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futurecorps3 · 1 year

Note

May I request Kaz caring for sick!reader? ❤️

Masterlist <3 -Requests are still open! (For any character of the fandoms in my masterlist)

This is a concept that I absolutely adore. I'm using fem!reader and established relationship for this one !<3 I hope you like it. I'm terribly sorry for the long delay! (Yes, we're going to pretend I never left and that I'm not back after being gone for like five months)

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, illness, trauma related to those two, stabbing, blood,

»»————-　𓄿　————-««

He thinks it's, frankly, pathetic. To anyone outside the crows, and even people from inside the slat knew Kaz Brekker was not a man victim of guilt. If anything, guilt was his servant and his bitch, to say the least.

But here he was.

Knowing for a fact Y/N coming down with the worst cold he had seen in... several years, was completely and entirely his fault all because he insisted she had to stay outside the building to make sure no Stadwatch officers came near in the last job they got done.

Her being the most capable fighter of them all was his excuse, but both of them knew he didn't want her to go inside to dive into the smell of rotting corpses and the sight of the death itself. Which she had no issues on causing, but a fresh corpse is way far from a decomposing one.

She understood the difference perfectly. Her past taught her that particular lesson. It wasn't different for him, but he'd only stay near the door while Jesper grabbed the blueprints from that rich asshole's corpse and then get out fast.

She was perfectly fine, keeping both eyes open for anything odd.

It then started raining.

A thing she loved since she had arrived in Ketterdam. There was a certain air brought by the combination of wet alleyways and the noisy streets of the East Stave that brought comfort to her. She said that to him in one of their late-night conversations. But you didn't need to be as clever as Kaz to know that Y/N wouldn't particularly enjoy it as she did inside the comfort her room brought, being outside with no shelter from the little droplets of water, that is.

"Saints, doll, you're drenched!" was the first thing that came out of Jesper's mouth when he saw her after getting out of the morgue. She was. "Did you get them?" was the only thing she answered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and moving them up and down trying to keep warm, miserably failing.

It had stopped raining a few minutes ago, so the wind was especially colder and faster. Kaz muttered a small "Yes" as he handed the blueprints to Inej for a quick second, taking off his long black coat and draping it over his lover's shoulders. "Let's go, quick," he ordered, keeping Y/N close to him. As close as he could, anyway; their arms touching and pinkies linked as they walked through the city, with Inej guarding them from above.

Kaz knew he should've asked Nina to check her pulse and temperature before she left, or even better, ask her to part to Fjerda the next morning in case Y/N got ill no matter how the girl insisted her friend should leave as soon as possible so the flowers the crows sent for Matthias wouldn't die. Nina left that same night and Y/N started sneezing soon after.

"Would you like some tea? Mom used to add honey, ginger and garlic on it when I had a cold" Wylan offered, seeing his friend's state as his boyfriend, Kaz, and Y/N sat on the small loft in the third floor of the Slat "That'd be great, thank you Wylan" she said, trying to clear her itchy throat. With that, Wylan excited the room with Jesper following after him.

"Are you warm?" Kaz asked, sitting next to her on the couch, stretching his bad leg over the table, being careful he didn't knock over any of the items on it "Mhm" she hummed, tracing small shapes on his gloved hand in search for some comfort. Kaz pulled away immediately to take the leather item off and pulled his hand closer to her thigh so she could continue. She did, giggling softly.

"Did you feel alright earlier?" this time she was the one asking, knowing how uncomfortable the situation could've made him. "It was fine. I didn't touch... it. You know seeing them isn't as bad as-" "Yes" she nodded "What did he even die from?" "Bastard got stabbed and bled to death in an alley, it was just a matter of time for someone of the many people who hated him acted" "Or for you to get him" she smiled, making him smirk softly "Or for me to get him".

"You should go to bed," he suggested, peeking over to the kitchen briefly and seeing Wylan and Jesper playing around with the honey, "They're taking their time" he sighed. Y/n tried turning her head quickly towards the other couple but hissed right away, placing her hand on her head after feeling a sharp sting. Kaz looked at her with worry behind his usual seemingly emotionless eyes.

"I-it's okay. Wylan was really thoughtful when he offered making something warm for me. I'm waiting until it's done," she said, closing her eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to go away. He couldn't bear the sight. He knew it was just a cold, but Y/N was in pain and uncomfortable, and even though he rarely got any rest, he knew it made one feel better.

"Go rest, I'll bring it to your room" he insisted, getting up and helping her up on the way "What if I fall asleep an-" "That'd be great. We can heat it up in the morning. Now go." It almost sounded like an order. Right before she turned around to do as he said, she stopped in her tracks and looked at him once again.

"Thank you," she whispered, now actually turning around to leave.

Kaz watched as Y/N turned to the left and into the hallway that led to her room. After putting his gloves back on and taking his cane , which was resting on another one of the small couches around the area, he stepped into the kitchen, finding Wylan sitting on top of a counter with Jesper standing between his legs.

"How is she?" the Zemeni boy asked, a tint of worry in his tone "Her head started to hurt so I advised she'd go to bed for now, I'll get her the tea when it's done" he answered, leaving his cane propped up against a chair and combing his fingers trough his slightly wet hair "I'm sure this will help," Wylan said "it always did with me, anyway".

Silence took over the room. Not an uncomfortable silence, but not a comfortable one either. Kaz knew for a fact his friends would be all over each other if he wasn't present, but he felt the need to ask something. Something that Inej and Nina would giggle about if they weren't fast asleep or boarding a boat at the moment.

"How do you do it?" he questioned, looking directly at Wylan. "Do what?" "The tea" "Why?" Jesper interrupted, pertinent as ever. "In case this little family tradition makes her feel better... I'd like to make it for her". The silence was even louder now, one of astonishment too. Both men shared looks of confusion, as if they didn't hear him right, splitting in cheesy smiles when they realized they had, in fact, heard Mr. Dirty Hands clearly.

It was all broken by the loud whistle of the kettle, a sharp sound filling the room before Wylan hopped off the counter to turn it off. He carefully grabbed a mug and poured some tea in it, handing it to Kaz after. "I'll tell you when you come back, lover-boy" he smiled, making the raven haired boy roll his eyes as he was handed the cup.

He left his cane behind, exciting the kitchen once again. The tea smelt sickeningly sweet and had a powerful scent of garlic that made Kaz's nostrils and eyes itch a little as he was subtly looking down at it to make sure it didn't spill. He knocked twice, pausing briefly and then knocked two times again, all delicately as to not wake her up in case she was already asleep.

"Come in"

Her room was one of his favorite places in this world. Everything about it screamed Y/N. From the pile of unread books on the desk that left just enough space for her to write and paint to the neatly folded clothes that belonged to both of them. He had insisted he could make his own laundry, but she knew he'd never find the time to do so, and Y/N never really minded helping out.

She was sitting on the bed in her cotton nightgown, propped up against the headboard with the wind crashing on her face. Icy wind. Kaz left the tea on her bedside table, rushing over as fast as his leg allowed him to close the window and curtains. "No!" she whined like a little girl, almost making the man giggle. "It's the only thing keeping me sane. It's fresh." "It is not fresh, it's cold and you're sick," he argued, adjusting the blankets over his lover, careful not to touch her.

Y/N looked up at him in awe. Y/N knew her boyfriend would never in a million years admit to ever be bothered. Kaz Brekker had things in control. If someone was one step ahead, Kaz Brekker was three steps ahead. Kaz Brekker didn't know fear. Most times, she found that to be true, and she had certainly been surprised plenty of times by his mind. That's one of the things that made her fall for him. But she knew it was always different when it came to her.

He became a professional overthinker about her safety and comfort. He just wanted the best for his girl and tried hard to show it the way he could. It was quite adorable to see him worry like this, especially when she really was feeling sick.

Kaz noticed her stare on him after gently tucking her in. "What?" he asked, trying to stop himself from grinning like stupid. "I'm going to get you sick." "Nonsense dear, I never get sick" he smirks, taking off his gloves to caress her cheek. Y/N leaned into the contact before he felt him tense up briefly to then pull away. At first, she thought the contact might've been too much for him but then he said in a very much worried tone a small "You're burning up".

Kaz didn't like her being sick but he knew that if she'd been cold, the water would've risen to his chest and he'd be a helpless little boy all over again, because then it wouldn't've been his girl, the light of his life. That person would've been Jordie. And he was going to lose her. Just like he did with his brother. So he thanked her fever, selfishly.

The boy walked to the bathroom, and she could hear the distant sound of water running. Sleep was taking over her, but she had to stay awake to drink the tea, so she tried her best and this time, succeeded. A few seconds after, her boyfriend was back at her side, now sitting on the other side of the bed while squeezing off the excess of water from the drenching washcloth he brought with him in a small bowl-like plate.

"I'm cold" she hissed when he placed the cloth on her forehead, drying the very few droplets that glided down her temples. "You're fully covered. It's this or have you take a cold bath. You look ill". From the short distance between her face and his, she could see how Kaz's brows were slightly furrowed and his eyes held what looked like guilt.

"This is not your fault," she assured, seeing her boy's eyes look up to hers, his gaze softening at the words. "You couldn't've known it was going to rain, and you were also trying to protect me from seeing the bodies. I'll get better, I'll live"

"You better, love" he smirked, letting the room fall in a very comforting silence, his doubts dissipating instantly. Y/N knew how to make him feel better. She made him better.

After an hour of Kaz playing with her hair as she breathed in and out with her eyes closed but not sleeping, she drank the tea, refreshing her throat a little but not stopping the sting she had been feeling for a while now. When the washcloth dried up, the fever had gone down, Kaz touching her face to make sure himself. Truth is, these little details here and there are what helped him overcome his aversion little by little. There was a long way to go yet, but Y/N was sure he'd make it one day.

Y/N yawned loudly, and Kaz knew it was time for him to go. He didn't want to, though. "Get some sleep. If you need anything, knock twice on the wall" he ordered requested, placing the now empty cup on her nightstand. "Yeah," she responded, laying on her side and pulling the covers up to her nose. "And you should too" she mumbled, already slipping away to a deep slumber.

"Took three seconds" Kaz thought, smiling to himself as he put his gloves on. Y/N laid so peacefully, making the boy realize she was his favorite part of being alive. She had a heart that kept others strong. And all is well. He's okay, she's okay, the crows are okay and even though they live in madness city... it's all okay. He picked up the drenched clothes she discarded hours ago and took them with him, closing the door after blowing the candles that lit the room dimly.

Over the next days, Kaz managed to balance the time between planning their next heist and taking care of Y/N. Which meant endless cups of Wylan's tea made by him, changing the sheets with Inej's help, and opening the windows to her room when the weather allowed it. Thanks to Kaz and the crows' cares, she was back after three days. And she could swear on everything she held sacred she heard Kaz cough a couple of times during that week.

But he'd do it all over again just so she felt better, because she was the one and only thing he held sacred. And if her being well meant he'd have to deal with coughing and a runny nose, he would gladly take it.

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hopelesslys-world · 10 months

Text

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH.4

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

EXTRAS: Vomiting, alcohol !

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I speed towards Bella's car getting inside as if someone was chasing me.

What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome incoming tears make my eyes water.

Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. I hide my face in my hands and wipe a stray tear off my cheek.

That is so embarrassing. I embarrassed myself out there thinking that we were going to kiss. I'm so stupid, being sad of something I never had. How ridiculous. Something that never was – my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.

I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. Okay… so I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball – but I understood that – running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball is not my thing. I am a serious liability in any sporting field.

Romantically, though, I’ve never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity – I’m too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would be admirers. There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest – no one except Christian damn Grey.

Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Paul Clayton and José Rodriguez, though I’m sure neither of them have been found like me inside their car in a dark parking lot.

I should go home, do my studying. Forget about him and stop all this self-pitying, crap!!!

