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#clearly me as a child thought i needed to have multiple copies
voiidegg · 1 year
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i rlly need to hack my 2ds so i can play all the ace attorney games i’ve almost finished the third game and i don’t wanna have the sad hole in my heart cuz i don’t have the rest
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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 13
Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊
Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 13 - This Venerable One's Bride
No need to remind Mo Ran. Chu Wanning had already figured that out long ago.
Those people were chatting and laughing, but they didn't know where the voices came from. Those who were sitting or standing, gesturing and toasting; their faces were blank, just like paper.
"What do we do? Do we have to go in and drink with them?"
Chu Wanning was not amused by Mo Ran's poorly-timed joke, and he lowered his head in thought.
At this moment, there was a sound of rustling footsteps in the distance. Two long lines of people emerged from the hazy fog, slowly approaching the main building from the distance.
Chu Wanning and Mo Ran subconsciously ducked behind the rocks, and the two teams approached, led by a coquettishly smiling golden boy and girl. These two people had clearly defined facial features. Their faces were colourful, and in the night light, they looked like paper dolls burned for the dead.
Each of them was holding a red candle in one hand. The body of the candle was as thick as the child’s arm, with dragon and phoenix seals entwined on it. As the candle burned, the rich fragrance of the powder wafted to their noses, and Mo Ran almost fainted again. Fortunately, the wound that Chu Wanning stabbed in his arm still hurt, and he squeezed the wound again, finally keeping his consciousness clear.
Chu Wanning gave him a look.
Mo Ran: ". . .cough, this trick works."
After a pause, he wondered again: "Shizun, why don't you need to poke holes in your body to stay awake?"
Chu Wanning: "This fragrance doesn't work on me."
"Huh? Why?"
Chu Wanning said coldly: "Good concentration."
Mo Ran: ". . ."
Headed by the golden boy and girl, the two lines climbed up the steps. Chu Wanning moved his gaze back, looked for a second, and suddenly let out a low "Hmm?"
He was rarely surprised, so Mo Ran was immensely curious. He followed his line of sight to see, also amazed.
He saw that those who swayed in the procession were all dead bodies with closed eyes. They had pale skin and kept the appearance they had before alive. Most of them were very young. They were in their twenties, both men and women. One figure was very familiar--
The Chen family's eldest son, who was seen in the coffin before, appeared in the procession again at some point. His eyes were closed. He followed the scent of candles and walked slowly. Next to him was something different from the others. Others had corpses walking next to them, he walked next to a paper mâché ghost bride.
While Mr. Chen was not a big deal, when the procession came to the end and they saw the people at the end of the two lines, Mo Ran's face drained of blood.
Shi Mei and Chen Yao had their faces hung and were following behind the dead body. Both of them had their eyes closed. Their faces were as white as snow. Their walking posture was no different from those of the dead people in front of them. They didn't even know if they were still alive or not.
Mo Ran's mind exploded. He jumped up and wanted to rush over, but Chu Wanning suddenly grabbed his shoulders: "Hold on."
"But Shi Mei——!!!"
"I know." Chu Wanning stared at the procession slowly moving forward and whispered, "Don't move rashly. Look over there, there is a martial law barrier. If you rush past it, the barrier will scream and I'm afraid that all the faceless ghosts in the yard will rush at you, and the scene will grow out of control."
Chu Wanning is the master of barrier enchantments. He recognized these enchantments well and his eyes were razor-sharp. Mo Ran found that at the entrance to the banquet yard, there was a nearly transparent film.
The golden boy and girl walked to the front of the courtyard. They gently blew on the cupped candle flame, fluttered the flames, and then slowly - passed through the layer of barriers and walked into the courtyard.
The men and women behind them followed them one after the other, passing through the transparent barrier without any issue. The faceless people in the yard drinking wedding wine turned their heads, watching the men and women who entered, laughing and applauding.
