#and shes like but his dad was really hard on him its not his fault and eddies like ok??? my dad was hard on me. billy was hard on u. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sporadicthingcollection · 2 months

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The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

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She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

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It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing.

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again?

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line.

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony.

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back.

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck.

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that.

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces.

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?”

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #dad bod buggy

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— SUMMER’S STELLAR GAZE

SUMMARY : part III of gimme half. on a mini-roadtrip to the bunker for something dean left behind, she decides to test dean’s word and his promises.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit (18+), fluff, Dean isn’t allergic to cats in this universe bc wtf, blowjob, hair pulling, dirty talk, road head, risky business

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : silverstein song title. so yeah, I love Dean forever and ever actually, just like I wrote in my diary when I was ten. Omniscient POV to reader’s POV like a good ol’ movie. Xxxxxx

Dean sort of wanted to impress her.

She was a hunter, like him, after all.

If he showed her the Bunker, he hoped she'd be impressed; by him, by it, he really hoped so. There was a lot about the Bunker that impressed him when he’d gotten there. The dungeon, the showers, the lore, the garage, the kitchen, everything. That was his first thought when Sam asked Dean for some boxes of the kitchen items he’d left behind since they couldn’t bring everything with them. Dean saw the opportunity to show off.

The past two weeks went by quickly. They were together now. Shared a New Years kiss at the behest of Eileen, Jack, and even tiny, baby Dean.

Sam and Eileen were like kids with Barbie and Ken dolls, thrilled to make their favourite couple kiss at last. Cas and Jack were stunned at the discovery that two of them hated each other at first, but they were happy to see that Dean was happy.

It all just came together, somehow, after falling apart so messily. Her and Dean. Their lives.

It was natural for her to be around all of them. Dean forgot that it was him she had a problem with at first. It made it easy for Dean and hard for him all at once. They knew her better than he did and she knew them well, too.

They began bonding over hunting stories when he told Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack that she was also a hunter; she'd ask Cas and Jack a dozen questions whenever she could after finding out they were angels—the other, a nephilim. Sometimes, he’d catch a glimpse at Cas’ phone notifications and see what she asks him with a smile on his face.

They’ve all been hanging out because of the holidays. She stayed with him during the weekends because he asked her to. He met her family, it was terrifying since they just started… dating… but her family was funny and kind to him. It eased his nerves, but they told him they’d heard of him from other hunters. He knew he was safe, hunters mostly liked him and his brother… except for the parts where they were at fault for all the bad stuff.

Miracle was happier than ever to have his friend back, her Cat, Bubbles. Dean had a feeling Sam and Jack would take Miracle over to her place or maybe Miracle and Bubbles truly still remembered each other.

Things are better, hotter now that they are together, more than when they were enemies. Dean was just beyond happy that he had her, that they talked about it… sort of.

“You listen to the same music as my big brother,” she chuckled from beside him, the box of cassette tapes resting on her lap as she riffled through them. Dean smiled, taking his eyes off the road to gaze at her momentarily.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning back to the road as they drove into the long, wintry, still-green forest that would lead them to the Bunker.

“Yeah, I grew up on all of this music. My dad even loves Led Zeppelin,” she told him distractedly, staring at the clear plastic box labelled as Led Zeppelin. She shrugged and inserted the cassette tape into the deck of the car, Bonzo’s Montreux playing softly.

“You get more and more awesome the more I get to know you,” he told her, biting his lip when he looked over at her. She pursed her lips as she smiled, entertained by his flirty, deep voice and his suggestive wink.

“Awesome?” She smirked, putting the box back into its place. He turned to look at her once more, but he couldn’t look away from the softness and mischief in her eyes the whole time.

“Perfect?” He offered, glancing away from her, taking in the big green trees he’s already familiar with. “Kissable? Hotter?” He suggested, smiling coquettishly. “Mmm, extra fuckable?” She looked at him through her lashes, her cheeks pink, and her breath unstable.

Dean shifted in his seat and sat up straight, looking away from her arousing fuck-me gaze with his fingers tightening around the black steering wheel of his heavy car. Heat flooded the area between her legs at his reaction. Her clit pulsed in pace with her heartbeat and she bit her lip. A million ideas streamed through her mind. A million ideas to relieve the need she had to be fucked by Dean once more.

The tension in the car was nearly as thick as the first night they had sex, it made her breathless, her heart pounded heavily with lust in her chest, and her pussy squeezed around nothing, instantly remembering the sex they had in his garage before they left.

She placed her hand on his thigh and he inhaled sharply, quickly turning to look at her with a deep blush on his face. Dean relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, and held it with only one hand, to put one of his hands over hers. She bit her lip and watched the side of his gorgeous face as he guided her hand higher.

She smiled brightly and lifted her hand beneath his to smack his hand away. He chuckled, taking a quick glance over at her playfulness.

“You said you’d fuck me anywhere, at any time,” she leaned over slightly, placing her arms on top of the seat, and resting her chin on her crossed arms. He glanced at her, exhaling shakily as she held his gaze through her lashes. “You promised me a lot of things, actually,” she moved her hand away, tracing his jaw with her fingers. His eyes fluttered shut. “Dean…” she murmured, moving her fingers up to his lips, and he opened his eyes before he could swerve too far from the road. “I recall a few things you seemed to really like.”

She leaned forward suddenly, licking his earlobe mischievously. Dean moaned softly, his eyelids heavy with lust, and his eyes clouded over with arousal.

“Like making me choke on your cock,” she whispered into his ear, dragging her lips down his neck. He groaned softly and shuddered, squirming as he attempted to focus on driving. “I want you in my mouth, Dean,” she purred, sliding her hand down his chest and stomach slowly, “right here, right now.”

“Fuck,” Dean moaned, lifting his hips up into her hand when she cupped his cock over his jeans. She sucked gently at his pulse, making the faded mark on his neck return. “Yes,” he whispered, biting his lip hard.

“I love when you get hard for me, baby,” she murmured, squeezing his cock.

“I need you,” he rasped, “I want to see your pretty mouth wrapped around me.” She laughed softly, unbuckling herself from the seat and then him. He chewed on his lip and focusing on driving as he got closer to the Bunker while she unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips after she unzipped his jeans, allowing her to lower them slightly until his cock was free.

“You’re aware of how blessed you are, right?” She teased, biting her lip, sliding her fingers up his cock. Dean gasped and then he laughed breathlessly, his dick twitching at her delicate touch.

“I’m aware of how much you like my dick?” He smiled down at her shyly. She licked her lips, and rolled her eyes at his modesty. She kissed the tip, then gently placed her hand around the base to kiss her way down.

“Have you heard the sounds I make when you fuck me?” She whispered against the velvety skin of his cock. He grunted softly when she flattened her tongue and licked her way back up. “I don’t make those often, by the way,” she said casually, swirling her tongue around the tip.

“Here I thought you were a good girl,” he breathed out, lowering one hand into her hair, to try and push her down on his cock. She squeezed his cock, jerking her hand up and down quickly, then sucked on the tip hard, causing him to choke on a moan. She pulled away with a loud suckling sound that made him curse under his breath.

“I went over to your place without underwear, and then I asked you to talk dirty as I sucked your dick, and then I begged you to cum inside me. What part of all that made you think I was a good girl?” She lapped the precum that beaded from his tip, her mouth watering at the taste of him.

“The morning after,” he answered softly, his emerald eyes flickering to hers. She stopped licking his cock momentarily to consider his words, the tenderness in his voice causing her stomach to flutter. It was things like this, his words, his actions… things like that about Dean that aroused her even more.

She moaned appreciatively, lowering her mouth over his dick, then pulled up almost all the way off, repeating the motion, and then began sucking, and licking. He moaned her name softly, struggling to focus on driving such a heavy car, but she noticed the slower speed.

She took him deeper into her mouth, gagging slightly when he touched the back of her throat. Dean moaned out a curse, tightening his grip on her hair, pushing her up and down his cock faster. She moaned softly around him, letting him guide her as she sucked her way up his cock, her tongue moving along the underside of his length. Occasionally, her throat constricted around his length as she swallowed.

His hitched breath made her wetter, throaty groans, and desperate grunts made her clit pulse uncomfortably in her warm dress pants. She reached down to press her fingers against her clit and took him all the way down her throat. His hips bucked upwards and the leather around the wheel squeaked under his tight grip, but he never pulled too roughly on her hair.

“Holy fuck,” Dean grunted as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock when she got to the leaking tip and sucked the taste of his precum. Then, she began to twist her hand around him, following the path of her mouth up and down, until she heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath the wheels of the car, and the Impala coming to a complete stop.

Dean relaxed completely as he set the car in park, leaning his head backwards. The sounds of his pleasure and the wet sound of her mouth and throat getting fucked competed for volume. Dean lifted his shirt and gazed down at her, thrusting his hips up faster into her mouth.

She blinked away tears to stare into his eyes, her cheeks and ears burning hot, her jaw and lips sore from taking him. She moaned softly again, letting him push his cock up into her throat, catching the blurred ecstasy on his face. His red lips trapped between white teeth, his freckled cheeks rosy, and his brows furrowed.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he panted, lovingly moving her hair from her pink and wet face. She hummed around him in approval and closed her eyes, focusing on bringing him closer to his climax. Dean’s thrusts began to stutter and he started to get more vocal, arousing her further. “God, I love your mouth,” he whispered, thrusting upwards hard as he came in thick, hot spurts down her throat. “Fuck, yeah,” he moaned, shuddering at the feeling of her swallowing around him.

Dean pulled her off him despite not finishing, his cum dripping down his cock despite her best efforts to collect everything. That seemed to be the purpose. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her with his tongue poking between his teeth, looking both cute and sexy.

“What?” She asked, and kept tugging at his cock as his cum dribbled down from the slit, and over her hand. She tightened her hold around the heat of him in her wet hand. She bit her wet, swollen lip, and sat up, slowly stopping the strokes of her hand to watch him.

Dean leaned forward to kiss her all of the sudden, her heart lurching in her chest, the way it always did when he kissed her. He held her jaw, licking her spit and his cum from her lip. He moaned into her mouth, pulling her face closer, meeting her warm tongue with his. She let go of his dick, and smiled against his mouth, before pulling away.

Dean chased her lips, but she pushed his chest roughly so he stayed pressed against the seat, laughing quietly. He smiled leaning forward anyway, his nose brushing against hers, lips agonisingly remaining a few millimetres away from hers.

“Can we have sex in your old bed?” She whispered, tugging gently at his jacket, her lips brushing against his. He panted against her mouth, whining softly in attempts to make her kiss him.

“Yes, whatever you want,” he responded quietly.

She hummed when she kissed Dean once more; a passionate, long, and deep kiss with tongue and teeth that made her needier. She helped readjust him as they made out, a hot and breathy exchange before heading back on the road to the Bunker.

➥ closer than this

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias

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#dean’s 45th birthday celebration #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #dean win

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eddiemunsonsbedroom · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: After months of dancing around your feelings with Joel, it comes to a head. And his reason for avoiding you comes as a surprise.

Warnings: MDNI 18+; suggestive content, no actual smut (yet?), potential for part two, which would be afab reader, since that’s all I can really do justice/know first hand, but no descriptive qualities as far as looks. Jackson era, swearing, age gap (32 and 56). Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Be gentle on me- I haven’t written much and not in SO long. And none for Joel.

Also rapidly realizing that despite taking so many honors English classes in HS and college, I really know fuck all about correct paragraph format and present/past tense, omfg.

Lemme know if you want the smut and I’ll make a part two lmao.

Joel is avoiding you.

You know it. He knows it.

And you know why.

You’ve been dancing around each other for days now. Ever since all of the lingering glances and brushing of arms came to a head and you grabbed his thigh in the shadows of the Tipsy Bison. Encouraged by his low lids and your even lower whiskey glasses.

He stopped breathing, and when he realized himself, he jumped like he’d been burned. Muttering some excuse before darting from the bar.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or to be embarrassed. But why be embarrassed when you knew how he actually felt? You could see it every time he looked at you with those dark eyes. Did he think he was being sly?

Months of the spindly fingers of your dry humor and wit, selflessness and competency that he so admired, worming its way through the splintering cracks of his walls until, without him even noticing, they shattered completely.

But you were too fucking young. He could’ve been your dad, for fuck’s sake.

You couldn’t have been more than your early thirties, at most. He was afraid to ask. At 56, he had no business looking at you in any form other than just his patrol partner. At most- a friend.

But fuck, it had been so long. Maybe that’s all it was, right? But even with Tess, he’d never felt like this. That was friendship- the sex just a means to an end- a way to escape. With you… he knew it went beyond just physical attraction. If he said it didn’t, he’d just be lying to himself. It was all of you.

It wasn’t his fault that he liked when you shot a clicker in the head without even an afterthought. Or that you could put someone in their place while being respectful at the same time. That you could teach him new things without making him feel like a stupid old man.

