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shattersstar · 10 months

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secrets.

pairing: jason todd x reader

prompt: say my name (cover) by hozier

a/n: 1/3 :) enjoy <3

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He had come home through the front door, black duffel bag slung over his shoulder despite the ache starting to spread across his body. He shuffled in with a low sigh, the pain from falling off a fire escape finally settled in as he crossed the threshold. He let his bag slip off his shoulder, catching it seconds before it slapped the hardwood as Jason remembered he wasn’t home. Well he was, your apartment was more a home than his or even the manor ever was, but it wasn’t a place to be loud without a care. Not at this hour at least. Jason set it down carefully instead, trying to ignore the pain shooting up his back as he kneeled to unlace his boots.

He heard your door creak open, soft shuffling as your silhouette appeared in the hallway. He hadn’t even looked up yet and your presence soothed something wild in him instantly. “Hey baby.” Jason grinned, surprised you were awake, but happy to see you nonetheless. “How come you’re up, thought you worked in the morning?” You stayed unmoved and Jason looked back up at you, fingers stilling on his laces.

He opened his mouth to speak, throat starting to feel thick at the cold demeanour rolling off of you, but you replied before he could, “Someone wanted my shift so…” Your voice was above a whisper, unsteady and it had Jason standing at his full height. He reached over to flick on the hallway light, letting the yellow light fill the space more than the one lamp in the living room could. You looked tired, face tear stained and your massive comfort hoodie on. He remained unmoved, swallowing the dry and bloody taste in his mouth while you shifted your weight.

Jason knew he had been distant lately, but a new dealer had popped up and was causing him problems, ones that left marks too unexplainable. He called you most afternoons when he could, but it had been almost a month since you two hung out properly, let alone went on a date. You had always taken Jason’s life in stride even if you didn’t know the details, you knew it would demand more of him than you could ever have, but what you got was enough so you didn’t care. It was what you had told him, so sincerely and earnestly when he finally agreed to go out with you again. It had been a good decision—great even—but it wasn’t easy. And Jason wasn’t stupid, he’s cancelled your Tuesday date nights twice this month and the fact he left your apartment after being there for two hours last week were stupid choices that lead to more violence Jason had to keep you from. He should have apologized then, but he was just so relieved to be able to spend a night with you.

He didn’t have to lie today, Jason wanted to tell you that so badly. That he did fall off a fire escape, slipping in the rain and landing smack on his back in a dark alleyway. And while he was in his gear, fell from seven stories up and had a helmet to protect what could have been a lethal mistake into just a stupid one. Yet, as you let out a breathy shuddering sigh, Jason wondered if half of the truth would be enough. It seemed as if you were after much more.

“Are…are you okay?” He found himself asking, voice betraying him as the nervousness he was trying to hide poured out. And he knew you weren’t okay, it was a stupid thing to ask and Jason was angry at himself for not being able to understand more.

“Just…are you—“ You stifled a sob, taking half a step back which made his veins run colder, “Are you cheating on me?” Jason’s face fell at your words, they were so far from the truth, but hurt deeper than he could have ever imagined. They scathed something raw in his heart, and he was crossing the small space in a handful of strides.

“Fuck no—no, never. I would never do anything like that to you baby, never. There is no one else, but you. You’re—fuck you’re everything okay? Just no, no, I’m not fucking cheating, no, not on you.” He was angry, stammering and tripping over his words, but held your face in his hands so gently. Jason’s capacity for tenderness even at his angriest never ceased to make your heart flutter. Tears spilled over your eyes at his words, you wanted to badly to believe him.

“But you’re so far away, distracted and carrying that bag I can’t fucking stand the sight of. And I get shit is gonna come up, but three date nights in a row? Seriously? You didn’t even say anything about Friday either Jay! I was outside my apartment for an hour and waited inside for two more.”

His eyes fell closed, Jason had completely forgot he was supposed to take you on his bike around the outskirts of the city for a picnic. It was to makeup the fact he’d miss your date on Tuesday, instead he was following a lead to Bludhaven that had him there till last night. He had been so caught up in work he didn’t even realize that Friday had came and went.

“Fuck I forgot about that.” He muttered in explanation, eyes dropping from yours.

“Yeah I kinda figured,” You sniffled, letting a moment of silence pass before as your anger simmered more into desperation. “God, its like I know you’re keeping things from me, and I accepted the secrets around your life when we first started dating, but this? This is another level. Jason, I know you’re hiding something intrinsic and meaningful to you—from me—and now you’ve just…left me in the dust.” You couldn’t tell if you had said all of that, or if it stayed locked inside your throat, until regret started to flash across Jason’s face at your words. You couldn’t stop the sob that escaped your throat, wanting to collapse into the floor while he still held you so close.

“I know, I know.” He whispered, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. He wanted to be able to say anything to break the tension, to make you smile or slap him, but you had been more than gracious. Jason had known that, it ate him alive most nights, and he couldn’t even find anger towards you within himself. Couldn’t force himself to lash out and push you away because it made it digestible and easy to leave. “I’m not cheating on you, I cant even look at anyone else–but I can’t tell you everything, I just can’t. Because Gotham, this city? It’s dangerous, and I am…close to that danger. You know me and what I would or wouldn’t do, so know I’m doing what’s right. I just can’t let you into this world, its not safe and I can’t lose you to it.” You urged his eyes back to yours, only stray tears escaping as you searched his gaze for the truth. It was so sincere, which should’ve been horrifying, but it brought peace to your chest. Something violent enraptured this man you loved, and yet it settled something in your core.

“And I’m, uh, I’m sorry. For keeping you in the dark.” He added, averting your gaze at his apology. Jason was never good with faults, with accepting them gracefully and apologizing for them, but you knew he meant it. Meant the words that often struggled to escape his lips. He only looked back when he felt your hands nudge his sides, your head moving from his hands and tipping into his chest. Jason let his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close as you let your last few tears stain the front of his shirt. He smelled clean, like his body wash and gasoline.

“Did you ride your bike over?” You mumbled into him, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he spoke.

“Yeah, why? Wanna go on a drive?” You nodded against Jason’s chest, but held him tighter first. He got the message, and kept holding you, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. When you untangled yourselves, he dried your face with the sleeve of his shirt, a watery laugh bubbling from you.

“Fuck that bag though.” You suddenly said, nodding over his shoulder. It made him laugh in turn.

“I’ll keep it out of the apartment.”

“Out of sight works fine for me.” You replied, before Jason pulled you in for another embrace, a beat of silence before he lead you towards your bedroom. You sat down as he rummaged around your closet, finding the helmet he gave you on the highest shelf. He passed it to you before slinking out of his brown leather jacket and tossing it your way. Jason couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips as your eyes lit up once the fabric landed in your lap. You had always loved his jacket, it smelled like him and was worn down to the point of being one of the most comfortable things you got to wear. Jason instead slipped on the black leather jacket you had gotten him on your first anniversary, yanking it out of the front hall closest before sliding his hand into yours.

You walked to the parking garbage hand in hand, Jason keeping you pressed close while stealing glances down at you every few seconds. He was searching for a moment of hesitation—regret—in your eyes. His heart was still raw from it all, as was yours, but the idea Jason could even entertain being with someone else made his skin crawl. He had always felt a shade too possessive over you—you both knew that—he was trying to work on it, but god if he didn’t want to double down now. Jason wanted to show you the darkest sides of himself, to let how you made him feel consume him whole until he was an ugly, unrecognizable thing built only for violence and loving you.

An unholy beast whimpering in the dark of night.

But it wasn’t the time, not when your hands snaked around his waist and your helmet rested on his back. It made it hard to wallow in his own pity with your hands burning a hole through his torso. Instead, Jason peeled off into the Gotham night.

It was late enough the streets were quiet, the long stretching and twisting highways that connected the sprawled out city were empty save a few cars. City lights streamed by and Jason felt your head left to watch them in their neon haze. You both let the truth wash over you, you knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, you believed him despite how daunting the truth may be. It seemed graspable, aligned with the splintered edges of his past and personality you had been exposed too. You still loved him all the same, you told Jason that enough, but as you rode through the city, you couldn’t help how your mind began to swirl. How well did you truly know the love of your life?

Jason sensed it, how your grip faltered and you suddenly felt so far off. Like you’d float away both in body and mind.

He slowed down after a turn, pulling off before a bridge and down to those small area of greenery hidden amongst exits and signs. Jason shut off his bike, letting you shuffle back as he clambered off carefully. He pulled his helmet off and helped you out of yours before setting them aside. “You okay?”

“Yeah, its just a lot of think about and I thought my head would be clearer now.” You admitted with a shrug.

“Well tanks full so we can keep riding till your head is clear.” He said, half teasing, but it sounded appealing. Jason noticed your contemplation, and smiled at you, spending a night roaming Gotham on his bike with you till sun up was nothing short of perfect for Jason, and you shouldn’t have been surprised at the suggestion let alone his silent agreement to do so. He handed you back your helmet and slouched against the side of his bike for a sec. You stared into the visor before one of Jason’s knuckles knocked your chin, pulling your attention to him. “It’s always gonna be you y’know? You’re the only one allowed this close.”

You leaned into Jason’s touch, kissing the palm of his hand before he pushed himself up and grabbed his helmet. You slipped yours on and smiled wildly underneath it. Things were going to change, but he was still the man you loved, and you were happy to share him with the grittier parts of this city if he was coming home to you. And as Jason flipped up the kickstand and started his bike to ride on through the remaining hours of dark till sunrise for you, you both knew it would be your bed he fell into every night. Or so help Gotham.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #writing

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melanieph321 · 5 months

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Ruben Dias x Reader - A House Is Not A Home Part 8/8

I held my promise. It's still Sunday here in Stockholm. 😅

Enjoy the last part of this story.

Ruben's wife dies during childbirth along with their son. Ruben hasn't been in a relationship since. Y/N is a single mother to a four year old boy. She buys a house in the small town that Ruben lives in. The house needs alot of fixing which Ruben helps with, resulting in him slowly falling in love with Y/N. However, falling in love with Y/N makes Ruben feel like he is betraying his dead wife.

Enjoy!

Perhaps that's how things were suppose to be, you and Johnny against the world. No one would fight for you unless you did so yourself. Not Johnny's father, not Ruben, not anyone. You were all alone and that's how things were suppose to be.

You sat under the big oak tree in your backyard, watching Johnny as he climbed higher and higher up the trunk. It had only been the two of you for the past few weeks. Though, Katarina and David never failed to invite you over to their house, but you didn't want to put them in a position where they had to choose between you and their only daughter. Not that they would find the choice any difficult.

"Mommy, mommy, look at me!" Johnny shouted somwhere above your head.

"Be careful sweetie. Not so high." You mumbled, too deep in your thoughts to pay any attention to him.

Ruben and Emily were probably somwhere in Portugal right now, bonding over knocking down the walls to their new found house. A friend of Ruben's told you the news, someone from David's bar. Ruben and Emily had finally found a house and were now busy renovating the property surrounding it. It was hard to admit that you were more sad than you were angry. It was hard to admit how much it hurt to miss him. Everything reminded you of your time together. Like that truck spotted in the distance, looking like it was coming your way.

"Mommy, mommy look how high...."

Suddenly, you heard a loud thud and saw Johnny tumbling through the air, landing with a sickening crunch on the ground below. You rushed to his side, heart racing with fear. Johnny was crying and holding his arm, which was twisted at an odd angle. "Oh my god, baby?"

He started to cry, blood gushing out of a wound in his forhead.

"No, stay with me baby. Stay with mommy."

Johnny's face went pale as his eyes began to flicker.

The crying stopped.

"No, no, no."

You cradled him in your arms too afraid to move his body, his limb body.

"What happened?"

There had been noise behind you, noise you were too in shock to comprehend. The truck you saw coming your way had been swirling on the gravel road leading up to your house. Ruben jumped out at the sight of you, Johnny unconscious in your arms.

"Y/N, what happened?" He knelt beside you. You were clearly too stunned to speak.

"I..don't...? Ruben you're..."

"There's no time." He said, helping you up off the ground. You and Ruben then rushed to his car, the truck tossing gravel on it's way to the nearest hospital. You refused to sit down in the hospital waiting room. The paramedics had taken Johnny, rushing him into the nearest emergency room. That was two hours ago and you still had no update on how he was doing.

"Here."

Ruben had gone for a coffee run. You thanked him as he handed you your paper cup.

"You should sit." He said. "The doctors will tell us what's going on once..."

"I'm fine."

Ruben fell silent but nodded understandingly. He had gone to take a seat himself but got up to stand next to you, to drape an arm around your shoulders to comfort you.

"You shouldn't be here." You said, shrugging his reaching arm away.

He looked at you confused and slightly hurt.

"I mean, you shouldn't be here, in this country."

Ruben's face softened. "Y/N, I...."

"There you are!"

Two figures came into the quiet waiting room, both of them rushing towards you. "We came here as soon as we heard." Katarina swept you into her embrace, no intentions of letting you go despite your need of oxygen. "Ruben?" They let you go though, at the sight of Ruben. "What are you doing here son?" David uttured, scratching the back of his neck in confusion.

"And where is Emily?" Katarina frowned.

Ruben's head shifted between the three of you, wanting to answer all of your questions. However, he was briefly interrupted by a man dressed in a white coat addressing you by your last name.

"Yes?" You stepped forward, eager to receive some news about your son.

"Your son has suffered a small fractutre in his humerus." The doctor said.

"Thank god." Katarina sighed.

"But because of the bleeding we found in his brain we would like to keep him in the hospital overnight."

"Oh my."

Katarina put a hand to her mouth, smothering her astonishment. You, however didn't really grasp what the doctors was trying to tell you. "I don't understand is my son going to live or not?"

A hand was placed on your shoulder, Ruben's hand. It instatnly brought you comfort.

"Most likely." The doctor said, too professionally for your liking. Perhaps he didn't have children of his own, or else he would have understood how you were feeling right then.

"We only suspect a small cerebral hemorrhage. If this is the case our surgeons will know how to treat it."

"Surgeons? My son will need surgery?" A pressure apperead in the center of your chest, making it almost impossible to take a breath. You were on the verge passing out if it hadn't been for Ruben, his arm now wrapped around your waist.