Chu Wanning said: "Go, follow them. When you cross the barrier, remember not to breathe and keep your eyes closed. Also, no matter what happens, copy what the corpses are doing and never speak."
He didn't need to say anything more. Mo Ran eagerly wanted to save the others, and immediately followed Chu Wanning into the group of corpses.
The number of corpses in the two lines stayed the same. Chu Wanning stood behind Shi Mei, and Mo Ran could only stand behind Chen Yao. The lines moved very slowly, Mo Ran glanced over at Shi Mei several times. All he could see was his pale profile and a section of white neck that was helplessly drooping.
It was hard to keep up the act all the way to the boundary. The two concentrated and held their breath, smoothly following through to the courtyard. After entering, he found out that the area inside was much larger than it looked like from the outside. In addition to the three-story main building, the courtyard was lined with a hundred or so small rooms, each of which had a red letter of happiness in their window and a red lantern.
The faceless guests suddenly stood up. Salutes were fired and suona horns sounded.
A faceless salute officer in front of the building sang in waves: "The auspicious hour has arrived, and the bride and groom have entered the garden--"
Mo Ran was stunned. What? He dared to say that these two dead bodies are the bride and groom?
He turned his head to ask for help from Chu Wanning, but the brows of Beidou Immortal were furrowed. He was immersed in his own thoughts, unable to extricate himself, and didn't bother to look at Mo Ran.
. . . Mo Ran felt that all his uncle's hard work might be in vain. Going down the mountain to gain experience, with this kind of shizun, was really more damaging to his pride than if he had gone without a shizun.
Suddenly a group of laughing and joking tufts of children rushed out from the courtyard, dressed in bright red clothes, but with white head ropes tied in pigtails. They clustered like fish to either side of the lines and began pulling one person each, leading them to the compartments on either side.
Mo Ran didn't know what to do so he mouthed to Chu Wanning: Shizun, what should I do?
Chu Wanning shook his head, pointing to the tidal wave of dead bodies that followed the boy and girl scattered in front of him. The meaning was clear - follow them.
There was no choice but to let a boy with a bun pull him forward, stumbling into one of the compartments. As soon as he entered, the boy waved his sleeve in the air, and the door closed with a bang.
Mo Ran stared at the little man, wondering what the faceless brat wanted to do to him.
In his previous life, Chu Wanning rescued Shi Mei first and then broke the illusion. He didn't do anything the entire time then he easily removed the evil spirits. And then all he did was relish in the wonderful afterglow of kissing Shi Mei. Afterwards, during Chu Wanning’s report, he actually didn't listen much.
So now the situation had completely changed. He didn't know what was going to happen next, so he could only bite the bullet.
The room was decorated with a dressing table, a bronze mirror standing upright, and a black and red suit embroidered with Ruyi patterns supported on the wooden frame.
The boy patted the stool and motioned for Mo Ran to sit down.
Mo Ran realized that the ghosts here weren't very clever. They were pretty stupid. As long as he didn't speak, they couldn't tell the dead from the living, so he sat in front of the dressing table like the child wanted. The little boy rustled over and started to help him freshen up and change his clothes. . .
Suddenly, a begonia flower drifted in from the window and landed leisurely in the water inside the copper basin.
Mo Ran's eyes lit up. This begonia was called Evening Night Northern Star, which was specifically used by Chu Wanning for silent messaging.
He picked up the begonia from the water, and the flower instantly stretched and bloomed in his palm, revealing a gleam of light gold in the centre.
He twisted the golden light on his fingertips and put it to his ears. Chu Wanning's voice rang in his ears.
"Mo Ran, I have confirmed with Tianwen that this is the illusion created by the Master of Ceremonies Ghost in Caidie Town. It was worshipped by the villagers' incense for a hundred years and gradually cultivated into something more physical. As long as there are more ghost marriages, its power will grow stronger, so it loves to organize these wedding ceremonies. Those corpses lined up in two lines should be the ghost couples that the people of Caidie Town have put together under its witness over the past hundreds of years. It likes this kind of fun. Every night, it summons those corpses to the illusionary realm and conducts another ghost marriage, and each time it conducts it, it grows even stronger."