It wasn’t his fault that you could catch him off guard and make him laugh like he hasn’t in years. Or that your eyes sparkling in the Tipsy Bison twinkle lights made him stop breathing. And it definitely wasn’t his fault that he had to practically run from you so your wandering hand didn’t feel his thickening hard-on that came out of nowhere, like he was a fucking teenager.

It wasn’t your fault that he felt this way about you. But he had to be the one to stop it. Pretend like it never happened.

Which obviously you wouldn’t stand for. He should’ve known better.

As soon as you saw your name next to someone else’s on the patrol schedule for the following day, you decided that enough was enough. You gave him a few days to sort his shit out. It was time to give him a piece of your fucking mind.

———

Walking to Joel’s house was easy. Unfortunately for him, you were neighbors. Fortunately for him, you left your knives at home. You were fantasizing about stabbing him at this point.

Passing by Ellie’s lit up apartment you were relieved that she wouldn’t have to bear witness to your rapidly growing annoyance. It was beginning to fester into self doubt. Because fuck, what if you imagined how he felt and you basically assaulted him in public? Except you know that’s not the case. Right?

As soon as Joel opens the door you’re pushing past him into the kitchen.

It looks like he hasn’t done a dish in days. Flannels taken off after a long day strewn over the backs of dining chairs. Crumbs on the counter.

“Jesus, Joel, crack a window. What’s going on in here?”

Sighing your name, he rounds the corner after you. “Is there a reason you barged into my house?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been avoiding me,” you huff, leaning against his counter.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he averts his eyes, deciding that now is the time to tidy his kitchen.

“Don’t bullshit me, Joel.”

“‘m not,” he sighs, filling the sink with warm water.

“Yeah? Then why is now the time to do the dishes that have been sitting there for three days?”

Fuck. He knows you’re not going to let this go, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to avoid the topic for as long as possible.

“Joel, did I make you uncomfortable?”

His head snaps up, “what?”

That, unfortunately, was the furthest thing from the truth. He wishes it was so he could gently let you down and have you be on your way. Go back to the way things were before, before he knew what he was missing. Before he got addicted to you and you consumed his every waking thought.

“When I… touched you. In the bar,” you falter, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Second guessing everything. Because what if that’s actually what this was?

He decides to get it over with before this becomes any more unbearable.

“Christ. No, I wasn’t uncomfortable. That was the problem,” he grits out.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking. Knew it!”

“Listen-“

“No, you listen. I don’t know what your deal is. I get that we’ve both been through some fucked up shit in the last twenty years, and maybe that’s a huge reason for why you’re so closed off. Denying yourself something that you obviously want-“

He starts to cut you off, saying your name in a stern whisper, but you don’t let him.

“Let me finish.” Surprisingly, he lets you continue, a war waging in his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Joel. I’m asking you to just be fucking honest with me. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. It doesn’t have to be anything at all. But I know you feel something for me.”

He’s gripping the counter so hard that his knuckles are turning white. His jaw ticks as he looks down into the sink, watching the little soap bubbles burst until he collects his thoughts enough to speak. You don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he starts talking.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do with this. I’m too-“

“Stubborn?” You suggest, despite yourself.

“Old,” he forces out.

Your eyebrows shoot into your hairline, because that is not at all what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m 56. I’m way too old for you, sweetheart.”

You clench at the nickname despite wanting to throttle him. “I’m 32. Not 13.”

He groans. “Not helping.”

You lean away from the counter. “I thought you were avoiding this because you were like…” you flail your hands, trying to find the words, “emotionally fucked up, or something.”

He snorts, despite how flustered he feels at admitting his insecurities. “I probably am. But that’s not the point.”

“I’m a grown ass woman. We met as two grown ass adults, Joel. What are you afraid of?”

He clenches his jaw. He can’t meet your eyes.

You press on. “Are you worried about what society thinks? There’s an apocalypse, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t give a shit what Mrs. Johnson down the street thinks. She’s an asshole anyway-“

“Darlin’-“

“No. What’s the point in surviving if you stopped really living twenty years ago? You’re not dead. You deserve to do what makes you feel alive.”

He drags his eyes up to yours, leaning up from the sink. You think he might touch you, but he only faces you. Hesitant.

“Doesn’t bother you that I’m old?” He rasps, eyes low, inching closer. “Hm?”

“I think it’s kind of hot,” you say, smirking.

You shyly smile at each other. Letting it settle.

“We only live once, Joel,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be on my death bed thinking, ‘damn, I really wished I’d fucked that old man’.”

He barks a single surprised laugh at that, throwing his head back.

And you think he’s never looked so beautiful.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel tlou #thelastofus #pedrohub #joel miller x reader

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tumblingxelian · 7 months

Text

The Fraught Family Ties of the Rose-Xiao Long Household:

Sorry for the ramble, I wanted to share something born of a discussion I had with someone regarding the canonical relationship on the Rose-Xiao Long sisters & their father figures.

So, I often find Tai (& Qrow) propped up as good father figures who maybe just had some moments of weakness but either got better long before canon or during the show and who are super close with Ruby & Yang with very healthy relationships.

Given possibly my most popular post, (Yang & Ruby's childhood) I don't think this is a universal stance, certainly not these days, and I don't think its well supported in canon either.

This doesn't mean that love isn't there, but love and resentment can live in the same house and the Rose-Xiao Long household is far more complex than I think people give it credit for.

Now, some will probably highlight positive tones and references in the early volumes, but here's the thing. A child growing up around something can get used to a lot. Ruby & Yang are clearly very used to Qrow stumbling home utterly wasted, even carried by strangers and needing to take care of him. This is normal to them and neither show any resentment towards it until on their last nerve.

That is to say, Ruby and Yang are fine with Qrow's drinking and smile through it, riiiight up until they themselves are on the edge of snapping real hard over things such as in V6.

Neither of them express their trauma like say, Jaune does, who tends to be quite open with his resentment and prone to lashing out. The sisters smile through it, they may express frustration or anger at other things, but not their loved one's, which makes it easy to pretend everything is cool and normal.

Hell, keeping things light with humor is explicitly noted to be how Yang copes and Ruby is shown consistently beginning to show sadness before quickly bottling it up up. This is just how they handle negative emotions they cant comfortably express.

Thus, while Ruby expressing frustration at Yang giving Tai like advice in V1 doesn't indicate hostility, nor does her being all smiles around his presence in V3's opening indicate everything is super awesome.

After all, things are good at that moment, but let's take a look at the end of V3.

Tai is clearly worrying and trying to fuss over Ruby. But she is very neutral on the whole thing, mostly just trying to get intel on what the fuck happened from him and not being remotely upset when Qrow makes him leave. She show's a bit more vulnerability around Qrow, but is still very focused on the practical questions of what happened.

Its only when she's alone with Yang, that Ruby really becomes expressive with her emotions and more to the point, shows outright uncertainty in what to do. This leads her to being shocked when Yang is in no fit state t provide her with the guidance and support she clearly craves and expected.

Ruby also specifically addresses her letters to Yang and broadly speaking doesn't really seem to think about Tai all that much. Again I don't think she dislikes him, but given she openly acknowledges Yang as the one who raised her & Yang herself noted she had to keep the family together...

Well, I think that Ruby doesn't really perceive Tai as a parent, strictly speaking. In the sense that I don't believe she views Tai as someone to go to for comfort or advice or guidance.

He's her dad and she loves him, but he's less of an adult to her than Yang was. In that same vein Qrow is a Huntsmen, her mentor and uncle yes, but the former I think inform her behavior with him more than the latter.

Now, let's also compare Tai and Yang's relationship a little.

We know Tai taught her how to fight, but he doesn't show any real understanding of how her Semblance works or her fighting style given she has utilized plenty of blocks, dodges and clever strategies in the first three volumes. What's more him critiquing her for fighting that way and making it her fault when he taught her feels suspect to me.

(I would note it was Yang who realized Ruby needed CQC help before anyone else, so she clearly thought deeply on this stuff.)

But beyond that, we see Yang is heavily isolated, both from how the camera work frames her. But also because she us housed in a guest room and that Tai, while obviously unhappy about what happened overall seems far more focused on Ruby in terms of trying to provide some care. What's more, when she's clearly distressed he walks away and leaves her to stew.

Yang's shown still doing lots of work around the house, despite everything and his efforts to 'help' her are all about getting her back into the fight over worrying for her safety like he did Ruby.

This is a big thing for me, Tai was clearly deeply upset when Qrow wanted to speak to Ruby alone and terrified when she left.

Meanwhile when it comes to 'helping' Yang its all about getting back into the action and going after Ruby. He doesn't seem to mind the idea of sending her into danger.

Then there' show he hypocritically dismisses her trauma and depression while at the same time diminishing her maturity despite him having left her to raise Ruby and keep the family together.

He also makes his help for her conditional on her no longer "Moping" while its her teachers who barely know Yang that provide actually useful guidance on healing.

When alone he also frames 'caring for her' IE letting her live in the house and take care of herself, like its this heavy burden that is keeping him from Ruby.

This is despite the fact he ultimately does not go after Ruby.

You can claim its a budget thing the show we have is the show we have. Thus, he sends her off to parent Ruby instead of himself. Also Tai outright compares Yang to Raven despite them being radically different and honestly Ruby being a lot closer to even the positive traits he ascribed to Raven.

Thus I think there's an element of projection that leads to Ruby being preferences between the two but also Tai having come in too late to really be seen as the parent he wants to be perceived as.

Now, let's look at Qrow.

Both sisters are clearly used to him staggering or being carried home drunk and needing to take care of him, meaning they have been doing this since childhood.

This would have a hugely negative impact on their mental wellbeing and impact how they perceive him.

Beyond that, I am unsure how close he even is to Yang outside the superficial. Some of that may indeed be down to time, but there have been periods where they could have shown a deep bond and its not manifested.

When Yang is framed, her team, two of whom have only know her for a few months and have plenty of trauma that would make them rightly suspicious choose to believe her and sympathize with her.

Qrow meanwhile says she is either lying or crazy and does not express much in the way of real empathy or trust.

Rather than showing an interest in maybe trying to resolve the issue or help her through decides that maybe directing her to Raven might help. He obviously cares, but generally never shows much of the same concern or affection for Yang that he does for Ruby.

Granted even then Qrow requires caretaking from both his nieces.

What's more he often tethers Ruby to Summer. So while his mentorship of her does let her be a little more vulnerable with him than Tai its still an unbalanced relationship.

However outside of that, Qrow's generally fairly good with Ruby and her influence on him seemed to be the primary thing that stopped him drinking. He also shows a great deal of faith in her in general, though how much of that is projection likely varies.

But he mentored Ruby so its natural they are maybe a little closer.

Still, I think Ruby & Yang held Qrow in higher regard, at least as a Huntsmen than their father, there's a lot of baggage to the relationship at a minimum.

I also think Ruby & Yang's lack of communication seen in later volumes is sort of reflective of the families unhealthy dynamics evolving between them.

Yang being forced to raise a sister two years younger than her is already a heavy burden on both of them. Yang from having to step up and fill the roll of an adult as a child & Ruby because no matter how hard Yang tried it as never gonna be perfect but she couldn't exactly complain about it either.

So both just sort of smiled through the pain as they grew and came out fairly functional and happy if carrying a lot of baggage beneath the surface. This is why both respond to grief and trauma in a similar manner, pushing the issues down until they explode or collapse. It was how they got by.

They were also extremely close, for all that Yang talked of Ruby maybe trying to branch out onto other teams, she instantly tried to seek her out in the Emerald Forest, saved her a spot in the auditorium and generally tried to assist and advice her along with expressing great pride in her.

Ruby bore with with a mixed degree of playfulness and teen like annoyance, while still wanting to cling to Yang. She was also very comfortable early on with expressing her concerns around Yang, such as with Blake being so stressed and not knowing what to do about it & seemingly had total faith in Yang's ability to resolve things.

As previously outlined, when Ruby was seeking comfort and guidance after the Fall of Beacon she went to Yang and was shocked when Yang couldn't provide her what she needed and quickly began separating herself, clearly deeply impacted.

Yang remained the center of her homeward focus after that fact and when Yang returned she was able to express vulnerability with her.

Briefly.

However, Yang soon showed that her recovery was not as complete as she wanted to project and again Ruby was at a loss for what to do with a Yang who is upset.

Keep in mind she's entirely capable of comforting a drunk, hung over or otherwise very upset Qrow, but the prospect of comforting Yang leaves her shuffling nervously outside the door while Weiss helps her.

Ruby's perception of Yang seemed to have put her on something of a pedestal in the way a lot of children do their parents where its hard to start seeing them as a person.

& When Ruby did start seeing Yang as a person, her complexes regarding leadership caused her to see Yang as someone who needed protection.

This caused her to freeze Yang out of her issues, we see this with her rejecting Yang's efforts to comfort her in V8, responding instead with sullen silences or sharp emotional jabs to try and make Yang go away.

Yet at the same time, she didn't entirely try to keep the façade up, perhaps in part because she couldn't.

I also think there's a part of her that sort... Expected Yang to know what to do and to say for her even though Ruby has changed as a person and is no longer communicating clearly like she used to.