"We'll run some test overnight Mrs Y/L/N. The hospital will give you a call once the results get in. But for now I suggested you and your family have a safe trip home." With a click of his pen, the doctor indicated that he had other places to be.

"But my family is my son, I'm not going anywhere!" You exclaimed, tears flooding your eyes. People in the waiting room were startled by your sudden outburst, let alone the innocent doctor.

"Y/N, dear." Katarina stepped forward. "It's time to go. David and I'll will take you home."

"No I..."

She squeeze your hand. "Don't worry, Johnny will be alright. You'll be by his side first thing in the morning, okay."

You nodded slowly. "Okay."

And with that they brought you to their home, letting you stay in their guest room. But how could you sleep when your baby was left alone in that hospital. Perhaps he was afraid, calling for you without answer?

"Y/N, don't."

You had snucked downstairs, careful not to wake anybody as you prepared to leave. A shadow on the living room couch made you jump. Ruben got up to turn on the lights. He found your trembling by the door. "Don't...leave." He said, his eyes laced with sleep. He must have slept on the couch. Of course, now back in town, he must have been staying at Katarina and David's, in their spare bedroom, now occupied by yours truly.

"I have to, he needs me." You said, tears in your eyes.

"What Johnny needs is for you to be strong."

"But I'm so..."

Ruben had gotten to you, wrapping his arms around you before you could finish the sentence. You inhaled his familiar scent, enclosing your arms around his waist. The hug, his hug, it had to last forever, he was not allowed to let you go.

"No." You cried, once he did.

Ruben looked at you, brows furrowed.

"Don't let me go." You whispered.

Surprised, he smiled. "Then I won't." He wrapped you into his embrace again, holding you tight. You felt safe and cared for, as if nothing in the entire world could hurt you. As if....

"Ruben?" You pulled back, a frown on your face. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here?"

Ruben looked at you, slightly amused. "But I am."

"Yes, I can see that, but why? Where is Emily, why aren't you with her in Portugal...at your house?"

Ruben shook his head, smiling at you faintly. Nothing about the situation was funny to you. How could he smile when you were obviously....

"Y/N." He said, reading the confusion on your face. "It's just a house." He shrugged.

You didn't quite understand.

"Emily can have it. I think she needs it. It will help her find closure. But to me..." Ruben stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He grabbed your hand, his brown eyes looking deeply into yours. "To me it's just a house."

"But..." Your protests meant nothing. A part of you were afraid that if you stopped arguing Ruben might not find a reason to comfort you anymore, to stop hugging you, to let you go. You looked down to where your hands were intertwined. Ruben's thumb was stroking the back of your hand. Light strokes, delcatly moving across your skin. You looked up, eyes glossy. "It's just a house?"

He smiled. "It's just a house, not a home. Home is whenever I'm with you."

"Ruben I..."

He stopped you from agruging further, his methods unorthodox. You were backed up against the front door, Ruben pinning your arms above your head. He kissed you with urgency, perhaps to finally convince you that he was here to stay. You were convinced.

"You choose me."

The kiss parted. You wore a smile. Ruben traced a thumb on the outer ends of your cupid's bow.

"Like I said." He grunted. "Your my home Y/N."

Ruben kissed you again, this time indicating that you should take things upstairs, but only so that he could hold you close through the night, his lips close to your ear, assuring you that Johnny was gonna be so happy to see his mom first thing in the morning when he wakes up.

The morning came. You and Ruben returned to the hospital. And surely the two of you were by Johnny's bed to see him open his eyes for the first time.

"Mommy, my head hurts." He groaned. "And my arm."

You stroked his head and smiled, tears flooding your eyes. "I know baby, it's because you fell from a tree. You climbed very high and fell."

"I climbed high." He said, his voice weak but still tracing his regular joyous personality. "Did you see me mommy, I climbed high."

A wet laugh escape your mouth. "I did see you baby, you did amazing."

"Ruweeen!"

Your son's eyes widened once every noticed him standing behind you.

"Hey little buddy."

Ruben stepped up to his bed, patting Johnny's legs over the hospital bed covers. "A cool cast you got there." He pointed towards the knewly swept cast on Johnny's left arm.

Johnny held up his arm with support of the other, proudly showing off his battle scars. "I fell!" He exclaimed.

"So I've heard." Ruben laughed, reaching out to tossle Johnny's hair.

"Mommy, mommy I want pancakes!" Your son exclaimed, not looking to be someone recovering from a severe fall.

"Is that so?" You laughed. "Would you like my pancakes when we come home, or Ruben's?"

Johnny's eyes furrowed as he had to think. However, there existed only one correct answer. "Ruweeen's!"

Johnny was discharge from the hospital later that same afternoon and the three of you went on to have Ruben's famous pancakes for dinner. You went on to have them that Sunday and every Sunday after that.

The End

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #Spotify

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cleromancy · 6 months

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saw a post that was like. "jason probably wouldn't have ACTUALLY killed the joker if the joker had killed Bruce and jason had lived" using willis and harvey as an example and while i can see where that's coming from i do not agree at all for a couple of reasons.

firstly. jason finds out about willis's probable death in batman 410, which opens only 6 months after moving in with bruce; the 2-issue felipe plotline directly precedes the first issue of the death in the family arc, during which canonically the incident with felipe leads directly to jason being benched and seeking out his bio mom. most peoples sense of personal morals develops drastically from ages ~13 to 15, and we have direct evidence of this happening for jason whether you believe he killed felipe himself or not (more on this in a bit).

but going back to the two face incident and Willis. jason's still calling bruce "mr. wayne" at the beginning of this issue (bruce actually tells him to call him bruce *directly* before jason finds the file), and after the training montage they actually start talking about harvey after jason asks about the giant penny:

so one of the first things jason learns about harvey is that his benefactor and mentor, in whose house he currently lives, cares about Harvey as a person and believes he doesn't necessarily have to be this way. i don't think this is the main factor in Jason's decisions wrt harvey in 411, but i want to make note that it *is* a factor, and revisit it down the line.

moreover, bruce is making the case that harvey does villainous things because he's unwell, not because he's just a bad or selfish person.

this got long! cut for length.

of course we know jason at first still *does* want to kill harvey (batman 411):

this is however depicted as a very robin buildup of emotion, rather than a decision he made with a clear head and the intent to follow through. theres no indication this was a decision Jason thought through or a certainty that harvey had to die--theres no indication he even considered it before he got there and was physically facing him.

after the mission:

the thing that breaks through Jason's defensive shell is the word 'trust,' and it's there that Jason explodes and explains--and expresses how hurt he was by *bruces* actions. by *bruces* perceived lack of trust.

and there's a resolution which i'll describe and elaborate in a little bit, but this is bruce's assessment following that:

(...also worth noting that in 410 alfred adminishes bruce for comparing jason too often to "the first robin". there's evidence here jason's already feeling pressure to live up to dick's example, those high standards, or at least the version of them bruce has told him about, which almost certainly wouldn't have included that dick at one point wanted zucco dead, himself.)

and I cant post the entire sequence without running out of images, but to recap, jasons on-panel emotional progression after finding out two face killed his dad goes from shock at the discovery, stewing and fuming without telling bruce what was wrong, the furious outburst above when he and batman run into harvey, the tough guy facade, then a tearful fight where he accuses Bruce of hiding willis's death from him bc he doesn't trust him. pausing here to get into more detail on that last:

a thing you often see in traumatized/abused people, particularly children, is a conviction that any transgression will lead to disproportionate consequences, a constant sense that the rug could be pulled out from under them at any time. an invisible line they could trip over and lose everything. given his age and the complexity of the situation, jason most likely conflated a jumble of feelings here without the maturity or emotional management skills to untangle them. the ones we specifically get to see are jason feeling betrayed by bruce, angry at both bruce and harvey, and insecurity over whether hes still good enough to be robin. however, i think its reasonable to assume two further things: one, that jason hadn't been entirely confident in his place at wayne manor up to this point, and two, that he'd conflated being robin with that security. pretty clearly when jason asks if he's a washed-up robin, he's worried his outburst meant he might not be good enough for it anymore, and extrapolating further from that, hes possibly worried he might lose that level of security, of usefulness, of connection. so hes got a lot of really big, really upsetting emotions rn.

then the resolution of that fight pictured above is bruce telling jason he was wrong to keep willis's death from him, explaining his intentions, and then what you see in the above panels where jason asks for, and receives, reassurance, followed by them making a new plan of how to proceed together.

so the other thing that changes jason's mind to my reading, though this is extrapolation, is bruce reaffirming the trust between them, reassuring Jason that he has *not* crossed the invisible line that would make bruce hate him or kick him out, and jason feeling secure enough to leave that mental space of recklessness, of feeling like he had nothing left to lose. and that would be proceeds which is jason following bruce's lead as his adult guardian, with a clear head:

so summing up my thoughts on jason and harvey. 1) he's insecure enough in his place with bruce, and young enough to defer to adult perspectives on morality over developing his own, that his decision was more about following bruce's lead than the beliefs he would develop as he aged, and 2) that even when the emotions did boil over it wasn't exclusively about willis, and the deciding factor was not, in fact, "doing it because he took me away from you."

(speaking of that last point, about "took me away from you," we do also know that Jason didnt *expect* Willis to be around consistently or there for him bc in post-crisis Jason's debut issue when bruce asks where his parents are jason says that he doesn't know where Willis is but says derisively that hes probably back in prison. the consistency and presence in jasons life is key here.)

OKAY!!!! ONTO FELIPE GARZONAS!!!!!

so time has passed and now jason's the age he will be when he's murdered, either 14 or 15 depending on the version of his death certificate you go by. (i, like most people, go by 15.) either way, he's now demonstrating the maturity to be developing his own sense of morality independent of Bruce's, which we see in batman 422, when bruce relays the story of judy koslosky killing the unrepentant serial rapist who murdered her sister, and who she had baited into choosing her as his next victim:

i put a particular emphasis on this because judy's perspective is one that jason goes on to paraphrase to talia in lost days: "I didn't *'murder'* him. you murder *people.* i... ...*put that reptile down.* don't *tell me* the world isn't better off." evidently her perspective stuck with him.

with that in mind, i now argue that it is irrelevant for the purposes of this post whether jason pushed felipe or "spooked him" and he slipped. either way, we have evidence that Jason believes that sometimes a person's death, and therefore causing that death, can be the just course of action. but what i actually want to talk about is that in the case of felipe, batman 424 is ALL ABOUT how Felipe can't be touched for the rape and battery of gloria stanson.

essentially, the law's hands are tied, so batman and robin try a different avenue. the garzonases have been smuggling drugs or whatever--war on drugs propaganda not important--so theyre trying to deport Felipe for that. jason points out, "that's *not much* of a punishment," and bruce replies, "I'm afraid it's the *best* we can do."

so for the moment, Jason is focused on punishment--just retribution for the pain felipes caused to whatever degree the law and batman can deliver. he's willing to settle for that, at least up until they book Felipe and he makes a point of making a phone call in front if them to harass gloria.

and, well, then they rush to gloria to offer protection and tell her felipe was on his way back out of the country, only to discover gloria hanged herself rather than experience felipe a second time.

this is the point at which robin gives batman the slip and follows felipe to his hotel room, where we the readers witness him talking wistfully about how he'll miss american cocaine and american women. (*cough*PROPAGANDA*cough*)

again, it's irrelevant for my purposes whether Jason pushed felipe or not. what is relevant, is that when jason saw that the man they were trying to send away from his victim used the opportunity to victimize her agajn, and she took her own life as a result, jason arrived on felipes balcony. whether he intended to kill him or not, jason weighed the life of one of felipes victims against, at minimum, the potential fallout of a diplomatic incident bc Jason showed up at *all.* remember, they persecuted him on a lesser crime bc the law, and batman, can't prosecute for the one that left a woman dead. this is jason acting outside of that agreement.

the other reason we needed to talk about Felipe was bc the issue following, batman 425, has some... poorly written fallout where starlin was *trying* to show that 3 more people died bc of Felipe's death but in practice looked more like bruces carelessness/incompetence lol. but it's relevant rn that bruce made a point of telling jason that actions like that can have unintended consequences that he'd bear responsibility for. so that's a factor in play too at this point.

so to my mind, there are three major factors to Jason's decision on whether or not to kill the man who killed bruce. 1) personal hurt; "because he took me away from you," 2) the relative morality of the killer (motives, circumstances, and Do They Deserve It?), and 3) whether or not the world would be better off (which would have worse consequences, to kill them, or to let them live?)

(post-resurrection jason is a different story because lost days explicitly shows us Jason choosing not to kill the joker because then it'd be *over*; he goes on to tell talia that the world would be better off, "but i don't really give a *crap* about the world." and while we can't take him completely at his word there, because he spent the entirety of lost days leading up to that *extremely* giving a crap about the world despite his best efforts, at this point jason has made the choice to prioritize his hurt over the greater good. so while lost days jason would be less concerned with things like potential fallout because he has no intention of fixing any of the messes he made, we'll assume that the alternate Jason would still be in hero mode, and would take responsibility for them upon himself.)

on the topic of if the world would be better off, i dont... really have any interest in arguing whether Jason would believe the world is better off without the joker. he *would* believe that, full stop. where bruce told jason back in 410 to think about the tragedy behind harvey doing the things that he does, the joker... simply does not have one. by utrh *at least* jason fully believes that the joker caused pain for pains sake and filled graveyards just to fill them. and they had yet to fully build the joker up by that point to the unrepentant, uncomplicated monster that he is today, so I won't apply that retroactively, but by then he had already shot and paralyzed barbara. furthermore even if jason didn't kill the joker for killing bruce at the tender age of 15, as the jokers crimes and body count escalated Jason would be repeatedly facing *this same decision* each time. so let's take it as read that Jason would at some point weigh the joker's death against the deaths of uncountable future victims, and choose the side of the victims.

but right now we're arguing whether or not jason would kill the joker *for killing bruce,* specifically. so to be clear what im focusing on for the moment is reasons he might talk himself out of it--so, moving on to the next part of that: diplomatic immunity?

one of the reasons post-jasons death bruce doesn't rain holy hell on the joker is-- okay let me just say this whole plotline is blatant propaganda against the middle east. but if you take the conditions the story lays out at their word, Iran made the joker their embassador to the UN so he has total diplomatic immunity to any crimes committed before or after being appointed to that post, meaning he couldn't even be prosecuted, and any unlawful pursuit despite this could cause an international incident. and SUPERMAN HIMSELF comes down to tell bruce this. for our alternate Jason, we already know he's willing to cause those consequences even if hes not necessarily prepared to face them.

so recapping, jason 1) believes that killing someone can be the right thing to do if it means the world is better off, 2) was not deterred by the possibility of a diplomatic incident when seeking justice for gloria, and 3) has no sympathy for the joker in particular. *eye* think thats enough evidence, but i actually do want to go back to Jason's personal hurt re bruce and how it is presented differently to willis.

all the way back at the beginning of this post i talked about Jason's feelings of betrayal, how the perceived lack of trust was what finally made him break and tell bruce everything. this is, to me, a big deal. by contrast, we have no evidence that jason ever had or expected any kind of trust from willis; he didn't know Willis's whereabouts and assumed he had wound up in prison again without feeling the need to tell jason or catherine. willis was not someone Jason had ever had consistently in his life, and losing him to two-face was not functionally different from losing him to the justice of the state.

i do not believe the fleeting rage or feelings that he had a right to know what happened to willis would be *at all* comparable to the tidal wave of emotion Jason would feel, at this point, at losing Bruce.