I take a deep, steadying breath and start the engine. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams.

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Bella is sitting at the dining table at her laptop when I arrive. Her welcoming smile fades when she sees me.

“Y/N/N what’s wrong?”

Oh no… not the Isabella Clark Inquisition. I shake my head at her in a back-off now Bella way – but I might as well be dealing with a blind, deaf mute.

“You’ve been crying,” she has an exceptional gift for stating the damned obvious sometimes. “What did that bastard do to you?” she growls, and her face – jeez, she’s scary.

“Nothing Bella.” That’s actually the problem. The thought brings a wry smile to my face.

“Then why have you been crying? You never cry,” she says, her voice softening. She stands, her green eyes brimming with concern. She puts her arms around me and hugs me.

I need to say something just to get her to back off. “I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist.” It’s the best that I can do, but it distracts her momentarily from… him.

“Jeez Y/N/N – are you okay? Were you hurt?” She holds me at arm’s length and does a quick visual check-up on me.

“No. Christian saved me,” I whisper. “But I was quite shaken.”

“I’m not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee.”

“I had tea. It was fine, nothing to report really. I don’t know why he asked me.”

“He likes you Y/N/N.” She drops her arms.

“Not anymore. I won’t be seeing him again.” Yes, I manage to sound matter of fact.

“Oh?”

Shit. She’s intrigued. I head into the kitchen so that she can’t see my face.

“Yeah… he’s a little out of my league Bella,” I say as dryly as I can manage.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh Bella, it’s obvious.” I whirl round and face her as she stands in the kitchen doorway.

“Not to me,” she says. “Okay, he’s got more money than you, but then he has more money than most people in America!”

“Bella he’s– ” I shrug.

“Y/N! For heaven’s sake – how many times must I tell you? You’re a total babe,” she interrupts me. She’s off on this tirade again.

“Bella, please. I need to study.” I cut her short. She frowns.

“Do you want to see the article? It’s finished. José took some great pictures.”

Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Christian I-don’t-want-you Grey?

“Sure,” I magic a smile on to my face and stroll over to the laptop. And there he is, staring at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me lacking.

I pretend to read the article, all the time meeting his steady gray gaze, searching the photo for some clue as to why he’s not the man for me – his own words to me. And it’s suddenly, blindingly obvious. He’s too gloriously good-looking. We are poles apart and from two very different worlds. His words make sense. He’s not the man for me.

This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection easier to accept… almost. I can live with this. I understand.

“Very good Bella,” I manage. “I’m going to study.” I am not going to think about him again for now, I vow to myself, and opening my revision notes, I start to read.

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It’s only when I’m in bed, trying to sleep, that I allow my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I keep coming back to the ‘I don’t do the girlfriend thing’ quote, and I’m angry that I didn’t pounce on this information sooner, when I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me. He’d said it there and then. He didn’t want me as a girlfriend. I turn on to my side.

Idly, I wonder if perhaps he’s celibate? I close my eyes and begin to drift. Maybe he’s saving himself.

Well not for you, my sleepy subconscious has a final swipe at me before unleashing itself on my dreams.

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I put my pen down. Finished. My final exam is over. I feel the Cheshire cat grin spread over my face.

It’s Friday, and we'll be celebrating tonight, really celebrating. I might even get drunk! I’ve never been drunk before. I glance across the sports hall at Bella, and she’s still scribbling furiously, five minutes to the end. This is it, the end of my academic career.

I shall never have to sit in rows of anxious, isolated students again. Inside I’m doing graceful cartwheels around my head, knowing full well that’s the only place I can do graceful cartwheels.

Bella stops writing and puts her pen down. She glances across at me, and I catch her sly smile too.

We head back to our apartment together in her Mercedes, refusing to discuss our final paper. Bella is more concerned about what she’s going to wear to the bar this evening. I am busily fishing around in my purse for my keys.

“Y/N/N, there’s a package for you.” Bella is standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel. Odd. I haven’t ordered anything from Amazon recently. Bella gives me the parcel and takes my keys to open the front door.

It’s addressed to Miss Y/N Y/L/N. There’s no sender’s address or name. Perhaps it’s from my mom or Ray.

“It’s probably from my mom or dad.”

“Open it!” Bella is excited as she heads into the kitchen for our ‘Exams are finished celebration Champagne’.

I open the parcel, and inside I find a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered books in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, is:

Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me?

Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these trisks...

I recognize the quote from Tess. I am stunned by the irony as I’ve just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardy in my final examination. Perhaps there is no irony… perhaps it’s deliberate.

I inspect the books closely, three volumes of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I open the front cover. Written in an old typeface on the front plate is:

‘London: Jack R. Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., 1891.’

Holy fuck - they are first editions. They must be worth a fortune, and I know immediately who’s sent them. Bella is at my shoulder gazing at the books. She picks up the card.

“First Editions,” I whisper.

“No way...” Bella’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “Grey?”

I nod. “Can’t think of anyone else.”

“What does this card mean?”

“I have no idea. I think it’s a warning – honestly he keeps warning me off. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m beating his door down.” I frown.

“I know you don’t want to talk about him, Y/N/N, but he’s seriously into you. Warnings or no.”

I have not let myself dwell on Christian Grey for the past week. Okay…I know it will take an eternity to expunge the feel of his arms around me and his wonderful fragrance from my brain. Why has he sent me this?

He told me that I wasn’t for him.

“I’ve found one Tess first edition for sale in New York at $14,000. But yours looks in much better condition. They must have cost more.” Bella is consulting her good friend Google.

“This quote – Tess says it to her mother after Alec D’Urberville has had his wicked way with her.”

“I know,” muses Bella. “What is he trying to say?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t accept these from him. I’ll send them back with an equally baffling quote from some obscure part of the book.”

“The bit where Angel Clare says fuck off?” Bella asks with a completely straight face.

“Yes, that bit.” I giggle. I love Bella, she’s so loyal and supportive. I repack the books and leave them on the dining table. She hands me a glass of champagne.

“To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle,” she grins.

“To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle, and excellent results.” We clink glasses and drink.

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The bar is loud and hectic, full of soon to be graduates out to get trashed. José joins us. He won’t graduate for another year, but he’s in the mood to party and gets us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for us all.

As I down my fifth, I know this is not a good idea on top of the champagne.

“So what now Y/N/N?” José shouts at me over the noise.

“Bella and I are moving to Seattle. Her parents have bought a condo there for her.”

“But you’ll be back for my show, right?”

“Of course, José, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smile, and he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“It means a lot to me that you’ll be there Y/N/N,” he whispers in my ear. “Another margarita?”

“José Luis Rodriguez – are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think it’s working.” I giggle. “I think I’d better have a beer. I’ll go get us a pitcher.”

“More drinks, Y/N/N!” Bella bellows.

Bella has the constitution of an ox. She’s got her arm draped over Levi, one of our fellow English students and her usual photographer on her student newspaper. He’s given up taking photos of the drunkenness that surrounds him. He only has eyes for her. She’s in a stunning red dress that hugs her curves perfectly with black high heels and curls that reach her back elegantly.

Me, I’m in my usual skirt outfit but Bella made it more 'club like' and I love it, I feel very comfortable.

I move out of José’s hold and get up from our table. Whoa. Head spin. I have to grab the back of the chair. Tequila based cocktails are not a good idea.

I make my way to the bar and decide that I should visit the restroom while I am on my feet.

Good thinking, Y/N. I stagger off through the crowd. Of course, there’s a line, but at least it’s quiet and cool in the corridor. I reach for my cell phone to relieve the boredom of waiting in line.

Hmm… Who did I last call? Was it José? Before that a number I don’t recognize. Oh yes. Grey, I think this is his number. I giggle. I have no idea what the time is, maybe I’ll wake him. Perhaps he can tell me why he sent me those books and the crypticmessage.

If he wants me to stay away, he should leave me alone. I suppress a drunken grin and hit the automatic re-dial. He answers on the second ring. “Y/N?” He’s surprised to hear from me. Well, frankly, I’m surprised to ring him.

Then my befuddled brain registers… how does he know it’s me? “Why did you send me the books?” I slur at him.

“Y/N, are you okay? You sound strange.” His voice is filled with concern.

“I’m not the strange one, you are,” I accuse. My courage fuelled by alcohol.

“Y/N, have you been drinking?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m...curious. Where are you?”

“In a bar.”

“Which bar?” He sounds exasperated.

“A bar in Portland.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’ll find a way.” This conversation is not going how I expected.

“Which bar are you in?”

“Why did you send me the books, Christian?”

“Y/N, where are you, tell me now.” His tone is so, so dictatorial, his usual control freak.

He's a freak. The thought makes me laugh.“You’re so… domineering,” I giggle.

“Where the fuck are you?” He asked angrily.

Christian Grey is swearing at me. I giggle again. “I’m in Portland… s’a long way from Seattle s'a long way from your bizarre ass.”

“Where in Portland?”

“Goodnight, Christian.”

“Y/N!”

I hang up. Ha! Though he didn’t tell me about the books. I frown. Mission not accomplished. I am really quite drunk - my head swims uncomfortably as I shuffle with the line. Well, the object of the exercise was to get drunk. I have succeeded. This is what it’s like – probably not an experience to be repeated.

The line has moved, and it’s now my turn. I stare blankly at the poster on the back of the toilet door that extols the virtues of safe sex.

Fuck, did I just call Christian Grey? Shit. My phone rings and it makes me jump. I yelp in surprise. “Hi,” I bleat timidly in to the phone. I hadn’t reckoned on this.

“I’m coming to get you,” he says and hangs up. Only Christian Grey could sound so calm and so threatening at the same time.

What the hell. I pull my skirt up. My heart is thumping. Coming to get me?

Oh no. I’m going to be sick… no… I’m fine. Hang on. He’s just messing with my head. I didn’t tell him where I was. He can’t find me here. Besides, it will take him hours to get here from Seattle, and we’ll be long gone by then. I wash my hands and check my face in the mirror.

I look flushed and slightly unfocused. Hmm… tequila.

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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

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The bar is crowded, full of students determined to have a good time. There’s some indie crap thumping over the sound system and the dance floor is crowded with heaving bodies.

It makes me feel old.

She’s here somewhere.

Elliot has followed me in through the front door. “Do you see her?” he shouts over the noise.

Scanning the room, I spot Isabella Clark. She’s with a group of friends, all of them men, sitting in a booth. There’s no sign of Y/N, but the table is littered with shot glasses and tumblers of beer.

Well, let’s see if Miss Clark is as loyal to her friend as Y/N is to her. She looks at me in surprise when we arrive at her table.

“Isabella,” I say by way of greeting, and she interrupts me before I can ask her Y/N’s whereabouts.

“Christian, what a surprise to see you here,” she shouts above the noise. The three guys at the table regard Elliot and me with hostile wariness.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“And who’s this?” She smiles rather too brightly at Elliot, interrupting me again. What an exasperating woman.

“This is my brother Elliot. Elliot, Isabella Clark. Where’s Y/N?”

Her smile broadens at Elliot, and I’m surprised by his answering grin.

“I think she went outside for some fresh air, she responds, but she doesn’t look at me. She has eyes only for Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em. Well, it’s her funeral.

“Outside? Where?” I shout.

“Oh. That way.” She points to double doors at the far end of the bar.

Pushing through the throng, I make my way to the door, leaving the three disgruntled men and Clark and Elliot engaged in a grin-off.

Through the double doors there is a line for the ladies’ washroom, and beyond that a door that’s open to the outside. It’s at the back of the bar. Ironically, it leads to the parking lot where Elliot and I have just been.

Walking outside, I find myself in a gathering space adjacent to the parking lot—a hangout flanked by raised flowerbeds, where a few people are smoking, drinking, chatting. Making out. I spot her.