Which then causes her to resent Yang for not being able to say the right things and provide the right assistance like she did when they were kids. Even though Yang doesn't know how Ruby feels their relationship has changed and can't know with Ruby actively avoiding acting in a manner that would elicit her concern.

Basically, this is an extremely messy family.

It has four actual adults, the most competent of whom martyred herself. One of whom left because she couldn't handle it and two of whom failed when put to the test.

This left the role of grown up in the room to Yang who had to keep the family together and raise her sister. While Ruby had to basically become the least troubled child possible to make this easier on them all.

Raven cutting herself out of their lives and her ties to Yang, while Summer being a beloved martyr seems to have also rippled down to their kids.

With Yang almost being like the black sheep of the family. She's the one they expect to do something immoral or "crazy' and generally expected to take care of herself and Ruby without any kind of acknowledgement or significant assistance.

Meanwhile Ruby is regarded as a sort of proto Summer, this beacon of purity, which leaves Tai over protective but ultimately inactive leaving the task of helping her to Yang. With Qrow expecting the world from her which just applies more pressure.

I do think everyone of them love each other, but I also think there's also a lot of resentment, frustration and projection going on here, with many utter failures of parenting. These ultimately caused the families relationships to never developed into what they should be and are instead leaving them in an odd sort of limbo; with a lot left unsaid and unhealthy.

#RWBY #Ruby Rose #Yang Xiao Long #Tai & Qrow did not do a good job #Do not clown on this post #Family trauma #RWBY Analysis #Yang raised Ruby #Ruby had to be 'OK' all the time

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oddballwriter · 4 months

Note

My god I just finished reading all of your moon boys as dads blurbs and holy shit

I was hoping you would write a blurb/one-shot where Marc just can't help but compare fem! reader (they have 2 sons) and his mother, but the reader doesn't act the way his mom would and that is slowly but surely healing him. Maybe also where their younger boy gets hurt while playing with his brother and she calms their oldest by saying "It wasn't your fault, you didn't do it on purpose". Poor Marc would definitely start crying as soon as they're alone. Anyway, toodles!

Healing Wounds

Summary: Fatherhood was something that really healed Marc in a way that he couldn't imagine, and with that, situations are a lot less stress-inducing and let him enjoy finer moments with his family.

Warnings: Talk about Marc's trauma. Thoughts of self-doubt and being unable to let go of the past. Y/N and Marc (and the rest) being good parents. A whole lot of fluff at the end.

Author’s Snip: We love letting our man heal his mental and emotional wounds.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 859

It was kind of funny. Of course, you and him end up having two sons. It just had to happen like that didn't it. It wasn't like he didn't want them. God, no. Marc would never trade his boys for anything and he knows that neither would you.

But it was always there in the back of his mind. The faintest overlay in his vision and memory to back when he was a kid and all of its awful moments. All the screaming, crying, pain, and moments and milestones that were stained no matter how much he tried to scrub the bad out.

With your first, Aaron, there was the dread of being a parent and doing it wrong. He didn't want to get any of it wrong but there was the dilemma of where exactly he was meant to be. Too much of a pushover then his son would be spoiled and never get the hang of life. Too strict and demanding then he'd just be her. And Marc would rather die than even be her in the slightest. It was a hard thing for him to balance in his own mind. Marc was gone for a while but you all knew that it was for him to reflect and gather himself. Marc very much still had some wounds that he needed to lick before he took that journey.

And he did great. All three of them did great in their own ways but Marc clearly felt more comfortable and secure with himself being a dad and also working with you. You knew deep down that you were a part of that security, that the image was mostly on you. And you made sure that Marc never saw her in you even once. It's not like you were planning too, of course. You couldn't even imagine doing such things, or how any mother could have the audacity.

But when Matthew, or Matty as you all call him, came along there was a new dilemma that brought on more thoughts that wouldn't leave him alone. But Marc knew that Aaron and you managed to heal those wounds, so he knew that this would heal up so much more. He just needed to believe in himself and you, and the process.

Marc had the usual talk that a parent would with a soon-to-be older sibling, the whole "Just because we're having another one and are giving them more attention doesn't mean we don't love you. They just need more attention because they're small". Aaron understood, matter of fact he seemed really excited to be an older brother. Marc took that and made it something to use for healing. You and him taught Aaron how to help take care of Matthew and how to hold him, letting him be a part of his baby brother's life.

Years went by and they both grew, you bought a house, Marc started feeling better, and everything felt perfect. Sure, there were some moments but they never really impacted anything. There was no fear, no nights spent laying awake worrying about something happening, no moments where the ghosts of a past long since passed showed up in his mind.

That was until one day when everything was seemingly normal. You were doing something, Marc wasn't really paying attention and also couldn't remember what he was doing either. The boys were playing in the backyard. But at some point, you both hear a scream and then a cry coming from the backyard.

Rushing out, you find Matthew sitting on the grass crying and holding his foot while Aaron is kneeling next to him and looks upset and panicked. You go and pick up Matthew while Aaron is repeating "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." and possibly about to cry himself. That's when it all gets Marc, and hard.

He feels overwhelmed by everything, but just before it gets too much he sees you try and settle your boys down. "What happened?" you asked Aaron calmly while holding Matthew who was sniffling into your shoulder. "We were playing soccer and he was going to get the ball in my goal so I tried to stop him, but I didn't know where his foot was so when I kicked he fell." Aaron explains as he starts to cry. You kneel down to his eye level, "Hey, it's okay, sweetie." you shush, "Was it an accident?" you ask. Aaron nods as he whips his tears. "Okay, then it wasn't your fault. You didn't mean to trip him." you say as you help him whip away his tears. "Are you okay, Matty?" you ask the smaller boy to which he nods.

"Alright. Then why don't we just hug it out and maybe sit down for a little or do something inside, yeah?" you suggest. The two boys immediately go in for the group hug, but you glance up at Marc, seeing him watch the whole thing, and gesture for him to join in. Marc, trying to hold back the water in his eyes, joins in. It lasts a few seconds but Marc can feel the situation healing up something again.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #dad!marc spector

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kkcauseway · 4 months

Text

Oh Baby P3

Chapter summary: The end is nigh, what you've been waiting for is finally here. Baby is coming! and you have the best support, Joel really is so good at everything he does. It's a hard labour but Joel helps you through it in the best possible way. Chapter warnings and content: Tw-childbirth, pregnancy, waters breaking. Breast/nipple play, I guess pregnancy kink kinda? Unprotected PinV, Caring!Joel, Parent!Joel. Joel being the best girl dad. Events of after the outbreak. Word count: 6.6K Authors note: Part three we made it! The end of an era eeek! i really hope you enjoy reading this!

Series Masterlist I Main Masterlist

You’re sat up in bed when Joel finally wakes. Its only six, but it’s like he can sense when something isn’t right. You’ve been awake for a while, but he must’ve felt your presence leave the room to make the tea or felt as you slipped back into bed but didn’t get yourself comfortable next to him again.

“You okay Baby?” he questions sleepily on seeing that you’re sat up in bed with a cup of herbal tea, visibly tired, but unable to sleep.

“She’s awake so y’know what that means” you groan stroking your stomach with one hand when your back spasms. “And of course, I’ve been having the nightly occurrence of pains” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, y’gonna be okay today?” he sits up studying you.

“Yeah Baby” you reach out to stroke his cheek, “I’m more than-”

“Used to them by now” he finishes for you. “Yeah, I know Baby I just hate you being like this. Y’know this patrol today, I don’t have to go, Tommy and Maria both said I didn’t need to do anymore especially with how you’ve been.”

You chuckle, “I know Joel, but you’ve also been losing your mind being cooped up, don’t try, and lie and say you haven’t, cus you have. I’ll have Ellie with me all day! You’ll be back before you even realise you’ve gone, trust me I’ll be okay, so stop worrying.” You chuckle, but then wince the laughing causing your boobs to bounce. “Fuck my boobs are really sore” you whine.

And Joel knows exactly what that means he needs to do. In about one of the only ways, he can make you feel better.

He sits up in an instant. Dirty smirk on his face. “They just need a lil bit of loving s’all don’t they?” So, he bends to draw his tongue over your nipple twirling it round and round before biting softly, he then does the same on the other.

He begins to massage them in his warm large palms causing you to moan and writhe. “Needy again aint yah Baby? Never known someone who needs to fuck so often.” He chuckles taking one hand away to find its way to your core. Stroking his fingers through the slick of your wet cunt before spreading it to you clit and circling. Setting a pace that has you nearing release almost instantly.

“Mmm Joel” you whimper.

“Such a good girl, I’ll make you feel good don’t worry” he squeezes your breasts harder. Taking them back into his mouth as he puts more pressure on your clit, whilst shoving a finger in and out of your tight hole.

“Ugh, g- gonna cum Joel.”

“S’it good girl give it to me!” he demands into your breast, not letting up his pace.

You lose yourself after hearing his gruff voice once more. His ability to make you feel things you never thought you’d be able to leaves you forever wanting. So really, it’s his fault you wana fuck all the time.

“Fuck me” you whisper when his fingers eventually leave your core. Still shaking post orgasm. Your whole body already begging to be filled once more.

“Yeah? S’that what y’need?”

“Yeah” you whisper.

He helps you to lie on your side then before slotting in behind you lifting your thigh ever so slightly as he aims himself at your aching cunt. He pushes in all the way on one agonising thrust. Bringing a hand round to touch your breasts once more “I’ll make you feel better Baby.” He whispers into your ear as he begins to move.

“Ugh Joel” you moan.

“Come on Baby know you’ve got another one in there for me.” He coaxes moving slowly within you holding you tight as he finds a new, deeper angle.

🩷

Once satisfied Joel then helps you to get ready for the day. It’s Tuesday and as arranged you and Ellie are watching Ted so Maria can go to her important council meeting and of course as per, Joel and Tommy are out on a patrol. The pains you had through the night every so often left you completely restless. You definitely feel as though they’re different, even if it’s only a slight difference. Looking after Ted will mean you have your hands full, you’re already glad of the distraction and it’s not even begun.

On his insistence Joel slowly walks you over to Tommy and Maria’s. Not satisfied until you’re content in the house. There’s no sign of Ellie when you first arrive but it’s not long until she knocks. “Sorry overslept” she utters out of breath when Joel opens the door to her.

With Ellie as your personal ‘aide’ for the day, him and Tommy leave for their patrol and then it isn’t long till Maria goes to meet the council. Explaining they’re determining someone’s fate, on if they get to stay in Jackson or not after an incident on a previous patrol.

🩷

You lap up every second of your nephews company. Enjoying him being crazy till he tires himself out and then all warm and snuggly.

You’re snuggling with Ted on the sofa after having some lunch. Ellie offering to wash up. He’s curls up round your bump, his head resting against your chest as he watches a cartoon. He’s sleepy but fighting it. You can’t wait to do this with your own baby.

“Heyyy!” Ted suddenly shouts lifting his head to look down at your stomach.

“What’s up Teddy?”

“The baby kickeded me!”

You laugh “They’re just sayin’ hi! They know that their cousin Teddy is close.” You stroke your belly, and he follows the pattern you draw with his own palm. Content for a second until his crazy three-year-old mind begins whirring again.

“Why am I the baby’s cos-un?” he questions looking at you.

“Why are you the baby’s cousin?”

“Yah!”

“Well remember I told you this before, your daddy and Uncle Joel are brothers, aren’t they?”

He nods “yeah, I love my Uncle Joel and my daddy, they’re the bestest!”

“Yeah, they are huh? Well, they are brothers and you’re daddy’s baby aren’t you and then this baby is Uncle Joel’s baby. So that makes you and this baby cousins.”

“Is it fun?”

“Fun being a cousin?”

He nods looking to you curiously.

“Oh yes, the most fun! When I was your age, I loved my cousins more than anyone else in the whole wide world! We had weekends where we used to make blanket forts and eat loads of sweets!”

“Yay! I’m so ‘sited! I want the baby to come now! Can they come now?” he looks to the bump once more.

“They’ll come soon don’t worry, but right now they want a snack! Do you want one too?”

“Yes peaseeee!” you smile at one another then before going on a mission to find food.

🩷

Throughout the day you notice the pains you have seem to be slightly different, but you’re so distracted running around after Ted that you don’t take too much notice. It’s always in the back of your mind though that this could potentially be ‘it’, and it’s an exciting prospect.

The day is over before you know it and with Maria arriving back, you tell Ellie she can go and meet Dina if she wants, which of course she does. She jumps at the chance. Anyone would think she hates your company, but then you remember what it felt like to be young and in love-which she definitely is (even if she wont admit it to you), and so you can’t blame her for the way she behaves.

With Ted finally down for a nap you get started on cooking with Maria’s help. Getting some lovely food ready for your boys for when they get back from their exhausting day on patrol. You find this to be the best opportunity to finally relay your feelings to Maria.

“Maria, I think there’s a chance I could be in labour? Maybe I’m not sure. How did you know you were in labour?”

“What? Why are you thinking that?” she startles. “And my waters broke it all started there for me, but not everyone’s waters break right away.”