"because they took me away from you."

#jason todd #dc #text #meta #i had further thoughts on Sheila and jasons hurt but. needed to hit send i got tired

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disaster-daydreams · 8 months

Text

𝔎𝔞𝔷 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔨𝔨𝔢𝔯

(This is my first drabble for him, I've only seen the show so bear with me please.)

He draws closer with each slow, deliberate step. The air feels void of all oxygen, as if it's seeped out and away from your lungs, leaving you attempting to hide how you can't quite draw a breath.

In truth, he's utterly terrifying. His eyes are the darkest you've ever seen, the color rivals that of the shadows surrounding him- the darkness that colors his office. His spine is straight, and the muted thud of his cane only reinforcing the terror scorching your nerves as he gets impossibly close.

His face is a mask of stoicism. There isn't a single feature that betrays how he truly feels towards you, despite the raging thoughts of worry behind his eyes.

He knew he shouldn't have let you on the job, it being out of your range of skills- more suited for stealth and thievery as opposed to the brute force the job called for. You've paid the price for a new experience, and he's paid in the insufferable feeling of worry and panic that overtook him the moment that guard got too close for comfort.

You'd been slashed at, a poor attempt from the guard to go for your heart- instead landing a scrape just below your left collarbone. Still, Kaz was furious at that particular guard- ruthlessly knocking him down with the heavy metal of his cane, the embossed crow splattered with the poor man's blood, which had since been cleaned.

Above all, he was furious with himself. He allowed the one person he cared for in any romantic semblance to be hurt- granted, your pleas to be out on the job made it hard to say no, which he never could to you.

Right now, he towered over you. His form one alike to a statue, not knowing what to say, or how to express what he felt- not knowing how to convey why he was angry. You'd been awaiting his eventual lecture with static running through your veins, numbness overtaking your hands out of nervousness and the pure strength with which you clasped them together in front of you.

After a moment, his shoulders dropped and his hand hovered over yours, unsure of how to proceed but still wanting to make an effort at comfort. You unclasped your hands and delicately took his gloved one into yours, making sure not to apply too much pressure as to not make him uncomfortable.

"You're never going on a job like that again."

"May I ask why?"

His lips pressed together, he didn't want to confess that he cared. He couldn't- it had already been far too close of a call already, with you getting hurt. How could he forgive himself if you were to be out at the hands of his enemies, once they found out about his weakness towards you? The leverage they'd have once they knew of his feelings towards you? He didn't ever want to put you at risk, but he knew you adored your freedom, and he knew you could handle yourself more than well enough. That knowledge still didn't snuff the thoughts; the what if's? The deep seated worry for you.

So for now, he simply took a deep breath and said, "Because you're far too valuable as an asset to be hurt. You will stick to jobs suited for your skillset, and that is final."

[Written by Angel]

#mod angel #shadow and bone #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #six of crows imagine #six of crows fic #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker imagine #freddy carter #daydreams original

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

can you do the dormleaders reacting to a makima!reader from chainsaw man?

I admit it… I simp for Makima. I said it. Gender-neutral reader. Angst.

Riddle Rosehearts

This man thought you were totally normal at first. You were kind, gentle, friendly, and very professional. Basically his dream partner in the flesh. Well, he came to find out that the only reason why you were so close to him was so that you could try and capture him during his overblot to serve as your ‘pet’.

During his overblot, you brought out some of your best devils. It was there that he got a glimpse of how cold and cruel you were. You never cared about him, and that’s what hurt the most. You eventually managed to stop the overblot, but you didn’t care since that was one of the two goals you had in mind.

He feels manipulated, as he should. Sure, you still did care about him, but that wasn’t your main priority. Now he understands why his mother never wanted him to hang around anybody. It was to avoid him from getting hurt.

Leona Kingscholar

He thought you were stuck-up until you showed him how kind you are. Even Ruggie didn’t suspect anything, so why would he have a reason to? Well, he should have because he found out that you were just trying to get him to overblot to see if you could manipulate him into being your ‘pet.

Leona was angry. He was angry at you, everyone else, but most importantly he was angry at himself for not seeing the cold and distant look in your eyes. Of course you wouldn’t be romantically interested in the prince. However, you seemed proud of yourself when your plans went haywire and you instead defeated the overblotting victim rather than captured him.

You betrayed him, and there was no other way to put it. Maybe you did love him; but it didn’t matter considering you put the blot above the beastman himself. The only thing to move past is the fact that you still held his heart in your hands.

Azul Ashengrotto

Mans probably thought it was love at first sight, but no. You were just so kind and ‘genuine’ (not really), there was no way he couldn’t fall hopelessly in love. But, all good things must come to and end in one way or another. He just didn’t know it would be so cruel.

When he overblotted, you were quick to reveal your cold and cunning nature. You had one plan in mind, but two goals in case your plan went south. You wanted to keep the overblot version of Azul as a plaything, but you accidentally defeated him instead. Oh, well.

He wasn’t angry. He was sad. Was this how others felt when he turned around and stabbed them in the back? No, none of them harbored the love that the cecaelia felt for you, and even when you tore his heart out and stomped on it… it still beat for you.

Kalim Al-Asim

His heart soared when he saw you acting so kind. You were the main character in a Disney movie, and he was the love interest in this little story. Your hands were gentle as you cupped his face, a deception that you’ve prepared for a long time.

However, when his Vice Housewarden overblotted, Kalim felt betrayed by both his best friend and now you. Your cold and manipulative side came out to play, and the Housewarden of Scarabia felt as though he was gazing upon a completely different person.

The thing is, his heart was still soaring even with its broken wings. Whenever he was near you, he still got butterflies in his stomach. His mind and Jamil tell him to stray away but his heart tells him to forgive you. And who is he to deny the thing that draws him closer to you?

Vil Schoenheit

He knew there was something more behind that kind facade. He knew he should have listened to his mind when he saw you. But you gave him the right amount of attention at the wrong time. You called him beautiful when he needed to hear it, and this clouded his judgment.

When he overblotted and saw how you really were, he could feel more ink falling from his tear ducts. He was already on an emotional rampage, but to see that you stabbed him in the back set him over the edge. How could you?

Oh, he was understandably angry. He wanted to blame you just as he wanted to blame Neige, but it was just as much his own fault as it was either of yours. He does stay away from you, and tries to avoid you.

Idia Shroud

One of the only ones who had an inkling that you might not be who you seem you are, considering he saw an anime with a character that was very similar to you. Unfortunately, his initial suspicion was wiped away when you acted so kindly towards him.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to find out that you were just trying to capture him while he overblots for your own benefit. He was ashamed for himself for thinking that he could have this little shred of hope, but you just plunged him into despair.

You seemed pretty happy when you defeated his overblot, but he knew that it wasn’t your original plan. Honestly, he couldn’t blame you. If he were in your shoes, he would probably try and do the same thing, considering overblots were a very powerful thing.

Malleus Draconia

His retainers told him to be careful, but he wasn’t. You showed him kindness and friendship and even love, and he was attached almost immediately. He was smart, but you were always 10 steps ahead and he didn’t suspect anything.

However, it was when he witnessed you in battle that he noticed how cold you actually were. You never cared about the people you were helping; you cared about the power that harnessing and overblot victim would bring you.

Malleus realized that he might need to be careful about accumulating blot. If you got control of him if he overblotted, you would have an almost insurmountable amount of power. He is one of the top 5 most powerful mages, after all.

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vroomvroomwee · 7 months

Text

TW: suicide!

The show spent so much time on the psychology of the characters these first episodes, especially on Ed's feelings of feeling unlovable and I think it's pretty interesting how that reflects itself in his treatement of Izzy.

OK yeah, he's tormenting the entire crew, but it's pretty obvious he's picking on Izzy the most. Even the crew noticed, "we think you're in an unhealthy relationship with Blackbeard." it's something they've discussed. And at first glance, you could boil it down to Ed wanting his "Revenge" on Izzy. A sort of "Is this what you wanted?" or a "You did this." type of unspoken message.

But I think it's much deeper.

There's something Izzy does that no other crew member does. Something he has that no other person in Ed's life has.

Love.

He loves Edward. Both platonically and romantically. And Ed just.... can't stand that.

Look at his reaction

Annoyed, exasperated, angry, pissed off

Disbelieving

Coming back to his feelings of being unlovable, I think it's important to mention WHY he does everything that he does. Blackbeard is his shield. It's how he deals with pain and heartbreak. It's a form of self-destructive coping mechanism. He finally allowed himself to be happy and free, his walls taken down, his heart unguarded, and then he suffered for it. He bared his soul and allowed himself to feel love and receive love, and he got hurt. Blackbeard is protecting that soft boy that lives deep down in him, just like The Kraken protected him from his dad.

Therefore, from his perspective, it's much, much easier to accept that being unlovable is just his nature and not because of something he did. Accepting that that's just how he is, relieves him of the guilt of knowing he's done something wrong and that it's all his fault. And believing otherwise is too unbearable.

So he hides behind Blackbeard. Tries to convince everyone around him that that's just who he is. "You were always gonna realise what I am".

And to have that illusion challenged is terrifying.

To have someone force you to rethink everything that happened, and wreck your entire perception of yourself, tear down your defences, is terrifying.

Izzy's still persevering love, terrifies him.

In the gif above, his expression is almost pained. A mixture of "Don't lie to me" and "Don't love me." He's so convinced of his own worthlessness and his feelings that he just can't be loved. He feels safe in his conviction and hence in his misery. Ed has very masochistic tendencies, he's relishing in his grief and sadness because he thinks it's what he deserves. He pushed everyone away. Someone unlovable deserved all this pain. He falls back to Blackbeard because that's someone who's kept him safe before. It's someone he knows. Someone he's familiar with.

And Izzy challenges that.

Now he's forced to abandon his safety and be faced with a different reality. That he CAN be loved. And that is too painful.

"I loved you. As best I could, " despite everything he did love Izzy, but the fear that he could be hurt again prevents him from doing it properly. He's afraid.It's not that he doesn't love him it's just that he can't.

So he tries to get rid of it. Tries again and again to make everyone hate him. Tries repeatedly to squash the love Izzy has for him. And with everyone else, he succeeds. But not with Izzy Hands.

So there's only one option left.

And even after he's shot him and basically made him kill himself, Izzy still has love for him. But Ed still acts like he doesn't care, because the burden of being loved will finally be lifted.

Because that's what love represents for him now. Pain.

And it's so symbolic how he wants Izzy of all people to be the one to shoot him. The only one left in the world who loves him. The one he betrayed and pushed away. The one he wants to shoot him in the back. Say what you want, but I don't actually think he dreamt the scene. Simply wished it.

He's caught in a storm. A wave of feeling loved and unlovable. Of guilt and feeling like a victim. It's unbearable. He's tired.

He just wants it all to stop.

#edward teach #blackbeard #izzy hands #israel hands #ourflagmeansdeath #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd2 #ofmd 2 #ofmd 2 spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #meta #meta analisys #analisys

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dangraccoon · 2 months

Text

Jari'eyc - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Word Count: 2214

Warnings: stress, migraine, Cid is a shitty boss, suggestive themes at the end

Mando'a Translation: uja - honey/sugar

« Previous Chapter Next Chapter »

Tech had been observing Hunter all morning. He almost seemed at war with himself- going through the motions as though it were a normal day, but every so often a burst of irritability would break through.

“You have a migraine,” Tech noted when the others had finally cleared out of the galley.

“Oh, do I?” Hunter snarked. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Tech scowled. “You should take something. Perhaps you should lie down as well.”

“It’s not going to work, Tech, you know that.”

“Well, I highly doubt that it would hurt. It may at least help a small amount, which would be better than-”

“I get it, Tech,” Hunter growled.

Tech watched his older brother press the heels of his palms to his eyes, feeling somewhat powerless.

“Perhaps we should check is there is any of the mix Jaine made left-”

“No,” he barked, slamming a hand on the table and instantly wincing at the loud noise. He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

Tech didn’t reply. Hunter knew his younger brother would forgive this; Tech knew how the migraines affected him.

“How can you just… say her name like that? How can you think of her without any-”

“It’s not without emotion,” Tech corrected. “I feel the… hole left in the fabric of our squad. I have found the adjustment rather difficult. I have noted that I- I miss her, quite… dearly.”

“Tech?”

“She was a member of this squad before she betrayed us. At the end, I found that I was quite angry with myself that I spent so long wishing her out of our lives. Now that she’s gone-”

“She’s not gone,” Echo whispered, having appeared with Crosshair at the doorway. “We’re going to get her back.”

Crosshair scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Get her back? Echo, do you have a screw loose? She doesn’t want to come back. What she wants is to see us all dead or imprisoned.”

