colby looks over at him before he starts driving, "What are you doing?"
You phone vibrates and you see a message from Sam, "Colby don't look at his phone. I beg you."
"Why can be so-" he reads over the message that was sent from Sam's phone, you've had me low key turned on this entire night, when we get home I'm going to show you just how sorry I am.
"Well, okay." Colby sits forward, "That awkward part is back."
You laugh, replying to Sam, just how are you going to do that?
Colby clears his throat, "Can we.." he laughs, "Can you stop sexting each other for one second so we can do the outro please?"
You sigh, resting your phone down on the seat next to you, "anything for princess Colby." He lays his hand under his chin, "As it should be."
You and Sam both laugh and he gets the camera rolling, "We are currently on our way home. Tonight was.." Sam sighs and looks at Colby, "I don't even know how to explain it."
"A big mess." You laugh and Colby sighs, "It was definitely something like that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we were .. taken over basically."
"Yeah, yeah no. That part was absolutely fucked up. I luckily didn't have it happen like y/n or Colby did, but it was still a surreal feeling to have people telling you that you zoned out with absolutely no recollection of it at all." Sam points his thumb back to you, "And then you got Mrs I like to argue with ghosts back here, but that's a story we'll post on our other channel, maybe, who knows, but we are done for tonight, like I said, it was a whirlwind of events and we are so excited for you guys to see what we experienced tonight at the Agatha Asylum."
"Drop a like if Mrs I like to argue with ghosts should be made into a sweatshirt." Colby gives a thumbs up and Sam yells, "Ayyyy yes. Y/n." He points the camera to you, "How would you like to have your own collection."
"That would be pretty sick." You smile and nod, "I actually like that a lot."
Sam points the camera to himself, "Well have to work on it. See you guys in the next one."
Sam cuts the camera off, "Mrs I like to argue with ghosts." He laughs and looks back at you, "I'm getting you a hoodie that says that."
You smile and nod, "I'll wear it everyday."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Have fun. I'll be down here editing away from all the noise." Colby says as he grabs his laptop off the counter.
Without any hesitation, Sam grabs your hand and up the stairs you go, laughing with him as you try to keep up.
You run into the room you share, falling on the bed with him on top of you, "You drive me insane, but always in the best way." His lips press to yours as his hand pulls your head close to him.
You drag his sweatshirt up his back, telling him you want it off. He leans up, slipping it off in one perfect motion and you pull him back down to kiss you.
He grinds himself against you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you." You moan slightly, shaking your head, "We weren't us." You cup his face, "This is us."
He smiles and kisses you again. You quickly grow into a heated make out, clawing the rest of each other clothes off and slipping under the blankets.
"If I ever yell at you like that again, just sacrifice me to the demons, babe." He chuckles slightly, brushing hair from your face before sliding his hand down to pull you closer.
"I'd be coming with you. We're inseparable." You nudge your nose against his and he nods, "Damn right we are."
He rolls on top of you, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy, "You were so.." he lets out a low moan as he slips his cock into you, "..fucking hot back there.."
He pushes his hips to meet yours, "You always amaze me."
You run your hand through his hair, biting down on your lip as he starts to thrust, "Fuck.." you whimper and look up at him, "I'd do anything to protect you."
"I'd die for you." He stares at you for a few seconds, still thrusting deep and slow, "I mean that wholeheartedly. You mean the most to me and I'd do anything to keep you safe."
You smile and lay a hand on his cheek, "I love you."
He kisses your lips, whispering a low, "I love you."
He leans up a little bit, "Now roll over so I can punish you for yelling at me." He winks and gives you a cocky smirk before pulling out. You smirk as your stomach does an excited flip.
You roll over onto your stomach and Sam's body is immediately on yours, his cock back in to where it was before, "I wanted to shut you up in anyway I could."
You moan as he thrusts slow, "Why didn't you?"
"Would have had to cut a lot of the footage out." Sam says lowly in your ear, "Plus I don't really want Colby seeing how pretty you look while you're gagging on my dick."
Your eyes roll back as he pushes all the way in, "Because you my love, are fucking gorgeous."
You grip the sheets, moaning as his hand slides around to your throat, squeezing as he whispers, "Or how pretty you look while I'm in between those legs.."
"S-Sam." You squeeze his cock with your walls, "Fuck, I-I'm so close."
"Go ahead, baby." Sam groans lowly, "Fuck, I'm not going to last much longer either." He hooks his thumb over your bottom jaw and you immediately suck.
He moans lowly, pounding into you, "That's my girl."
You moan around his thumb, trying to move your hips but you can't go anywhere. Your moans are growing louder as you reach your point, squeezing him as you claw at the sheets.
"Come on, baby." He pleads, "Cum for me."
You whimper and moan his name over and over again, letting your head fall back as you cum, "Fuck fuck fuck."
Sam suddenly pulls out, his cum spilling on your back, "Fuck, babe." you let your head fall forward, resting on the bed as your breathing is heavy.
"You okay?" Sam asks getting up to get you a towel. You look back at him, "Oh yeah. I'm so much better."
He smiles and shakes his head, "You know, I wonder how much of us arguing was actually caught on camera."
"Probably all of it, Sam. And if I'm being honest, it'll probably turn me on again." You roll over once he wipes you off and smirk up at him.
"You too, huh?" He smiles as he bites his bottom lip as you nod, "Uh huh. Very much." He pulls you up so you're standing in front of him, "I really don't want to yell at you again, but if it's something that'll get you going then.." he leans in, kissing you, "then we might just have to work something out."
You suddenly hear Colby yelling, "Oh shit. No fucking way!"
You quickly throw on clothes and run down, "What? What? What!?" Sam asks going over, you hand still in his, "Bro what the fuck is that?"
"That my friend is what was controlling us tonight." Colby turns the laptop towards you and Sam and you gasp, "That's exactly what I saw."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
#sam Golbach#sam golbach x you#sam golbach dirty one shots#sam and colby#sam and colby smut#colby brock#sam and colby one shots#dirty one shot#one shot smut#smut#sam Golbach x reader#adventures with sam and colby#anon request#sam golbach one shots#sam golbach and colby brock#sam Golbach smut#sam and colby smut one shots#smut one shots#smut writer#xplr#xplr sam golbach#xplr club
965 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yay! I'm so happy you write for Baldwin IV!!! Could you do general yandere headcanons for him? Thank you!💗
''Nothing is more important to me than you.'' — Baldwin IV.