Fucking hell. She’s with the photographer, I think, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. She’s in his arms, but she seems to be twisting away from him. He mutters something to her, which I don’t hear, and kisses her, along her jaw.

“José, no,” she says, and then it’s clear. She’s trying to push him off. She doesn’t want this.

For a moment I want to rip his head off. With my hands fisted at my side I march up to them. “I think the lady said no.” My voice carries, cold and sinister, in the relative quiet, while I struggle to contain my anger.

He releases Y/N and she squints at me with a dazed, drunken expression.

“Grey,” he says, his voice terse, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to smash the disappointment off his face.

Y/N heaves, then buckles over and vomits on the ground.

Oh, shit!

“Ugh—Dios mío, Y/N/N!” José leaps out of the way in disgust.

Fucking idiot.

Ignoring him, I grab her hair and hold it out of the way as she continues to throw up everything she’s had this evening. It’s with some annoyance that I note she doesn’t appear to have eaten. With my arm around her shoulders I lead her away from the curious onlookers toward one of the flowerbeds.

“If you’re going to throw up again, do it here. I’ll hold you.” It’s darker here. She can puke in peace. She vomits again and again, her hands on the brick. It’s pitiful. Once her stomach is empty, she continues to retch, long dry heaves.

Boy, she’s got it bad.

Finally her body relaxes and I think she’s finished. Releasing her, I give her my handkerchief, which by some miracle I have in the inside pocket of my jacket.

Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

Wiping her mouth, she turns and rests against the bricks, avoiding eye contact because she’s ashamed and embarrassed. And yet I’m so pleased to see her. Gone is my fury at the photographer. I’m delighted to be standing in the parking lot of a student bar in Portland with Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

She puts her head in her hands, cringes, then peeks up at me, still mortified. Turning to the door, she glares over my shoulder. I assume it’s at her “friend.”

“I’ll, um, see you inside,” José says, but I don’t turn to stare him down, and to my favour, she ignores him, too, returning her eyes to mine.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally, while her fingers twist the soft linen.

Okay, let’s have some fun.

“What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“The phone call, mainly. Being sick. The list goes on,” she mumbles.

“We’ve all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you.” Why is it such fun to tease this young woman? “It’s about knowing your limits, Y/N. I mean, I’m all for pushing limits, but really this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?”

Perhaps she has a problem with alcohol. The thought is worrying, and I consider whether I should call my mother for a referral to a detox clinic.

Y/N frowns for a moment, as if angry, that little v forming between her brows, and I suppress the urge to kiss it. But when she speaks she sounds contrite.

“No,” she says. “I’ve never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again.” She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused, and she sways a little. She might pass out, so without giving it a thought I scoop her up into my arms.

She’s surprisingly light. Too light. The thought irks me. No wonder she’s drunk.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“I need to tell Bella,” she says, as her head rests on my shoulder.

“My brother can tell her.”

“What?”

“My brother Elliot is talking to Miss Clark”

“Oh?”

“He was with me when you called.”

“In Seattle?”

“No, I’m staying at The Heathman.” And my wild-goose chase has paid off.

“How did you find me?”

“I tracked your cell phone, Y/N.” I head toward the car. I want to drive her home. “Do you have a jacket or a purse?”

“Er…yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to tell Bella. She’ll worry.”

I stop and bite my tongue. Clark wasn’t worried about her being out here with the overamorous photographer. Rodriguez. That’s his name. What kind of friend is she? The lights from the bar illuminate her anxious face.

As much as it pains me, I put her down and agree to take her inside. Holding hands, we walk back into the bar, stopping at Bella’s table. One of the young men is still sitting there, looking annoyed and abandoned.

“Where’s Bella?” Y/N shouts above the noise.

“Dancing,” the guy says, his dark eyes staring at the dance floor. She collects her leather black coat and purse and, reaching out, she unexpectedly clutches my arm.

I freeze.

Shit.

My heart rate catapults into overdrive as the darkness surfaces, stretching and tightening its claws around my throat.

“She’s on the dance floor,” she shouts, her words tickling my ear, distracting me from my fear. And suddenly the darkness disappears and the pounding in my heart ceases.

What?

I roll my eyes to hide my confusion and take her to the bar, order a large glass of water, and pass it to her.

“Drink.”

Eyeing me over the glass, she takes a tentative sip.

“All of it,” I command. I’m hoping this will be enough damage control to avoid one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

What might have happened to her if I hadn’t intervened? My mood sinks.

And I think of what just happened to me. Her touch. My reaction.

My mood plummets further.

Y/N sways a little as she’s drinking, so I steady her with a hand on her shoulder. I like the connection—me touching her.

She finishes her drink, and retrieving the glass, I place it on the bar. Okay. She wants to talk to her so-called friend. I survey the crowded dance floor, uneasy at the thought of all those bodies pressing in on me as we fight our way through.

Steeling myself, I grab her hand and lead her toward the dance floor. She hesitates, but if she wants to talk to her friend, there’s only one way; she’s going to have to dance with me. Once Elliot gets his groove on, there’s no stopping him; so much for his quiet night in.

With a tug, she’s in my arms.

This I can handle. When I know she’s going to touch me, it’s okay. I can deal, especially since I’m wearing my jacket. I weave us through the crowd to where Elliot and Bella are making a spectacle of themselves.

Still dancing, Elliot leans toward me in mid-strut when we’re beside him and sizes us up with a look of incredulity.

“I’m taking Y/N home. Tell Bella,” I shout in his ear.

He nods and pulls Clark into his arms.

Right. Let me take Miss Drunk Bookworm home, but for some reason she seems reluctant to go. She’s watching Clark with concern. When we’re off the dance floor she looks back at Bella, then at me, swaying and a little dazed.

“Fuck—” By some miracle I catch her as she passes out in the middle of the bar. I’m tempted to haul her over my shoulder, but we’d be too conspicuous, so I pick her up once more, cradling her against my chest, and take her outside to the car.

“Christ,” I mutter as I fish the key out of my jeans and hold her at the same time. Amazingly, I manage to get her into the front seat and strap her in.

“Y/N.” I give her a little shake, because she’s worryingly quiet. “Y/N!”

She mumbles something incoherent and I know she’s still conscious. I know I should take her home, but it’s a long drive to Vancouver, and I don’t know if she’ll be sick again. I don’t relish the idea of my Audi reeking of vomit. The smell emanating from her clothes is already noticeable.

I head to The Heathman, telling myself that I’m doing this for her sake.

Yeah, tell yourself that, Grey.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She sleeps in my arms as we travel up in the elevator from the garage. I need to get her out of her skirt and her shoes. The stale stench of vomit pervades the space. I’d really like to give her a bath, but that would be stepping beyond the bounds of propriety.

And this isn’t?

In my suite, I drop her purse on the sofa, then carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She mumbles once more but doesn’t wake. Briskly I remove her shoes and put them in the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. Then I unzip her skirt and pull it off stuffing the piece of clothing in the laundry bag.

She falls back on the bed, splayed out like a starfish, all pale arms and legs, and for a moment I picture those legs wrapped around my waist as her wrists are bound to my Saint Andrew’s cross.

I sit her up and she opens her eyes. “Hello, Y/N,” I whisper, as I remove her jacket slowly and without her cooperation.

“Grey. Kiss,” she mutters.

“Yes, sweetheart.” I ease her down onto the bed. She closes her eyes again and rolls onto her side, but this time huddles into a ball, looking small and vulnerable. I pull the covers over her and plant a kiss in her hair.

Now that her filthy clothes have gone, a trace of her scent has reappeared. Apples, fall, fresh, delicious…Y/N. Her lips are parted, eyelashes fanning out over pale cheeks, and her skin looks flawless. One more touch is all I allow myself as I stroke her cheek with the back of my index finger.

“Sleep well,” I murmur, and then head into the living room to complete the laundry list. When it’s done, I place the offending bag outside my suite so the contents will be collected and laundered.

Before I check my e-mails I text Welch, asking him to see if José Rodriguez has any police records. I’m curious. I want to know if he preys on drunk young women. Then I address the issue of clothes for Miss Y/L/N: I send a quick e-mail to Taylor.

•••

From: Christian Grey

RE: Miss Anastasia Steele

Date: May 20, 2023 23:46

To: J B Taylor.

——

Can you please find the following items for Miss Steele and have them delivered to my usual room before 10:00.

Skirt: Black Size 4

Shirt: White. Pretty. Size 4

Boots: Black Size 7

Socks: Size 7

Lingerie: Underwear—Size Small. Bra—Estimate 36C

Thank you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

•••

Once it’s disappeared from my outbox, I text Elliot.

Y/N is with me. If you’re still with Bella, tell her.

He texts by return.

Will do. Hope you get laid. You soooo need it. ;)

His response makes me snort.

I so do, Elliot. I so do.

I open my work e-mail and begin to read.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Nearly two hours later, I come to bed. It’s just after 1:45. She’s fast asleep and hasn’t moved from where I left her. I strip, pull on my pajama pants and a T-shirt, and climb in beside her. She’s comatose; it’s unlikely she’s going to thrash around and touch me.

I hesitate for a moment as the darkness swells within me, but it doesn’t surface and I know it’s because I’m watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I’m breathing in sync with her.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. For seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, I watch her. And while she sleeps I survey every beautiful inch of her lovely face. Her dark lashes fluttering while she sleeps, her lips slightly parted so I glimpse her even white teeth.

She mutters something unintelligible and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It’s arousing, very arousing. Finally I fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ series masterlist ]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

#christian grey #christian grey fanfic #christian grey smut #christian grey x reader #christian grey x yn #christian grey x you #smut #50 shades of gray #jamie dornan #christian grey series #dark themes

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questionableratatouille00 · 7 months

Text

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 4

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve mentioning his regrets about what he did during a traumatic event prompts Y/n to think about her own regrets. This sends her into a spiral, but a very special outing helps her out. Especially when the invite comes from that same redhead.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: grief, mentions of a dead lover, heart attacks, talks of trauma, cursing, self-hating thoughts.

🌻Series Masterlist 🌻

————————————————————————

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭

“I regret what I did. When it happened.” Steve confessed, and you frowned.

“Would you like to share more about what happened?” Coulson invited him to speak.

“There isn’t very much to share. I was thirteen, my dad and I were outside. He was cutting down a tree, and then…well, he just clutched his chest and fell over. I think he called for help. I can’t…can’t remember it very clearly. But I just stood there. I just stood there like an idiot.” Steve swallows, clearing his throat.

“And I’m not saying he was the best dad, or the best man, because he wasn’t. He was a drunk, and he’d do stupid shit when he was drunk. But I’d never…never seen someone die before.” He rubbed his hands together every so often. “I regret it. If I’d done something, maybe he could’ve lived.”

“That’s not your fault, you know.” Wanda says gently. “You were a child. You couldn’t control that.”

Steve just shrugged in response.

“Does anybody else want to share similar feelings or memories?” Coulson addressed the crowd.

Regret. You understood that feeling. You regret what you did the morning of the accident. How you didn’t get to tell her goodbye that morning before she went to work. How you didn’t tell her that you loved her.

Warm sunlight spilled through the blinds of your bedroom, the blankets strewn about the bed. You’d chosen these bedsheets together, you remembered. You’d picked them out in the store together, soon before you moved into your apartment. These were good bedsheets. Warm, and comfortable, and safe.

You heard the distant sound of Natasha making coffee in the kitchen. You wanted to get up, to kiss her cheek and tell her you loved her before she went off to work. But God, you were so tired, and the sheets were so comfortable and warm and safe. Besides, you’d see her later anyway. She was only going to work. She’d come back around dinner time, and then you two could cook together or she’d bring something home. Like any other day.