Mo Ran thought to himself - What a pervert!
When other gods are bored, they'll at most match up boys and girls. What kind of Master of Ceremonies is this? It's said to have an immortal body, but its brain must not have kept up with it. Its only hobby was to match up male corpses and female corpses. It didn't matter if they were already matched, the dead married corpses were summoned from the grave every night, again, again, and again.
Was this group of corpses that good-looking?
This bachelor god must be lonely enough.
Chu Wanning continued: "Its true body isn't here. Don't act rashly. Follow the instructions of the golden boy and girl for a while. Since it wants to absorb the power of their ghost marriage, it will inevitably show its original shape in the end."
Mo Ran wanted to ask: Where's Shi Mei? How's Shi Mei?
"There's no need to worry about Shi Mei. He, like Madam Chen, was bewitched by the fragrance powder and temporarily lost consciousness." Chu Wanning considered the problem very carefully and made it clear that what Mo Ran might be wondering. "Take care of yourself. I've got everything under control."
After speaking, the voice disappeared.
At the same time, the child also took care of Mo Ran's attire. He looked up and saw that the face in the bronze mirror was beautiful, the corners of his lips naturally raised, his eyebrows were clean and fresh, his collars were overlapped, his auspicious clothing was a flaming red, and the hair was long but tied back with a white hairband, and he really looked like a married bridegroom.
The boy made a gesture of "if you would" and the door of the closed compartment creaked open.
Under the corridor, standing a row of corpses in auspicious clothes, both men and women, it seemed that the clay head mould of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost wasn't enlightened yet. As long as he had pairs in the hall to be married, it didn't matter, regardless of whether it was a man and woman, man and man, or woman and woman. He didn't care.
There was only one line of dead bodies standing on this side of the corridor, and the other line was on the opposite side. They were too far away, and he couldn't see if Chu Wanning and Shi Wei had come out.
The procession was moving slowly forward, and every now and then the sound of the chanting of the officials in the building could be heard. The marriage of one pair after another was slowly being completed.
Mo Ran took a look at Chen Yao in front of him and felt that something was wrong. After pondering for a while, when the line was gradually shortening and the last few pairs were about to take their turn, the dirty bastard finally understood— —
Wait! According to the procession, does that mean the woman in front of him is going to be married to Shi Mei? Wouldn't that mean he's going to be paired with that little bitch Chu Wanning? This isn't going to work!
At that moment, the former emperor of the human realm was not happy anymore. He grimaced and unceremoniously pulled Chen Yao, and cut in line and stood in front of the others.
The little boy behind him was taken aback for a moment, but Mo Ran quickly put on the expression of a half-dead hanged ghost with a bowed head, drooping down and mixing in with the corpses. Those golden boys and girls with low cultivation levels were in a daze, probably too dumb to figure out what had happened so they didn't react.
This time Mo Ran was happy. He followed the line with great enthusiasm, ready to walk to the end so that he could meet with Shi Mei on the other side of the corridor.
At the same time.
Chu Wanning glanced at Shi Mei standing in front of him, and thought for a while, not knowing what dangers lay ahead.
He has always been hard-spoken and soft-hearted, though harsh to the point of being repulsive. But, in fact, as long as he was there, he wouldn't put his apprentice in any kind of danger.
As a result, he also tugged Shi Mei and pulled the unconscious man behind him while he stood in Shi Mei's original position.
It was his turn.
The ghost bridesmaid standing at the end of the corridor was holding a black and red tray. Seeing Chu Wanning coming over, he chuckled, his face without facial features making a girl's crisp voice.
"Greetings and congratulations to the bride, she is beautiful and white."
Chu Wanning's face instantly darkened.
Br-Bride. . .? ? Do you have no eyes?
He looked at the blank face of the ghost bridesmaid again and held back a shout.