❝ 📜 — lady l: I got a little excited, but I hope you like it. I've always wanted to write for him and I finally got the chance! Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, manipulation (sorta of), unhealthy relationships.
❝📜pairing: yandere!king baldwin iv/leper king x gender neutral!reader.
Baldwin had always been shy in his obsession with you, always self-aware of his illness that had left him forever disfigured. He was afraid that you would find him disgusting, that you would hate him and he didn't want that. Baldwin couldn't handle it if you hated him. He wanted to be loved by you, but he was too afraid to talk to you directly for quite some time.
So he remained in the shadows, hidden and longing for you from afar. Even before becoming King, he already dreamed of you and these desires only became more frequent after he became sovereign. He was precocious and maintained a good shape and physical appearance and was optimistic about his illness, but as he grew older he felt increasingly disturbed by the idea of you hating or despising him.
That doesn't mean he ignored you, Baldwin never did that and never will. He can't bear to be away from you, at least not physically, and he can't even go without talking to you. Talking to you was what cheered him up when his mind was consumed by dark thoughts. You were his light.
Baldwin will make sure that once he becomes King, he can ensure that you are well, that you are living well and with the honor, the wealth that you deserve, in his domain. He will do everything in his power to make sure you are eating well and will even go so far as to offer you an official position, if you don't already have one, so he can take care of you.
Although he prefers to stay away so he can also protect you from his illness, that doesn't mean he will allow you to be taken away from him. You may not know it, but you belonged to him. Any love interests or potential suitors/lovers will be quickly and quietly dealt with. Baldwin is not cruel and does not intend to be, but he will become a monster for you.
If he could, Baldwin would marry you, but due to his illness, he is prevented from doing so, so he prefers to keep you close while giving important positions to you or your family. It's a way of ensuring the loyalty of those important to you and having you close by. There are only benefits from his perspective.
Baldwin is remembered and admired for being a competent king who brought prosperity to the Kingdom of Jerusalem, but little is known that the real motivation was you. It was you who held power over him, who influenced him to do anything you wanted. He could become a tyrant if you asked him to. But he feels proud of himself for having met your expectations for his government.
When he has to go out to protect and defend Jerusalem, Baldwin will probably take you with him. He could leave you to take care of State affairs, but he can't bear to be away from you. He is quite clingy although he doesn't always touch you physically, he still needs to be in your presence. It's a constant need, Baldwin feels like a part of his heart withers when he's away from you.
Baldwin may not be able to be with you the way he would like and this has only served to increase his possessive tendencies. He won't allow other people to get too close to you, to steal you from him. Even though you can't officially be his, that doesn't mean he'll let you be someone else's. He will have no problem sending the person who threatens his position in your life to a deadly skirmish, arrest or even executed.
He is neither cruel nor sadistic, but for your sake he will be willing to commit the most heinous crimes just to ensure that you remain by his side. Baldwin needs you like he's never needed anyone before and he knows he'll be destroyed if anything happens to you.
If it were to happen to him, Baldwin will make sure you are safe and protected, perhaps even naming you his Heir. He wouldn't want to leave Earth without you, but he's not selfish enough to want to kill you. He wants you to live a long and happy life, preferably single, even if he's not by your side. He is completely selfless and you will always come first for him. First you and then his duties.
There is nothing he wouldn't do or give to you. Titles, official positions, riches, clothes, jewelry and food in abundance, anything you wanted, he would do it in the blink of an eye. Baldwin trusts you blindly, going so far as to obey your orders on any issue, from food to military matters.
Baldwin IV is a great soft for you and you only. He may seem weak, but that's all he isn't. He is intelligent and knows how to make rational decisions and he will do that with you. Because he loves you, he depends on you and because you are his hope. His light. Don't leave him or Baldwin will go crazy and even go so far as to commit suicide if you abandon him.
You are his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.
#yandere history#history#yandere historical characters#yandere baldwin iv x reader#yandere baldwin iv#yandere baldwin iv headcanons#baldwin iv x reader#leper king x reader#yandere headcanons#headcanons#dark!baldwin iv
941 notes
·
View notes
Text
I fucking hate BNHA
The last panel about "granma is here" in fact further proves my point on another post of how empty and nonsensical BNHA became in the last arc because AfO wanting Tomura from the very beginning made impossible for him to be saved anyway, which means all his beef with the heroes became unjustified and his speech about violence and heroes and villains held no importance in the end. Why?
Because you cannot have a character built over the premise that society was so corrupt and selfish that put a little boy in the bad bad villain's reach for 5 arcs, to then say "oh, wait. He was fucked anyway because the bad bad guy was behind everything all along"
A bad bad guy not even all might in his prime could defeat, so it doesn't matter if people would or wouldn't help others. "It's all bad bad guy's fault anyway and he's practically immortal." Perfect, now we know granma didn't stand a chance against AfO, he planned this.
The whole idea of a society that relies on heroes too much instead of everyone doing their part from kindness falls like a house of cards if you have an evil so corrupt that none of said kindness will mean a thing. The moment Horikoshi went from "Tomura was found by AfO" to "Tomura was planned by AfO" the core theme of his series crumbled down. The league as a device lost its meaning, the characters that composed it became unjustified because whatever motivation they had was in fact a manipulation from the greater evil. And this applies to everyone.
What's the point in Toga and Twice calling out the lack of help for people with mental illness and problematic quirks if the message still is "If you do bad things out of despair no one will help you and you'll get killed." And yes, Toga died loved, Toga wanted to be loved, but she didn't wanted to die?? She was literally an abandoned child who found a family and ended up dying giving blood to the same girl she stabbed. And yeah, it's kinda poetic she died giving blood instead of taking it, but what was the point if she doesn't get to know she's loved? Further more, are we really to believe Ochako loved Toga? A girl she literally didn't know. Sorry, but once I got lost in a mall and a police officer helped me find my mom, that doesn't mean the officer loved me. And yeah, Ochako tried her best to be a good hero, but it's not about what the characters do, it's what the story tells you it happens with what they do. The story just told you the ill and abandoned die in the end before anyone helps them. And they die hunted by the police.
What's the point of Touya as a whole? oh, wait. I know, it must be very awful for Endeavor to be such a bad person, his child ended up incapacitated. Very hard on Endeavor. Fuck Dabi being turned into a piece of charcoal, IT'S HARD ON HIS DAD.