But it hadn’t been any other day. You knew that now. God, you were such an ass. You should’ve just gotten out of bed like a normal, functioning human being and told your girlfriend you loved her and hoped she had a good day. It was so easy. Why couldn’t you have just done it?

But now Natasha is gone, and the last time you got to talk to her was the night before she fucking died, and what had you said to her?

“Can you take the trash out when you leave tomorrow?” Fuck, you wanted to beat yourself with a chair. Your last words to your girlfriend were asking her to take out the fucking garbage. Not ‘I love you, goodnight’ or ‘you’re my everything’ but ‘hey, can you take out my fucking garbage because I can’t get up off my ass and do it myself?’

You weren’t very present as you listened to the rest of the meeting, and you weren’t present when you walked out to your car, either.

“Hey,” a familiar feminine voice called for your attention. “Are you alright?”

You looked over your shoulder to see the redhead. “Yeah. Yeah, m’fine.”

“Are you..sure?” She asked softly. God, there was something about her, about the way she spoke, that made you want to tell her everything.

Fuck, you were just downright awful, huh? You couldn’t even be bothered to tell your girlfriend that she mattered to you, and now you’re just going to dump your baggage onto every attractive person you meet?

“I…” You trailed off, opting to rub your thumb against your keys. You decided to just shrug in response.

“Would—would you like to get lunch together? Tomorrow?” She blurted out. She bit her lip immediately after, and you could tell she regretted saying it.

But you nodded. You couldn’t lie, you’d been attracted to her.

“Great. Uhm—here’s my number.” She hands you a tiny piece of paper, and you’d realized that she’d been waiting to give this to you.

“Thanks.” You smiled. She nodded quickly, rushing off to her car. You chuckled to yourself, opening your car door and getting inside. You didn’t feel as shitty anymore.

As you drove home, you couldn’t help but think about her. You and Wanda were always pretty friendly with each other, exchanging a few words or compliments here and there.

———————

The next day, you made sure you didn’t look like you’d just rolled out of bed, taking the time to pick out a decent, matching outfit and even accessorizing with a necklace. It wasn’t fancy by any means, you were just going out to a cafe. You’d texted with Wanda about where the two of you were going to go, and you’d both eventually decided to meet at the cafe at 12:30.

You were out the door at 12:00, driving down to the cafe as you anxiously anticipated the…whatever this qualified as. It wasn’t a date. It couldn’t have been a date, Wanda liked men and only men, right? Just because someone isn’t homophobic doesn’t mean they’re gay.

When you arrived, she parked next to you.

“Hey,” you greeted awkwardly, wiping your sweaty hand on your thigh.

“Hi.” She smiled, and her nose crinkled. It was adorable, and she looked genuinely happy to see you.

You walked inside together, ordering your food and taking it to a table to sit down. You’d ordered your favorite food from the cafe, and she’d gotten a cup of soup with a half of a sandwich.

You chatted about anything and everything, and you smiled warmly throughout the entire conversation. Wanda had that effect on people. Even in group therapy, whenever she talked to anyone they ended up smiling.

You’d been to a quite a few meetings, getting to know everybody. The weather was still decently warm and the sun was still out, but it was clear that fall was approaching.

“Any plans for Halloween?” You asked after a few moments of silence where the two of you were eating.

“No, I don’t think so. I normally have a bunch of trick-or-treaters, so I’m probably going to end up decorating a lot this year.” She explains. “Normally my husband would’ve helped, but..” she shrugged, smiling up at you lightly. You envied Wanda in her ability to be so put together after losing a partner. Her husband, no less. Natasha meant the world to you, and maybe one day you would’ve gotten married, but there’s a whole lot of extra stuff to do when your spouse dies, isn’t there?

“I might invite the group over and we could do it together. I’d make or get dinner or something, and we’d get time to get to know each other outside of therapy. Maybe that’s not what I’m supposed to do, but they all seem like really nice people. What do you think?” She suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d be willing to help, if you want.”

She smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

#moving on #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 9 months

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Trimax Thoughts Vol. 10 Pt. 1

Stream of consciousness again. Here goes (I say with a lot of trepidation even though I have a sinking feeling I already know what's going to happen)

Coming back to edit the beginning here to, ah... inform you all that this pretty quickly devolved into a record of my complete mental breakdown. So, uh, idk, maybe this will be actually somewhat funny to read, especially for those of you who knew what was coming. My tears will be your balm for this week. Maybe.

I don't know how to verbalize this but there's something about this image I really like compositionally. There's something about it that evokes a kind of bittersweet peace. It just really sets a tone for what I'm pretty sure I know is to come. I am not ready.

"It's 'specially because of times like these that an idiot like him plays an important role. He's doin' somethin' extraordinary. He believes." <- so so so very true! A light in the dark is not just rebellious, it's necessary. He's allowing himself to hope, not because he suddenly believes as strongly as Vash in the world at large (he's still far from that) but because he believes in Vash himself.

Fuck right off Chapel.

He's literally being impaled by a cross. There's. Something to read in that but I'm sorry I know nothing about Catholicism/Christianity...

"obsessive sense of attachment" <- so long as his disciples do as he molds them to do. in that sense, it's a little reminiscent of Knives' desperation to keep Vash with him and his quick anger when Vash does not behave the way he expects him to, but it also kind of makes Chapel the anti-Wolfwood, in a way. The true lack of hope, the way he would apparently do just about anything for his child disciples, but only out of a sense of them being easier to mold/manipulate, rather than Wolfwood's genuine love for the kids at the orphanage, and the compassion he's shown downtrodden kids in general. Chapel values Razlo because he values his usefulness, which unfortunately makes sense as to why Razlo would be so loyal to him. I have to wonder the circumstances that led to Razlo killing all those people... I don't think it would've been for no reason at all - he killed Livio's parents because they were abusing them, killed the dog likely because of a grave miscalculation of cause-and-effect when it came to Jasmine almost dying, and killed the men who were tormenting Livio when he ran off. But anyways I hate how the EoM keeps shackling him and restraining him like he's some feral animal. Has anyone ever been kind to Razlo? Has anyone ever rewarded him for anything other than being useful? Look, kid had some serious issues that needed to have been addressed (instead of training the severely traumatized hair-trigger violent kid to be... even more violent lol what did they expect would happen?), but... look at him. He was still very much a kid who saw someone who proved that he was useful to them through an incredibly violent act - the only language Razlo actually understood. Idk if there's any reaching him now but... ugh.

Orphanage lady I adore you. Also the kids refusing to scatter hjdfhbvsjdf

"Why else would he bite the hand of his master?" Really, with this and the way Razlo is restrained in flashbacks, we're going for a strong "trained attack dog" theme going on here huh? Fuck you dude. (There's also "bite the hand that feeds you" as an expression... which is interesting too, because Chapel clearly feels Wolfwood should feel honoured by his teachings... but his was never the hand that fed. Chapel tore this child down.)

NO FUCK OFF THIS IS WHAT HE WAS MOST AFRAID OF. And I hate this so much more because this means that Chapel actually knows Wolfwood's fears quite well... but ASSHOLE WHOSE FAULT IS THIS?

Yes!!! They love you! Get loved, idiot!!!!! You never had to do everything alone... :')

*ugly sobbing*

I still think Wolfwood tried to do this alone out of a sense of personal accountability and not wanting to burden Vash with his own problems - while he thinks they could've done this as a team here, I think he's still only thinking in "I failed" rather than realizing that helping would've been far from a burden. If that makes any sense. I still think Wolfwood devalues how much he matters to the people he cares about.

Here he is! Using his Plant powers without hesitation again to intervene and help Wolfwood. I can't believe the way they allow each other to become less afraid.

"I made a friend." Yes! You! Did!!! I reiterate! GET LOVED.

Aaaaaaand Wolfwood still can't quite wrap his head around the idea that his personal struggles might actually be incredibly important to Vash. See, I don't think it's that Wolfwood thinks Vash doesn't care about him - far from it, I think he definitely knows that - the heartbreaking part is the way he never seems to think he is anyone's priority. (And he really has become a priority to Vash hasn't he? He's postponing the confrontation with Knives to help him. :O) Also the way "I can't believe it." is overlayed on the panel with the church bell and the "angel" wing. Ha. Nice. Nice. This is fine.

I'm sorry but this made me laugh so hard. Imagine some angel looking guy appears out of nowhere and blocks all your bullets. Like. Yeah. That would be the response hdjfhbsdjfvh (Also I think this is a fantastic reaction image pfft)

"That overdose will make your heart rupture!" ...no...

Did he just throw Chapel? Is he dead???

AUGH I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE SUNGLASSES. He's trying to hide his eyes again (just like he does earlier in the series when he's about to shoot with lethal intent/is trying to hide his feelings) because he thinks they reveal him as a monster or irredeemable - they do not. They never have. But Vash... apparently either hearing his thoughts or just knowing him well enough to know what he needs and responding to that instantly... :'(

...I wonder... is this the first time Razlo has registered a death as cruel? Chapel died instantly; that's not really all that cruel... the cruel part is that Razlo is experiencing personal loss.

NOOOO WE'RE GETTING A FLASHBACK TO THEIR FIRST MEETING WITH VASH'S THOUGHTS AND THE FUCKING BIRD??? THE BIRD REALLY IS MEANT TO BE VASH AND HIS IDEALS, ISN'T IT? AUGH

AW YEAH THEY'RE TAG-TEAMING BABY!!! Everything is different when they are back to back :)

Ahdjfhvbd and now they're saying the exact same things at the same time. Soulmate behaviour fr

I missed them being silly together so much... it's amazing too, because in spite of the situation, they both seem so much less tense than earlier. Still though... "why are you here?" and he can't spit out an answer, even though it should be really obvious... like I think they both know but accepting/admitting that is another matter.

God this is such an "I missed you I'm so glad you're here" moment. Probably as close as Wolfwood is going to get to outright saying that

Hello? Wolfwood's loved ones in one panel right next to Vash's loved ones in the other? Vash repeating Wolfwood's arguments of "realism" and "have to get back to the kids"? Wolfwood, you're scaring him...

I'm fascinated that the "he had become very close to me" part is overlayed with the scene where Wolfwood tries to get Vash to shoot. The whole "if I pull that out of you"... then combined with "What is important? What are we willing to do to protect it?" ...Livio and Vash are important to Wolfwood, so he is trying hard not to kill. Has Wolfwood become so important to Vash that... he might?

YOU CAN SEE HIS EYES THROUGH THE SUNGLASSES AHHHH

NO. NO. NO. HE WANTS TO LIVE PAST KNIVES. HE WANTS A FUTURE. HE WANTS A FUTURE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE STORY. HE WANTS WOLFWOOD THERE WITH HIM. ALSO I JUST NOTICED HE TOSSED HIS FUCKING GUN ASIDE TO CATCH HIM. He doesn't want this kind of life for them... he wants peace for them both... he wants them to stick together, even when there are no more battles to fight... he wants to live for Wolfwood. He wants to live with Wolfwood. Oh my god. No. No.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

STOP. WHY WOULD YOU FOCUS ON THE HAND. IT'S DIGGING INTO HIS BACK. He can't hold him... he can't...

Hey uh. Does it mean something that Vash didn't even react or feel the knives (the knives) in his shoulder because the pain of this hurts so much worse right now? (Also did I need to cause myself emotional damage by writing that out?)

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Oh damn I think he is mad enough to kill. Holy shit.

In other news. I hate everything.

The sunglasses blown off his face again. When Razlo threatens Vash. Fuck off.

This fight scene is awesome and I love how brutal yet clever of a fighter Wolfwood is. ...I wish I could enjoy it more. Alas. I feel only pain.

I'LL NEVER BE WHOLE AGAIN. I'LL NEVER BE WHOLE AGAIN. RAZLO'S LINE AND THEN THIS. WHY WHY WHY

:O (reminds me of the Diablo chapter...)