Tech watched his twin carefully; Crosshair didn’t speak much about Jaine anymore. In fact, to Tech’s recollection, Crosshair had only referenced her once in passing when Omega had asked about some of the left over supplies in the medbay.

“Something isn’t right, I know it,” Echo argued. “She wasn’t acting like herself.”

“Maybe that was the first time she was! Maybe, just maybe she’d been lying to us all from the beginning. She wormed her way into this squad, but she never liked us, never cared for us, never loved-” Crosshair’s voice broke and his gaze dropped to the floor. “We’re better off without her.”

They watched as Crosshair quickly left, his words weighing heavily over them. Echo sighed deeply, turning to leave the ship for a while.

The sunlight warmed his skin as he stopped to take in a deep breath. He’d been debating with himself if he should reach out to Crosshair. He’d lost a loved one once too. It wasn’t the same, and he knew that, but his heart still ached for his brother.

And, if he were being truthful, himself. It hadn’t taken him long to realize the pull Jaine inflicted on him. Her smile, her laugh, her touch; she was magnetic and after all, he was rebuilt with metal.

He knew very well the boundaries: you don’t touch a brother’s cyare, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have eyes. Above all else, she had been kind to him. She remembered him and his twin from years prior, she told him that she’d mourned his loss and then Fives’ as well. She was sympathetic to his story, but she didn’t pity him, she didn’t treat him like he was breakable.

She reminds you of me, a familiar voice always whispered in his head. He tried to shake that voice, but it always came back.

“Echo!” Omega called, just coming into view with Wrecker.

“Hey, kid. What mischief have the two of you gotten into today?” he smirked, willing the memories back into their box.

“Mischief? Us?” Wrecker laughed, earning a suspicious glance from Echo as he knelt to let Omega jump down from his shoulder.

“We just went into the city and there’s a festival tonight,” she grinned.

“Oh, really? What for?”

“I’m not actually sure, but Movri said there’s going to be music and lights and food!”

“Wait, who’s Movri?”

Omega’s eyes went wide for a very brief moment. “Movri is Wrecker’s… friend!”

Echo eyed the large man, who was quickly turning a deep red. “Wrecker’s ‘friend’?”

Wrecker laughed awkwardly, before glancing towards the Marauder. “I think Hunter’s calling me, I better go see what he wants.”

Echo chuckled as he watched Wrecker dart into the ship. “Tell me more about this ‘friend’ then,” he grinned.

Omega smiled, leaning closer and whispering conspiratorially. “He’s so nice! He runs the Sugar Planet stand in the market. He’s really good at making Wrecker laugh and I think Wrecker really, really likes him!”

“Really?” Echo smiled, ideas for reading his brother already starting to flow through his mind.

Omega nodded. “I think he likes him more than a friend.”

The two shared a very serious look before bursting into a fit of giggles.

—

“You’re late,” Cid noted, placing her data pad down on the desk. “Again.”

The hooded person scoffed. “Your intel was incomplete again.”

“Did you get the data or not?”

Irritation roiled off the figure. “Yes,” she said, gruffly. “It’s encrypted.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve got a guy for that.”

“And my cut?”

Cid glared up at her. “It’ll have to be split.”

The cloaked figure all but growled.

“Oh, stow it. You know if you can’t finish a job alone you don’t get the full pay.”

Cid leaned forward, picking up a small comm device. “Goggles, get in here.”

Moments later, the door slid open, revealing Tech, still engaged with whatever was on his data pad.

“You commed,” he said, not bothering to look up.

“Blue, this is Goggles. Goggles, Blue.”

Tech finally looked up at the hooded figure, meeting her eyes. Despite the shadow her hood cast and the armored mask that covered the lower half of her face, Tech could make out some details. Dark blue skin - no, it was some kind of paint, and her eyes; one light brown, one cybernetic, both scanning Tech with a scowl.

There was something about the man that struck a part of Raze’s memory. She was sure she didn’t know him, but there was something in the structure of his face and the way he carried himself that was eerily familiar.

“Raze,” she grumbled through the voice modulator in her mask.

“Tech,” he said cordially.

“Goggles will take the data stick and decrypt it. He’ll get half your cut, too.”

Raze’s head snapped towards the trandoshan as if to protest, but Cid interrupted.

“I can make it more,” she sneered.

Tech heard Raze’s jaw click shut.

“That’s what I thought. Now both of you, get out.”

As they left, Raze glanced around the room. More people had arrived, all wearing similar armor to Tech, except for a young girl, who was playing - and winning - a game of dejarek against a large man.

“Is there a problem?” Tech asked, paused a few steps ahead, turned back to face her.

“No,” she answered gruffly.

Tech led them to a booth near the back of the parlor, occupied by another man in armor who bore a striking resemblance to Tech.

“Who’s your new friend?” the other man drawled, toothpick stuck between his lips. He was watching them, his eyes scrutinizing every detail.

“This is Raze,” Tech reported, sliding into the booth. “Another associate of Cid.”

“How nice.”

“This is Crosshair,” Tech informed her.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Raze answered flatly.

Tech held out a hand. “The data stick.”

Raze reluctantly reached into a pocket on her thigh, pulling the data stick out and placing it in his hand. She crossed her arms over her chest. “How long is this going to take?”

“The encryption is not very heavy, it should only take a few moments,” Tech replied.

Raze heard a bit of a commotion behind her. Turning, she saw that the child had won the match of dejarek, much to the dismay of her large opponent. One of the men watching laughed, the other was watching her curiously. He was paler than the others with small pieces of metal poking out of his head. That odd sense of familiarity struck her again, stronger than it had with Tech.

They locked eyes for a moment, almost daring one another to look away. The stalemate was quickly broken when the girl ran up to him, chattering happily about something she couldn’t hear.

“I have finished decrypting the data,” Tech informed her, holding the data stick out toward her.

“Are you clones?” She asked bluntly before she could think better of it.

“Problem?” Crosshair scowled.

Raze eyed him suspiciously. “Not at the moment.”

“Will you be turning in the data stick or shall I?” Tech cut into their silent glaring.

“I’ve got it,” she huffed, snatching the data stick from him.

She stalked across the room, catching the eyes of the other clones as she did, only losing their attention when the door to Cid’s office closed behind her.

“Clones, Cid?”

“What about ‘em?”

“Didn’t expect you to be working with the Empire.”

Cid scoffed. “They look like they’re with the Empire to you, Blue?”

Raze eyed her, trying to get a better read on their relationship to her. “Can’t be too careful with that kind.”

“Like my safety matters to you,” Cid rolled her eyes. “Did Goggles finish with the data or are you just here to piss me off?”

Raze scowled, passing the data stick to her.

Cid nodded, throwing a few credits towards them on the desk.

“That’s not even a third of what you told me.”

Cid grinned sickeningly sweetly. “Maybe if you were on time and didn’t need help you would’ve gotten the full amount, but the price went down while you fucked around.”

Raze snatched the few credits off the desk, turning to leave, but the door wouldn’t open.

“What do you say?” Cid prompted behind her.

Raze huffed. “Thanks.”

As the door opened, she saw that the girl and the other clones had joined Tech and Crosshair, all squeezing into one booth to talk quietly. The kid saw her first, smiling and giving a little wave, the rest noticing and looking up to watch her.

Raze glared at her, before walking quickly out the door.

At the table, something like recognition thrummed in the back of Echo's brain, calling to him as his brothers talked around him. He pushed it away, a small chill traveling down his back.

“Echo?” Wrecker prodded at his shoulder.

Echo shook his head. “Sorry, what?”

“I just asked if you knew anything about Raze,” Hunter said, watching his brother closely.

“No,” Echo answered, a little too quickly. “I don’t think so.”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed, but he seemed to accept the response. He could feel the others' eyes on him, sure they accompanied variously confused expressions, so he just cleared his throat, looking down at the table.

“As for our next order of business,” Tech interjected. “Omega mentioned that there was a festival this evening.”

Omega perked up. “Yeah, Movri told us all about it!”

“Movri?” Hunter mumbled.

“Wrecker’s friend,” she whispered to him, a wicked grin on her face.

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be lots of lights, and good food,” Wrecker chimed in, his face becoming hotter by the second.

Hunter’s eyes narrowed at his brother, who was painstakingly avoiding his gaze.

“Can we go, Hunter? Please,” Omega pleaded, pulling on his arm just a little.

“Don’t see why not,” he shrugged.

—

“Festival in the city tonight,” Raze’s roommate called as she entered their tiny apartment.

“Heard about that.”

“You wanna go?” he asked, appearing around the corner from the refresher. He had a towel around his waist and he was still damp from a recent shower. “Could be fun.”

“What I want is to get out of this get up,” she groaned, rolling her eyes as she finally removed her hood and mask.

She set the mask down on the tiny kitchen table, depositing her gloves with it.

“I can help with that,” he smirked, sidling up behind her.

She sighed a little as his arms wrapped around her waist, his touch sparking electricity under her skin.

“Stars, you’re needy,” she scoffed.

“You were gone,” he mumbled into her neck.

“It wasn’t that long.”

“Three weeks.”

She rolled her eyes again, pulling away from him. “Yeah, three weeks only using a sonic; I must be disgusting.”

“We can take a shower,” he suggested, grabbing her hips in that way that always made her head spin.

“Didn’t you just have one?”

He shrugged, his signature crooked smirk falling into place. “I could take another.”

He dipped his head down, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

“Forn,” she whispered as he pulled away, her eyes still closed.

“There’s no one else here, uja, you can use my real name.”

He pressed his lips to the space just below her ear, the one he knew would always drive her crazy. She moaned, her head falling back. “Stars, Fives.”

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Thanks for reading! - River

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scratchandplaster · 3 months

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FEBUWHUMP DAY 4 - Obedience

CW: recapture, Carewhumper, touchstarved Whumpee, dubcon touching, love bombing, parental Whumper, hypnosis, emotional manipulation

Previous | [Masterlist] | Next

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Even before opening his eyes, Ben knew exactly where he was.

Through the throbbing ache behind his forehead, he smelled the fresh morning air of the valley, without any trace of petrol or tangy smog to be found. His lung thanked him as he took the first big breath to wake up further. Underneath, the unending softness of countless blankets and pillows greeted his heavy body.

This was horrible, this was the one thing he was afraid to go back to. Luke would kill him.

Weight all over his body pushed him deeper into the drowsiness he wanted to embrace, but Ben realized what he was entangled in: a cuddle pile. How lovely, if the booming against his ears didn't disrupt this idyllic reunion.

"Lemme go." Ben started to weakly shove the arms and heads that rested on his chest aside, confused mumbling set in and made the Gordian knot made from concerned family slowly untangle. Oh, they were already upset at him, it was clear as day. And if Luke ever found out how much Ben had missed them, he would kill him double for it.

"Look who's awake," the same gentle voice that greeted him the night before announced. Shepard was close, somewhere above him, but Ben didn't dare to open his eyes yet; there still was a chance of this being just a terrifyingly pleasant pipe dream.

But no resistance withstood the warm pressure that began to fight the headache with careful strokes along Ben's scalp, finding sore muscle spots to dedicate its attention to and for a second, being back home felt like he truly caught on. The room gradually came into focus.

"There you are, sweetheart."

Snug in his arms, Ben couldn't look at Shepard, too ashamed by the happy faces that greeted him in this intimate circle: Birdie, Otis and their triplets, naturally, and even Shawn had managed to push himself to the front row of his reception committee: the family he left behind. What was to come next made Ben shudder.

It wouldn't stay a warm welcome for long, and why should it? He betrayed them for everything they had left behind.

If his flustered expression didn't give it away, his clothes alone made him feel like the outsider Ben had made of himself. Among the rush of people, Sam was nowhere to be seen. A rough pull in his stomach just proved to Ben that it was better this way, he could feel embarrassed when it was appropriate.

"Thank you all for welcoming Ben back," Shepard suddenly announced and clapped his hand together, "but I think we need some time alone so he can adjust."

The children started to pout, Shawn above all: "He just got here!"

Shepard tried to soothe them with a smile: "I know, I know. But afterward we can tell you all about his sabbatical and what he brought back for you."

"Gifts?!" now their excitement was stuck to Ben like a limpet, "Chocolate?"

"I- uhm, I don't-"

He was softly cut off: "Maybe we find out at dinner, does that sound good?"

At dinner, if he would still be here. Ben left before, he could just stand up and go, right? Right?

Dismissing every attendee with thankful words from the community tent, Shepard returned to his son wearing the tired face of disappointment. He looked much older than when they had last seen each other, harsh lines carved with worry graced his face.

How angry Shepard was right now felt like the most important question. The faded proof on Ben's forearms reminded him of it daily.

"Well then, how are we feeling?"

"Hurts," Ben admitted lowly. He had broken clear rules and now paid for it. Nevertheless, it was his decision…

Shepard sighed and dropped into a kneeling position before him, meeting him at eye level: "Your head? You have a hangover, it's going to pass."

"Hanging over what?"

"No, it's an expression. You just need to hydrate." He handed Ben a full glass of water that he emptied greedily.

"You drank a lot yesterday," Shepard shook his head blankly. He seemed more afraid than upset.

"The only thing he fears is losing control over you."

"I was just having fun, Shepard."

Out of his pocket, a handful of shimmering umbrellas, plastic neon monkeys and other souvenirs was pulled. Undisputable evidence at which the older man only furrowed a brow: "A lot of fun, and now the alcohol has its fun gnawing your brain away."

Ben's hands shot up to firmly hold his head in place, as if it would make a difference. Words could not express how much his little quirks were missed.

"When did you stop calling me Dad?" Shepard's concerned frown came to match the look, "it makes me feel sad."

"It makes me feel fucking stupid."

"Reuben!"

"Shepard!" he sassed back, "You can't just bring me here! I-I was doing fine. L- my friends will get worried if I just disappear without a word!"

"You made friends, that's great. I didn't see anyone with you, unfortunately, but they have nothing to be concerned about."

This, for once, was the truth. The settlement was the safest place on earth, in the center of it stood the oversized tent Ben received this tirade in. The glow of the midday sun penetrated the canvas to let the tent's inside radiate with warmth. Yet trivial how much they talked around it, both had good reasons to taint the peaceful atmosphere.