What's the point in Spinner pointing out discrimination and people following him if in the end we got that he should have stayed in his lane, in his room, friendless because he only went out to be seen by someone who accepted him, just to have that person tortured in front of him before he was killed. And for what? For a teen to tell him "Yo, bro. I punched your bestie to death, make a comic about it. Btw you'll be staying in jail forever. So so sorry for you guys." Proving once again, murder is okay if you are on the right side of the story. No matter how much compassion, Tomura showed Spinner, or how much he suffered through life. Heroes had the right to kill him, and there was nothing Spinner (who legit loved his friend) could do about it because AfO had taken over. Again, another good character turned pointless, with a pointless point of view, with a pointless conclusion because he can tell the story of Tomura Shigaraki all he wants FROM JAIL, but under the public eye Tomura will go down as an insane mass murderer either way since looking at him in any other light would inevitably make a target of Izuku for killing him and that won't happen. You cannot have "the best hero ever" and "he killed this dude that was kinda right" in the same sentence. It doesn't make sense.
Not to mention his case against discrimination went nowhere since everyone who followed him became a villain and the only person who actually makes a point about discrimination ends up being Deku on another, totally different chapter that had nothing to do with Spinner. And...he's a hero so he can say whatever he wants, we go back to "questioning bad, unless a hero says it" and "people are really that horrible in BNHA universe".
Tomura's case it's even more fucked because even when he said he didn't want a future, every single wish he had fell flat. His hatred for not being saved as a child proved to be out of anyone's control, his desire to destroy society didn't land because nothing really changed. There are still schools for child soldiers, and people are still not questioning the violence heroes use to keep the status quo, and certainly no one is wondering how is that a couple of heroes were able to kill a couple of villains (because so far Hawks still has a job). His friends ended up dead or locked away, and the child in him that begged to be saved ended up...being not.
In the end, we got a suffering festival for Tomura, from his granma being pushed to drop her kid, his dad being tricked, his parents getting killed in front of him, Mon-chan and Hana's memory squeezed dry and young Tenko asking for help while Tomura was assaulted by his creepy guardian for 200 chapters straight just to tell us that Deku at sixteen was a great hero for putting a twenty one-year-old dissociated guy out of his misery like a euthanized dog. And for what? To finish a guy who was infatuated with his dead brother AND THAT COULD HAVE BEEN EXECUTED IN JAIL LIKE...300 CHAPTERS AGO, since the manga already made the point that villains can be executed with little repercussion, and it can be justified if said villain it's a threat. Then...why was AfO alive to begin with? Oh, I guess this is something we can trust to a 16 year old instead of... the government or whatever.
And yeah, these are tragic figures, they certainly are, but you can hardly claim that they achieved anything in the end because the first premise of the league, why it was formed and why they joined was
To live as we want/are.
And now they are dead, or locked away, or bedridden crispy for something that was planted by someone else from the very beginning. And what they believed didn't change anything in the end because it's not like the public saw them do something meaningful but, again, they are being told what to believe, by whom? BY THE HEROES. Are we really arguing that Iguchi's comic will change society? ARE WE FOR REAL????? Have you ever read the story of Jesus Christ? he died for our sins by Marvel.
And on top of that as the last nail in the coffin to prove that NOTHING changed, Hawks really said rebranding + target audience =📈🤙🏼 StOnKS✨
I wish I was joking.
#Iguchi it's about to make a lot of money if he sells the rights of his story to Disney#bnha critical#bnha leaks#my two cents I'm rambling this is incredible
247 notes
·
View notes
Text
Making jokes and laughing about a frightening experience does NOT mean someone does not appreciate the gravity of a situation. Quite the contrary, in fact - it is a very, very common way of processing trauma.
In fact, I can't offhand think of any traumatized people I know who haven't make a joke about their traumatic experience/s. It's a deeply normal, human thing to do.
(And please don't try to tell me Aziraphale seeing Crowley be kidnapped and then being hit over the head with a crowbar (?), violently kidnapped himself, and dragged to hell, and then seeing the awful people and place Crowley had been stuck with for the past 100k+ years, witnessing the usher being murdered in cold blood before his eyes, and wondering if the same thing might happen to him, and/or if he hell was going to discover his and Crowley's secret, not to mention seeing for probably the first time what exactly the thermos of holy water would have done to Crowley if he'd used it, wasn't traumatic. First of all, that just is. Second of all, look at his irises. He was probably having a bit of fun - not surprising considering how relieved he was that the holy water didn't work on him and hell appeared not to have caught onto the deception; of course you'd be a bit giddy - but he was also terrified and scarred and angry and disgusted and I don't even know what else.)
There's a reason the rates of depression found among comedians are off-the-charts. And it's not because humor causes depression (we know it actually alleviates it). It's because traumatized people and people with mental illness (I mean, the Venn diagram between those groups is basically a circle, but y'know) gravitate to humor. It is one of the most powerful weapons we have to ward off despair. Humor can save us when nothing else can.
It can also stop you from wanting to punch someone when you're really, really angry. I propose that we can see smoldering contempt and fury and outrage and disgust on Aziraphale's face at the end of the scene, hidden just under that cheeky grin. It's some masterful acting work by Tennant, so many emotions going on at the same time.
Also - may I point out that Crowley loved Aziraphale's jokes about the whole thing. Aziraphale knows how to cheer Crowley up. A big part of the reason he was so sarcastic in hell was for Crowley, to score some points against the people who have been oppressing him for millennia without him ever being able to answer back. (And also he was acting that way because he figured it was how Crowley would act and he had to be convincing. If he'd gone in there and hadn't been 100% confidence and swagger, hell would have noticed something was off. They're paranoid, and Beelzebub, at least, is smart. No flies on that one. Heh, heh. Did Aziraphale overplay it a bit? Maybe. But the deception worked, so clearly his approach was correct overall.)
And finally: Don't tell me Crowley wasn't having a little fun with all this, too. His laugh on the bench was sincere:
He could arguably also be accused of overplaying it a bit with the neck cracking (which I don't blame him for; I would have done the same - but I don't see anyone getting mad at him for having a little fun the way they did with Azi):
And he LOVED getting to breathe fire at Gabriel & Co.
Which is exactly as it should be. :)
#cw: trauma#cw: implied ptsd#cw: implied cptsd#mental health#cw: mental illness#good omens#goodomens#aziraphale#badaziraphaletakes#ineffable husbands#ineffablehusbands#aziracrow
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
Persona 5 fandom, I beg of you, please stop with the casual (and likely very unintentional) ableism. This is less about one specific person and an overall trend I see whenever people post bad takes on Akechi.