Ok first off how the hell was Chapel still alive. Secondly, AHEOHJBFSHUCBSJVHSBJHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Livio :') (I feel pretty bad for Razlo though all things considered... I hope he's not gone for good? That'd be weird I think...)

Wolfwood, after all this shit, just laying on the ground: "yeah seems like a good time for a cigarette"

AHH AHH AHH AHH AHH AHH AHH AHHHHHHHHHH

HNNNNGGGHDFBSUHCBUHSB... HHHHH A BAPY

wait. how could it have only been six years. what.

NOOOOOOO GOD THIS IS JUST LIKE VASH THINKING MERYL WAS SCARED OF HIM ALL OVER AGAIN. SWEETIE NO I AM POSITIVE THAT KID ONLY SCREAMED BECAUSE OF THE BLOOD. THEY LOVE YOUUUUU

...oof. I think Livio's hiding too. :(

GHHHHHHHHHHH THE COINS

Hjfshvbdfjhbv Livio comic relief. I'm so sorry buddy but I needed that. Hope you're ok...?

...so this is the scene the "infamous couch" is from. Okay. Okay. I get it now. Ow.

...I'm actually fighting back tears right now. I. I don't usually cry at stuff like this. I don't know if I can do this man.

He wants him to smile even if it's not a real one. He just wants to know he'll be ok. But Vash can't smile. He can't handle this kind of genuine talk. It'll make it all real. He's actually praying. Praying for just this one person. He's. He's never done that before, has he...?

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

ugh yeah no i'm crying. i'm tearing up. oww...

Oh, well, so is Wolfwood. Ugh. Ow. Ow.

...I saw the bell and had to stop and take a break. I don't want to turn the page. I don't want this. I'll come back tomorrow. Bye.

Hhhhh... What if you died knowing you were loved and you didn't realize how much until the end. What if you died realizing you always could've come home; that you would always be recognized for who you are, not what you'd been cruelly forced to become. What if you died seeing a possible future with the ones you loved but never being able to obtain it. Because it is far, far too late for that. The gratitude, the relief, the anguish that it all ends just as you realize what you could've had, and you cry out. But you still died knowing you were loved. And that's far more than you ever imagined for yourself.

I like to think he was smiling at the end because... it finally sank in.

And the bottle is labelled Bride??? What does that mean??? (Oh wait now I want to go back and look at the other alcohol bottles in the series to see if there's anything interesting on them) But uh, yeah, is this a religious thing, because I'm... why Bride. Why "The Bride". Huh?

^Hey this is really effective. Also, fuck off.

^Nightow sensei WHAT THE HELL MAN. Was this necessary?

Yeah I saw the first page of chapter 8 and my entire stomach just lurched. I think we should all receive compensation for emotional damage here. The bird... but it's not the black kite (Vash)... what kind of bird is that, I wonder?

Ah... Vash buried him. Alone. Hm. Yes, feeling normal about this. (Also Livio woke up inside the house which means... he must've moved him there too...)

"What do you mean "why"? You of all people should know why." <-oh. ow. yikes...

Oh... oh. His hair. :(

And it's so... he protected the area from the Ark. Ok he's protecting the place Wolfwood died to protect. Par for the course for Vash really. Except... hasn't everyone here evacuated already? He's protecting the place itself. ...also idk if this is right or not, but given the way the black hair is expending his own lifeforce it's... kind of hard not to see this a little as him expending the time he was planning on sharing with Wolfwood... and also that his hair went black... like the colour of mourning. ...with the "Bride" thing too it's... no. I shan't say it. I hate it here.

Hhhhhh... they both associate him with food...

Well. This has wrecked me. Thank you guys. I don't think I can analyze anything this week I'm too sad.

#trigun #trimax #trigunbookclub #how could you do this to meeeeeee #storyrambles

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cdragons · 5 months

Text

Revenant

Summary: Kol Mikaelson's soul manages to leave and travel while he still remains daggered in his coffin. While he wanders around and bitches about his life, he meets an unexpected friend. Warning(s): VERY HEAVY crack fic, technical crossover of fandoms, weird shit, Kol is a horny-ass gremlin, Druig & Kaety are obsessed with each other, Kol has a thing for witches bc he got mommy issues, Klaus is a bitch

Note: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it! This fic came from an idea that I shared with @ethereal-athalia, and it is VERY much a crack fic. I don't have any plans in continuing this idea, but I wanted to write it out as a Christmas gift to @ethereal-athalia for how much of a good friend she's been to me. I never would have been able to do any of my fics without her in my corner. I own only my Hecate!OC. I do not own either Druig from Eternals, or Kol from TVD franchise. Also, Druig still very much exists in this fic and world bc I physically CANNOT write Kaety without Druig. Stay safe and hope that your upcoming year brings you all good health and happiness!

Kol hated being dead. Truly dead. Dead in a way that he couldn’t move or speak or live.

At least when he turned as a gift Mother Dearest he could still walk, even if he couldn’t use the arcane anymore. But of course, he would still always find his way back to witches and their magic. He couldn’t help it if he exuded that charm that made him so irresistible.

Gods, just remembering how pathetically sex-deprived his physical form was currently almost made him weep. He couldn’t wait until the moment he got that fucking silver dagger out of his chest. Nik was going to get it when he finally got out.

Sure, he may have crossed a line when he stated that Nik had a pair of buttocks flatter than a sheet of paper. But was he the one that gave his brother such lacking assets? No. That fault lied entirely with their mother and his biological father, thank you very much.

But alas, here his soul was, walking in a forest in the middle of some mosquito-flooded country.

At the very least, his gorgeous body was safe from the onslaught of bug bites and sweltering humidity. Only in the fucking Amazon did winter feel like summer.

Kol audibly groaned once more at the thought of his immaculate figure rotting away thanks to Nik. He couldn’t bear to think about how his illustrious fair skin being that dull grayish hue from being confined by death. At least when Bekah got daggered, Nik had the decency to make sure that her body remained stored in proper conditions and carefully encased in magic to prevent any harm coming to her. He had no guarantee. No, such love and devotion only went to ‘Lijah and Bekah when it came to Nik.

Story of his life: always an outsider, even with his own fucking siblings. Gods, he wanted nothing more than have his powers return to him. At least with magic by his side he’d finally be able to show Nik he wasn’t the only one with threats, he’d show him, he’d –

“Well, well, well,” came a new voice, “aren’t you a strange sight?”

Kol immediately turned his head to locate the mindless idiot that dared to interrupt his thoughts. Did humans devolve so pathetically that they no longer understood that when they see a soul wandering alone, that soul would likely be uninterested in any attempts of conversation? But looking at the individual who spoke to him, he was shocked beyond himself to witness such a devastatingly gorgeous woman before him. She had dark almond-shaped eyes and tall with legs that went on for miles. And her thick and illustrious raven waves practically flowed down the middle of her back like a black waterfall.

Dare he say it, this woman was almost as beautiful than him.

But regardless of how pleasing her outward appearance may be, she still would not be spared from his fury.

Pity, he would have loved to wrap those legs around his waist if he were actually here.

The corners of the woman’s lips went upward, and the cupid’s bow of her mouth was slightly pursed as she smirked, making her lips look plumper and more bitable than how they had right to be in the Original’s opinion. It was only a few seconds before the succubus burst out laughing. Her entire body arched with her back as she simply couldn’t contain herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said once he began to calm down, “but I’m afraid that I happen to be very happily married. In fact, I have been for the past near seven thousand years.” After making a quick glance up and down Kol’s near transparent form, she continued with a cat-like grin. “And I highly doubt someone as woefully young as you could satisfy a woman like me.”

Oh, now he was offended. Not being able to satisfy– did this woman have any idea who she was talking to? The list of names of men and women that swore they only believed in Heaven when Kol fucked them was so long that it would wrap the Earth twice. And she better believe than each time was more than consensual – they were begging him very enthusiastically to say the least. Who was this lady to assume –

Wait, did she say seven thousand years?

As if she could hear his thoughts, all the woman did was smiled before extending her hand.

“I think I’d like it very much if you and I became friends.”

Extending his own, Kol was surprised to see that his hand didn’t just pass through like it normally would for most physical objects. He could actually grasp her hand and feel the warmth passing through it. For the first time in…forever, Kol felt warmth flooding through him. He stared into her eyes, wondering how on Earth someone could live for seven thousand years. Even if she had the gift of mediumship, his presence was too well-hidden for even the most gifted and powerful medium to sense him.

Kol had to know more of her. He’d go mad if he didn’t.

“What are you exactly?” he carefully asked.

He could sense that this person was a being of extreme power. In the top of her finger, she likely contained far more power than Nik could possibly imagine, even in his wildest dreams. It seemed that being an invisible soul floating in the wind had its perks after all. If he was alive, walking and about, he’d never come across this marvel of a woman.

“I’d prefer if you began that question with ‘who’ than ‘what,’ but I suppose that matters little in this situation. My name is Kaetlyn, I prefer Kaet for my friends, but you may know me better as-”

“Hekate,” he whispered in awe, “Goddess of Magic. Titaness Mother of Witches and Monsters.”

“Surprised in a good way I hope?” Kaet asked with one brow raised.

“More or less, but I did imagine you about 30 feet taller with the night sky for skin and two more heads.”

“Well,” she softly chuckled, “I hope I didn’t disappoint you with my appearance. Now I’ll forgive you just this once for interrupting me. But only if you allow me to take you to my home.”

“Oh?” Kol asked, a salacious grin spreading across his face. Now things were getting interesting.

“Save it Kol Mikaelson-” ordered the ancient goddess as she raised her hand to her face as she pointed at him in warning- “I am taking you to the village that I run with my husband. So, I suggest that you keep your hands to yourself because he has a nasty little habit of being showing exactly how off-limits I am to youngsters such as yourself.”

“I never told you my-”

“You were once a witch, and I am the mother of magic. All witches and their magic came from me, including you.”

It really was so unfair how good she looked while talking over him. Oh well, he might as well play along. Finally, something interesting was happening in his life.

“So, who is this husband of yours, darling? And how can you be so sure that your husband could be a threat to me? You know who I am, what I became. What makes you so sure that once I enter your village, I won’t use my ghostly ways to end him.”

When Kol finished, he immediately felt a shift in the air. It was as if the sun had disappeared and the jungle went silent. It seemed that the animals that served as their audience went dead silent as if they were in anticipation for his end. The kind and amiable mirth of the chthonic witch shifted to dangerous and cold.

Kol had lived for over 700 years and after everything he done and witnessed, he had never felt such chill run down his spine.

“Listen well,” she began – her tone laced with the power and authority that came from someone of her position, “I won’t try to humor you with answering that ridiculous question, nor do I intend to let you presume that my kindness can be mistaken for naivety. My husband is one with abilities as ancient and powerful as mine. If you truly knew what he was capable of, you’d be far more terrified of him than you ever were of your father. That being said, if you ever try to threaten my husband or even think about go so far to joke about it again, I promise you that I can produce torture and incite fear that would make the devil weep in pity for you.”

Oh fuck, even as a ghost, Kol should not have been as aroused by her threats as he was in that moment.

But soon the tension dissipated and warmth from the sun returned to pass through him once more.

“Now that we have that matter cleared up, we really should get going. The sun’s about to set and you never know what or who would be lurking at night.”

With that being the final word, The Good Lady of the Night and Shadows turned around and made her way back to where he presumed to be the location of her home village. And what else could he do but follow her by how the slight sway of her hips seemed to beckon him.

Threats and chills mixed a beautiful witch with magic more ancient than time itself, Kol couldn’t remember the last time he felt so alive.

Authors' Note: And when Kol enters the village, he tries to flirt with Kaet in front of Druig like a dumbass, and his soul gets a major ass-whooping.

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @klauslove, @carolineforbae, @misssophiachase

Reblog and comment and like and share to anyone you think may like to read this fic!