He really doesn't have any fucking eyes.
The ghost bridesmaid smiled and picked up the red gauze veil in the tray. Raising his jade-like arms and pale hands, he covered Chu Wanning's face. Then he stretched out his cold hand, gently held Chu Wanning, and said with a sweet smile: "Bride, if you would."
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All Men Have Limits - VIII
Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne
Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.
Word Count: 3,600+
Warning: Mention of sexual assault 
Previously on…
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“Going along with this plan seems rather unlike you,” Tim finally pointed out to Bruce.
It was the two younger boys and Bruce sitting in the cave. 
“Without her help, we would have never been able to get the evidence we need to take down The Court of Owls,” Bruce sighed as he looked up at the screens.
“Yeah, but like you said before, we never use our own as bait,” Tim countered.
“Y/N knows what she’s doing.”
Tim and Damian shared a look.
“Are you certain things have not gone too personal, father?” Damian finally asked.
The personal question finally forced Bruce to tear his eyes away from the screens and look at his son.
His gaze shifted between Tim and Damian. From their looks alone, Bruce realized that his feelings towards Y/N were not as subtle and secret as he wanted.
But Bruce knew better than to answer Damian. 
The boy had never been invested in his father’s personal relationships before. Why did he have to start now? And with Y/N?
“What happens if things go south?” Tim challenged.
But Damian answered for his father. “You know he has a plan B and C, Drake. He always does, even if he doesn’t share it.”
Bruce was not about to have a conversation about his love and sex life with his two youngest sons. So, he thought of something to escape and he thought of it fast.
He stood up quickly and faced them. “Mandatory family dinner. Tonight.”
“What!?” Damian screamed in outrage.
“I don’t want to,” Tim whined like a baby, even though he was very much a young man standing at the ripe age of 19.
“Mandatory,” Bruce repeated solidly before leaving the cave.
Damian and Tim shared a look.
“This is your fault,” Tim accused.
“How is it my fault?”
“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut about the sexual tension we’re all choking on in this damn mansion!”
“But you don’t disagree. You’ve noticed it as well.”
“I was a little late to the game, but yes,” Tim admitted.
“She’s not like the other ones,” Damian muttered so quietly that Tim almost missed it. 
“No, she’s not,” Tim confirmed. 
——————
Bruce was slightly surprised to find Y/N sitting at the outdoor pool, reading a book.
She wasn’t in a bathing suit – just shorts and a t-shirt.
Bruce walked over with his hands in the pocket of his slacks.
“If I didn’t know better, I would think that you’re starting to like it here.”
She looked up from her book with a smirk. “For the record, I still think we should ‘eat the rich.’”
Bruce smirked. “Right. Of course.”
Y/N eyed him. “Did you need something?”
“Are you sure about this?”
Of course he was coming to try and talk her out of the plan once again.
“Bruce, I’m not changing my mind.”
“Figured you would say that.”
Y/N could see his mind racing. It was obvious he hadn’t stopped thinking about everything that could wrong with. Bruce needed control. And even if he was going into an inevitably dangerous situation, he always had multiple plans to get out alive. Y/N’s involvement made it harder for him to do that. 
“Careful,” she warned him playfully, “It’s starting to look like you’re worried about me.”
“I am,” he retorted.
Her amusement vanished. “I didn’t think you worried. Or got scared.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you had realized by now that both of those things happen when you’re involved.”
She didn’t know how to respond that. She really didn’t.
“I also came out here to tell you we’re having a family dinner tonight.” Yes, Dick and Tim were basically living at the manor while they handled this specific case. But it was rare that the whole family ate together. All the boys would come back from patrol at different times. Alfred usually made something and put each of their meals in the oven or fridge for when they got back.
But Bruce made a habit of having mandatory family dinners. They weren’t frequent. And the boys often viewed them as some sort of punishment. But Bruce saw it as a way to remind them all that they were a family. A chaotic and a strange one, but they were still a family.