"Of course they weren't there! They-They give me space when I'm trying to hook up-"

"When you're trying to do what, young man?"

"Forget it," Ben muttered, "at least they care about me!"

Putting the glass aside, Shepard let his heavy hands rest on Ben's shoulders. His hoarse voice gave away the woe that plagued him for a good six months now: "And you doubt that I do?"

A wordless shrug was all Ben was willing to give. The topic that hung in the air was obvious to both of them.

"This conversation is long overdue, but after that night you never gave me a chance to explain-"

"I gave you a lot of chances." If no one else would, it was for Ben to hug himself tightly.

"You're right, starting over isn't as easy as it seems," Shepard exhaled and held him close while clearing his throat a few times: „I am so sorry for what happened in the past, especially the night you decided to leave. I thought of many apologies, but none of them are good enough. I can't offer you anything, but my deepest, most sincere regrets. I'm sorry and understand if this is also not enough for you to believe me. Somewhere in the future, if you allow me to, I hope to earn your trust back again."

"Shepard Cohen is a filthy liar," Luke warned him, "and nothing in the world is going to change this fact."

Hands in rough hands, forgiveness was left to the son. Ben had nothing to say.

"The only thing he cares about is himself and how he can people make dance to his tune!" Ben held on to the reasons he left, there was no space for nostalgia, even if his heart leaped for joy at being back in the only sensible place on earth. "We are allowed to live how we see fit."

The silence spoke for itself.

"Alright. I understand you, Ben," he whispered dejected, "I finally understand."

Too petrified of the man he knew, Ben didn't look up until it was too late: quiet, thick tears dropped from his father's face down onto their folded hands. Shepard couldn't hold back his sobs anymore.

"Oh no," Ben gasped, "I didn't mean it like that. Of course, I believe you, but I…uhm."

The heart-wrenching realization hit him like a brick to the head: this hurt Shepard just as bad, it simply had to. Otherwise, he would never show himself so openly vulnerable.

"Please don't cry. I just don't know what to say!"

"I can understand every decision you made, even if it was to our detriment. You had very right to do so."

Indeed, Ben had every right and it felt nice to hear Shepard admit it. But the right to make someone feel this lousy… If he had this too, he didn't want it.

His hand carefully slipped up to wipe stray tears away: "Hey. Hey, Dad, please! I just had to go that night." A tired smile was coaxed out from the wrinkled skin.

"Are you mad?"

"No, of course not," Shepard reassured, loosening the tension in the air.

"Disappointed, then."

"Yes, but only in myself."

There they were again, the gentle hands that massaged away the sting inside his skull. It didn't pass Ben how confusing last night had been.

"Sam isn't really interested in me, are they?" It wasn't the bitter reality that made Ben curl up in awkwardness, but more so their intent for putting up with him.

"Nonsense, they are thrilled to meet you again. I'm sorry that we had to trick you a bit. You're just too young to engage in whatever hooking up entails."

"'m old enough." His hair was brushed back at a consoling pace, nearly lulling Ben back to sleep again.

"Maybe you are, maybe I just didn't realize how much you changed."

To simply lean into the quiet tranquility was heaven, like in the good old days when Ben felt secure and more like himself. By now, the water and careful touches helped minimize the ache to a dim pressure and gave them a moment to rest, until a familiar suggestion brought Ben back to the present: "Breathe with me."

Behind the peaceful quiet, somewhere pushed down by gentle words and sweet affection, distant alarm bells went off: "Never, and I'm serious this time, never let him into your head again!"

"Uhm, I think-" Ben mumbled as he got a grasp on the situation: he sat dutiful in Shepard's lap, exactly how he was supposed to. He could just get up and leave, right? If he wanted to…couldn't he?

"That wasn't a question, starshine," Shepard decided and let his words echo through the tent, "We are both hurt and I think we need to process all our feelings." The hand that just had cared through Ben's hair now snaked down to the base of his neck.

"Breathe in," Shepard ordered and his body followed the command like a reflex, a distant sensation quickly caught up to him: mindlessness.

Shepard steered the flow of their thoughts and breath while keeping a soothing pace, in and out, so Ben could focus on the relaxation, on connecting with his inner self…on this dizzy, fuzzy feeling that crept into his limbs. Like a heavy blanket, the unwinding started at his feet and soon enveloped his body up to the head, feeling just as pleasant as Ben remembered.

This wasn't bad, with Lukas' voice finally turned down to just a distant hum, it felt so good to stay adrift for a short second. Shepard was here with him, real and the only focus of his attention. In and out.

In. Bliss entered through his lungs and flowed along his bloodstream to his chest. Out. Troubles of the past were pushed out by the collected ease inside him. There simply was no space for them anymore.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

His head spun with the warped confusion, Ben was not the only one surprised how quickly he let himself drop into this state.

"W-wait-" A weak mumble rolled from his lips but left Shepard unfazed.

"Hold," the man shushed and marveled at how his lungs obeyed instantly, without questioning it for even a second. Mind light and empty, Ben looked into Shepard's golden-brown eyes and lost himself.

"Breathe out." The last sliver of resistance left his blank mind.

"Relax." Ben's head tipped over, leaning into the hands that held him upright.

"Sleep."

Loose eyelids slipped shut and his body fell into his father's waiting arms, so deep and so convinced that Shepard would catch him, like he always did, as he always will.

Only supported by his self-appointed dad, yet weightlessly floating further down, Ben was too far gone to comprehend that his last chance to leave was long taken away.

"Remember how easy it is to fall, and all the many times you did before."

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

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wordstro · 2 years

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[14] apocalypse + ex!san + "i like to call it a mutually beneficial relationship."

part 13 | masterlist | part 15

a/n: 6k, be careful if spider-like imagery bothers you, also pls heed the alien setting part haha

hongjoong yanks you to your feet by the hair, and you try to pry his fingers off you. he pulls tight enough for your scalp to sting, and you're sure he's pulled a few strands as he yanks you up. before you can pull him off you, he shoves you forward, and you stumble through the door and into a pair of arms. you look up.

it's jongho.

his kind eyes search yours, flitting back and forth, steadying you by the forearms with a tight grip. you scan his face, as best as you can.

you cannot help but note that there are no injuries on him. nothing.

you meet his gaze once more, and he purses his lips, a sorry look filling his features up, up, up until you let out the breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

you step back, away from him, and maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt, but hongjoong's words - he chose the hard way - rings through your head. jongho's uninjured form hovers in front of you, but he does not say anything. he does not deny anything, or explain himself, and need to make excuses starts to dwindle.

hongjoong steps into the guard tower, shutting the door behind him with a resounding thud. it captures your attention away from jongho. the sound of the door shutting behind him is a loud signal of finality you cannot ignore. your heart pumps in your chest as you take in your surroundings, one eye on hongjoong as you do.

you've never been in the guard towers before. behind you is a metal spiral staircase that leads upwards, likely to the top of the wall. it's rusty and rickety, discolored even, but it still makes it to the top of the wall. past that, the guard tower stretches down into tunnels. the tunnels trail left and right, likely to the other towers. but something about the tunnel straight ahead brings chills down your spine. where could that possibly go? the dim lighting makes it all worse, the stench of mildew and dirt suffocating. stuffy.

as you take in your lack of true exits, you get the distinct feeling you're not going to get out of here in one piece.

"jongho here," hongjoong gestures towards jongho, a small smile on his lips, "says you were planning some type of escape involving stealing our food and a car. and here i thought you weren't a complete idiot."

jongho betrayed you, too.

you glance at jongho, and he's staring at his shoes. you want to be angry, and a part of you is because all these betrayals are wearing you down, but, at the same time, you're fresh off one series of betrayals, what's adding another one to the ever-growing list? even then, jongho's circumstances feel different. you can see the way his fingers tremble at his sides, and the way he tries to make himself smaller, like he thinks he can melt into the shadows with the snap of fingers. as you look at him, you pity him. you want to forgive him. you want to. but, at the same time, you're not sure if you can.

hongjoong lets out a small sigh, stepping even closer, and your gaze immediately flits to meet his. you back up, up, up, until your back hits the rail of the spiral staircase. when you look up, you can see a sliver of the moonlit sky through the open hatch above, a tiny escape route you will not reach no matter how much you try. not with the way hongjoong crowds closer, not with the way he reaches up and takes hold of your chin.

his grip is firm, but it doesn't hurt the way it had in the library.

he says, "and then i just so happened to stroll by san's room, and what do i find?"

you press away from him. hongjoong digs his blunt, painted nails into your skin and you gasp.

he says, "your boy toy standing at the door with an unauthorized radio, and kang goddamned yeosang's voice coming out of the thing."

you blink at that. you want to ask what the hell happened to san. a part of you - the part of you that dreaded seeing san here - is relieved by the fact that san wasn't the one to give hongjoong the radio. still, what the hell happened to him? did hongjoong speak to yeosang? what the hell is going on?

"the punishment for crimes like this are severe, y/n," hongjoong murmurs, his grip loosening slightly so he can brush a thumb along your jaw, where the sting is particularly painful. he presses his thumb harder there, making you hiss. "maybe i'll ask seonghwa for some leniency. you were so willing to rat mingi and yeosang out...though i'll say," hongjoong looks at jongho, smiling, "poor jongho. it took quite some, well, convincing for him to rat you out, while you did it so easily. i wonder how he feels, knowing you're not as loyal as him. i've always told him he trusted too easily. maybe he'll believe me this time."

hongjoong raises a brow at jongho, grinning. jongho looks away.

your breath hitches as your gaze slides to jongho. when he meets your gaze, he frowns. you shake your head, quickly, frantically, "jongho -"

but hongjoong clamps his hand over your mouth, and says, "shut up, and start walking."

you bite the palm of his hand, ignoring the taste of sweat and dirt and gunpowder, relishing in the way he yelps in pain, shoving you hard into the railing with his other hand. you ignore the shooting pain up your back, and the forearm pressing into your windpipe in favor of bringing your knee up to his stomach. hongjoong keels over in pain, clutching himself as he lets out an angry, almost-guttural scream. you immediately move to the door. until a hand wraps around your ankle. you try to kick hongjoong's hand off, relishing in stomping the back of your heels into his fingers. the sickening crunch that follows after is ignored by hongjoong, and that makes you attempt to drag yourself away. hongjoong, however, uses his other hand to grab your calf more securely. before you can change your tactic to curbstomping his face rather than his hands, your arms are pulled back so tightly you cry out in real pain this time.

the grip anchors you in place, and all you can do is thrash your legs, attempting and failing to kick jongho off you. but you can't. he's stronger than he looks, perhaps because of all the labor he's done at the sanctuary. you can't kick him off, and jongho doesn't say anything because he can't, and you wonder how the one person you'd trusted wholeheartedly in this place could do this to you too. he could have just let you go. he could have just -

hongjoong grabs your chin once more, and this time you can feel blood on your skin, from your bite. he smears it on your face, digging his nails into your skin as he leans close and he says, "i'm taking the leniency back, y/n."

"fuck you," you bite out each word with as much venom as you can.

hongjoong just pulls away and turns on his heels, heading towards the dark tunnel. jongho half-drags, half-carries like a ragdoll after hongjoong. your heart slams against your ribs, because with each step into the dark tunnel, fear begins to encapsulate your entire being. they're taking you somewhere else, and you're terrified. still even then, you continue screaming every obscenity you know at both hongjoong and jongho as you're pulled away.

~.~.~.~.~

in all your time since the world went to shit, in all the time you've had to sit by yourself and think, you never thought this would be a possibility. you held onto hope, as minuscule as it was, that salvation was possible. didn't everyone? even Before, you'd walk to class and be bombarded by people with megaphones and signs screaming of salvation. it was never a new concept, and when you'd sit with your knees pressed to your chest in a stranger's bathtub, listening to cackling outside the barricaded door, you used to pray to someone to keep you safe. who? you don't know. perhaps it was in human nature to call for help. to pray. to think that someone or something would save you eventually. a person or a god or even an authoritative entity like the fucking government.

when hongjoong and jongho dragged you threw the tunnel, you thought your heart would burst from your chest. it only got worse from there.

the air was tinged with the scent of burnt hair, and it made you gag as you were dragged closer to wherever they were taking you.

you'd squinted when you saw a light, but it was not bright or fluorescent like the lights hanging in the other warehouses. it wasn't warm or flickering like the candles in your room or in the lanterns.

it was a cool, white light that burned your eyes despite being so dim. it was almost lavender in its coolness.

every nerve in your body screamed for you to run, and you even dug your heels into the stone floors in an attempt to stop.

but jongho all but lifted you from the ground, fully dragging you along.

hongjoong opened a swinging door that creaked on rusty hinges. you recoiled at the onslaught of lavender-white light.

you looked up. around.

it was a building, one that looked very similar to the warehouse jongho worked in, the one san stayed in, with metal walls and industrial metal rods lining the ceiling. even the floors were metal, you noticed, and as you were pushed to your knees, the clanging was desperately loud. your fingers curled into tight fists as your eyes adjusted to the lighting and you focused on the sight before you.

straight ahead was a set of railings that seemed to curve in a giant circle. you could not see what was below, just that seonghwa stood leaning back on those railings in front of you, peering down at you over his nose, hands crossed over his chest. his eyes were dark as ever, and somehow you could tell, even in this lighting. somehow is dark eyes stood out to you.

seonghwa tilted his head, smiling, and a chill ran right up your spine as he said, "what are they doing on the floor? get up, y/n. come see."

in that moment, your brain catches up to everything. you’re fully present. you can't do anything but listen.

you pull yourself to your feet. you join seonghwa at his side.

you look down.

you hadn't prayed for someone to save you in a long, long time. perhaps you've lost touch with that human side of you after you washed your mother's blood from your hands.

down in the floor below, in what seems to be a pit only a few feet deep really, you see something that is beyond anything you could have ever fathomed. with coiled limbs and that same screeching and clicking you heard when you'd nearly gotten caught at night while carrying mingi. it's a creature, or maybe many many creatures, with dark spider-like limbs. there's blood down there. you can see it in the red pools that seem to glint so brightly against the cool lighting. too warm for such an eerie place. too bright.

seonghwa gestures for you to follow him. you cannot tear your eyes from the sight, especially when a single black eye, hollow and watchful and too fucking knowing seems to meet your gaze, and it remains on you. the blackness of that eye is like staring down a well or a sinkhole, as if it keeps going and going and you are seconds from tipping into over and disappearing in its depths. the eye lands on you, and does not waver. a familiarity curls down your spine, though you have now idea how, and its black limb slithers up the side of the metal wall, curling around the railing a few feet from you, leaving a trail of scarlet red in its wake, and you wonder -

you're dragged back from the rails by the elbow.

jongho shakes his head as you glare at him, pushing you forward to follow after seonghwa. hongjoong smiles pleasantly at you.

seonghwa's footsteps clang loudly as he pushes open the next set of doors. this room is bigger, filled with stacked wooden boxes. one of the boxes are open, and inside there are wrapped loafs of bread. the food, you realize. this is the warehouse san talked about. so - so did he know about that pit of aliens? is that why he was so adamant in your suggestion that you steal food from here? where the fuck is he?

past the boxes sits tanks and metal tables. a laboratory of sorts, you figure, what with the computers and vials scattered across the table.

seonghwa moves in that direction.

dread curls in your stomach as you move closer. every single instinct in your body tells you to fucking run, that this is dangerous and wrong and that something so terribly wrong has happened here.

as you turn the corner fully into the laboratory space, your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

strapped to the metal table lies san, with a bruise on his head and his eyes wide open, glassy, as he stares up at the ceiling, clearly unseeing.