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mageofseven · 11 months

Text

Our Child: My Turn

Barbatos Mpreg

Barb's turn! Also, I see this occurring right after his section in this post, but this story also isn't dependent on that info so no worries~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Barbatos had summoned the doctor, just as he told his girlfriend he would.

The man stayed with MC for the entire appointment, holding her hand as the doctor checked over her and did various tests.

The butler was as composed as ever, wanting to be a calming presence for his love in this stressful situation.

It only got more stressful, however. After the tests were complete, it was all confirmed: MC was carrying his child.

Tears filled the human's eyes and she embracd her boyfriend in the tightest hug she could.

"I'm sorry..." She hid her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

The woman knew his stance on children, how he'd prefer to never be a father because of his job, and felt like she just made things so much more difficult for him.

"My dear, it's alright." He stroked her back with a gloved hand before pulling back and having her eyes meet his. "None of this is your fault."

"But I'm pregnant--"

"And I put the child there." He laid his hand on her still-flat belly and frowned slightly. "This...was my doing so please do not feel any guilt."

Because in his mind, the guilt fell on his shoulders. He was the one who didn't want children because of his job and his genetics. It was his responsibility to make sure this never happened and he failed.

"But...how is this happening? We were so careful...is this going to be okay? Will I even be able to handle this physically?"

Barb pursed his lips. He understood her concern; she was human after all, a fragile being who now was carrying the child of a demon.

"Would you like me to look into this for you, my dear? See what issues may arise?" The man didn't like using his future vision, but if it could bring comfort to his love's heart and help them during this difficult time, he'll do so.

The woman gave a tearful nod and Barb kissed her forehead.

"Alright, my pet. Please give me some time."

And with that, the man's eyes glowed and he was gone, mentally anyway. He searched the closest rivers of time, the most likely paths their lives will take...and saw them all end in MC's death. Neither her body or mind could handle carrying his child. He saw his child torture the woman with visions so painful that she begged for death

But outside of the visions, she was strong and refused to give up the child who was torturing her. She was exhausted, but extremely protective of their child...and nothing Barb said in any of these timelines could convince the woman to save herself.

He kept searching through other streams of time, trying desperately to find a method that could save his beloved

And found it. He saw the cover of a strange book followed by a ritual between the two, transferring the child from her body into his own

And that was the only method he found to save MC and their child from this horrible situation.

"Barb! Barb!!!"

The butler faded back into the present to find his girlfriend crying and shaking him. He felt tears on his own face as well.

The man's body must have started crying while he was gone and it scared the human.

Barb wiped the tears from MC's cheeks and leaned in to kiss her.

"All will be fine, my pet." He told her though he obviously had some preparation to do in order to make his words true.

From there, the two went to the castle's library, the one used for leisure by the Royal Family.

He described the cursive design he saw on the book and the two scanned the shelves.

Somehow, it didn't take long for MC to find it on one of the upper shelves and hand it to their boyfriend.

Barb found the section he needed and read through it; it seemed simple enough to the butler, though he would definitely need time to memorize the incantation.

Overall, it seemed doable to the man. This is when he informed his girlfriend how they'll get through it; they'll wait till she's eight weeks along and then they'll do the ritual so he can carry their child for her.

The woman was surprised; she had never thought such a thing was possible, but her boyfriend assured her that it was and that it was perfectly safe.

Despite the couple's fear, they both handled the next couple weeks well. Yes, morning sickness wasn't pleasant for the human, but the butler was always there when she needed him and took care of her the best he could.

The two did the ritual at night in his room.

Barb carefully drew the runes on her body, pausing on her stomach.

"Barb?"

The man leaned in and kissed the little pouch where her belly already grew...where his child grew.

Still at level with her belly, the man looked up and saw the cute blush on her face.

"You trust me, don't you, my dear?"

MC nodded before Barb rose and kissed her lips.

"I appreciate it, my pet."

And with that, he drew the last rune over her small belly before removing his shirt and repeating the same runes on his body.

Once finished, the two laid on his bed or rather, the man laid on the bed and MC laid on top of him.

He could tell his love was nervous so for the first minute or so, he just held her close and stroke her hair.

Once he could feel MC's heartbeat calm, he kissed her head and started the incantation.

The human's breath hitched and she squirmed against her boyfriend, but luckily kept her belly against him. The feeling that spread through her belly was warm and strange, a sensation so indescribable that it scared the woman.

Next was Barb. The normally composed man released a grown, but did his best to focus on the spell despite the new sensation and his girlfriend's worried eyes.

MC hid her face in in Barb's chest, doing her best to wait it out.

Finally, the feeling subsided and the couple relaxed against each other.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Barb asked as he stroked her back.

"Are you?" The human asked, still worried.

"Perfectly." He gave his girlfriend a kiss and brushed some hair back from her face. "You're safe now; how could I be anything but wonderful?"

His girlfriend's life was saved; now all that was left was to carry their child to term and bring them into the world.

Barbatos thought of this only in it's simplicity however and didn't truly stop to think about all of the changes to his body that would occur from this.

He knew his belly would grow as his child did, a tiny little girl from what his vision showed him.

He did not mind this one bit; after all, this growth was a physical sign that his daughter was developing well inside inside him.

He also had no issues with the new 'part' between his legs; the man was grateful that his daughter had a proper exit already prepared for her arrival.

What Barbatos didn't expect were the dizzy spells and the headaches. Oh devil, the headaches.

These issues made it so difficult for the man to do his job properly. Luckily, MC was there for her boyfriend, helping with his work load and taking care of the expecting man.

Things got worse for the pregnant man around the fifth month however.

This is when the attacks started, the same ones MC suffered through in the timeline where she carried their daughter to term.

They were different for Barb though. For MC, her mind was tortured by visions from obsolete timelines, potential outcomes that could have happened, but never came to pass. Most involved her own death or the deaths of those she loved. This happened because the baby was starting to get these visions and had no control of them so both mama and baby suffered together.

For Barbatos, he never got the whole visions. Unlike MC or their baby, this man was trained to deal with this power. When a horrible vision would start up, he'd force it away from both his daughter's and his own mind.

This took so much energy from the dad though, causing him to have none left for his work. MC took over an even bigger chunk of his workload, so much that Diavolo insisted on paying the woman. The prince was very understanding of his bulter's condition and encouraged the pregnant man to get as much rest as possible.

This exhaustion, this was what he hated the most about his pregnancy. Even once his child is born and he is asked what the worst part of the pregnancy was, he says this; he even tells people it was worse than the actual birth because he couldn't do much...in truth, the man felt like a burden.

It was his job to take care of others, especially his lord, but his pregnancy took that from him. He felt ashamed, like he was the worse type of person, the worst butler.

Not that he would admit these feelings; no, that would just make things worse for him.

Still...MC could tell her love's spirits were low. She'd always spend as much time as she could with him, cuddling with him in bed and telling him how amazing he is.

He's going through so much just to save her life and the life of their daughter. This woman never thought she could love her boyfriend anymore than she already did, but still found a new level of love for him.

The birth was difficult for the demon, but only because of the exhaustion he felt. He barely had the energy to push his daughter out of him and was honestly grateful his daughter was so tiny because otherwise, he might not have ended up much better than MC would have.

The human stayed by his side the entire time and gave her boyfriend every bit of encouragement he needed. Honestly, the demon attributed the rather smooth birth to her; if it wasn't for MC, the man very well might have given up.

Vaermina born just as tiny as her father knew she would be: a frail little 4.5lb baby. Physically speaking, their daughter was still healthy though.

Despite this, Barbatos knew his daughter was going to have a hard life since she inherited his...'gift', as others refered to it

And there was nothing he could do for her; not till she grew old enough for him to train her. Till then, he knew his daughter would suffer.

Still, he was grateful for this outcome, for a present where both his daughter and girlfriend survived.

With this in mind...the demon was one lucky man to have his two favorite girls still with him.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me mc #obey me barbatos #obey me mpreg #mpreg

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

KINGSMAN: THE SECRET SERVICE PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the 2014 film

so hail satan, and have a lovely afternoon.

do you know what that means?

my people will be getting in touch with you very soon.

what do you see?

if you get blood on the carpet, you're going to have to take the carpet up!

do i look like i give a fuck?

we're here to enhance your skills and test you to the limit.

i was breaking up an undercover spy ring at the pentagon.

i'm famished.

you can't talk to me like that.

if you have a complaint, you come here and whisper it in my ear.

how may i help you?

turn that shit off.

shit. fucking missed it. how did i fucking miss it?

sorry about that. needed to let off a little steam.

and so began our adventure.

nobody thanked me for any of them.

your little experiment failed.

go home.

do you think there's a lot of jobs going around here?

i apologize for putting you in this position.

who the fuck are you? where am i?

do you like spy movies?

did you have any chance to think further on my proposal?

always someone else's fault.

would you care for a drink?

just leave him alone.

i'll deal with this mess... personally.

sorry. gotta save the world.

you were halfway through training, doing brilliantly, but you gave up.

these, you're familiar with.

would you like a lift home?

i'm sorry. wrong number.

this is my new valet.

grab a seat.

this whiskey is amazing.

no stomach for violence. i mean, literally, i see one drop of blood, that is me, done.

i need to have a private conversation.

well if we don't do something, nature will.

this knife can save your life.

being a gentleman is something one learns.

you're going to need a pair of shoes to go with your suit.

don't be ridiculous. it's a hand grenade.

you fucking freak!

can anybody tell me what this is?

fuck! just cut the fucking ropes, please!

can you guess what this is?

is he dead?

looks like a lot of people are going to die.

it's a pleasure to meet you.

how can i understand if you won't tell me anything?

there are not a lot of people who knew about him.

sit down.

ever heard of knocking?

congratulations. bloody well done.

i am inviting you to be part of a new world.

once he explained, i understood.

hope you're hungry.

gotta admit, i was really intrigued to meet you.

words to live by.

i'm awfully sorry.

i had that done already.

i'm so sorry i can't say more.

you know your shit.

i don't want your help.

i killed all those people.

i suppose asking to borrow a cup of sugar is a step too far.

a suit is a modern gentleman's armor.

there is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. true nobility is being superior to your former self.

let me teach you a lesson.

you know what this is like?

i stepped things down because i wasn't getting anywhere.

i see someone with potential.

i seem to have my dates muddled up.

pretty dog. what's his name?

you're a bloody disgrace.

i knew you couldn't make it.

i cancelled the gala because of you.

so we going up or down?

i'm going to come up with some absurd and convoluted way to kill you, and you'll find an equally convoluted way to escape.

it was a blank. it was a fucking blank.

i don't doubt it.

how do i get it back in?

this is our standard issue pistol.

if you save the world... we can do it in the asshole.

that tends to happen when you shoot someone in the head.

how deep does this fucking thing go?

limits must be tested.

your weapon scores are excellent, by the way.

is this it?

how do they feel?

nothing personal, if that's your concern.

i'm had a rather emotional day.

one day, you might be as good a spy as any of them.

if you're prepared to adapt and learn, you can transform.

can't you see that everything i've done has been about trying to repay them?

i'd appreciate it enormously if you could just leave us in peace.

give me the gun.

i'm just in to find out what kind of person you are.

that is sick.

get out.

pull the hook to the left.

i've had my people looking into your affairs.

i'm sure you understand that.

i'm so sorry. please untie me.

ah yes. very very nice.

what did you do to me?

you're full of surprises.

you throw away your biggest opportunity over a fucking dog.

is this the part where you say some... really bad pun?

i will be right back.

no! that wasn't the fucking deal!

you think i've got anything to lose?

how'd your folks make it?

i had no control.

are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going to fight?

thank you for such a happy meal.