“Well, these pains today are definitely seeming to be different. Only a little, but they seem to be in more of a pattern too. And they’ve never been in a pattern before.”

“Oh, how exciting! It might be especially if you say there’s more of a pattern.”

“Guess we will have to wait and see huh?” you giggle so excited at the thought it could be.

You leave Maria to go to the bathroom a short while later, with a real sudden urge to go, but stop in your tracks along the way, not even making it out of the kitchen. You feel something trickle and find yourself gripping your stomach.

“Maria!?” it comes out squeaky.

“Yeah?” she turns from the stove to look at you. “What’s wrong, what’s up?”

“How long till the boys get back?”

“Erm only about an hour or so now why?” she looks to her watch then back to you.

“I think my water might have just broke.”

“What really are you sure? You, okay?” she’s quick to be at your side walking you over to a chair and helps you to sit.

“Yeah, I think so. Like I said I’ve had pains off and on all day and I knew they felt different to my usual but of course I wasn’t sure, although it was in the back of my mind, but this now I can feel it leaking out of me. Oh God this is actually happening.” You laugh. Finding yourself not panicking, but everything seems to be hitting you at once and you can’t seem to stop talking. Always one for nervous chatter.

“Okay just take a breath!” Maria laughs “Are you okay? You need anything?”

“I’m fine, excited, nervous” you laugh. “I’m gonna, ouch!” you moan briefly feeling a spasm in your back. “I’m gonna go put a pad on, cus otherwise this chairs gonna get all wet, I’ll be back” you wink.

Maria helps you to stand holding you when your back spasms again.

It’s whilst you’re in the bathroom that you have your first proper contraction. You sway your body side to side as you breathe softly, rubbing at your hardening stomach. You can’t believe it’s finally happening. That the day is finally here after waiting and praying for so long, you can’t wait to finally meet your baby. It makes you smile. You’re at a point in your life that you always dreamed of but never though would happen. Especially with adding the end of the world into the mix. You’ve never ever been happier.

After sorting yourself out you walk back to the kitchen smiling at Maria upon entry.

“It’s definitely happening, had a proper contraction in the bathroom.”

“Amazing… Man, it makes me want another one so badly! Think Ted would love a little brother or sister, don’t you? I’ve radioed down, they’re only 30 minutes out so won’t be long, don’t worry I didn’t say why I was asking would give Joel a heart attack if I did” she chuckles. “But we’ll keep an eye on you, call for Jen if we need her, if not, let’s get some food in you and then you and Joel can go to the clinic afterwards, okay? Unless you feel like you need to go now, if you do we’ll go I’ll drop Ted with Ellie at Dina’s?”

“No honestly, I’m fine for now, the second we need to go, we’ll go. I’m starving though, can’t wait to eat!” you giggle.

“That’s good you’ll need all the strength you can get, so a big meal will work wonders. You just stay comfy here I’ll finish the food.” She smiles at you rubbing your shoulder.

🩷

Dinner is served just in time for when the boys make it home. Ted is now awake from his nap, being fed by his mother as Tommy strides in walking straight over to her to give her a kiss. “Hey Sugar.”

“Hey Babe.” She utters against his lips.

You quickly stand to go and find Joel, whose by the door taking off his boots.

“Joel” you utter softly.

“Hey Darlin’.” Evident relief in his face upon seeing you after a long day.

“Hope you’re feeling brave.”

“What, why?”

“My water broke.”

“What?”

“My water broke not that long ago.”

“Shit” he jumps up “Do we not need to”-

“No not yet” you cut him off. “Second we need to go to the clinic we’ll go. I just don’t want to be in there for any longer than I need to.”

“Okay Baby, whatever you wana do, you promise me you’re, okay?” he pulls you in for a hug.

“Contractions are about 15 minutes apart roughly me and Maria have been working out. It’s obviously going to be a long labour and they hurt, but I’m fine. Very, very glad to have you home though” you kiss him.

“My gorgeous Baby, I love you.” He utters pulling away briefly before kissing you again even harder. “Still can’t believe you’re makin’ me a daddy again.”

“Well believe it” you whisper. “Come on lets go eat before it gets cold.” You smile as he puts his arm round you as you begin walking back.

“Fuck...” you suddenly whimper. Your whole-body tensing and you seek Joel instantly. Turning your body into him as you moan through the pain.

“You got this girl” he holds you close as you moan through the pain, “just remember to breathe” he coaxes.

When the pain depletes you stand and look him in the eye “They aren’t that bad yet, I’m okay I promise” you smile as he smiles back at you. He places a delicate kiss to your forehead as you close your eyes from the feeling. Opting to wrap his arm back around your waist as you continue walking into the room, you note how worried he seems already.

“Jeez y'look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Tommy jests upon seeing his brother.

“No ghosts, I just told him my water broke!” You announce excitedly.

Instantly Tommy’s face changes, to an expression identical to that of his older brothers. Just as you expected.

“Exactly brother.” Joel laughs. “Now do y’get it.”

“Man, family’s gonna be expandin’ again, can’t wait!” Tommy mutters big smile on his face before he begins eating.

“Me too” You reply happily sitting at the table with the help of Joel.

“Unc Joe, the baby kickeded me today!” Ted announces when Joel takes his seat.

He gasps dramatically “did they now?”

“Uhu” He nods.

Joel chuckles lightly. “I’ll make sure to tell her off” he winks to his nephew who tries to wink back but blinks.

“Hey where’s Ellie?” Joel interrupts the silence not long later.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to notice haha, where d’you think?”.

“Need I ask, they’re obsessed with one another I swear” he shakes his head laughing.

About an hour after Joel makes it home it’s clear it’s time for you to go to the clinic. Contractions now around ten minutes apart, but with your waters already broke you decide rather to be safe than sorry. So, you pack up what you need and make the journey over.

🩷🤍🩷🤍🩷

Two hours after arriving:

“Fuck it hurts Joel!” you moan.

“I know Baby, I know, you just keep going, you’re doing so good.” He pushes on your back as you lean over the bed.

You breathe in and out the way you’d read to in the preparing for childbirth books Joel had found on one of his patrols.

“Good you got this Baby; y’know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I’m just so tired Joel” you whimper letting out a long sad sigh through the pain “why won’t she just come out!”

“She’s coming, I promise she’s coming, just taking her sweet time; wants to make an entrance. Come on you’re her mama after all, she’s gotta at least try t’be as dramatic as you.”

You laugh, Joel actually manages to make you laugh as the pain finally beginning to subside.

“God help us if she’s like me” you jest rolling your eyes.

“Well, I for one hope she’s just like you, would love to have two of you around to keep me company.”

“Yeah, then add Ellie into the mix, you’re gonna have your fuckin’ hands full Miller!” you laugh.

“Can’t wait” he mumbles instantly. And boy does he mean it. His life will be complete once he has his three girls, even if one of them is looking down on him rather than living life with him.

With the pain now completely subsided you stand up straight, leaning back against Joel’s chest as he cuddles you tighter to him with the squeeze of his arm.

You rub a hand over your protruding stomach.

“God I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Me too Baby, me too.” Joel brings his right hand to your stomach and strokes, his left arm still holding your chest to squeeze you ever closer to him.

“She’s our biggest blessin’ ‘sides Ellie, and of course my Sarah, ain’t never been more excited than when she was born, even if I was shitting myself. I can’t wait to do it all again.”

Joel openly talks about Sarah to you now, it took a while, but he always tells you there’s no one he trusts more than you, and you see Sarah as your daughter too now in a way, never having had the pleasure of meeting her, seeing her gorgeous face in person breaks your heart; you keep the picture he has of him and her out on display constantly. But God you know just how much Joel cherished every single second of fatherhood; that girl never wanted for anything. It makes you smile knowing this baby is going to have the world’s greatest dad.

“Me too I can’t wait. Man I can’t believe we’ve finally made it here.” You finally add placing one of your palms over Joel’s knuckles and you both just stand there. Stroking your bump. Embracing the last moments before the bump is gone and the baby is here. A whole new future awaits.

Joel rests his chin on your shoulder, eventually talking softly into your ear. “Shall we get you comfy before it’s time to go again? Or are you okay staying like this Baby?”

“Erm, I think I’ll get back on the bed actually, yeah. If I sit, will you sit with me, hold me? You’re about the only thing keeping me sane right now.” You laugh before you look at him, your beautiful eye gleam that he fell in love with still evident, even though you’ve been doing this for hours.

He smiles “Course. You know I will Darlin.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

He then helps you to climb back onto the clinic bed and with you sitting in a somewhat comfortable position he toes off his boots and climbs to sit behind you, he spreads his legs to make room so you can get yourself comfortable; head resting on his chest, hands stroking your belly. Joel begins to play with your hair, gently tickling your scalp with his fingertips.

It’s silent for a moment. So comfortable.

“Don’t you think it’s crazy that we made her. That she’s a part of us?” you utter softly; content.

“I know it’s the craziest thing, thought the exact same with Sarah, n’when I held her for the first time and her eyes looked up at me it’s like she recognised I was part o’her. And I just couldn’t believe I made her; well partly. That she came from me.”

“She was so lucky to have had a daddy like you.”

“Think you mean, I was lucky to have her. She was absolutely perfect. The love of my life. I’d never known love like it, didn’t know my heart could hurt that much with this need to protect, to love. She was my Babygirl, will always be my first and she was my entire world. Just like you are, and Ellie is andddd” he reaches down to your belly poking it, “this girl is.”

You chuckle lightly.

“What we gonna call her?” You question as it goes silent once more.

“I don’t know Darlin’ you got any ideas?”

You sigh solemnly “None, yet.”

“Well let’s see her face first, I’m sure when we see her it’ll click.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or maybe Ellie could help pick?”

“I love that idea” he chuckles lightly.

“I can’t wait to- ffff - fuck- holy shit- ugh Joel!” you begin to curl into yourself as the pain waves over you.

“Okay Babygirl, you’re okay just breathe, breathe, good girl. I got you; I got you” Joel strokes your cheek with one hand the other hand being squeezed by yours.

“Fuck- Joel it really hurts. Holy Fuck!”

Maria walks in then with Jen the midwife of Jackson following closely behind, placing on a fresh pair of gloves; obviously coming back to check you once more. Maria observes how you’re curled into Joel. Screaming in agony.

“Oh dear!” Maria says softly as she runs to your side grabbing your other hand and letting you squeeze.

“How we doin?” Jen questions.

“It hurts so much, fuck Jen! How have some people here done this like five fuckin’ times… fuckin’ lunatics!”

That raises a laugh from everybody.

“I know honey I know, it’s so worth it though I promise.” Maria adds.

“Hey, look at me sweetie” Jen asks, and you look up at her the pain still ripping through you. “Just remember the breathing exercises I told you about, okay? Big breath in, hold for four, then out.”

You nod before copying her, eyes watering.

“That’s it, goooood, see you know what to do. You’re a fighter mama.” She smiles at you in praise.

It takes a minute or two longer for you to fully recover from the pain. When you finally spread back out alleviating some of the pressure in your back, you look to Maria with a pained smile as Joel continues to caress your belly.

“I can examine you again now if you’d like, see how you’ve progressed?” Jen suggests.

“Yeah, okay please, I just need her out” you whimper.

She nods makes her way over to you after washing her hands thoroughly but quickly, wanting to ensure the examination is over before you’re in pain again, asking you to put your heels to your bottom, legs nice and wide apart. You do so swiftly and take hold of Joel’s hands.

“Just some slight pressure okay just take a breath for me.”

You wince as she checks you. Gripping Joel’s hands in your own tight.

“Okay good eight centimetres look at you go girl! Racing through! Won’t be too much longer now okay.”

“Oh, thank God!” you cry.

“Nearly there!” Maria praises before adding “Oh by the way, I just came back in to let you know Ellie’s right outside, she’s there with Dina.” You follow her finger as she points, looking through the small window in the door and find Ellie and Dina both pacing outside “They’re both refusing to leave. Ellie asked if she could come and see you, I said I’d ask you?” Maria continues.

“Yeah, course she can come in, she doesn’t have to ask!”

Maria nods at you with a smile before she walks back outside of the room and fetches Ellie, you watch through the small door window how Ellie gives Dina a kiss on the lips before parting from her. You shift slightly on Joel’s chest in as much as an effort as you can to look up at him.

“So, they’re an actual thing now- finally?”

He looks down at you a smile on his face as he begins to caress your cheek.

“I don’t know Baby, but they look pretty cosy to me.”

“I hope so, Ellie deserves to be happy. Dina’s so good for her; I think they complete each other”

“She does Darlin’ you’re right. And yeah, I agree Ellie seems much calmer with Dina. If that’s at all possible.” He chuckles before he kisses the top of your head.

With Dina and Ellie parted, she walks in, and comes straight to give you a hug.

“Hey Els, you okay?” You kiss the top of her head before she pulls away shocked.

“Why are you asking if I’m okay? Course I am, you’re getting ready to push an entire human out of” she gestures to between your legs. “How the fuck are you?”