"you wanted to know where we get our food from, didn't you, y/n?"

you shake your head, stopping in your tracks as you stare at san's lifeless body. he looks dead. oh god, is he dead?

"no." your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, "i don't."

"really? what else were you and jongho going to run off together with?" seonghwa asks, his voice too kind, too pointed, "and you were both going to leave poor san behind. after everything he's done for you."

your notice the way his chest rises and falls at a steady rhythm, but that does not ease anything. in fact, it only makes you want to cry. you're not sure what happened, but the last fucking thing you said to him was that you wanted him to let go. you fought. like Before. and now you're standing here staring at his body, with terrifying creatures in the next room, with an even more terrifying person smiling lightly at you, and you don't know if you can move on from this. you can fight, but you don't think you'll survive for long. as you look at san, you wonder if survival is even worth it anymore.

still you say, "let him go."

seonghwa hums, stepping closer to san. he brushes the overgrown hair from san's unseeing eyes, and he says, with a tinge of polite curiosity, "why?"

"'why'? you want to know why?" you repeat his question, and suddenly that rage you felt from yeosang's words hits tenfold. maybe you won't survive, and maybe it isn't worth it, but you refuse to go down here without a fight. if anything, you want to punch the smug look off seonghwa's face. you start to laugh.

seonghwa merely smiles.

that is the last straw.

you lunge at seonghwa. that catches him by surprise, his eyes widening, but you manage to tackle him into the table, the two of you toppling to the floor. you straddle him, landing a single punch on his nose. the result crunch is satisfying, despite the absolute searing pain that follows. despite the fact that seonghwa laughs. his eyes are dark, dark black, the same kind of black you'd seen in that pit. he laughs and laughs and you grab him by the collar, only for him to snap his fingers.

you're pulled off him, and you get a kick in just as you're tossed off seonghwa. you stumble to your feet, preparing to throw a punch at hongjoong and jongho if you have to, but you freeze in place at the sight of san looking at you - really looking - and his eyes are darker than usual as he advances on you.

you look between san, hongjoong, seonghwa, and jongho. jongho is the only one looking away, his gaze focused on his shoes.

you say, "what's going on?"

your voice is too fragile, too frail, to sound angry, and you hate it.

you take a step back when san steps forward. even his gait is different than usual.

seonghwa spits blood from his mouth, wincing as he rubs his nose, and he says, "let's ask san that."

then suddenly, san's eyes are back to that warm, warm brown, and his face softens significantly. however, he keeps moving with that strange gait, the kind that makes you feel like prey. san blinks in confusion, before he says your name. it's so very much him.

"y/n," he says, tone growing urgent, worried, "y/n, i need you to run."

"how are they supposed to run when you're the one who's going to chase them down and strap them to this table, san?"

he starts to move, stalking towards you, even as he says, "i can't control it. i'm sorry, y/n."

this time, you believe him, but it doesn't make this moment any worse. you do try to run. you do. but you're yanked back by the back of your shirt and pulled to the ground. you hit the ground hard, gasping in pain. san looks down at you, his face contorted with the most heartbreaking horror you've ever seen. he's essentially being forced to watch as he hurts you.

san drags your wrists behind your back, pulling tight, and he starts to quite literally drag you across the floor. all the while, san is apologizing, over and over, cursing as he does so.

you look at seonghwa from the floor, grabbing his ankle for good measure, "are you enjoying this?"

seonghwa kicks your hand. you yelp. seonghwa says, "immensely."

you don't give up though, grabbing seonghwa's ankle from the floor once more and pulling. san shouts your name, even as seonghwa comes toppling down once more, knocking into san in the process. you scramble away, saying, "so you control people with those aliens and made some kind of deal with them to get food? why are you doing this?"

"you're so fucking annoying," seonghwa sighs, "do you want me to put hongjoong on you?"

your gaze immediately flits to hongjoong. he's grinning all teeth, on his toes as if he's excited to join.

"well," you say, grasping for straws honestly at this point, "have you told him about chaeyoung?"

hongjoong blinks, eyes narrowing. seonghwa lets out a small laugh, "are you so scared you're willing to make things up, love?"

you backup as he's talking, towards the boxes of food, eyes flickering from hongjoong to seonghwa to san.

"maybe you got too caught up in your game of dangling information in front of me and let things slip, hwa?" you match his condescending tone as you say his nickname. you'd heard hongjoong use it once. you look at hongjoong. "he told me the tragedy of antigone. of a sister who loved her brother so much, she went beyond human laws to make sure he rested w-"

san lunges at you. and this time you can't outrun him. it's as if he's faster and stronger, thanks to whatever the hell seonghwa's done to him, and even as you try to put the boxes between you, he seems to glide through the shadows, appearing on your right, startling you. he secures your hands behind your back, and he wraps his arms around you, easily plucking you from the ground and walking you towards that metal table.

meanwhile, san says, whispers really, "y/n, i can't - i don't want to be doing this. i -"

"then fight it," you interrupt.

he drops you on the metal table. the pain shoots right through you, but it hurts worse looking san in the eyes and repeating, "fucking fight it, san. please."

seonghwa grabs your ankles, dragging you flat on the table. his hand is cold, and his nails dig into your skin as he straps you onto the table, the sound of the metal buckle clanging on the metal table ringing in your ears. san does the same with your hands. for a moment, san falters, his hand remaining on yours. for just a moment. his touch lingers, and your chest heaves with the ragged breaths bursting from you, and when you meet san's gaze, you want to toss seonghwa off the highest cliff you can find you want to scream and tear your limbs from these straps and you want to cry. the sheer horror mixed with helplessness in san's eyes is something you've never seen. not Before, and certainly not After. it sears into the back of your eyelids, and when you close your eyes to steady your breath, you still see it.

you crane your neck, to turn your glare on seonghwa, to tear your eyes away from the train wreck that is choi san and your curling, breaking heart. jongho hovers close by - you can see his ducked head. you don't know where hongjoong is. you can't see him from this angle, but you hope he is there to hear you speak, to allow you to at least plant a seed of doubt into something. it's all you have.

you glance at san.

it's all you have.

you bite out, with all the venom you can muster as you say, "i don't know what you did to chaeyoung. but you did something. if i - a total stranger - can tell that you did something, then everyone here has to know it. deep down. hongjoong has to know it."

for a moment, all is silent. then seonghwa's face contorts over you, and the dim lighting behind him casts sharp shadows over his face, distorting him.

"why would i do something to her?" seonghwa screeches, his voice echoing throughout the room, over and over and over.

you flinch at the volume of his tone. the desperation, the offense. it sounds different from his usual voice. shakier, less used. it makes the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, because for once he does not sound smooth and unbreakable. he sounds human. so, so human.

seonghwa leans close, and his voice returns to normal, low and careful and condescending, his wide eyes narrowing. his fingers curl around the nape of your neck, some of the blood from his nose dripping onto your chin. "that book, y/n, was a warning. nothing more, nothing less. chaeyoung has nothing to do with this."

you take a shuddering breath, your heart slamming against your ribs. you don't believe him.

his nails dig into your skin a bit, as if he knows.

you can't help it. maybe it's the circumstances, or the full realization of the predicament you're in, but you find yourself asking, "what are you going to do to me then?"

you think of san, for a moment, but that isn't the time or place. you should worry for yourself. for once.

seonghwa drags a hand from the nape of your neck to your sweaty hair, brushing it back. your heart pounds against your ribs. you stiffen at the mocking gentleness of his touch.

seonghwa's dark, dark eyes - they're so dark, you can't see where his iris ends and his pupils begin - roam over your face for a long moment.

he speaks with a kind of amused pity in his tone that makes your stomach churn, "when someone joins the guard ranks, i need to guarantee their loyalty. the aliens and i - we've established an agreement of sorts, y/n, i'm sure you've guessed by now. i like to call it a mutually beneficial relationship, really." seonghwa strokes your cheek, sighing, "your little games with san have been causing problems in the sanctuary, so i'm going to give you two options tonight, y/n. one, become a guard and ensure your loyalty," he taps your forehead with his forefinger, a light touch that makes you recoil, "or two, i have san toss you into the pit in the other room. i'll let him stay with you, of course. i'm not a complete monster. he'll get to watch until the very, very end."

your breath catches in your throat, "that's not a choice."

"there's two options. and you get to choose," seonghwa says, "sounds like a choice to me."

you close your eyes, gritting your teeth, "then i'm not picking."

"letting you choose is only a courtesy, sweetheart. i can always have someone else choose. jongho maybe? or better yet," you can hear seonghwa's grin, "san?"

"fuck you," you spit in his face, "fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."

seonghwa hums, wiping the spit from his cheek to give you a level stare, his other thumb grazing your jaw, making goosebumps crawl up your skin.

"it'll be interesting, i think, watching you struggle against every single cell in your body as you obey my every command. knowing damn well you can't do a thing but watch yourself listen to me. as tempting as hearing your screams in the pit is," seonghwa says in amusement, still rubbing your cheek, "i think i'll choose for you this time. you should be honored to know that i usually don't choose such things."

he turns, lifting metal prongs as he unscrews a dark jaw. your craned neck hurts, but you can't take your eyes off him or the...the thing he places on the palm of his hand. it looks like a tarantula, but with so many more legs, and so white, it's almost blinding. it skitters around seonghwa's palm, leaving a trail of greenish liquid that makes your stomach turn. seonghwa is gentle as he scratches what you believe might be its head, a bulbous thing that sticks out above all the long, rigid legs. when it looks at you, it's eyes are beady and dark, and full of too much depth. like it knows things. you shake your head, pulling at the straps. oh hell fucking no.

you yank and pull and your wrists and ankles hurt like hell, but hell no, hell no.

yet it doesn't work. you thought maybe it would.

maybe san would be able to fight whatever the hell has happened to him, whatever the hell is about to happen to you.

seonghwa leans over you, and holds your head in place with one hand, the skittering white spider-like creature, with beady eyes and jagged teeth that seem to spill from it's little mouth, with legs that look like shards of glass made of marble, greenish liquid dripping onto your stomach and neck as seonghwa holds it inches from your face.

seonghwa's voice swims in your head, above the panic and disgust and instinctual need to fucking run, "san, hold them down."

san does.

you look up at him, and even though his grip on each side of your face is rough and full of a power that does not remind you of any version of san, not the san from Before, or the san from the bunker, or the san who sat in your room before he went through with his decision to become a guard, or the san who you'd left behind in his room, or the san who lied to you. he is neither of them, and in this moment you would do anything to catch a glimpse of just that. all you have is his dark eyes that do not leave your face.

"please san," you say, "let me go."

san closes his eyes, jaw clenching. it's a glimpse of him. one moment. it does not bring you peace.

you can't help but watch as seonghwa places the creature on your face. it tickles, like a real spider is skittering across your skin. you can't move or shake it off, not with the grip on your face, your skin crawling as you feel it take it's time exploring your face, slime tickling your skin. it slowly treks along your cheek, long past your mouth. it comes near your eyes, and you squeeze your eyes shut. then it crawls to the back of your head. to your ear, you realize too late, when it tickles along your hairline and then keeps going up, it legs brushing your earlobe. it feels the same as when someone lightly dusts your skin with a feather, but it's a bit damp. more spider-like even. it crawls over your earlobe, along the curve. inside. then it keeps going. you think you're going to throw up, gagging even at the feeling of this thing crawling into your ear and not stopping.

seonghwa says, "shhh."

only then do you realize you're gasping for air that's not quite there. only then do you notice the searing pain starting at your left ear, and spreading like wildfire.

~.~.~.~.~

"love," the voice is quiet, and muffled. far away. it says, "love, you have to stay awake."

you open your eyes, and you're met with your old college apartment. the one you and san shared while you dated. there's the posters plastered to the wall, the concert tickets taped haphazardly above your desk, san's anime memorabilia, his framed pictures of his family, even the smell of the barbecue restaurant at its peak hours just a floor below you wafts up from the open window. it's dark out. the sounds of traffic and drunken laughter joins the scent of searing meat. it's too many sounds and smells you haven't experienced in a long, long time. it's overwhelming. even in the sanctuary, surrounded by more people than you've experienced while alone, the world was quieter than this. you can't believe this used to be the norm.

you missed it.