Going "Akechi is a murderous psychopath" is harmful because it spreads an unfair stigma about psychopathy and mental illness in general as this "crazy" and violent thing, which has been normalized for far too long.
And also, it's just not true. Anyone who thinks Akechi is this "remorseless psycho" (keeping in mind this use of the term isn't great) simply does not have more than a surface level reading of the character.
His missable November texts make it abundantly clear that he is not happy with what he's doing under Shido. Which, granted, HIGHLY missable text. You have to basically delay Sae's Palace and not go in at all until mid-November. Engine room, 12/24, multiple times in third sem... his remorse is there, it's just subtle or not presented as shaking and crying and begging for forgiveness, because he's a guarded mess of a person (with deep psychological scars, make no mistake- this is not a healthy kid).
But even without those texts, there are plenty of times where these feelings are conveyed. His sad reaction when Morgana explains changes of heart (if he had known sooner), his regrets in the engine room and lamentations about Joker's freedom, and I basically did a whole meta post breaking down the important visual and spoken symbolism to Akechi's character that gets boiled down to "hehehe crazy murder boy".
Hate or dislike him? Cool, sure, but the normalization in fandom communities of just throwing around mental illness related terms in a derogatory fashion... really isn't good? Like even if Akechi was literally a psychopath or sociopath or had npd or other specific mental illnesses, that doesn't inherently make him evil, nor does it erase his victimhood, which is so integral to his role in the story.
He killed people, yes. That's not really up for debate, and yes he gets feral and over the top in third sem... but that's just over the top edgelord behavior directed at Shadows and focusing only on that ignores everything else he says and does in third sem, yet it happens so much (even though other Phantom Thieves, like Haru, have fun fighting Shadows too). Are we just gonna ignore all the times he's cool, collected, and reasonable in third sem to throw around this antiquated and hurtful idea of what the word "psychopath" means? ._.
Just... blarg. I've made many Akechi rambles/rants, but the normalization of ableism surrounding him is not great? I think it's mostly down to ignorance and lack of media literacy, but yeah.
Plus it's kinda fucked up how little weight is placed on Shido for teaching him how to do shutdowns (his own admission), the fact that the moment Akechi revealed himself to Shido, he was screwed, because this is a man who took a bump on the head as a reason to ruin Joker's life.
Idk. I think it's not just a P5 fandom trend, even, because it's so normalized the same way people think OCD is this funny quirky mental condition because of shows like Monk when it's an actual disability that can deeply affect people in horrible ways... Mental health awareness is good is all I'm saying.
170 notes
·
View notes
Note
In a week-
I saw you did royal Bodyguard poly!marauders to sunshine!reader, ans I was wondering if we could get something like that but instead reader is a little sneakt bitch who uses escaping her bodyguards as a fun pastime?????
Thanks for requesting!!
join the party
bodyguard!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 979 words
You’re about to take a sip from your cup when your wrist is gripped by a strong hand, stopping it from reaching your mouth.
“You have no idea what’s in there.”
“Hi, Jamie,” you shoot him a smile, warm and loose all over from the drinks you’ve already had. “Sure I do. It’s a rum and coke. Pretty straightforward, actually.”
“He means,” Remus says, prying your fingers from around the cup and setting it on the bar, “that you probably weren’t watching to see if anyone slipped something into it, and unfortunately for you, we weren’t here to do it for you.”
You don’t have to look around to know Sirius will be here as well, your three bodyguards relentless and nearly impossible to shake. Still, you’re a bit proud you’d managed to get free for a little over an hour tonight. That’s not an easy task.
“No one here is going to drug me,” you say, though you know that’s not strictly true, and you go on before one of them can contradict you. “How’d you find me anyway?”
James gives you a deadpan look, the closest thing you ever get to anger from him. “If we told you, you’d just figure out how to get around it next time.” He sets a hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently away from the bar. “Come on, let’s go home.”
“I don’t want to go home,” you say, and despite your best intentions, your voice comes out with a petulant edge. “Why can’t we stay here?”
“You know very well you’re allowed to go out,” Remus says as he and James steer you towards the exit. “But we haven’t had time to look around this place, and you’re supposed to be studying at Kate’s.”
“So this is a punishment.” It’s not a question, but Sirius answers you anyway, draping an arm around your shoulders as you meet him by the door.
“Yes, it is,” he says lightly. “You almost killed Remus tonight, doll, and attempted murder deserves a time-out at the very least.”
Even whilst scolding you, Sirius’ voice is teasing. Between the three of them, you know he’s the least upset with you. He might be a bit frustrated, sure, but he seems to also harbor a tiny bit of respect or understanding for what he calls your ill-timed rebellious phase. Though to be fair, you’d never had much cause for rebellion before your mom had forced a security detail upon you. You were used to doing whatever you wanted, and what you wanted had never seemed so wild until one day you needed permission to go outside and your privacy was blown to smithereens.
You step out into the cool night air, and Sirius rubs your upper arm when you shiver. Remus leads you all towards the parking lot, and you’re secretly glad to be able to get into a warm car even if you’re still stubbornly yearning for the mundanity of the bus.
“I know you think of running off as trying to get back some sort of freedom,” James says, and his voice is gentler now if not quite friendly, “but it’s not going to feel like freedom if while you’re off by yourself one of your mom’s…critics,” he decides, using the most delicate term possible, “takes the opportunity to kidnap you.”
“Or kill you.” Remus says gruffly, his posture extra-stiff as he scans the parking lot, eyes skimming over every dark corner and potentially occupied vehicle.
“Their issue is with her, not me,” you sigh, somewhere between frustrated and resigned. “You should be protecting her.”
“She’s got her own detail,” Remus reminds you. “And it wouldn’t be the first time extremists have targeted a politician’s family to get at them.”
You’re silent at that, and the boys let you stew in it, the memory of your mother’s face when she’s gotten the news that her coworker’s son had been killed in their home. She’d grieved for her friend that day, but her panic had been for herself. For you.
“We’ve got to find a way around this need to escape, angel,” James says, opening the door to the backseat and offering you a hand in. You nod hello to Marcus, your mom’s driver, whose duties have apparently been extended to picking you up when you go “missing” for an hour or two. Sirius gets in on your other side, Remus taking the passenger seat. “Are we really so awful to be around?”