“Well Joel’s a pretty good help. So that’s something, but fuck it hurts.” You half laugh half moan.

You try your best not to swear in front of Ellie but a whole human is about to rip itself from your body and if that doesn’t give you a free pass, well then nothing does…

“You best be helping her out properly Dino? Don’t wana hear no reports that you’ve been slacking on the job” Ellie looks to Joel then, pointing her finger.

“Dino?” he quizzes. “That’s new” he chuckles.

“Yeah, well you know being born during the Mesozoic era kinda comes with the nickname.” She says giving a nonchalant shrug.

You laugh then, but you’re the only one, Joel’s face remains straight, emotionally untouched. There’s no reaction whatsoever. Eventually he urges “Hmmm, remind me to bring that back up later.” face still unreadable, but it’s clear he’s joking around.

“Sure thing old man” she winks.

“Enough with the old, s’like you wana send me to an early grave.” He sniggers lightly the seriousness forgotten.

“Yes sir” she salutes. “And may I just add I do not want to do that, you might be old but you’re gonna live forever, please and thank-you.” She smiles and Joel salutes her back understanding and accepting of her demands, like he’d ever leave his girls!

She reaches for your belly then, slowly, and gently caressing it, as she takes a seat on the stool next to the bed.

“So, how’s my little sister doin?”

“Yeah, she’s good, planned her escape well, just a shame I’m paying the price in the way I am” you sigh.

“She’s doing great, they’re both doing great” Jen adds in from the side lines with a smile looking over her shoulder briefly before focusing back on prepping everything ready in the room.

“Hey anyway,” Ellie begins, cheeky smile on her face as she chuckles lightly “you chose to get in this mess, so you gotta get back out of it. Not that I wana think about how you got in this situation… ew” she grimaces.

“Well, she’s got you there hasn’t she Darlin’?” Joel adds softly.

“Yeah, I know, but hey you can’t say you aren’t happy we chose this” you tap her lightly.

“Definitely, I’m super happy can’t wait!” Ellie almost bursts as she replies.

“Exactly!” you shout back.

You wince as another pain begins to take over. Rather than curling into yourself this time you begin to straighten yourself out, sitting upright in your place on the bed. Allowing your upper body to rock slightly. Joel sits up with you adjusting so he can properly access your shoulders as he begins to rub. You scream as the pain rips through you, Ellie grabs your hand, and you squeeze “ahhh fuck fuck fuck fuck” she’s quick to add.“Sorry!” you manage to moan back through gritted teeth.

You pant and pant as your body feels paralysed from the pain. It seems to go on and on, and it leaves you traumatised. Beads of sweat run down your forehead and your eyes well with more fresh tears.

When it eventually begins to ease you drop back against Joel, completely and utterly exhausted. Finally Letting go of Ellie’s hand.

Joel shushes you as you weep quietly; you take quick deep breaths.

“Fuck Joel, I just want her out!” you cry.

“Soon Babygirl I promise soon.”

You then look at Ellie, “I’m so sorry El, I didn’t meant to hurt you.” That makes you cry even more. You really didn’t mean to squeeze so hard; she didn’t deserve that.

Fuck your spiralling. Everyone knows you had no intention of hurting anyone.

“You didn’t hurt me, just didn’t realise you could grip so hard I was shocked, you’re even more badass than I thought” she responds.

All four of you laugh then.

🩷🤍🩷🤍🩷

2 hours later

Ellie is gone, shooed away when every other word of the sentences you were stringing together became expletives. The pain unbearable and you don’t want Ellie to be witness to you in this state. Maria has gone back home to her beautiful family showing her face for support a few times before you begged for her to go on home to be the mama she deserves to be, rather than having to be witness to this. It’s just you and Joel. So utterly in love. So desperately in need for one another; to be close. Jen close at hand the whole time but it’s just you and Joel, in your love bubble. Nothing else in the world matters but this moment; cherishing your last moments together before the baby comes.

🩷

It’s on the next examination after a particular awful pain that you finally hear what you’ve been longing for “You can push, you’re there!” It’s music to your ears, you let out the biggest sigh of relief, as does Joel.

“Y’hear that Darlin’?” he chuckles excitedly.

“She’s coming” you whisper panting hard.

“She is Baby, she’s comin’!”

“Let me know when you have a pain sweetie and let’s get this show on the road! Soon as that pain hits start pushing into your bum. Don’t want any noise okay you focus all your energy on pushing down, getting this baby out.”

You nod smiling at her slightly still panting.

“It’s coming!” you shout breathing speeding up.

“Okay great sweetie listen to your body and just go with it, push this baby out let’s go!” she encourages.

“C’mon Baby you got this!” Joel screams in encouragement from behind you. Still cradling you the way he has been for hours. His knees are bent as are yours your body fitting into the shape of him. He makes you feel safe, he makes you feel as though you have the energy to keep going even when you’re desperate to quit.

As the pain comes over full throttle you push giving it absolutely everything that you’ve got. It’s silent as you squeeze and squeeze. Face getting redder by the second, but you can feel what’s going on and it keeps you going, pushing till you’re desperate to take a breath.

“Good!” Jen shouts in praise. “Big breath in and go again if you can, let’s get their head out!”

And so, you do “Come on Baby, doing so well m’so proud of you!” Joel encourages gripping his hands over your thighs tighter pushing your knees closer to your chest to help as you push, just as you’d requested.

The second push gets most of the head out and you give once more, not allowing yourself a rest till you know this babies head is free from your body. With one more all mighty, slightly noisy push, you gasp in relief as you feel the head pops out. Your whole body relaxes. You’re panting hard, beads of sweat swimming on your forehead. Joel releases his grip on your thighs in case you decide to move in any way.

“Well done, that was absolutely wonderful!” Jen adds rubbing your knee in praise. “Take some nice deep breaths for me now, wait for the next contraction okay, well done!”

“Can I feel her head?” You question looking into Jen’s eyes your vision blurred as tears threaten release.

“You don’t need to ask, they’re yours course you can” she smiles.

You quickly bring a hand between your legs, gripping your tiny babies head. “Is that hair?”

“Sure is!”

“Oh Joel, you need to feel her and all her hair.” You turn your head to the side as much as possible to try to gain eye contact with him.

He looks down at your sweaty face, the tired replaced with a newfound energy at knowing this is all almost over. “Can I?” he questions you. He’d absolutely love to, but only if you’re certain.

“Yeah” you whisper.

He manoeuvres himself slightly so he can reach over you without shifting you too much, coming to bring his hand to grasp his tiny new babies head.

“Oh” he gasps wetly.

“Doesn’t she feel beautiful” you utter quietly still panting.

“So beautiful” he whispers.

“Oh fuck” you whisper before beginning to pant, “I can feel it coming!” you suddenly shout, the next pain taking hold.

Joel is quick to remove his hand, sitting back in the bed and grabbing your thighs once more, this time your hands join his, willing your legs to be as open as possible to get this baby out promptly.

You push again feeling as the baby much more easily now begins to slide from your body. You quickly gasp between pushes.

“One more big, big push and baby will be here!” and that’s all you need to hear.

You push for a final time screaming the roof down with this one. Your body wills and the baby is out. And then it’s all over. Your body heaves, so relieved, so drained, so excited.

You’re quick to release your thighs along with Joel and you sit up, him following resting his chin on your shoulder as Jen hands you your screaming baby. You cradle them against your chest as they squirm and scream at their first look of their new world.

“Oh, she’s here, she’s here!” you cry. As Jen grabs a towel wiping the baby over as you hold them close.

“M’so proud of you” Joel mutters quietly allowing himself to release the tears he’d been holding.

“Oh, I know shhh” you hold them close to you willing the cry’s to settle down which they do quickly. “Good, shhhh there you go.” You move the baby to be cradled in your arms then; tiny body and face squishing into you as they’re already on a mission to try to find food.

“Guess we should confirm it’s definitely a girl huh?” Joel practically whispers.

You chuckle wetly slowly moving one of the cute bundles legs so you can check. Going into a fit of giggles with that you see.

“Well would y’look at that” Joel chuckles lightly. “Another daughter. How lucky am I!”

“My beautiful baby girl” you whisper to her crying.

“Daddy do you wana cut the cord?” Jen questions after a few minutes.

“Sure.” He quicks takes the scissors from her, and the cord is cut, she’s separate now, her own person.

“Lemme move Baby so you can lie down with her, okay?” You nod as he moves from behind you slowly on the bed helping you to lie back against the pillows. He stands at your side, cooing over his brand-new healthy, pink, content flesh and blood. His smile so wide it hurts.

“We’re just waiting on the placenta okay sweetie, I’m just gonna push on your belly a little, okay?” Jen asks but you’re not paying that much attention, besotted with your new daughter.

“Okay” you nod, wincing at first touch, jumping slightly from the pressure. “Jen wait a sec” and she stops instantly.

“You, okay?” she’s quick to ask.

“Yeah just” you turn to look at Joel. “Will you cuddle her daddy? Whilst we do this I just don’t wana hurt her if I flinch or something.”

“Music to my ears Baby, gimme my daughter, we need some daddy daughter time.” He grabs her gently ensuring she’s still wrapped in the blanket shushing her as she groans; but not before taking off his shirt so he can have some skin to skin contact with her, opting to grab another blanket to further wrap her as he holds her close.

He sits just for a moment with his newborn daughter as she looks to him, and he looks down on her studying the features of her father. It doesn’t take long for her to begin smacking her lips together, desperately needing food. Thankfully, the placenta has now been delivered and so Joel is quick to return his daughter to your chest once Jen has propped you up better with the pillows so nursing will be comfortable.

As soon as you take your daughter back from him, he’s there at hand to help you to ease your daughter into feeding at the breast. No help is needed from Jen as the child latches almost instantly. Guzzling away once a steady flow is being released. It isn’t without winces from you which keep making Joel jump, but you assure him it’s all because it’s new, you’re not in pain just in shock. You’ve grown and birthed an entire human. A human you’re now responsible for. And god she is gorgeous.

She’s out cold after a feed, lying against your chest snoring softly, you and Joel both can’t keep your hands off her.

Joel hears you sniffling softly, and it suddenly dawns on him that you’re crying.

“S’wrong baby? You in pain?” you can hear just how worried he is.

“No, no I just- hiccup- I just am so in love with her, and it’s making me cry and I can’t stop.”

He shushes you gently, kissing your temple “I know Baby she’s so beautiful. You did it! You did it so well, brought her safely into this world!”

“I can’t believe it’s over, after everything we went through.”

“It’s not over Baby, this chapter might be, but we have so much now that’s only just starting. The beginning of so so much!”

“I know, I just I’m so happy and so excited… where’s Ellie, I miss her, and I want her to meet her sister?”

“Jen went to get her. I said don’t bother going to Tommy’s she will be with Dina” he chuckles lightly.

“Haha yep one thing about that girl is, she’s so predictable” you laugh back wetly.

🩷

Its about twenty minutes later that Ellie is back, ecstatic at the prospect of meeting her sibling.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe that they’re actually here!” she exclaims as she first enters the room. She runs straight to your bedside admiring her sleeping sibling.

“Ellie, meet your sister” you utter softly.

“Sister? Damn you guys were actually right all along. Haha that’s brilliant. Oh, by the way I brought her this”, she offers over a blue t-rex stuffed toy. “Gotta make sure she’s as educated as me, start her early.”

“What she’s out of the womb maybe three hours and she’s already due a lesson?” Joel remarks.

“Hey, you can never start them too early!”

You chuckle.

“You wana hold her?” you question kissing your daughters head when she stirs slightly.

“Erm, I- I mean yeah I do, but I’m a bit out of practice with holding a baby.” She utters slightly embarrassed “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I don’t wana drop her.”

“Trust me it’s second nature. Y’wont drop her.” Joel utters standing to allow Ellie to sit in his chair and he then begins to carefully pick your daughter up, shushing her gently when she grunts. She settles fast in her daddy’s arms. He bends slowly to lower his daughter into his older daughters hands. Releasing her only when he sees Ellies confidence shine through, and she settles into the comfortable feeling of having a baby in her arms.

Joel takes a step back coming to sit on the edge of the bed holding your hand as you both watch the sisters bond with one another. Eventually she opens her eyes and stares curiously at her big sister, Ellie brushes one of her fingers over her sisters eyebrows and smiles softly.

You stay like this for a while, content, happy, complete.

“So, what’s her name?” Ellie questions quietly.

“Well, this is the thing” Joel utters and Ellie looks to him curiously.

You add “we thought maybe you’d like to name her?”

“Me?” she’s shocked.

“Well why not?” Joel adds.

“Because I -I mean, seriously? You actually mean that?”

“We actually do” you nod.

“Well, there was actually a name that came to me the second I saw her, but I presumed you’d already have one picked out, so I didn’t say anything.”

“N’what name was that?” Joel quizzes

“To be fair it would fit for a boy too… so maybe I’d have thought it if it was a boy?” it’s clear she’s nervous to say.

“Just spit it out” Joel chuckles.