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mioyeo · 1 year

Text

8 makes 1 Team

No matter how different, without one of us there is no 8 makes 1 Team

Synopsis : In which 8 boys build a friendship despise of their differences with the help of a psychiatrist

Pairing : psychiatrist! Reader x Ateez (for now )

Warnings : this chapter includes mentions of , ignorant staff , crying , sweet guard hours , grooming , influential parents, no consent , threatening , taking minors private parts in their mouths , sexual assault , arguing , please tell me if I forget something , and I’m not romanticizing disorders in anyway and this is pure fiction meaning this doesn’t represent Ateez in any type of way

For every new chapter I’ll place this (🟢) beside it in the masterlist so you guys know that the chapter is new and was posted recently

Tag list : @veneziamadness , @hcyaa , @sadcoffeecritic , @aapplepii , @lavishloving , @dogsongy , @acciocriativity , @k33vad3la , @seonghwifey , @hanjihyun23 , @yunhoswrld123 , @cqndiedcherries , @miriamxsworld , @belle643 , @pandyandy71-blog , @mothworked

I apologize for taking so long , I had a huge writer’s block so I couldn’t really continue writing for some days

Also if you want to be added to the tagging list for the next chapter comment so I can add you

Word count: 1,6k

It was a very quiet night that day as every guard was currently changing shifts , others just coming in and others going home so they could return to their morning shift

Y/n just had dinner with both groups at separate times and now walked into the break room

" You've been called to the office "

One of her colleagues that was currently in charge of ordering new things such as medical equipment and further more looked up to her informing Y/n about her being expected somewhere

" I guess he must have heard my complaints "

" Your wasting his time with things we can fix ourselves , we get it there was a minor issue last time with a patient bu- "

Y/n bursted out laughing starling the other staff that sat silently doing their work

" A minor issue? Do you call a patient wanting to end themselves a minor issue ? "

She wiped her eyes and collected herself

" You must not know what your duties are if your labeling such a live threatening situation a minor issue , and the fact that you where also at the scene but didn't do anything makes me uncomfortable looking at you "

" I'm not in charge of him but you"

" Ok if I ever see you having any complications I'll just stare at you and leave how about th-"

Everyone stared in shook as silent murmuring where heard

" Both of you stop being loud there are people trying to work here "

" Well I'll excuse myself , sorry for disturbing everyone else "

She bowed and went out sighing in annoyance before bumping into someone

" I-I'm sorry I didn't see you "

The male apologized quickly checking if she was alright

" It's alright , it's my fault I didn't see you "

" No no I should've looked where I was going "

He bowed again apologizing

" Aren't you the new guard in charge of Hongjoong? "

" Y-Yeah I am , I just changed shifts with a fellow friend that also works here "

" Are you going home now? "

" Yeah what about you? "

She smiled and straighten her work clothes

" I was about to meet my boss "

He hummed in knowledge scratching the back of his head

" I could walk you there since the exit is near "

" Sure I wouldn't mind company "

" How long have you been working here ? "

Both walked down the hall in silence only their footsteps being heard

" It's been over a month already "

" A so your still a fresh worker "

She nodded and looked ahead

" I feel like I've been longer here actually I don't know why but I bonded quickly with some of my patients "

" I know how you feel , I used to listen to my brother tell me stories of when he used to work here and these stories made me like his patients without even knowing them "

" These kids have something special in them they just need to be treated with care and be understood "

"I agree ,and it's exactly what my brother said "

She smiled softly looking at him

" You seem like someone they can trust based on your personality right now "

"I want to protect them just like my brown did"

" Your brother seems like your biggest role model "

" He is , we grew up alone and he was both parental roles that's why I really look up to him and want to follow his footsteps "

The elder looked at her before coming to an stop in front of the office "

" I guess this is your stop "

" Yeah it is , wait what is your name ? "

" I'm Seok-woo and I already know your name because of Hongjoong he can't stop talking about you and the activities you do with them "

He chuckled making her smile

" Well it was nice talking to you Seok-woo "

She waved before knocking on the door hearing a soft call for her to come in

" Ah Miss Y/n I've been waiting for you "

The man in his late sixties looked up from his paperwork gesturing for her to sit

" I must assume you heard of my complaints? "

" What complaints are we talking about ? "

She cleared her throat and adjusted herself on her seat

" I must inform you that the staff you've hired has been out off line and crossing several boundaries multiple times regarding not only my patients but other children here "

He hummed and leaned back on his arm chair

" When I started working here I came across the complaint that one of my patient has been sexually assaulted multiple times and forced to do multiple things out of his knowledge by one of the guards here and also physically assaulted for not acting they want them too "

" And who is that patient and guard? "

" It's my patient Park Seonghwa that was assaulted by Guard Lee "

She studied the man's face that seemed to stay calm despite being told this information

" Well I'll see what I can do about it "

He looked back at his paperwork

"He should be fired and sued for sexual assault it hasn't been one but many children in here "

The elder pressed on a button and spoke while looking at her

“ Please accompany Park Seonghwa to my office now , yes wake him up "

" Sir you need to do something about it "

" We'll discuss this with Seonghwa "

She sighed and waited patiently for the boy to arrive , it was making her nervous and something told her that this was going in a totally different direction

The door opened revealing the short blonde boy rubbing his eyes as he was woken up from his sleep

" Y/n your here "

The boy smiled and waddled towards her hugging her

" Sorry for waking you Seonghwa but would you answer some questions for me ? "

She looked at him and ressured him that it was ok so he could sit

" Miss Y/n here told me something about Guard Lee assaulting you is that true? "

The elder stared at the boy who's face dropped in horror

" Has Guard Lee been touching you without your consent ? "

He nodded and fiddled with his fingers

" What did he exactly do "

" H-He told me to take my pants off so he could look at my down there "

Seonghwa's hands found Y/n's who squeezed them slightly for encouragement

" Did he just look ? "

" H-He started doing weird things and told me that it was going to feel good "

" What do you exactly mean with he was performing weird things on you ? "

She rubbed his palm and reassured him to stop if he didn't want to continue

" He put it into his mouth and than did this until something weird came out "

The boy stiffened as he copied the stroking movements the elder performed on him

" What else did he do ? "

" H-He promised me legos after I do the same to him because he said that I should repay for his kindness "

Y/n felt sick to her stomach as she listened

" Did you allow him to touch you "

Seonghwa nodded

"B-But I didn't like it and told him to stop but he said that if I tell someone what happened he would kill me and depose my body in the woods where no one would find me "

The younger teared up trembling in fear

" How old are you Seonghwa ? "

" Sir this is a totally irrelevant question "

She looked in disbelief

" Seonghwa how old are you ? "

" I'm sixteen "

He replied sniffing

" With your age I don't consider this sexual assault anymore because that’s the legal age you can do sexual activities here in Korea "

" Excuse me ?! This is sexual assault and he groomed him prior to this "

She scoffed in anger

" How is this considered assault if he gave his consent Miss Y/n ? "

" He may have given his consent but he told the guard to stop but he continued without his consent on other occasions which means from that moment on its considered sexual assault "

“ He still gave his consent ”

“Because he was groomed, guard Lee formed a relationship with so when he was about to do this Seonghwa would be comfortable to say yes ”

" Do you know who his parents are ? His parents are very powerful people and if this comes to light it could get ugly "

He said calmly crossing his hands

" So you prefer to protect a disgusting child abuser because his parents are influential? "

" That's not what I said Miss Y/n , I'd need proof that Guard Lee touched him inappropriately before proceeding with this "

" His words are enough proof and the legos because this means that he literally purchased sex from Seonghwa in return for goods other kids as well we'd just need them to open up-"

" Miss Y/n this is not a normal hospital, these children practically live here be it long term or until they finish their treatment this is nothing like your past job "

" It's either you fire that man or he'll continue abusing your patients "

The elder sighed

" I'll see what I can do, I will have a word with Guard Lee you may go now "

Seonghwa looked at her and wiped his face even though they kept falling

" It's ok I'll make sure that he's gone ”

She bowed and left the office with Seonghwa holding onto her hand

“ Will he r-really be gone? ”

“ I promise you sweetheart that you’ll never see him again after I figure out how to get rid of him ”

“ I’m afraid he’s gonna hurt me ”

He teared up and shivered in fear

“ You don’t need to be afraid as long as I’m here , I’ll make sure he disappears from our lives completely ”

The boy nodded and hugged her tightly

“ I t-trust you ”

She teared up slightly and rubbed his back

“ I won’t disappoint you sunshine ”

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez atiny #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagines #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez wooyoung #ateez yunho #ateez x reader #angst with a happy ending

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11queensupreme11 · 5 months

Note

Just wanted to ask (not sure if this got sent properly) but how could a loser!girlflop!MC NOT set back feminism?

Especially in the premise of your fic, where, if the tags are anything to go by, the female girlflop mc will lose everything she holds dear including her mental stability and bodily autonomy to five or more overpowered MEN (granted they are gods, but still men.)

The main difference between her and OG!Percy, who got both the love of his life Annabeth and a pretty set future at New Rome College? Their gender.

Just to explain, I for one fully, or at least mostly understood what I was getting into when I began reading Arsenic Blues. I saw the Dead Dove tag, and know how to differentiate reality from fiction.

However, there’s a possibility that some loud mouthed single braincelled men out there (or women with internalized misogyny) that considers a fem!Percy with practically the same strength, abilities, and personality, too pretentious or something, began reading your fic after seeing the tags to get off on fem!Percy being non con fucked out of her mind, traumatized, and knocked down a peg or billion, reduced to a mere common victim of the gods, because they don’t like the concept of a strong fem!Percy. Cuz surely a loser coded girl saving Olympus is just a fluke and she needs to be put in her place by capable men😒

(This possibility is of course not your problem nor responsibility of course, but it still does not negate the fact that it sets back feminism, as some may use it as “proof” that women are inferior idiots that can’t be trusted with power.

“Look at OG!Male!Percy! He saved Olympus and the world twice with little to no major losses, got the girl, and has a bright future! Look at fem!Percy. This idiot managed to destroy her world in her stupid attempt to do what only a male version of her could! I knew that first time was a fluke!)

An example of this would be Zenitsu from Demon Slayer, ( a loser coded cringey but cute badass, first character that came to mind), who has a pretty large fan base despite his loser personality. Make Zenitsu a girl, and all of a sudden everyone is bashing her for being the weak link, dead weight, pick me bitch.

Or using TBOSAS, some people truly blame Lucy Gray for leaving a clearly psychotic person and says that the Hunger Games were her fault for leaving. It’s her fault that Snow turned evil, blaming the woman for the man’s actions.

(you sent this twice, but the only difference is the last paragraph, so im just gonna answer to this one instead of repeating both, hope you don't mind!)

i truly don't believe my fanfic is gonna set feminism back because, as you said, it's not my responsibility if some incel or girl with internalized misogyny sees it and uses it as a "gotcha" that "hahaha girls are weak cuz look what happened to fem!percy".

no normal person is gonna read my fic (or any book like this in general tbh) and suddenly think "omg.... girls are inferior to men! this book told me so and i'm gonna take it as fact!". if someone does think that, then they already had issues to begin with way before they started reading. my fic did not give them those issues.

normal ppl don't let themselves get influenced by a book in such a way because they've already gotten a solidified sense of right or wrong and they should already know "yeah the stuff happening to this MC is bad and not at all their fault. anyway! time to enjoy more of their suffering 🤪".

UNLESS ofc, they don't have a fully solidified sense of right or wrong, meaning they're just way too young to be reading my fic (or books like it). even then, not really my fault because i already gave out the warnings and even ao3 gives an additional "are you sure you wanna read this?" page. people can't control who reads the fics/books, they can just give out warnings

also, about the og male!percy vs my fem!percy thing, i can easily just write fanfic about og!percy going through the same thing. then what are they gonna say? in fact, there already ARE some juicy dark fics about poor og percy, savior of olympus, being reduced to just another victim of the gods (there's actually a lot more dark fics of og!percy going through traumatizing shit then there are fem!percy ones hehe 😍)

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 7 months

Note

Honestly, thinking about how the fandom grotesquely overlooked or excused Bakugou telling Izuku to kill himself with "Bakugou was only 14".