“No,” you say, though you know the question was meant in jest. They deserve to know anyway. “You guys are great. It’s your job that’s the problem.”
“Unfortunately, it’s still our job,” Remus says, turning around to fix you with a look. It works, and you shrink in your seat. Remus is such a kind, gentle soul, especially considering his profession, so when he focuses his disapproval like this, it always leaves you feeling thoroughly shamed. “Every time you slip off, we have to act as if you’ve been kidnapped, even if we know better. And you very well could be kidnapped. You just—” He shakes his head, and guilt sprouts, winding and thorny, in your gut. “—I don’t think you understand the danger you’re putting yourself in when you do this.”
You nod, forcing yourself to look him in the eye so he knows you’re really listening. “I’m sorry. I’ll…” you sigh, indignation eating at you even as you give in. “I’ll try to work with you guys more.”
“That’s all we’re asking, sweetheart,” James says, bumping your shoulder with his lightly, and you know you’re at least mostly forgiven.
“For tonight,” Sirius drawls, “are you going to actually stay in your room, or is one of us going to have to tie you to the bed?” He winks. “Because if you need me to, I can totally do that, dollface.”
#moonstruckme 1k celebration#bodyguard!marauders#bodyguard!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders oneshot#bodyguard!james potter#bodyguard!james x reader#bodyguard!james potter x reader#james potter#james potter x reader#bodyguard!sirius black x reader#bodyguard!sirius black#bodyguard!sirius x reader#bodyguard!sirius#sirius black#sirius black x reader#bodyguard!remus lupin#bodyguard!remus lupin x reader#marauders fanfiction
655 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bi-Han x Fem. Reader (as well as general headcanons)
Alright alright the Bi-Han headcanons was a success so ykw I’ll bless you all again. Also this is my depiction of Bi-Han so if you think I can tweak it and make it better then by all means let me know!
CW: mentions of eating problems, anxiety, illness, chronic illness, a little nsfw, nothing too crazy
Hair combing is an intimate ordeal.
He does not let anyone else touch his hair besides himself and you. He trusts you completely to comb his hair and even put it up for him.
He thinks you do it better than him, but he can manage it himself if needed.
He sighs with relief when his hair is let down, feeling his s/o’s fingers gently massage his aching scalp. It feels so good to him, he loves it.
Bi-Han does like the quietness. Especially after a long day of Grandmaster duties and irritation.
So if it is quiet during this time, he can close his eyes and almost fall asleep as you caress his hair and take care of him.
Sometimes he has fallen asleep when you are doing this.
If you were to ask Bi-Han to bathe together, he would silently go insane for a second and then agree.
Despite seeing you naked more than often, it still gives him butterflies in different scenarios that isn’t inherently sexual. Such as bathing.
He thinks you are beautiful, do not ever be negative about yourself around Bi-Han because he will immediately worry.
If you are worried about gaining weight, he is already overthinking that you will stop eating.
So instead, Bi-Han gently encourages you to train with the other Lin Kuei if you feel that you want to lose weight or prevent yourself from gaining weight.
No, he does not think you are fat at all, do not twist his words.
But Bi-Han is the type of man to give you solutions to help you but not in a rude way.
He just tries to encourage and give you options.
He will also suggest yoga with Kuai Liang. Kuai Liang usually meditates, but he will divulge himself in yoga for you if you are interested.
He does not like to see you sad or upset about your self image. It makes him feel helpless.
Bi-Han can handle a physical threat because he can eliminate it, but when it is a mental threat such as self image issues, depression, etc., Bi-Han finds himself unable to see straight.
Out of his brothers, I see Bi-Han struggling with some anxiety.
Like I said in my previous headcanons, Bi-Han worries for his s/o because she is his weakness. If anyone were to take her away from him, he would practically engulf everything in a blizzard.
I see Bi-Han having anxiety about his brothers as well, whether they are safe or going to be okay.
As much as Bi-Han shuns Smoke, he still worries for him. Smoke is the ‘baby’ of them all, and if he were to see him in any form of pain, he is already wanting to murder the person who inflicted it upon him.
That being said, if you have any sort of health issues that will literally send Bi-Han over the edge.
He is constantly having the medics check you over and he will be riddled with so much anxiety he will stop eating and sleeping well.
God forbid you have a chronic illness or anything at all, at that point Bi-Han will just have an aneurysm.
As tough as his exterior is, Bi-Han can be sensitive.
Please do not call him names, he doesn’t even do that to you and it will hurt his feelings.
He will distance himself and feel melancholy until you apologize. He doesn’t like it when you are rude or mean to him.
As I mentioned in my other previous headcanons, he does get snappy himself so he knows that he is a bit of a hypocrite.
If you were to communicate your feelings to him, whether it is your frustrations, sadness, or anger, he will understand and try his best to relax you and make you feel better.
You do the same for him, so it’s time that he repays that favor.
Bi-Han can be extremely busy with his duties and he knows you hate being cooped up for so long.
So he will allow Smoke and Kuai Liang to take you out, whether that’s for a walk or to Madame Bo’s, Bi-Han just wants to make sure you are happy.
I don’t know where people got the “jealous of my brothers being around my s/o” belief from, but Bi-Han trusts his brothers completely.
He has to, they go into battle and on quests together, they have to deeply trust each other and have a strong bond with one another.
So he lets his brothers take you out, he does not get jealous of that. They would never do anything to you, and Bi-Han knows it is completely out of character for them to do anything in the first place.
So yes, he lets you go out with his brothers and enjoy your time together when he is busy.
Again, he knows you get cooped up and he wants you to have some freedom.
His brothers love that you have somewhat changed Bi-Han but in a good way.
He is somewhat nicer to Smoke and refrains from telling him he is not part of their family. Last time he did, you gave him the absolute worst glare that even Kuai Liang felt his stomach turn.
Bi-Han is gentle as possible with you. His hands have killed and hurt many, he would hate to inflict the same pain on you.
You are like a flower to him, a delicate and precious lively being.
You have softened Bi-Han in many ways, and many appreciate what you have done.