“Frankie” She announces “I think Frankie Miller sounds perfect.”

“Frankie” Joel whispers.

“Oh, Ellie, I love it.” You mumble trying to hold back tears “so beautiful.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. Well, there we go then! - Frankie Miller, welcome to the world!” she coos down at her sister whose eyes beam up at her. You and Joel are still transfixed on watching the two sisters bond.

“Welcome to the world Frankie baby” you whisper.

“Happy birthday Babygirl” Joel utters smiling.

#joel miller #the last of us #maria the last of us #pregnancy #sarah miller #angst #fluff and smut #tommy miller #after outbreak #Oh baby #Part three #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic

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angelsanarchy · 6 months

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Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 17

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Oystein had finally settled into his new apartment and had just gotten off the phone with his dad about the last payment for the record shop. He had decided to step away from focusing on making the next record to follow another one of his passions. Helvete was his new baby and his record label would be working out of the shop to expand the Black Metal genre to as many people as he possibly could.

He sat at his typewriter and placed the photo Y/n had left him with the day they last spoke on the desk to the left. He kept the old photo of himself, Y/n and Pelle just next to that one. The day she slugged him and wrote him off, she probably would have been surprised to know that he kept that photo in the inside pocket of his jacket.

He stared at the photo for a few moments before putting a piece of paper into the type writer.

"Y/n, Please read what I have to say before you toss this into the garbage. I know it's selfish of me to ask for anymore of your time but you have to know that what we had, in the beginning, that was real. All of the moments we shared where I could be myself with you- if I could have lived in those moments again, I wouldn't change a thing. You were right though, we were always doomed to fail. Our paths are just too different. I want to apologize for how I treated you the night you came to the show. I know the first time I watched Dea-"

Oystein pulls a bit of white out from the drawer and covers the beginning of his name before resuming.

"I know the first time I watched Pelle cut his arms, it was fucked up. I had no idea what to do or how to respond to that. Honestly, I've never really experienced anything like that before Pelle. I knew I couldn't let him know that because I feared it would only make him retreat more. Your response to it was normal and I'm sorry I treated you like it wasn't. I also want to apologize for how I reacted to you in the bar that night. I can't pretend I wasn't caught off guard by the guy you walked in with but that is no excuse for how I came at you. In the time that I spent not hearing your voice or seeing your face, I tried to block out all the things you made me feel. I tried to chalk it up to us being too different or this life scaring you away but that day after Pelle killed himself...I know I fucked up Y/n. I regret everything I've ever said or done that has hurt you even for a second because the only hurt you ever caused me was my own fault."

Oystein sat back in the chair, reading over what he had already written and felt incredibly vulnerable. A part of him really hopes she just trashes the letter and doesn't even bother reading it.

"I've decided to take a step back to focus more on other passions. I have started my own record label and will be operating it out of that corner shop down from Hammed's shop. I know you probably think I've done this to torment you but I've had my eye on that store for years. I want to take the creation of Black Metal and show people what it can truly be. Not all that extra, commercialized bullshit that people think it is now. I've always wanted to do this but I want to show people what we worked so hard on, what Pelle and I worked so hard on."

Oystein looked at the photo again and wished Pelle could have been here for the birth of Helvete. He thinks that a safe haven where he would never be alone is something that could have saved him.

"I know I'm just saying a lot of things that don't really mean shit to you but you were a big part of what kept me believing in myself. I hope maybe you'll give it a second chance and stop by the shop. I would love for you to see what I've created and give you a new look at what I love so much instead of wishing for its demise. I know it will never be what it was before but I feel a piece of me will always be tethered to wanting what could have been between us."

Oystein hated everything he wrote almost immediately but he couldn't just keep starting over. He wanted to send this letter before the shop actually opened in case she decided to show up and put him on blast.

"I know you'll probably always hate me and I understand why you do. I just hope you'll find a small place for me in your heart to at least try and be a better person in your eyes. Please, give me a chance to prove to you that I'm not the heartless monster you think I am."

He read it one last time before pulling it from the typewriter and signing the bottom of it. He would never admit that he actually followed her home one night just to have her address to send her this letter. He would take that to the grave. He knew this was a bad idea but he desperately needed something to keep him grounded. The nightmares he had after Pelle were unbearable. He had never been afraid of dwelling in the darkness until Pelle killed himself. Now he was worried he would sink into the darkness never to be found again. He wanted Y/n to be the one who kept him from losing himself entirely.

yours, Øystein

#R!Euronymous #R!Euronymous x Y/n #Film: Lords of Chaos #Alkaline #Alkaline Series #One Shot Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #this one is short but y/n gets her fire back in the next one #17/35

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episodeoftv · 5 months

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Prelims, Vote 8 of 8

The top 5 finales will move on to be included in the main bracket

Propaganda is under the cut, may include spoilers

Brooklyn Nine-Nine - 8.09 / 8.10 The Last Day

It just... season 8 had been so bad as a whole, it attempted to touch on the blm movement and did it in an okay at best way and in the wake of it all, i think a lot of people just weren't here for cop shows. The finale tried to bring the magic back with one last heist and it did pull out all the stops but I don't know, it just left me feeling really cold. And the ending being that even though the main character wasn't a cop anymore, that he would return to the station every year for the heist... it just never escapes the cop narrative even after he's left.

Chén Qíng Lìng/The Untamed - Episode 50

I nominate this final on grounds of CCP information control, censorship and homophobia. They were so scared of the power of wangxian that they ended up banning ao3 in china and in the show they have to inexplicably have them part ways just to hammer home the no-homo. Plus the show is just kind of objectively bad.... but it rewires your brain all the same

Community - 6.13 Emotional Consequences of Broadcast Television

ok i haven’t watched it in a while but it wasn’t the episode’s fault this show had been going downhill for a while. The finale put it out of its misery mostly.

Kyle XY - 3.10 Bringing Down the House

The writers knew they were getting canceled and chose to raise more questions than answers and set up cliffhangers, rather than have a satisfying end. I'm sure it was a last ditch effort to save the show, but it didn't work and now it's just a bad finale.

Northern Exposure - 6.22 Let's Dance / 6.23 Tranquility Base

No propaganda submitted

Ozark - 4.14 A Hard Way to Go

No propaganda submitted

Soul Eater - 1.51 The Word Is Bravery!

ugh god it just gave up on any attempt at character development or the ending of the story in any meaningful way. instead of a complex universe journey exploring her bond with soul, and death the kid becoming the new god of death, maka just...wins the day by 'being brave', extremely underwhelming and borderline nonsensical

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 7.25 / 7.26 What You Leave Behind

Man so okay like it’s not the worst worst one out there but man they really just fuckikg did that. Found family all went and spread themselves across the quadrant with the head of the show the leader, Captain Benjamin Sisko who really just wanted to live on Bajor, got turned into an incorporeal being who could no longer live a linear life while his wife and unborn child had to go on without him. They didn’t even have him saying goodbye to his actual son. His literal son did not get a goodbye, they only gave that to Kasidy, and no hate to Kasidy, she’s my girl, but she’s only been there for three year while his actual son Jake sisko was still basically a kid. He was like 19, 20 and no goodbye fork his dad he’s lost time and time again. Some characters got a satisfying ending but then Julian Bashir is left to stay on deep space nine supposedly still in love with Ezri Dax and together (but let’s be honest, it was a terrible forced decision. They made no sense, and had no chemistry) and still stuck without moving forward or changing. Like what a cop out. Not to mention the terrible cgi fire caves where literally gods got thrown into a fire pit and that was the big climax

#prelim #wfprelim #wfpoll #poll #polls #brooklyn nine nine #the untamed #chen qing ling #community #kyle xy #northern exposure #ozark #soul eater #star trek #star trek deep space nine #ok glad people are saying the untamed was good bc I only watched like ten minutes of it so idk but I really did think you guys liked it.#good to see I’m not fully in a bubble.

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ladybirdswritings · 7 months

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BEAUTY AND THE HYBRID - Klaus Mikaelson Fanfiction

summary: a slip of burlap rope brings an unsuspecting woman to a bloodthirsty hybrid.

warnings: mentions of ab*se, stockholm syndrome, captivity, dea*h, and violence.

next chapter <3 | a03 | tag list

three

Painful throbbing, burning at my skull. It's warm, wet. The light filters through beige burlap weakly, making me squint. I try to sit up, but my body betrays me with its weakness.

"Apple please."

Soft hands shake me, a distant whisper echoing through my ringing ears.

"Birdie." My voice fails me, and my words are merely mouthed.

"I'm here, please get up."

She sounds so scared, but I can't remember why. Not now. The same soft hands gently pull at me, guiding me upright. This new position makes me yelp, pounding- drumming viciously at my skull in punishment for the shift. Blood rushes, making me dizzy. My body slumps backward, the floor is bumpy.

Small fingertips tug at the burlap till its ridded of. The light is unwelcome, I squint- eyes flooding with tears from the pain.

"Holy shit."

Birdie.

She has maneuvered her way onto her knees. Her brunette eyes are wide, urgent. Her palms, tied together alongside her ankles, press against the spot where my skull pounds most. When she pulls them back to analyze- they are stained crimson.

I wince.

She looks around urgently, but it seems as though there is nothing that satisfies her to help.

A van, we're in a van.

We hit a bump and it makes her fall back to the floor.

My gaze shifts toward the burlap sack once blinding me, it's all red. It's blood... my blood. I feel a drop of it fall down my temple.

Birdie struggles for a moment but manages to sit upright. As horrible as this situation looks, I cannot understand it. Not until Birdie speaks again.

"The case. Apple... they got the case."

I don't understand it at first. Birdie sees that when I furrow my brows... but it seems as though in an instant, it all floods back to me. The diner, The waitress, the case, the killers, and for some odd reason? The man with the piercing blue eyes.

Holy fuck. Holy. Fuck.

I can't stop it, I shake my bruised and bloodied head as my lips swell far too quickly for me to halt. They tremble, and my skull pounds harder as my tears begin to fall.

"Oh my god, oh my god..."

This is all my fault. We, my Birdie and stupid I, are trapped in a white van with vicious murderers all because of some mysterious case I had so I could afford Joel's meds.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Apple, hey its okay."

"Birdie did they hurt you? Tell me they didn't, oh my god..."

Her jaw is tense, she shakes her head immediately.

"No, they didn't I swear. They just bonked you. Really fuckin' hard.

I slump in relief. A very small amount of it.

My eyes close, images horrifying and unwelcome flooding my scattered mind. I breathe deep, the smell of my own blood nauseating me instantly. Still, I think of mom... I think of how she would handle this.

I center soon. Not because I am strong, but because in front of me is Birdie. My eyes open again.

"Okay. Okay, Birdie. We're okay, I'm gonna get us out of here, alright?"

She doesn't believe me, I can see it in those frightened eyes. If I believed in a force above, I would pray right now, beg him for all the answers I need. All I can think of is mom, and Joel.

Fuck. Joel.

His meds are in my purse, and he's just missed them. He's alone, he's worried.

The man isn't my biological father, he is Birdie's... but it never made him feel like any less of a dad to me... even if it was just one-sided.

But now? I've gone and fucked it all up, thinking I was going to save him. My tears threaten to poke at my gaze again but I stifle them, wincing as another droplet of blood travels down my sunken face. Down my cheekbone and jaw, dripping from my chin. My eyes watch as it falls, staining the lump in my pocket.

Birdie's gift...

Wait...

Birdie's gift!

"Birdie, listen... I need you to help me alright? Reach in my pocket and pull out the box."

She nods, doing so immediately with much struggle. Still? By some miracle she manages, even while bound by the burlap round her wrists. I instruct her to bring it to my teeth and I tug on the ribbon with them, using my nose to push the cover off.

"Holy shit, is this my gift?"

I smile sadly, "Happy birthday, Birdie."

She smiles back just the same. Birdie places the box in my lap and pulls the oak wood pocket knife with the engraving of a lightning bug upon it out from its olive box with cream ribbon. She shakily hands it to me just in time, just before another bump in the road sends her back on her bum.

My hands are weak, weak enough that it nearly makes me drop the gift from my grasp. One look at Birdie bound and it's enough to allow a shot of adrenaline to course through me. I meet my sister's suspicious eyes.

"Apple, it's a dull knife. We'll still be cutting by the time these assholes grab us again."

I shake my head at her,

"Birdie... the rope. It's burlap. Remember what Joel taught us in Haddonfield?"

A surge of remembrance and hope overtakes her gaze as she nods eagerly. Joel's voice echoes in my head.

"One cut, twist, pull, slam."

"I just need one good cut."

The knife is dull, very dull... but I am patient. I scrape the blade against the frayed burlap once, twice, thrice. No avail. Birdie frowns, knee bouncing as I repeat the same process four more times. The van is slowing now, just a bit. We gulp in unison.

"Try angling it more." She whispers, I nod.

Once, twice, thrice.

It's cut.

We both laugh in gratefulness and exasperation, and I glance upward to whatever imaginary or otherwise force looms above.

Please let this work.

Birdie and I speak and unison.