"you're awake."

the voice comes from behind you.

you turn to your other side. nothing hurts, like you expected. the bed creaks under your turning weight. the breeze from the window is chilly. you tuck your feet under the blanket strewn at your feet.

lying there, staring at the ceiling, is choi san. he's younger, and his hair is red, like Before. it's what you remember him as, though it's clearer than ever. you'd done a wonderful job at forgetting him you think, over the years. you study the sharp planes of his face, the curve of his strong jaw, the high cheekbones, the faint dimple, and you whisper, "was that all a dream?"

it was a long dream, and a horrible one, but you truly hope it was just that.

san shakes his head. he turns his head, so his cheek presses against the pillow, and he appraises you slowly. he says, "no it wasn't. it isn't."

you're not even disappointed.

"and i'm here because...?"

"it's a safe place, i guess," san looks around, from your posters to your chair piled up with clothes, to san's gaming set up on the desk, screen still open though the laptop is asleep. when you follow his gaze, you remember how thoroughly entangled he was in your life Before. he says, "though how our shitty apartment is a safe place is beyond me. you were never one to think big, huh?"

"huh," you let out a small laugh, "even in my head, you're kind of a dick."

san laughs. you join him, when you suddenly feel a sharp pain at the back of your head. you groan, clutching your head.

san sighs, presses a hand to your head, over your hand, and he murmurs, "hey, it's okay. stay with me."

then the pain starts to grow, and it's like there's a fire spreading through each one of your nerves. it surges in your head first, before it fires through the rest of your body. san gathers you into his arms, and shushes you, and it's the first time anyone's really held you in a long, long time despite this not even being real. you melt there, and you cling to him as the fire grows in your limbs, in your blood.

he says, "talking helps. to ease the pain."

you don't want to talk, you don't want this pain, but you find yourself saying, "if this isn't real, can i admit that i've never let you go? because - ow, fuck - because it feels like i'm dying right now, and maybe i can admit this to someone at least."

san strokes your hair. he speaks against the top of your head, his voice low, quiet, gentle, "this isn't real though. you're not admitting this to anyone but yourself."

the next surge of pain has you drawing your knees up and curling up. you gasp, "maybe that's the point, that - fuck - that i'm going to die trapped in my head while whatever-the-hell crawled - shit - into my head takes the wheel."

you think maybe admitting it to yourself, at least, will let you die in peace. no one else needs an admission from you. no one else deserves it.

san leans back and presses his hands to either side of your face. he holds you steady as he looks you in the eyes, and he says, "fight it. please."

it's ironic almost, that he is telling you exactly what you told him. your breathing comes out ragged, broken. you shake your heads, unable to even gasp out the i can't. you feel like that thing is crawling all over you as you look at him.

his face morphs into your mother's, and at any other time you would have found it hilarious, but here and now, it has you stuttering. the pain seems to subside with the kindness in her eyes that you've long forgotten. how could time be so cruel to make you forget that too? this was your mother before the crazed dark eyes, before watching the light leave her eyes because of you. she murmurs so gentle, so full of a warmth you'd been craving for so, so long, "you can."

you're nodding, and the tears won't spill but they're there, welling and stinging and making your vision blurry. you missed her. despite the pain, despite everything, you are home again. even for a moment.

she brushes the tears from your face, nodding, "you will."

the room turns dark, as if a storm cloud has fell over everything. you look up, and through the open window, darkness skitters in. at first it's one, then its five, then it's more and more, until dark spider-like things are crawling through the window in droves. they creep across the floor, up your bed, your blanket, and your feet burn at the touch.

beady eyes meet yours, but you don't know where it's from. you don't know anything.

a great, deep voice, one that sounds like a million voices mixed into one sitting on the edge of a knife, sharp and bone-deep, calls, "you will not."

#ateez scenarios #san angst #san #ateez angst #itpfl #ateez

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xatsperesso · 1 year

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I read a fic, sadly unfinished, where's a terrifying point is pointed: kidnapping Iruma means that they can also have Kalego under their power.

Atori knew that the fluffy familar was Kalego (but since he called Cerberus, no surprise neither) so even Baal must know it.

They do experiments so they can turn the invocation of Flufflego (it's easy to force Iruma to call him after all : just put the seal on his hand and waves this hand), who has a limited amont of time (he returns where he was when he was called after some time), into a longer one or have a tool who turn off the limitation in time of the invocation as long that he wears it. and so have the watchdog captive and have Babyls with one of his most powerful guardians out of the picture.

If Baal manage to kidnap Iruma, he can capture Kalego very easily.

Well that's a very terrifying thought

Because the idea of iruma getting experimented on is chilling

Especially if the one who experiments on him is very curious about humans, very passionate

Just like Balam-sensei

He wont be able to look at balam's questions the same way again

And kalego being captured is a disaster

He's one of the school's heavy hitters, the one who's job is to guard the school, so him being taken, leaving the others to gaurd the school isn't good

Will it be doable? Yes. There are people who are as strong(balam) or stronger (opera, sullivan)

And kalego left the school temporarily to talk to his brother, so the school will be fine temporarily

The problems start when you remember that they have iruma, and that teachers put their students above all

They could blackmail kalego using iruma

Stop resisting or iruma will get hurt

Give us information or we'll do more to iruma

Attack them and bring carnage or your dinner will be iruma's head on a plate

And iruma

Poor, poor iruma

Whom they can blackmail using the thing he's afraid of the most

Revealing that he's a human

Sure, it may not sound like anything when iruma is literally being tortured

But at first, when he's still hopeful, when he still believes that he might get rescued

He'll want to still have his loved ones waiting for him

Not feeling angry, betrayed that ge didn't trust them with such information

Or looking at him with nothing but hunger

So he will cooperate

He will be so ashamed of it, especially once they start summoning his sensei

But kalego-sensei doesn't get hurt

Sure, he's starting to stay longer times, but he's not hurt

It'll all be fine once he gets out of there and back to his family

Until he realises what his cooperation has done

The amount of lives it's taken

The things kalego is forced to do because he's let the six fingers keep summoning him

The despair both if them will feel, all of the things they caused

And in a fit of hopelessness, that he just wants everything to just stop, he tells kalego-sensei his secret, hoping that at least now kalego wont care about what happens to iruma now

But it backfires

Kalego is more determined than ever to get iruma out of there

Iruma wishes, more now than ever that he's never let his parents sell him to his grandpa

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #iruma kun #kalego sensei #m!ik kalego #naberius kalego #mairimashita iruma kun #m!ik iruma #suzuki iruma #iruma kun spoilers #m!ik spoilers

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nenestansunsthings · 7 months

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hi please rb this version if you see this original post!!!! i got the second properly lined one in the set is done!!

day 7 of @bweirdart's oc-tober baby!!!! this prompt being personality!! today have a sol talking about all the things she loves about his husbands devotee's personality!!

she likes a lot of things, but most notably:

he's cuddly! he's so cuddly! he's so touchstarved ecstatic to receive affection and he loves when she holds him or pats him or picks him up or hell even bites him. it quiets him down so quickly and makes him so cuddly. he's always so lonely-looking-- she likes changing that. making him feel like someone's with him. he's sol's only devotee, after all-- she could never leave him alone.

he loves him. he loves him so much. no matter what she does, mattieu looks at him like he's the world. he smiles at the sight of little fuckups and every show of affection makes him blush so hard. he likes being sat or knelt down and having his hair stroked and being told about sol's day, the things she's seen or memories that are concerning him or any stray thoughts at all, and he radiates that love so strongly whenever sol does anything that it really does bolster his power. he loves him so much it feels unreal.

when he's angry or scared, he gets dangerous. he goes silent and his eyes lock on a target and he becomes the most lethal weapon sol could ever hope for, boosting his own power every time he's hurt or cursing his enemies and fighting for sol's sake no matter how dangerous the situation gets. he becomes a monster facing people who want to hurt sol, and for a man who's never felt safe before, having someone want to protect him so badly is...

he's trusting. he'll melt under sol's hands, he'll fall asleep against him or let him touch his hair or let him feed him things, and no matter what sol asks he's always willing to hear it out and consider it. he'll curl up into his side happily and mumble sleepily and trustingly about control and safety and knowing sol would never hurt him when she asks if he isn't worried she'll hurt him. he hadn't trusted him at the start, when they were first forced together, but-- he's the kind of person to fall in love easily, and the kind of person to trust even in people who are terrified they'll betray his trust. he's so sure of sol's care and intention, and when he trusts someone that much, it shows.

and above all, he's mattieu!! the best in the world!! the only devotee she could ever want!! hes perfect!! anyway let him talk about all the food mattieu likes did you know he rips into lechon with his hands and likes soup with beef stock bases the best and used to like mangosteen more but says now mangoes are his favourite fruit cause they match sols eyes and despite that sol likes to splurge and get him mangosteen juice because she knows it's still his favourite taste and--

(also, the bonus sketch for mattieu! ill line it tomorrow, check the rbs in uh. llllike 16 hours? i didnt have enough time for both of them today ahaha)

#sun art #suns ocs #ocremie #oc art #oc tober #bweirdOCtober

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daidonzo · 1 year

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Chapter 15 - I'm still right here [Chishiya x Reader]

"How could you?"

Your voice was cold as ice, sadness having been replaced by anger. And then by sadness, and then anger again. Around thirty minutes had passed since you were crouching behind an armchair, praying to whatever deity was available at that particular time that no one would see you. And no one had. But you were stuck in a cycle of being sad, angry, sad again, and angry again.

You had been wandering around, trying to find where they had taken Arisu, or Usagi. To no luck. And, also, if you had found them, what would you had done? You had no weapons, and it was not as if a walkie-talkie to the head could have KO'd anyone.

But you had found Chishiya. He was by the exit of The Beach, where you were supposed to meet once this was all over and you had stolen the cards.

He looked at you. Unreadable, as (almost) always.

"I knew you wouldn't be willing to go forward with the plan if I told you everything."

"Of course I wouldn't! What I don't understand is how could you? They trusted you, Chishiya! They are good people, they just want answers!"

"You haven't shared more than a few sentences with them."

"That's not the point! The point is… being a good person!" You lifted your arms above your head, clearly exasperated with him. You were screaming, but you didn't care. "Look, Chishiya, they don't deserve what's coming to them. They took them! They will kill them! Seriously, we need to help them. Don't you feel sorry for them!?"

"Feel sorry?"

You looked at him in the eyes. You wanted, no, you needed to see… Something. You didn't know exactly what you were looking for, but you didn't find it. His brown eyes were as cold as ice.

"Is there anything we can't do in order to survive?" He asked you, holding your gaze.

"There should be limits! The end doesn't always justify the means, I thought you had realized that!"

"Only when it comes to you."

"Don't you dare tell me you did this for me." You scoffed in disbelief, eyes still on him, your jaw clenched in indignation.

"What if I did?"

"This is not what I wanted."

"You hate this world. You have said so yourself, plenty of times. I tried to come up with a plan to get you out of here."

How could he be so calm, when you were fuming? You noticed you couldn't see him anymore, only a blurry figure, and realized tears had started to fill your eyes. Oh, so it was time to be sad again.

"Shall I remind you I was also a pawn in your plan not that long ago?"

"You were. Until caring for you was not something I could avoid doing any longer."

You loved him. But you hated him at the same time.

"It's not fair. They don't deserve it."

"This world is a cruel place, and we are here only to win games, until we lose. You don't deserve to be here, either."

"You should have told me, at least."

"I told you. You wouldn't have agreed to proceed."

No, you wouldn't have. But at least you wouldn't feel as betrayed. As hurt. He grabbed your hand, and you let him. How was it that, no matter how devastated you were, you couldn't help but notice how good your fingers fitted intertwined with his? A perfect match.

"When Kuina comes, we have to go."

You looked at him, moving your head from side to side, negatively. So Kuina was in it, as well. And he had managed to steal the cards. Not as if you had any doubt, but it was nice to have confirmation. You didn't want to ask him how he did it.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay, to try and help them."

You knew that, if he asked you to go away with him at that particular moment, you would have done it.

But you also knew he wouldn't ask.

"It's your choice." He looked hurt. But you had made up your mind.

You couldn't move, so he was the first to let go of you, walking a few steps and turning around so that he would be facing the exit. Kuina arrived a few minutes later, minutes you had spent in complete silence, you weeping without a sound, Chishiya just standing there.

"Ah, finally here! That maniac with the tattoos almost caught me. I do feel sorry for Arisu, but I'm glad we are finally getting out of here…" She stopped when she realized this was not the victorious atmosphere she had been hoping for. "What happens?"

"I'm staying." You said, a knot in your throat that wouldn't go away no matter how many times you swallowed.

"But… No, please, come with us!"

You looked at the woman. Your best friend. Someone you could only describe as a ray of sunshine in this dark, twisted land. You gave her a hug, which she returned.

"I will go find you, but I need to help Arisu and Usagi first." She nodded, understanding, both of you realizing it was highly unlikely you would meet again. "Take care of him." You added, using the hug to whisper those last words in her ear.

You both let go, and she joined Chishiya by the exit, her taking the lead. You watched them go, feeling heartbroken. You didn't regret your decision, but if it was the right one, why did it have to cause you so much pain?

Chishiya suddenly came to a halt. "STOP!" He took off his bracelet, the one you had been given when you arrived at The Beach and that all residents were supposed to wear at all times, and threw it forwards, so that it would cross the door that led to the outside world.

It got lasered.

"Seriously?" Kuina whispered.

"It can't be…" Another one of those insane games. How you despised them.

Chishiya walked in your direction, grabbing your hand again. His free hand moving towards your chin, so that he could move your face towards him. "Hey, it's fine. We will get through this."

You were clenching his fingers so hard, he must have been in pain. He didn't complain, though. You were very, very close to having the second mental breakdown in just a few days and his presence was the only thing to keep you stable.

"Don't leave me." You begged, realizing how stupid it was to ask him that, when you were the one who had decided to let him go just now.

"I won't. I promise."

"Thank you for staying at Seaside Paradise Tokyo." You heard a male voice through The Beach's speakers. "As a token of our appreciation, we will now commence a game for all the guests in the hotel."

You stood there, just listening.

"Difficulty, ten of hearts." You knew that robotic female voice. It plagued your nightmares. So, the card you were missing had finally appeared. "We will now be explaining the rules. All players are to assemble in the lobby. I repeat, all players are to assemble in the lobby."

"Come on, we must go." You let Chishiya guide you to the lobby, Kuina also by your side. You were so grateful the game had started before they had left. You decided, at that particular moment, that you never wanted to be separated from any of them. They were family.