#mk bi han#bi han#bi han x reader#bi han x you#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat#mk1 2023#mk1#mk sub zero#mk smoke#mk scorpion#bi han headcanon#bi han sub zero#bi han mk#bi han x y/n
512 notes
·
View notes
Text
belovedhoon's 2024 halloween spooktacular masterpost
hey y'all! here is my master post for my halloween spooktacular! i have decided to come out with a new halloween/spooky themed fic for every week of october! send an ask to be added to the taglist!! (Must have ages in bio)<3
due to the fact that most (if not all) of these fics contain dark content i'm asking that MDNI (you shouldn't be on my blog at all tbh)
taglist: @hmusunoo , @st1llm0nster , @lonelybutterflytae , @multifictionx
details below the cut >>>>>>
10/03/24
monster
fandom: nct dream
pairing: franken monster! jaemin x fem drs daughter! reader
wc: tba
contains: angst, mentions of death, mentions of abuse, fluff (for some sections)
synopsis: y/n knew that her dad johnny was a doctor and sometimes his scientific experiments were a little outlandish but she never would have expected her father to be hiding such a dark secret. how was she to know that her own father was doing freakish horrible experiments on the dead, that he had brought one of the dead to life? what will she do when she finds said ‘experiment’ in the locked basement her father demanded she never enter? will she freak out or will she help him when he calls out to her?
10/10/24
prey or pray?
fandom: riize
pairing: demon! Wonbin x witch fem! reader
wc: tba
contains: angst, mentions of death, suicidal thoughts, murder, smut, fluff (at the end)
synopsis: y/n has heard whispers about the capability of summoning the descendant of lucifer himself and bounding him to themself to do their deeds. when y/n hears these rumors she runs with the possibility. why does she need to summon him to do her deeds? why to get revenge on those who murdered her beloved shotaro of course. they must pay and y/n will do whatever it takes to get that revenge even if she does have to deal with a moody demon who seems to hate her guts.
10/17/24
come closer
fandom: ateez
pairing: pirate! hongjoong x fem siren! reader
wc: tba
contains: dark content, angst, murder, character death, no happy ending (sorry)
synopsis: hongjoong is a fearless captain of the sea who preys on anyone he can to get what he wants, no matter how innocent they are. some would call him evil, most wouldn’t even dare to even think about talking ill of him for fear of what he would do to them. hongjoong takes and takes and takes without any regard for human life or any life for that matter. what will he do when he’s out to sea and hears a beautifully majestic tune? he gravitates towards it of course he can’t help but be allured by the beautiful woman calling out to him…surely she can’t be bad if she sings so beautifully right? hongjoong makes the incorrect assumption that she is a harmless mermaid that he can force to do his will, but oh how wrong he is. what happens when the predator becomes the prey?
10/24/24
masked secrets
fandom: tomorrow x together
pairing: yeonjun x fem ghostface! reader
wc: tba
contains: dark topics, murder, gore, angst, smut
synopsis: when murders started popping up quickly around campus, everyone was terrified to go to class, let alone leave their dorms. who could be responsible for these heinous killings and why? no one can be trusted in yeonjun’s eyes except for his best friend y/n, i mean why wouldn’t he trust her? she was so shy and reserved…there’s no way she could do something like this…right?…right…?
10/31/24
blood moon
fandom: enhypen and &team
pairing: vampire prince! sunghoon x human princess f! reader x werewolf prince! nicholas
wc: tba
contains: (slight angst in some parts), mentions of war, fluff, smut, happy ending (finally)
synopsis: sunghoon, y/n, and nicholas have been best friends ever since they were young children. they met in the prestige school for royals, decelis academy. they grew up knowing that they were fated together, that they were going to be the ones to end the war between the vampire, werewolf, and human races. they were told that when the blood moon came about in the sky they were to marry and complete a ritual to produce an heir so that this could put a stop to the wars raging on in front of their very eyes. they knew this, of course, they’ve always known this however they never would have imagined it being so soon after they graduated from decelis academy.
#nct dream#nct dream smut#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#riize#riize smut#riize angst#riize fluff#ateez#ateez smut#ateez angst#txt#tomorrow x together#txt smut#txt angst#tomorrow x together smut#tomorrow x together angst#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#&team#&team smut#&team fluff#&team angst#kpop#kpop smut#kpop fluff#kpop angst#kinktober
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
The not so subtle sentimentality of Mordecai Heller
With the Lackadaisy Short Film teaser trailer hitting over 800K views one line from Serafine got me thinking about a side of Mordecai that is not often discussed but is crucial to his character and may play a key part in the comics story before the end
Though it is easy for both other characters in the story and readers to see Mordecai as just a cold killer that cares more about stains on his shirt than ending multiple lives in grizzly ways (and that is true for anyone who makes the mistake of getting in the way of him completing his work) a closer look reveals that, while reserved for a short list of people, there is a strong streak of sentimentality hidden behind the buttoned down aloof professional persona he tries so hard to maintain
His Mother and Sisters
Mordecai was dealt a very bad starting hand in life. With his father dying when he and his sisters were still very young, despite his loving and hard working mother doing her best to provide for them, the family lived in poverty in the slums of New York
As a result Mordecai has to start working at a very early age and being naturally gifted with numbers he becomes a book keeper and soon enough gets drawn into running the numbers for gambling and loan sharking gangs.
All of this was done to try and make life better for his mother and his sisters. In a flashback to when he was on the run from the criminals he had been working for after being caught embezzling funds from them, his life is in danger and he needs to get out of town in a hurry and so jumps on a train in either 1920 or 1921.
Despite this he fixates on writing a letter to send to his mother in which he explains the location of his ill gotten savings and urges her to move with his sisters to cleaner better ventilated housing.
Because the money wasn’t primarily for his benefit
Mordecai clearly loved his sisters very much and they could break him out of his reserved bookish demeanor. We can see even as an adult Modecai holds the memory of his childhood with his sisters, impoverished and hard though it clearly was, very close. Close enough that thinking about them are enough to bring out his very small but very genuine smile that could not be further away from his “ice pick look”.
Atlas
The next imporant relationship in his life is with Atlas May. When on that getaway train he soon realized that cut throats from his former employers are already in the carriage waiting for their moment to pounce
Mordecai is 100% certain that he is about to get a bullet to the head and the tunnel will provide the hitmen with the perfect cover as the darkness and noise descends.
Only for a ray of light to suddenly appear
Atlas gave Mordecai the means to survive, not just by literally giving him what he needed to escape his would be murderers, but by employing him and providing a new purpose when he had nowhere else to go and no idea what to do.
Atlas being dead by the time of the main story, by design we know very little about his personality and relationships with others except for what the people who knew him have to say.