"One cut. Twist... pull... slam!"

I bring the burlap down on my knee in a quick motion and by some incredible grace? It snaps in two. We laugh again.

"Fuck yeah dude. Hurry!"

I create quick friction as I drag the blade back and forth upon the burlap on my ankles, once it's halfway split- I push both of my feet in opposite directions and the rope snaps again. My luck is slowly resurfacing.

I cannot control the hopeful tears that flood my eyes, I sniffle and wipe at them as I crawl to Birdie and begin working on the rope.

"Wait! Check the doors first."

She's right, we need to escape quick. Everything aches within me as I manage to drag myself to the metal doors at the very back of the van where we are caged. My luck once again dances in a joyous victory.

"It locks from the inside, bird."

She sighs in relief as I click the lock open.

"Some shitty kidnappers, huh?"

I smile at her humor, only to make her feel at ease but in actuality? I wasn't listening, only rushing back on all fours to keep cutting at the burlap rope. I make quick work of the wrists, as does she at breaking free. She flexes her fingertips happily.

"Just one more to go..." I whisper, cutting quickly at the burlap round her ankles.

"Okay bird, hard as you can, kick one foot out and one foot in." She nods, but god- she's small. Strong, but small. It doesn't work. Fear bites at the skin between her brows with a wrinkle.

"It's okay, its okay... again."

She tries harder this time, but the rope remains in tact. The van goes slower now.

"Fuck. Just go, Apple. Go!"

More tears flood me, fearful ones now. I grip her chin between by index and thumb, forcing her to look at my eyes. My voice is guttural.

"Hey. No, mm mm. I'm not leaving here without you, do you understand me? One more time, come on Birdie. Harder!"

She tries again, but nothing.

"Fuck!" I cry, sliding the blade back and forth upon the rope as quick as I can, as urgent as I can. Both of our eyes are wide, and even wider when we hear the doorknob to the front cab turn.

I drop the knife, not bothering with the stupid fucking thing any longer and I tug hard as I can on the rope, cutting up my palms red and splintered in the process.

We don't have time.

"Nonononono please, please god." I whisper.

The door opens.

"Hmm, maybe next time you start to play with my locks- you'll think about who's in control of them." The man, jet black hair and suited towers over us.

I push Birdie to the corner and grasp the knife in my unstable, sliced palms.

"Hey, get the fuck back!" I spit, but it only makes the man smirk.

"Oh how sweet and incredibly stupid of you. What a brave sister."

I yelp as he makes quick work of bending my wrist back in a direction it wasn't crafted to be in. The knife falls, clattering against the floor as the van speeds up again. Quickly, urgently for some reason.

"He's on us, El!"

"Then faster, you imbecile!"

My wrist is still bent, but the pain becomes white noise when I gaze up at the man for the first time since the diner.

I chill, immediately.

"You've been enough trouble... Stupidly so, you've made me hungry from all the work you've been."

Horrible, gray veins protrude from under reddened eyes. Sharp teeth emerging from that once perfect smile. Stalking me, prey.

My god.

He's a monster.

I shrink, hoping Birdie is smart enough to just close her eyes. She isn't.

"Die, motherfucker!"

She sticks him in the side with the pocket knife, yet I know my sister. She knows it isn't enough.

"Birdie!"

She ignores my cry, desperate and brave she is, pushing my body back with so much force I didn't know she could harness. I fall through the doors, the pavement greeting me harshly, slamming against me as my body rolls amongst it from the speed the van once travelled.

Birdie doesn't follow.

The same spot that throbs slams against cold road seven more times, till my vision is blurred and the concrete is flooded red. All of it hurts, all at once, so much so that I cannot pinpoint the pain anymore- only my exhaustion. I stop, eventually.

The sun mocks my unwilling eyes, meshing the clouds together to a mess of gray. A storm looming. My body betrays me once more, I can't bare to keep my eyes open any longer. I fight it still, weak, soft blinks before they fall shut.

I am fighting.

Birdie.

Voices. Distant but somehow close.

"My god."

Stiletto steps near me quickly, two fingers as icy as the palms upon me earlier press themselves against my neck. It's a woman, now. Another golden blonde, I think.

I part my lips, I can't speak. I can't cry out.

"It's miraculous Nik, for a human. She has a pulse. How on god's green earth did she survive that?"

Birdie. It's because of Birdie.

Boots near me upon the same pavement that bloodied me.

"Must be a miracle, Rebekah. Gather her, we need to regroup."

The fallen angel, the honey, that voice.

I'm exhausted. I can't listen any longer.

The voices are distant again, I am at peace.

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kazperthegh0st · 3 months

Text

Hi. Im writing my fanfiction on here because writing a oneshot takes more than a month and i dont want to open google docs. (Will be on Ao3 when complete).

Summary: Sokka/Zuko where they want to go on a nice, relaxing vacation but Azula just got out of the mental hospital (again) and Zuko cant leave her by herself so Katara is paid to babysit her. (Modern Setting AU). Azula/Katara.

Ill reblog with updates as time goes on.

Actual fanfic begins here:

Zuko has no idea where Azula got the baseball bat. Thats his first concern. The second is this: What the hell happened to her hair?

“Hello, Zuzu,”she greeted. Then she pushed past him.

She showed up at his door at 4 in the morning with a red duffel bag over her shoulder and a black metal baseball bat with lightning decals in her left hand.

Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun. But her bangs. They were completely crooked and angled and an utter mess.

She had bright red headphones around her neck and Zuko could her some shitty metal music playing.

And all Zuko could think was what the fuck.

Azula collapsed onto his couch, dropping her belongings on the coffee table, propping her feet up on the armrest, and securing her headphones over her ears. She closed her eyes.

Zuko closed the door and took a deep breath.

“Hello, Azula. Why are you here? In my house. With me. Instead of… an insane asylum,” he questioned.

She didn’t respond, only nodded her head to the music filling her ears.

He poked her.

Her eyes opened and she glared at him.

“‘Relaxation is the key to a swift recovery’, Zuzu” she told him. He hated that she was quoting Iroh.

She removed her headphones.

“Do you need something?” She questioned.

“Why are you in my apartment, Azula?”

“Did you think i was going to sleep under a bridge like a homeless person? How pathetic do you think i am?” She rolled her eyes.

“Why aren’t you with Mai? Or Iroh? Or Ty lee, even?”

“Mai kicked me out. Ty lee wouldn’t answer her phone—probably on some stupid anti technology shtick because its ‘aura is off’. And Iroh gave me your address and said i was your problem until he got back from Japan. ‘Familial bonding or whatever’.”

“Iroh sent you?” Zuko felt betrayed.

“Yes, Zuzu.”

“Hes not coming back for another month.”

“Guess im your problem for another month, then”

“I have plans, college, a life, Azula! I cant have you living here! Im leaving for my own vacation in a week!”

“You dont want me in your life, Zuzu? Thats cruel. I thought you were the good sibling. Guess I was wrong for once.”

Zuko stalked off into his kitchen. His house was being corrupted by his evil sister because he couldn’t find it in himself to throw her out.

He couldn’t take it out on Iroh. His uncle worked so hard and needed this break.

He couldn’t take it out on his dad. That evil man was in a prison cell on the other side of the country.

He couldn’t take it out on Azula. It wasn’t really her fault she was the way she was. It was their dad’s fault for traumatizing his kids.

Azula was just as much of a victim as he was.

More will be added later and will eventually end up on Ao3.

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stillfrownyclownlol · 5 months

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Aiden BPD headcanonsssss because my dad is being weird and I feel weird too

(Most of these are based on my experiences living with somebody who has bpd, and maybe myself but we won't talk about that haha)

Tw for all the things bpd tends to cover (self harm, abuse, substance abuse, and suicidal ideation, brief mention of cannabis in a medical context)

-definitely a big source of trauma is his parents basically abandoning him for long stretches of time

-Prone to splitting regarding them. When they're not around its so much easier to be like "Whatever, fuck them, I don't care." But when they *are* around, they're always so affectionate, a lot of "it's not their fault they're busy", "they don't mean it", kind of thoughts...it's okay Aiden, people can still love you even if they treat you badly :/

-y'all know he's self destructive. Yall KNOW. He's been in 7 different go-kart "accidents", once broke his hip trying to impersonate Tony Hawk, and he WILL be crashing his car into a tree after binge drinking.

-Self harms as a form of stimulation sometimes. He just gets SO bored. Usually will slam his head on the nearest hard object or cut himself with his compass.

-has been to a "wellness center" (mental hospital) after an episode where when his parents were on a trip, they returned and found him catatonic on his bed, he hadn't gotten up for almost 8 weeks and his mattress was stained with urine. Not to mention he'd gotten extremely sick after eating only Ramen. Called this a "blip" and hasn't done anything like this again, but only cuz he hated the hospital so much :/

-not really good at managing his anger. He gets pissed off easily (his jaw starts clenching), but has definitely eased off with the yelling and picking a fight with the person. May say some things he may or may not regret later :/ might like kick the wall or smth too-

-his feelings of emptiness and boredom get really exacerbated when he tries to sleep, so he just doesn't sleep until he passes out from exhaustion.

-extremely rare, but if he cries its almost never the appropriate time.

-his favorite person (and I mean this in the bpd way not just the usual way) was Ben, now it's Ashlyn. She asks Ben for advice sometimes on how to understand him better. Is trying to get better, but he just wants all of her attention all the time. He could make a soliloquy of all the things he loves about her. She's the one who pushed him to go back to therapy and told him "hey, I think you have somethinh"

-Weirdly protective but in a hands off way?? Even tho he really doesn't handle himself well? He knows his friends can take care of themselves but it doesn't stop him from running through the worst case scenario. Freaks out if people are late, especially if they're punctual. Also really defensive of them, they do no wrong in his eyes (except when they do :/)

-used to push people away to avoid disappointment or abandonment, especially because they needed to move so much. All his relationships were very superficial. Ghosted people a lot.

-Has chronic pain as an adult because of all the injuries he suffered through as a kid, not to mention his shitty posture. He takes painkillers, but they leave him zoned out and with even worse insomnia so he doesn't take them a lot. Sometimes uses medicinal weed if the pain is really bad. Ash tries to help by rubbing his back, though she says she's not that useful. He always feels better afterwards tho ❤️

-Smokes if he is really stressed, but he's ashamed about it and tries not to do it too much. Picked it up after stealing some of his mom's cigarettes when he was younger.

-his inner voice is extremely negative and he is generally under the impression that everybody hates him. Tries to act like this doesn't bother him and acts like a nuisance because if everybody hates him why even bother filtering his thoughts or actions?

-why were you even born? Who'd love a screw up like you? Your own parents didn't even want you.

-rejection sensitivity and gets really depressed if he's upset one of his friends. Will usually self harm to cope because he think lashing out will make things worse and he just doesn't know what else to do.

-he loves deeply and he's fiercely loyal. He's good with children. He's a wonderful artist. And he is so very incredibly kind. His bpd does not define him as a person.

I don't know if anybody needs to hear this, but, having BPD is not a death sentence. You're not doomed to be a bad person or an abuser, and I say this as somebody who was abused by someone with BPD (my own father). People with BPD are scared, they are struggling, and most of all, they're tired. If you or somebody you care about thinks they're have bpd, try to contact a doctor or specialist and seek professional help.

I'm gonna go cry in the shower now :)

#back with another round of: guess what my dad did!#bonus points if you figure out what *i* did #sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard #aiden clark #headcanons #ashlyn banner #aidlyn #tw abuse #tw self h@rm #tw substance abuse #is weed still like #controversial in the us?#i have no idea #tw self harm

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maccreadysbaby · 2 months

Text

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

sorry about how short these are, I’m getting back in the groove! bentley is straight up diving back into his old life yall. he said peace out. he’ll be back once they win 😗✌️

part eighteen

❝ HAIL THE PUPPETEER ❞

SUNDAY — AUGUST 9 — 9:07AM

WHEN BENTLEY WOKE UP AT NINE, ASTEN WAS BESIDE HIM AGAIN, AND SOMEONE WAS CRYING. The sun was shining dimly through the curtains, illuminating the room with a soft light. Asten was laying in a lump next to him, his entire body covered by the gray comforter except his blue-tipped hair and one arm that was sticking out toward Bentley. Their earlier research had gone basically nowhere — the only thing the dozens of missing persons cases had provided them with was nightmare fuel. Asten had put as much information as he could on the spreadsheet and the three of them had stared at it for what felt like hours. They got nowhere.

The soft, muted crying was coming from the foot of the bed. Bentley, blinking the fatigue and weariness out of his eyes, peered down at Nico as much as he dared without alerting him. He couldn’t see much in the dim light, but Nico was still laying on his back, and it looked like he was holding a piece of paper in his hands. A ratty, old looking piece of paper.

The letter.

Bentley said nothing, his mind seemingly caving in on itself as he registered that, yes, his dream was real, yes, Nico was from a different timestream-reality-universe-dimension-world, and that, yes, there were places somewhere out there that they couldn’t see. And the thing, according to the letter, that seemed to connect these things together, that could travel from one to another, was… Barry.