The Beach's entrance hall was incredibly crowded. Your left hand hadn't left Chishiya's, your right hand was now holding a phone. You couldn't think. The higher the number of the card, the greater the difficulty. Hearts meant psychological games. So betrayal, emotions, manipulation. But they could be completed without killing anyone, sometimes. Maybe, now, it would be one of those.

There was a woman in the middle of the lobby, named Momoka judging by the scream a friend of hers emitted when she saw her. You didn't know her, but had seen her around. A knife was in the place her heart was located.

So, a corpse.

All of your phones' screens illuminated.

"Game: Witch Hunt. The evil witch who took the girl's life is hiding among you. The witch role is not limited to women. You clear the game if you find the witch and burn them in The Fire of Judgement. Time limit, two hours."

A great, burning pyre, could be seen from one of the hotel's windows.

GAME START.

#chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya fanfic #chishiya angst #chishiya #chishiya x y/n #aib chishiya #chishiya fluff #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #shuntaro chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya fic #chishiya x you #Spotify #as much as you want

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ellena-asg · 1 year

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In episode 4x07 there is a kiss. Alas, McRollins one 😉 But this kiss... It's this one that screams so much "IT'S SO DAMN FORCED!". It's this one that screams it in the loudest way and when I look at it I'm like "Yeah, I always thought all McRollins kisses looked bad but this, this one shows how much awkward they all are".

"It's just a kiss", you can say. But not in my eyes. It's not only forced, it's... creepy. Ok, I know that in this episode Lenkov wanted us to believe how much Steve loves Cath and that he's full of negative vibes here (or: hidden not hidden tension) cause he worries about Cath's safety. Well... Let me ignore it, please. I can't believe it, I really can't, ok, Steve cares about people (more than about himself and in some cases too much), but in this scene I just see Steve trapped (and feeling uncomfortable) in relationship with Cath. And in that scene I only see that he's again pissed off and hurt and again - he can't trust her, he doesn't trust her.

When I look at Steve's expression in this scene, at his body language, at Cath... Geez, I don't see partners. I see soldiers - but not "buddies" ones. Call me like you want but that's what I see. Steve in this relationship is often like "Yes, sir!" - or rather: "Yes, madame!". Even when he disagrees, when he has enough etc. - he "can't" do anything. Cath has a fucking power. Cath always can make him... this. Her "good boy". Her "boy that always forgives, always waits for her - even after breakup". She's like "come here, give me a kiss and be a good loyal boy" - and he does it though his body, his eyes, all betrays him. All screams "He is so irritated but he can't break free".

This photo above. She puts her hands on him, oh, she literally pulls him towards her and she's like "now give me a kiss and be ok" ("don't think about your issues, ok, just be a big boy"). He stands still, his muscles, all his body is tense. His jaw - clenched. His face - not happy, not excited. Eyes - *she's coming, she's coming closer, mayday, mayday...*.

But she is closer and closer and she hypnotizes him again with Say Yes, Sailor gaze. She makes him feeling guilty. And they kisses and Steve is still like a rock, he just stands still, closes eyes and touches her lips - it's like focusing on a task, focusing on his mission, Steve looks here like famous "close your eyes and think of England". (or: "You started this relationship so suffer now").

Her face. Have I already told you how much I dislike Cath's (cause it's never about Michelle, of course) grimaces? No? So now you know. Just look at this one. And at her gaze. "Well... Good boy. Good job, sailor". (can I mention that she also looks like a spider looking at a fly? well...). It's not only in that scene, oh no, I see these grimaces literally in every McRollins scene. But here she just looks like a Very Officer Lady trying to tame her soldier (I would even say: toy soldier - cause imo sometimes she treats him like her toy, like her property, like someone "granted" - but it is, as f.e. her being Doris 2.0 or worse, another issue).

And Steve?

"Yes, Madame". *SMILE* But it's not even a smile. It's a forced grimace. It's a mask. Look at his jaw, his cheeks. All is damn tense there. He grits his teeth. He's nervous and his muscles (especially facial ones) show that well. Look at his neck. At his cold "I have enough" ("Stop playing with me") gaze. Cath sees the smile and she doesn't care about the eyes. She doesn't care about "mirror of the soul".

Each damn time when they kiss (or have an argument) I feel this. That they're like Soldier and his Madame. That all their relationship just sucks - and they both know it (oh, she knows well he doesn't love her, she doesn't love him either, and that his needs aren't her needs and so on, she knows he has his issues, his own mess... but she stays and stays and makes it worse, she starts playing, messing with Steve and after breakup she is that one who is like "oh, don't be angry, boy, kiss me, let's have sex, let's be together again"). That Steve is forced to do it (he's a bit guilty too, I get his issues but... still - guilty too, yeah, but not as much as Catherine, what she did to him and after that... geez, I have no words - ok, I have 😉). That he doesn't really love her. That he regrets dating her. And fucking her. He doesn't wanna be lied all the time (and he needs to stop lying to himself). He can't respect, like and love her like he respects, likes and loves Danny. He can't trust her like he trusts other people (all around, all Ohana, are more, moooore, honest than her). He doesn't wanna be someone's toy. He needs to escape but... he can't. He needs some help. And still, he can't leave people just like they leave him.

Sometimes I think that the only thing they have in common is Navy. Oh, not sometimes. All the time.

And Danny? Ayy, with Danny all is so different. All these almost-kisses (at Governor's charity party, in Korea, in Afghanistan, in AU episode, at the dinner with Matt...) are so real, so beautiful, so sincere. So full of real love, real warmth and friendship, partnership and trust. So full of real desire and chemistry. And of "it's eternal", "you're the most important" "we dream about the same" "I'll never hurt you" promise. This is what Steve really wants. This makes him really happy, this makes him calm. And Danny saying "I can give you a kiss, just pick a base" in season 7? Oh, that was like a dream. Steve's face said it all. He was so relaxed, so happy, so safe when Danny said it, when they soon hugged. Danny... With his Danny it will never be like with Cath.

(nah, it's not a manip, it's a screenshot, it's real)

P.s. here is my longer comment about it: https://www.tumblr.com/ellena-asg/702474163828506624

#McDanno #h50 #steve mcgarrett #catherine rollins #once I really tried to like Catherine but I really can't #I respect some things about her but there's something false inside her and something negative...#and her behaviour in seasons 5 and 6 - that's too much for me #but you know - I'm totally ok if you like her (peace)#anti mcrollins

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firesnap · 2 years

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I think Boundless Sand such a nice note for meta fans that kept saying "you know, if Tommy had been in the button room instead of Phil then Wilbur wouldn't have died." I mean, we all knew that was the case, but I think back at some of those heated debates when people were trying to explain that it literally had to be Phil in that place at that time for Wilbur to end up dead and I smile.

So now we have Tommy in Boundless Sands who has endured abuse and loneliness and abandonment and "feels thin" and didn't use to be this angry. And even when feeling betrayed and scared and angry, still recoils from the thought of doing violence. Even when his first reaction is to lash out, the fact that it was his reaction horrified him. The Tommy on November 16th may have been more impulsive, but the story just confirms over and over again that he won't pick violence if he'll hurt someone he cares about.

It's just nice to see confirmation that Tommy, at his core, has this inherent sense of what's right that conflict and seeing some of the worst in the world doesn't seem to extinguish.

And you know, the flip on Wilbur this time picking up the sword and saying "I don't want you to be the one to do this" compared to throwing it down last time and begging for someone to do it? Arrghh. (Wilbur and his faith in Tommy's nature doesn't get poked at enough on a meta level tbh because there's a sense of Wilbur that believes Tommy does what's right and holds him a bit above everyone else because of it, but Wilburtries to convince Tommy that his plans can also be right because he needs that faith in him and ahhh dependency issues.)

Yeah.. Even with betrayal hanging thick in the air and a Wilbur looking to hurt everyone he could on the way out, I kinda want to claw at the walls thinking about how differently that would have played out. Not that I would change how things did turn out, but it is a fun canon divergence to ponder. The history of their characters and the consistency they put into their dynamic just gives you so much to play around with and ponder.

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mothgodofchaos · 2 years

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Peppermint

This one started as a short idea and, my fingers got away from me. We’ll just put it that way.

Darkiplier x GN!Reader, TW: mention of death, cheating, bullet wound Words: 1393

It has only been a few months since you were released from the mirror by him. It took you a long time to even look him in the eye. He gave you space, knowing that he’d pay for what he had done to you for as long as you both live, and probably beyond. The first words out of his mouth when he released you were: “I’m sorry-” But “sorry” wouldn’t cover up a hundred years of isolation in that mirror, would it? It wouldn’t even scratch the surface of all the betrayal, all the heartbreak, all that he left behind. He lied. Plain and simple. He robbed you of your body, in a selfish, twisted fit of rage that she kept so expertly hidden. You have no idea how much of it was Damien’s idea, or how much of it was Celine’s, but you were betrayed by your lover. The man who you now see whenever you walk past that damned office. You were left to stew in your thoughts in that mirror for a century, and you came to your conclusion long before your freedom. You thought back to all your happy memories, but even those turn sour after a hundred years. You planned on marrying that man! And he leaves you! For what? Revenge? You can’t even bear to look at him. Any chance taken on his part for interacting with you has been swiftly shut down with a door to the face. Eventually he got the hint. You don’t even see him at all anymore. He hears your footsteps and disappears into his void. Only the faintest bit of his ringing is left behind. You feel alone still, but a different kind of alone. Surely this is better, right? You’re in control, you chose to be alone! This was your idea! It’s not any better. You’re in the kitchen one day when you hear him grunt in pain. You typically ignored him, but this is one of the few times you actually felt bad for him. You had gotten shot, how you died, but he was the one who had to deal with the pain. You overheard him one day talking about his chronic pain, and had been able to pick up on his bad days based on his ringing’s intensity. Today was a very bad day, by the sound of it. You don’t say a word as you quietly make another cup of tea along with your own. You hear him wince, his aura piercing your ears for a moment before settling to a hum. By the other sounds you can make out, he’s laying on the couch now in the living room. You think back to the days when Damien would lay on the couch in his office on bad days, you’d make him tea and bring him a heating pad for his back. You wondered if there was one somewhere in the manor. While the tea steeped, you crept upstairs into his office, finding one in one of his desk drawers. Underneath you see a journal, clearly well used. You don’t hear his ringing, so you feed into the temptation of opening it. Inside are entries, apologies, memories he wishes to not forget. Most of them about you, others to William, some to the memory of normalcy. Before the poker party. Before the cheating, the lying, the killing, the betrayal. Back when he- -he wanted to marry you?? You’re taken aback by the entry, going back to read over it again. “I nearly died with that ring in my pocket. I was hoping to propose to them on the terrace. I was going to ask Mark for permission to use his house as the location. Now it’s been tainted with the memory of death, how could I have done that to them? She was so angry, she didn’t care about them. I’m glad she’s resting, she never would have allowed them to stay here, or let me free them from the mirror. She never really liked them in the first place. Ever since her divorce, she pushed me to put my job above other people. Little did I know she had been cheating on Mark with William. How, how could she do that? It’s too late now. I’ve lost them. It’s been a decade. I still love them, but I can’t hurt them again after what I did.” You look for the ring in the other drawers, finding a box in the style of the nineteen-twenties in his top drawer. It was the only thing in there. You open it, a sapphire surrounded by a silver rose with two small diamonds on the sides. You tear up, realizing that you had been pushing Damien away the whole time. The man you thought you lost. The man you screamed at was the same one who you loved a hundred years ago. It wasn’t his fault. He wanted to free you. You take the box and the heating pad downstairs quietly, peaking to see Dark asleep on the couch in the living room. The tea has gone cold a long time ago. You dump out the two cups, getting the electric kettle going again. You decide to make his favorite again, just like you used to when you would work together. Peppermint for him with a little bit of white sugar, a chai latte for yourself. Every cold morning in that office, you’d sit together on the couch, snuggled before getting to work, trying to warm the other up. That was one of the memories that he had written down, one that you had forgotten in the century in that mirror. It had stripped away almost every part of you, leaving only your anger and hatred for him. You occasionally saw Mark through the mirror, but he seemed to either actively ignore your presence, or didn’t know you were in there. Either way, it didn’t matter. Not like he’d let you out unless you were useful to him. The Mark you knew was no longer in there, all that was left was the entity that created this whole mess. The one that corrupted him, caused him to lash out, to hurt you all. But Celine hurt him of her own accord. She wasn’t living with him when she cheated. They weren’t even separated. You’d blame William as well, but you saw how he had gone mad, he wasn’t the same man he was before either. None of them were. They were a trio growing up, brothers by blood and spirit. Torn apart. The tea finishes steeping and you take the ring box, the heating pad, and his cup of tea, just how he used to drink it, all into the living room. He’s passed out on the couch, still fully clothed in the suit he seemed to never take off. You slowly remove his suit jacket, his belt, and unbutton his shirt. The bullet wound scar on his chest makes you flinch, gently touching it, remembering the shock and pain. You plug in the heating pad, placing it under his lower back, turning it on. You pull a blanket over him, setting the record player in the corner to your favorite record. A Louis Armstrong album, one that looks like he kept it pristine since the day he bought it for you. Another memory that he wrote about in the journal. He had taken you down to the record store on one of his off days, you both picked out albums that you then played all during that night, dancing in his living room and laughing. Neither of you were good dancers then, but he suggested taking some classes together afterwards. You suddenly looked forward to Monday nights a lot more. You open the ring box one more time, staring at the jewel in the center with hurt and love in your heart. You prop it open, leaving it next to his tea. You don’t know if he’ll wake up while it’s still hot, but surely it’s the thought that counts, right? You go to walk out of the room, hand resting on the doorway as you look solemnly over at Dark laying on the couch. You turn back, but pause to speak softly before fully exiting. “I’m sorry, Damien. I still love you…” “I love you too.”

#darkiplier #dark #markiplier egos #darkiplier x reader #dark x reader #gn!reader #TW: death #TW: cheating #TW: bullet wound #chaoswrites #midnight mint

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