But is is very clear that Mordecai felt a deep loyalty to Atlas. It may even be speculated that he became a surrogate father figure for him, having lost his own father so young and having been moulded while working for him from the scared youth in shabby second hand clothes to a dapper professional bookkeeping bootlegger
This loyalty has not ended with Atlas’s death. He is determined to get to the bottom of the mystery of his murder. This is despite the fact it would be a much smarter move by far for the sake of both professionalism and survival to let dead former employers lie and simply carry out his new role with the Marigold gang no questions asked
Instead it is clear the entire reason he has abandoned The Lackadaisy is not, as Mitzi and the rest think, cold self interest but so he can investigate if the rival gang had any role in his mentors death
Even discussing the topic causes his cold passive exterior to crack and makes him look broken and overwhelmed
Viktor (You knew this was coming)
As anyone who has followed this account will know this is one of my (and many other fans) favourite dynamics in the series
At fist it seems there is little reason for these two to have any kind of bond. Mordecai is pretty much obsessed with good grooming, high quality tailoring, correct grammar, and tends to go on one-sided rambles when perturbed.
This clashes hard with the surly Slovak who is often unshaven, relatively casual in his attire, speaks a broken English, and hates people chattering or “noise, noise, noise” as he calls it. Indeed the two often bicker and act as if they can’t stand the other
However for whatever reason, in spite of these big differences, the big bruiser mechanic and the fussy nerdy sharp shooter are able to work very well together and soon become key weapons in Atlas’s arsenal
And in spite of their differences there is evidence, that over the course of the roughly six years they were working together before their bosses death, that these two extremely anti-social personalities actually began to form an unlikely rapport
On the one known occasion when Mordecai actually drank strong alcohol, and predictably got hilariously drunk, one of his chosen topics of conversation is his “friend” Viktor and how “great” he is (including a possibly telling comment about his large physique *cough*)
Mordecai also, despite being the type of person who you would assume would just radiate Scrooge energy, makes a point of buying Viktor a Christmas/hanukka present. Though he keeps up appearances by presenting it as another criticism of Viktor’s fashion sense
Tellingly Viktor voluntarily wears the tie for the rest of the day, something only Ivy (someone Viktor treats as a surrogate daughter) is able to get away with as well.
The two also not only work well together in a professional capacity, but seem to truly look out for each others welfare when on the job. Not only does Mordecai save Viktor from being shot while distracted, Viktor then goes out of his way to retrieve Mordecai’s pince-nez from the staircase of a burning building
While a hilarious moment as Mordecai fails to react in the “correct” way to having just survived a bloody shoot out, it also sums up his entire attitude to people, that he separates the world into those who count and those who don’t. The former are a short list
Viktor, along with the others on here, counts for Mordecai
This is made clear at his chat with Mitzi at the lunch meeting.
Mordecai may have kneecapped Viktor when he left the Lackadaisy gang, but from what we know now this was clearly an attempt to get Viktor out of harms way by forcing him to retire from bootlegging, and quite possibly to avoid Marigold putting him in a position where he would have to fight Viktor if he was told to finish off the failing speakeasy. Something he could hardly refuse if he wanted to keep investigating Atlas’s death
Mitzi seems to know Viktor is a chink in Mordecai’s armour, and of course exploits that to the fullest. When she informs him that his theft of the Lackadaisy arsenal put Viktors life in danger Mordecai’s face makes less than neutral expression
As Mitzi keeps twisting that screw Mordecai knows he is in danger of giving something away and with Asa right next to him he needs to restore his barriers.
In this case quite literally using a menu to cover his face to ensure he doesn’t slip up again
It seem to work as Asa laughs of the idea of Mordecai having a heart beneath the cold exterior (something we know is a big mistake)
Even when the attention is off him and the topic of conversation moves on his gaze remains firmly fixed down at the table.
Until Atlas lets slip some crucial information about Atlas’s last days. So much for there being “no heartstrings to tug on”
I am sure the Lackadaisy Animated Movie is going to be amazing and hopefully will only lead to ever more popularity and attention for this amazing world and its characters
#lackadaisy#lackadaisycats#tracy j butler#mordecai heller#viktor vasko#vikdecai#viktor x mordecai#asa sweet#zippy heller#rose heller#esther heller#atlas may#mitzi may#1920s#cats#calvin mcmurray#rocky rickaby#ivy pepper
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
you inhale deeply, lightly patting your wound with a washcloth. there really shouldn't be any reason for mindy's voice to be ringing over in your head "be careful with him." she'd told you before you left to go back to your boyfriend's dorm, seeing as your apartment had turned into a crime scene. the drive there had been in complete silence, save for ethan occasionally checking in on you. it's been silent between the two of you since you'd seen him, truthfully.
it's silly, really. to even think about it. especially considering the implications of what it would mean to you. to your relationship. shrugging off whatever ill-intended thoughts that swarm your mind, you glance towards your boyfriend. and yet you can't help the worry and suspicion that settles like a weight in your chest.
ethan must have noticed the way you're staring at him, because the next thing he says takes you by surprise. "why are you looking at me like that?" he asks quietly. "do you think i'm the killer, too?"
you can't prevent the underlying tone of worry in your voice when you finally muster up the courage to reply, you don't even know what you've said until you hear the sound of your own voice ringing back in your ears. "i don't know what to think," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "it's just- it's... you keep disappearing every time something happens. where were you, e? i needed you with me. and you weren't there. i was stabbed- i lost anika. my best friend died infront of me and you weren't there."
ethan's face is a mask of cold anger, though the softness you've been familiar to for the past year still glimmering in his eyes. "i told you angel, i was at econ. and i'm telling you again, i didn't do it. you have to believe me."
"after everything that's happened... after last year with sam- i'm just not sure what to think anymore. with everything that they're saying... i just-" you pause, cutting yourself off. this isn't even a conversation you want to be having right now.
a long beat passes before ethan speaks up. "they? who is they? mindy? anika? tara? i'm so tired of being accused of being the killer. what's to say those bitches aren't the killers themselves? huh?" although he keeps his composure, his tone is laced with venom. you've never heard him talk like this before.
"i just feel like i don't even know who you are anymore." you whisper, letting go of what you had held back from saying a moment before.
"that's a shame," he says, leaning in closer to you. his tone completely different, it's as if something had shifted in him within a few seconds. "because i feel like i know you better than anyone. in fact, i know everything about you. your fears, your desires, your weaknesses...all of it."
"that's...unsettling," you say, pulling away from him.