Of course, Bentley had no earthly idea who — or what — Barry was. Something, someone that could move through the fabric of reality at will.

He wondered how hard this was on Nico. Probably really hard. He’d learned that his whole life — his parents, his birth — was a lie, that he wasn’t even living in the same reality that he was born in. Not to mention the Secret Keeper’s endless torment. Bentley thought he had it hard, with school, the Secret Keeper, Damian, his dad… but at least his entire identity hadn’t been turned on its head. At least he… y’know. Knew his real name.

He breathed in and out deeply. “Nico?”

He felt his friend jump, and the paper was swiftly tucked into the pocket of his hoodie with a sniff. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry,”

Very subtle, Bentley. He mentally scolded himself, shuffling around on the mattress. “That… that you’re… so scared. That she chased you. I’m… sorry for all of it.”

A good save? Maybe mediocre.

“It’s not your fault,” He replied, as though the Secret Keeper was exactly what he’d been crying about even though they both knew it wasn’t. “I just hope all of it will be over soon.”

Bentley said nothing, but took to examining the ceiling. It was only reasonable to believe that, if he was seeing their memories, they could’ve been seeing his, too. They could’ve all been learning the worst about each other's lives without anyone else knowing.

That’s one way to bond, his brain oh-so helpfully supplied.

“Me, too,” Bentley sighed, brushing a hand through his red hair.

“Me, three,”

He and Nico both glanced over at Asten, who pulled the blanket off of his head, leaving his black and blue hair in a big fuzz. His green eyes were dull and tired. “Everything pretty much sucks.”

Bentley sighed, pushing himself upright in the bed, and Nico stayed sprawled across the foot, staring upwards. They didn’t speak for a solid ten minutes. After a while, Asten reached over and grabbed the laptop, opening it up and scanning the spreadsheet over and over like the same words he’d been reading for hours would magically rearrange and give him the answer.

Bentley chose not to dwell on the universe-dimension mumbo-jumbo and decided to focus on the task at hand — finding the Secret Keeper’s boss.

But before he could do anything, there was a knock on the door.

Asten shut the computer and put it back on the nightstand, and with a quick glance between him and Nico, Bentley said: “You can come in.”

The door opened just a crack, and Bruce’s head popped through it. His gray eyes flicked between the trio of boys. Bentley caught how his irises lingered for the slightest of seconds on Nico’s tear-stained face, but he moved on, saying nothing of it. “Good morning, boys. I was just coming to let you know Jason made some breakfast casserole, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Bentley felt eyes on him. Both Nico and Asten were glancing at him, and Bruce’s eyes were on him, too, something shining in them.

“Uh, yeah, we…” He started, bringing his hand up to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Why was he always the one to make decisions in front of everybody? And why was Bruce staring at him like that? “Might come down… soon…”

“Bentley? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

With a sigh of defeat, the ten-year-old pulled himself out from under the covers and carried himself across his room, lowering his head as though he were doing a walk of shame. Bruce opened the door wider when he approached, and they both stepped into the hall. The door clicked behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

Bentley huffed heavily. He hated how easily Bruce could see straight through him, how he could read him like a book. He hadn’t been able to do that before — read him like that. Bentley had fooled the whole family for months back when he was trying to do his father’s will. What had changed? Why could Bruce sense the tiniest of changes now?

Bentley exhaled. How could he be so exhausted when he’d just woken up?

“I had another dream. About Nico, this time,” He whispered.

He saw Bruce nod in his peripheral vision. “And your head?”

“Hurts,” He shrugged lightly. “Not as bad as in the car, I guess. Is this going to keep happening to me?”

Bruce sighed heavily, and before Bentley could as much as look up at him, he was tugged into a gentle embrace. “We’re all going to get through this. Your friends, too.”

Bentley said nothing, but brought his arms up and around Bruce in return, resting his forehead against his shirt. “How? She doesn’t even have to see us and she can hurt us.”

“I don’t know. But we will. I promise,” He replied.

Bentley flinched when a door closed behind them. He let go of Bruce and turned, meeting the stark greenish-blue eyes of Damian, staring at him from his own bedroom door. He must’ve come home earlier that morning from the Kent’s, for reasons Bentley didn’t know.

The young assassin’s eyes flicked between him and Bruce for a few seconds, before the faintest beginnings of a scowl darkened his features. “Hello, father.”

Then he walked straight past them, toward the stairs, without acknowledging Bentley’s existence in the slightest. He followed the assassin with his eyes, watching him disappear down the hallway until he faded from Bentley’s view.

He so very desperately wanted to prove himself to him.

“Everything okay, Bentley?”

He glanced back up at Bruce, who was staring at him expectantly.

“Yeah, just…” He started, averting his eyes and rubbing at them to make it less telling of a lie. “Just… everything kinda sucks, y’know?” He questioned, echoing Asten’s statement from earlier. “I just wish it would stop.”

Bruce sighed again, and Bentley flinched lightly when his hand came to rest on the side of his head. Then, with a look of determination Bentley could only describe as reminiscent of Batman, Bruce replied: “It will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bentley nodded sheepishly, and Bruce ran a hand over the top of his head. “You guys can come down when you’re ready. No rush.”

He nodded, again, and then ventured back into his room without Bruce. Both Asten and Nico glanced up at him when he came in, and Asten had the most triumphant look on his face that Bentley had ever seen in his life. Nico was still at the foot of the bed, looking rather miffed. Their expressions opposed one another almost comically.

“I’m the most brilliant genius in the world,” He chimed. The computer was open in his lap again, shining white on his tan skin.

“Why?” Bentley questioned, making his way to the bed and pushing himself back onto the soft mattress. He shimmied back into his spot next to Asten.

The Brazilian typed around on the keyboard, eyes not leaving the spreadsheet. “It’s the Areopagus. It connects them all.”

Bentley peered over at the screen. Asten had, like, fifty tabs pulled up all over the screen, each about a different person, each about the Areopagus. “Every single one of these people has had something to do with it — they used to teach there, they went missing near it, they were taking classes there. When she chased me, we were on the same block as it.”

Bentley hummed in acknowledgment, dragging his dark irises across the tabs. Each one had a yellow highlighted word on it, and every single one was Areopagus. “But I haven’t been there, and she’s still messing with me.”

“Yeah, well…” Asten waved a dismissive hand toward him, an expression like defeat crossing his features before a similar determination to Bruce’s took its place. “You’re also the kid of the richest man alive, which means you’re a million dollar toy in the eye of kidnappers. They’d be dumb not to target you.”

Bentley said nothing, unsure if that was a bad thing or actually some sort of strange compliment? Not that the statement made him feel any better.

“I think we should look into it,” Asten continued, clicking around on the keyboard.

“Yeah… I’m not really interested in going to the place where everyone gets kidnapped,” Nico muttered, pulling at his hoodie strings again. He had his gray hood pulled over his fuzzy blonde hair, and Bentley couldn’t help but wonder why he’d put it on indoors.

“We aren’t going there, idiot. It’s like a hundred-fifty dollars just to walk through the door,” Asten said with a little cringe. Bentley remembered, from what he’d heard about Jason, that Crime Alley, where Asten lived, was a pretty poor part of town. Not that Bentley would want Bruce to spend that much just for him to walk into that place, either. “Just chill, I already have a plan.”

“Which is?”

Bentley watched as Asten pulled up the official Areopagus website. Nico moved to his opposite side, where he could see the screen, so his blue hair was sandwiched in the middle of them. He navigated to a little tab on the website that said: our faculty and staff.

A bunch of photographs and names popped up, but Asten scrolled immediately, like he knew what he was looking for.

“Ta-da,”

It was Dr. Keene, their homeroom teacher. His face was big and smiling at them from a photograph, and next to his name, it said: Head Astrology Professor.

“He works there. Which means I can interrogate him about the place to my heart’s content,” Asten replied, sighing lightly. “That’s about all I’ve got. Besides walking through the door.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Nico said flatly, glancing between Asten and Bentley with dull blue eyes. “But, if this actually has nothing to do with the Areopagus, all you’re doing is making an enemy out of our teacher.”

“Nah,” Asten shook his head. “I could get an adult to chew their own hand off if I pulled enough stops. Perks of being a sad little foreign blue-haired orphan. He won’t suspect a thing.”

Bentley, still, stayed quiet. Asten really used the fact that his parents were dead to make people feel bad and do what he wanted? It sort of reminded him of what Damian said — that his whole existence in the Manor was founded on pity. His relationships. It had hurt really bad in the moment, when Damian said that, but now, he realized Asten was the exact same way. Because he wanted it that way. He wanted them to pity him, because he could twist it and use it to his advantage. Turning something that could hurt into something he could use — why hadn’t Bentley thought of that? He was basically born to manipulate people, wasn’t he?

Even though the thought of lying and twisting and using his own pain to control other people made his guts get all twisty, he decided that, in order to keep this secret plan a secret from all the Waynes and the whole of society, that Asten had it right; that was the best way to do it.

So Bentley breathed in and, for the first time since December, turned it all back on. He strung back up all the carefully designed webs his father had built in his mind. The webs the Waynes had ripped down, had destroyed without even knowing, the webs that dragged him out of his newfound family’s unfailing love and locked him in a dark place alone. A dark place where he separated himself from all people at all times, where he shoved his emotions down into a box and never looked at them again. A place where every conversation wasn’t just a conversation, but a mission, a transaction, an equation just for him to twist to his will and reap the benefits. A place his father had built, where there was only enough room inside for him to be one single thing.

The Puppeteer.

He closed every single door that stood open between himself and the Waynes, locked them, dead-bolted them shut. For now, his family was nothing more than a badly placed obstacle in the way of his goal. He had to beat Batman, he had to get to her first.

At least maybe his father would be proud.

—

They went downstairs about an hour later.

Damian had long since disappeared again, to a place Bentley didn’t know. Didn’t care about, he reminded himself. To be the Puppeteer, he had to not care. But pretend he did. He had to pretend he didn’t care to pretend he did care. Simple enough, right?

Dick and Jason were in the dining room when they made it down there. There was still a glass dish with some yellowy casserole in it on the center of the table, tin foil covering the top.

Asten shared a look with Jason. And Jason gave him a look back. And if Bentley was remembering correctly (which he was, because he’d been with Asten this entire time.) the two had never spoken before. But, contrary to the fact that they hardly knew each other, Asten sat next to Jason. Which starkly opposed last night, when he strictly sat himself between Bentley and Nico and no one else. Spoke to no one else. Hardly looked at anyone else.

Bentley thought it was weird.

Dick made friendly conversation while they ate, and Bentley made friendly conversation back, careful to act normal but keep himself separated from the emotion behind it. He’d failed his father because his feelings had gotten in the way, his yearning for something like love. This time, he had to be colder. More distant. He had to look at his family like pawns the way he neglected to do the first time.

He didn’t intend to fail again.

Brunch lasted a while, then they went to the den for a movie marathon. Nico left for his own house at about five in the evening. Asten stayed for a while longer, claiming his uncle would be home at seven, but declining every possible offer of a ride. He just stayed for a while and sat next to Jason on the couch — not too close, but not far enough for strangers — until he decided Bruce could drive him to a bus stop he took.

Bentley remembered, just as Asten and Bruce left the house, that Asten hadn’t been in the bed last night.

Had Asten been with Jason?

Bentley was left alone with Dick and Jason in the den. He was pressed against the former’s side, much like he had been in the hospital bed. Seeing Bentley’s memories seemed to rattle him, badly, and he still didn’t have his normal shine about him.

But Bentley didn’t care, he reminded himself. Only pretended he did. Or maybe he didn’t need to pretend since he did care? But getting his emotions mixed up in this would be messy, so yes, pretending it was.

In the middle of watching The Outsiders for at least the second time on that particular Sunday, Damian appeared in the doorway.

The same thing happened there that happened in the hallway earlier — Damian’s eyes flicked. Between Bentley and Dick, over and over until his expression (still subtle, still vague) darkened to something like murder. Bentley saw it, at least.

“Hey, little D. Coming to watch with us?” Dick extended his opposite arm in a silent invitation, one Damian usually always took, even if he grumbled about it.

This time, he walked away.

Bentley wondered. His mind wandered freely, everything coming into focus a bit clearer now that he was rid of his emotions regarding Damian. (Rid meaning currently avoiding them like the plague.) He wondered what Damian was actually struggling with. He said that he had to work to stay in the family, and Bentley didn’t. He wondered if it really did hurt to see Bentley getting all the attention and affection he didn’t get… because he wouldn’t let himself accept it. He got mad when people touched him. He spat rude words at every chance. He pretended to be so disconnected even though he wanted to be in Bentley’s place so bad, even though he was so jealous the only way he could get it out was raging on everyone like a cyclone running rampant through the house. He was so angry about being rejected even though he was the one who rejected himself. Dick wouldn’t reject him. Bruce wouldn’t reject him. None of them would, he just assumed they were because he’d done it to himself and now it hurt.

And… and…

Bentley decided… that he…

Didn’t care.

—

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