But it was never "Izuku was 14 when Bakugou told him to kill himself".

It's always "Bakugou was failed of society". But it's never "Izuku was failed by society".

I never had a high opinion of Bakugou to begin with, but viewing Izuku as an allegory for disabled people makes Bakugou look even worse. He bullied a disability coded kid for something he could control, basically beating into his head for 10 years that he was worthless and doesn't deserve to be anything more. This gives the same vibe a someone being bullied for their race or using a wheelchair. Bakugou is prejudiced and a bigot. His hatred of Izuku (and other people) is rooted in quirkism, which can be an allegory for any -isms in the real world.

His stans don't want to see him that way though.

Honey you're preaching to the choir here.

I've said it before my biggest issue with Bakugou is consistently his fans who refuse to hear anything bad. I've seen some say his antis are just as bad, and sure there are maybe a few who are loud but I've had the worst luck with his fans.

He was fourteen yes, and as you said: So was Izuku. Bakugou is a victim because society put him on a pedestal yes. But Izuku was also harmed by society. It's just for some reason Izuku is an MC that people hate for multiple reasons and I've never understood them. Every bad things he's done is pradaded around while Bakugou gets a pass.

I can understand the draw of an asshole character becoming a good person. I can. It's just Bakugou is someone who has not actually redeemed himself. He hasn't changed in a way that shows he wants to be a better person. His apology is one I firmly think was lip service now, after Bakugou continues to fail to show he's changed.

I will argue against him targeting Izuku purely due to being Quirkless, but that's because I've been rewriting the series and know Bakugou has bullied Izuku constantly since he was a child. Deku the nickname came BEFORE the diagnosis. The bullying came BEFORE the log.

Bakugou has never been a good friend or person. And it's his family and society that are at fault. But he wasn't raised in a vacuum. He knows better, just look at him being worried about getting caught doing shit. He KNOWS better.

And yet… he doesn't do it because he's never been told no. He's never been given actual consequences. I highly doubt the LOV kidnapping him counts because he got told he wasn't a bad person oh no, and then he got to learn about OFA!!

So you're preaching to the choir: I may plan on redemptions for him in some stories, but it will never just be a slap on the wrist. It will never be him still being in 1A. It will always be a redemption he has to work for because that is redemption. It's not ‘oh just anger management and he's fine’.

#todoroki would have been more fun as the asshole who becomes better #or monoma #anti bakugou #bakuhou critical #MHA critical

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a-friend-of-mara · 2 months

Text

Hey uh

I'm leaving my mask at the door for a minute

If you enjoy the image of myself I put forward, the happy cheery autistic trans girl who doesn't dwell on her issues

Please just ignore this post

If you are uncomfortable with mentions of self harm, talking about non prescription drug addiction, suicide rates of trans kids

Please just go

Look

I say my biggest fear is that I'll be forgotten

It's easier than saying that I'm scared to death of myself

I'm worried I'll give up on life and stop eating... considering I can't gain or maintain weight I'd have a week before I was dead at the most

I'm afraid that I'll give up trying to look like the person I want to be rather than being stuck, trapped in a body that isn't mine but I'm wired up to like some sick torture method

I don't want to fall into drug use or self harm hoping that it'd pull me out of this pit of self hatred and hopelessness

I don't wanna be another tally mark on the trans suicide charts

I don't wanna die

I feel like I'm suffocating

That I can't move my legs... only the ones attached to me

I don't even know if I matter at this point

I just

I wanna be me

Not some false image that I was born with

Nobody understands how it is for me

My dad almost killed me with th fact he understood so little he put me into survival mode where I cared about nothing but staying alive because of how much damage his insistence that my body was in fact his son and not the cage that trapped his daughter

He used to have twins now he just has one kid with her twin sister... my sister

Now I live with my mom who doesn't understand, how could she? She's never wanted to tear her skin off because it wasn't hers... she understands how much I hurt though

She's able to see through my mask that I'm really suffering inside

Without her yall wouldn't have ever known I existed

You would've heard a news article of a trans kid who killed herself by diving off the balcony at her school although the media would misgender me.

I've almost done it

Sitting on the edge of a lethal drop fighting with myself to not do it

Not sure if I was lying when i told myself things would get better

I'm not sure if they are

Everything just keeps getting worse and worse

I can't even cry anymore

I don't care about so many things that I used to

I used to love

Then I was heartbroken

I used to care for my friends

Until I moved away

I used to enjoy helping others

Now I'm so tired I can't

Just

Fuck

It's kinda funny

How part of me thinks it's all my fault

How I'm not sure if it's something I did

But then I have to think

What could I possibly have done that'd make this torment justified?

How can any higher power exist when I've prayed to every God and Goddess I've ever learned of and not once has a goddam thing happened

How would a higher power let the world get this fucked up

Fuckin hell

My trans siblings are getting murdered for being themselves

Innocent people who live in unfortunate places are being killed because of stupid ass reasons

Fucking hell in America most people aren't free enough to take a month off work without becoming homeless

Decades of prejudice make people think women are weak and need defending but don't pay them well because... fuckin I don't know why!

It's pathetic that men get away with rape while women get away with false rape accusations usually destroying every relationship the man ever cared about

People look at others and treat them differently based on the color of their skin

YA KNOW HOW FUCKIN STUPID THAT IS?!

ITS DUMBER THAN PICKING ON SOMEONE WHO WORE A BLUE SHIRT PURELY BECAUSE OF THE SHIRT

What for?!

WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS FOR?!

The privilege to go through 12 to 20 years of school to earn the right to have to work a job I'll probably hate until I'm like 60?!

Right now I'm pretty sure my life is gonna end before I reach 30!

What's the fuckin point?!

America for fucks sake

The land of the free

Yeah free to work or die because the 0.01% run the fucking nation like their playground

People wonder why I've responded to hostility with hostility in the last 3 years

Simple

I've bottled my emotions for so long the bottles are all full

Yelling and ranting always make me feel a little better

If anyone comments on this negatively I hope you die in a vat of boiling vinegar and drown in the yolks of rotten eggs

That goes for all the phobic people too

If you made it through this whole essay sized emotional breakdown and don't think I'm a complaining winey bitch

I can only say I wish the world was made of more people like you

Alright

Time for sleep

#tw: depression #tw depressing stuff #tw self destructive behavior #trans #trans woman #me #depressing shit #trans struggles

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filmfactors · 9 months

Note

opinion on hunter from toh

WARNING: I probably won't get all my thoughts across perfectly. Sorry it's honestly taken me awhile to get back to this anon, I did have thought's but couldn't quite catch myself in the mood to write em! Now let's get started:

Hunter is, by all means, a character I personally should've liked. I did at one point! The Golden Guard easily had my attention, he was sassy and I love my masked characters. It's what they started doing with him that made me less of a fan over time, that and I have a personal grievance with the fandom. Being the rare Belos fan I couldn't go into his tag without seeing it mostly about Hunter all the time.

Obviously I'll state I do not dislike Hunter for having a redemption, rather, it's how Owl House redeems characters that make's him as fascinating as plain white bread. What is this method?

Redemption = Lack of bite, a total lack of genuine flaws... and a reason why their actions can be blamed on someone else.

Let's bring in Amity as another example: Upon her introduction we see her bullying Willow, alone. When Understanding Willow comes around, we see that it's claimed it was her parents, and even later, just her moms fault. Inner Willow says 'you let your friends pick on her for years' but we don't acknowledge Amity did the exact same for no good reason.

Once Amity is redeemed, do we see the attitude? Do we see her hesitations with Willow? Do we even see her trying to make it up to Willow? I am not counting Labyrinth Runners for this because sure we got some closure but it doesn't fix the base issue. Any sort of Amity's actually negative flaws are erased once she is Luz's cool girlfriend.

It happens to Lilith, with her complexes, she never again expresses negative feelings that aren't easy and palpable. She's never superior or with attitude, and she only cursed her sister thinking it'd only be a day. That's a whole other can of worms though.

Point being, Hunter is the exact same. We can blame all his negative attributes on Belos, and once he's good he can no longer have any of those. He's not sassy, or fun, and admittedly is just kind of an angst machine.

I often feel the point of redemption is that it is nice to see someone who did bad things, get help or help themselves. The belief even bad people can change, because in the end they are still human. It's not fun when all your redeemed characters are simply 'misunderstood.' When you can push the blame off of them and instead place it on someone else. Owl House's message is that people are complex, but fails to deliver on this.

An easy comparison to make is Hunter is Zuko, but he's absolutely no Zuko. They both follow a similar principle, it was a family member that led them down the path of ruin. Yet Avatar understood that at some point down the line, your actions are your own. Zuko is conflicted, and hurting but he still does actions that hurt others. He has to apologize, make up for it, etc.

Now I'll say Zuko's redemption is not and has never been the end all be all for redemption. I have a whole slew of thoughts on the matter, point being is that Hunter was this type of redemption. It fails to be anything much other than making Hunter the resident sad but bad boy, and the shows punching bag.

At some point all of his angst was just egregious punching down, as in by Thanks to Them. Flapjack, the possession... it didn't need to happen. In fact it hardly effected anything at all! It just gave Hunter more trauma and powers, but what did it do for the story? Hunter is barely in the finale. I guess let's watch some Boscha and Kikimora hijinks instead?

Moving on from the general issue of Owl House's writing, what else can be said about Hunter? Well he is a screen time leech. Consider, an episode like Labyrinth Runners. Technically a Gus episode, but he once again takes a backseat for other characters. Just like his one other episode! Hunter for some reason knows Willow better than him as well, just for some shipping fuel.

All that to say I don't hate the concept of this episode, I really enjoyed the Gus and Hunter interactions! I find their friendship to probably be Hunter's most compelling relationship outside of Luz. It's only a problem for the fact Gus' whole character is tossed aside by the writers.

He sees Belos' memories, his traumas, etc- what does this lead to? Making Hunter feel better. Gus never actually gets to do anything despite all the set up of his illusion powers, his episodes are overtaken by someone else or a ship. I'll admit this is not just a Hunter problem, but it contributes a lot.

All in all once Hunter was introduced, it left Willow and Gus further on the back burner. No matter what you say, there is an obvious lack of use of these two. Speaking of them, or more specifically Willow:

I'm actually okay with the concept of huntlow! I do not think it's nearly as bad as people in the critical tag claim it to be. It was rushed and not well written, but I felt the writers were on the right track for the idea. However, there have been some pretty bad faith readings of the pairing. Mostly for folks claiming that she 'didn't start liking him until he had powers' which is blatantly untrue.

Willow may not blush at Hunter, the tell tale sign someone in Owl House has a crush. Yet I feel you can pick up on the fact she has an interest in him in Thanks to Them, notably a pre-Hunter powers episode. I won't claim it's extremely compelling, but it's simple and it's cute it just results in some messy things for the sake of ship fuel.

My biggest complaint is that yet again, Hunter steals Gus' role of being a good friend to Willow in For the Future.

I feel there is much more I could say on Hunter, and his character, but I'm bad at writing all my thoughts without specific questions to remind me...

Overall just take it as I dislike Hunter, while also thinking he's one of the better characters of the series. He's got all the right ingredients to make a good cake, but the writers kept adding too much vanilla extract.

#owl talk #toh critical #my biggest hot take is that they shouldve just rolled amity and hunters character into one #also if you bring up the cancelation im going to become a feral animal IK ABT IT but it doesnt change the fact they couldve managed #their time soooo much better

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