"oh, come on," a grin spreads over his face, his tone dripping with implication. "don't tell me you don't find it a little bit exciting. the idea that someone knows you so intimately, someone who's willing to do anything to be with you..." he trails off, his eyes darkening. "it's kind of romantic, don't you think?"
"no, it's not," you say, voice shaking. "it's sick. i don't like the way you're talking to me, ethan. you're scaring me."
"am i?" ethan says in a low scoff, barely audible. "you should be scared, sweetheart. you have no idea what i'm capable of."
you can barely register what he's saying. is this some sick twisted game to him? is he being his usual sarcastic self? surely not- not after what you just went through. your mind is drowning in endless vivid images of your boyfriend brutally murdering innocent people, your friends, your loved ones. this is the man who you've spent every sleepless night with for a year now, the man who you've devoted yourself to in every way possible, and in his own words, a man who knows you so intimately- in ways which you don't even know yourself. "what are you going to do?"
"nothing, as long as you behave." a twisted smile spreads across his face as he eyes your wound, his voice so low. "though that says otherwise, hmm?" he laughs. he actually laughs. "believe me, i never meant for it to happen, princess. but you just had to try and protect anika, and i thought you were mindy- god how i wish it had been that bitch. though i figure she got her warning."
you can't speak. it's as if every fiber of your being has shut down. ethan reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and you let him. you know you should be screaming, shoving him away, running even. but you don't do any of those things. instead, you stare at your boyfriend as he towers over you, accepting the fact that any second now he'd make a move to hurt you. but ethan let's out a soft chuckle when he takes in the expression plastered over your face. "oh my sweet dumb thing. i love you, remember? i'd never hurt you. don't worry, baby. i'd sooner die before i let anything happen to you ever again."
#i have severe ethan brainrot#ethan landry#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry smut#smut#ethan landry x reader#scream#scream 6 spoilers#scream 6#ethan landry fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Round 1 of preliminaries, group 11
The first two places get a place on the bracket
Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket
Propaganda under the cut
Mae Borowski (Night in the Woods)
"Spoilers!
She's a college dropout in her early twenties, who suffers from untreated mental illness and dissociation and had a complete breakdown at college, causing her to come home. Now she's living with her parents again, but life in her dingy little hometown went on without her. Her friends are adults now - in a relationship and planning on moving to the big city, or having to waste away in a dead end job instead of following their dreams. Mae is the only one without a new adult role in life. She's not great with people either - she's blunt and often doesn't think things through, and in many ways just doesn't get the world of adults. She's also prone to petty crimes and general anarchy. She's kind of lost and purposeless, and trying to find meaning in life by desperately clinging to the past. Her decision to drop out of college probably saved her life, but it's also put her family in a tough financial situation and is viewed by most people as her just thoughtlessly doing whatever she wants. She's also kind of shamed a lot about not having a job or other productive role in life, despite the fact that her untreated mental issues are actually disabling for her. She also plays the bass real bad.
Anyway, i love Mae a lot. Playing this game as a college dropout in my early twenties, sitting in my childhood bedroom in my mom's attic, back in my dingy little hometown, desperately missing my old friends who have all moved on to better, resposible things in life... yeah, it felt like the game was pointing dead at me. Given tumblr's general demographic, i figure i must not be completely alone in this"
Shigeo Kageyama / Mob (Mob Psycho 100)
"autistic. likes milk. if we reach a certain level of emotion we turn into a psychic bomb. cool brothers :)"
Barry the Quokka (The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog)
"Their only skill is working the microwave, they're non-binary, when seeing a trash bin their first instinct is to look through it, they're always the most normal person in the room, they can beatbox, and they were only hired due to being the only one who applied."
Kaveh (Genshin Impact)
"In a fantasy world, be a guy with a regular profession losing his goddamn mind. Poor guy has a guilt complex, (so true) and a lot of deep embarrassment regarding his life.(ehe) He just wants to do what he's passionate about but capitalism is evil and also he keeps getting scammed.
Claims to not want anyone to know Things, goes into depth about these Things anyway. Is probably most definitely gay. Can be found face down on a table lamenting his fate. Terrible sleep schedule. (HA) He is such a guy.
Wants to believe the world is a good place and people are inherently good. And wants to help people and do good himself. It's just hard.
[And he has a roommate. Oh my god he has a roommate]"
"He was, and still is, regarded a genius. He aced his Akademiya days, he has the admiration and appreciation of so many people because he is oh-so remarkable. But what for, when reality is that he sits at home depressed and with guilt consuming him, faking the image people have of him, not only broke as fuck but actually in debt, drowning his sorrows in wine."
Yusuke Kitagawa (Persona 5)
"highschooler who wants to spend the rest of his life doing what he loves. is obsessed with art and beauty and it's on his mind 24/7
received help from his now friendgroup to break from his abusive foster father who he still have complicated feelings with
had to move into school dorms and am struggling to live independantly since he'd rather spend money and time on his art
but he's still surviving and enjoying the good times id say
also ends up saying whatever is on his mind and is pretty eccentric. very passionate about what he loves. doesn't want to do anything else."
Nanami Kento (Jujutsu Kaisen)
"Ex-salaryman, now jujutsu sorcerer.
During one life-and-death fight, kept talking about how it was almost six pm with is when he is getting off work at 6pm no matter what because he hates overtime. While his opponent repeatedly almost kills him.
Normalest adult in this shonen anime.
Teen MC: "Let's go all out!"
Nanami: "No. Where moderate effort will suffice, use moderate effort."
Some of his quotes from the anime:
"I studied at Jujutsu Tech and one thing I learned is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are shit!
Then I worked at your typical company and one thing I learned is that work is shit! If both are equally shit I'll take the one I'm more suited to."
"You've faced several life-or-death situations, but that does not make you an adult. Finding more fallen-out hairs on your pillow, watching your favourite stuffed bread disappear from the convenience store... The accunulation of these little despairs is what makes a person an adult."
"I don't praise or disparage anyone. I adhere to facts and judge on that basis. That's who I am. There was a time when I mistakenly believed society operated the same way." "
#preliminaries#tumblr polls#tumblr tournament#character bracket#character tournament#mae borowski#night in the woods#shigeo kageyama#mob psycho 100#barry the quokka#the murder of sonic the hedgehog#kaveh#genshin impact#yusuke kitagawa#persona 5#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen
274 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
drcristine
Drchristinedotcom
playboibayar
Untitled
ateliernico
atelier nico
eddynorthey8-blog
The Secret Of Successful Muscle Building
renjuniie
Σελήνη