“It would be nice if you could join us,” Bruce added politely.  
Y/N smiled at how obvious it was that he was choosing his words carefully. “It was really hard for you to not me tell what to do, wasn’t it?”
He narrowed his gaze at her from being caught.
She never seemed to miss an opportunity to tease him. 
“Yes. I’ll join you.”
Bruce nodded, clearly pleased with her answer.
“Will you miss it?” Bruce surprised her by asking as he looked around at the exterior of the manor, looking almost lost in thought.
“It’s a home,” Y/N sighed. “And even with all the secrets and dark pasts, it’s still filled with happy memories, too. And a family.” 
Then she smirked. “Even if it’s a highly dysfunctional one,” she added teasingly.
“Not sure all the boys would agree with you on that.”
“Are you sure about that?” Y/N challenged.
———————
Y/N walked out of her bedroom right as Dick was dragging Damian down the hallway.
“Come on. It’s never as bad as you think it’s gonna be,” Dick tried to tell the boy.
“Why did Todd come? He never comes to family dinner. He doesn’t even see us as his family.”
Dick smirked. “You and I both know that’s not true, no matter how many times he tries to convince everyone – even himself.”
Then both of them noticed Y/N’s presence in the hallway.
“You look pretty,” Dick complimented.
Y/N looked down at her outfit and shrugged. “Figured I could make a bit more of an effort.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Damian huffed before leaving the two of them behind.
Y/N and Dick both laughed lightly at his attitude.
“I’ve never told you how good you are with him,” she thought aloud.
“I don’t know about that…”
Y/N turned to him with an insistent look. “You are. Sometimes I think he listens to you more than Bruce. He looks up to you. I think it’s because…” her words die out.
“What? What you were going to say?”
Y/N still hesitated, but told him anyway. “I think it’s because you’re more available to him…emotionally, I mean.”
“Sometimes I feel like I have to talk to him the same way I do with Bruce. He’s a younger carbon copy of the guy. Just brattier.” Dick sighed. “Deep down, Damian has a good heart and he cares deeply about the people in his life. He’ll just never admit it.”
Y/N nodded.
It did sound like Bruce.
But Y/N never considered Dick would have a similar impact on Bruce that he also had with Damian. She wondered what Bruce would be like today if he had never taken in an orphaned Richard Grayson.
Sometimes Y/N believed Bruce would be completely devoid of any and all emotions if it hadn’t been for an adolescent Dick. His needs and wants as a child had prevented Bruce from turning completely into a callous vigilante with nothing tying him to his own humanity and life.
Y/N was about to continue her walk to the dining room, but Dick softly grabbed her arm.
“Hey, before we walking into the chaos…” Dick cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure we’re okay after the other night.” He shifted his weight and looked at the ground. “If I was too forward or I misread something or–”
“Dick?” Y/N interrupted with a smug look.
His head shot up to look at her. “Yeah?”
She had a wicked gleam in her eyes.
Then she moved into Dick’s space, closing the distance between their bodies and did not stop until they could feel each other’s body heat.
Y/N tipped her head as if she was about to kiss him.
But her lips stopped just a centimeter or two from his.
Dick’s eyes turned menacing once he realized she was messing with him.
“Yes,” Y/N whispered seductively, “we’re okay.”
Then she slipped away quickly and started walking away without him.
“That was cruel!” Dick called after her.
But her only response was her laugher from down the hall.
Dick shook his head, but couldn’t stop his smiling.
Maybe it was avoidance or a distraction from the reality of their relationship. But Y/N couldn’t deny that it was also fun.
Dinner was in the formal dining room of the manor. This was the first time Y/N had even stepped foot in the room. The fireplace was even lit. Even when Wayne Manor was hardly trying, it reminded Y/N how out of place she was.  “If I have to sit through this bullshit, you’re sitting next to me,” Jason said from behind Y/N, making her jump.
To her horror, Jason pulled out a seat at the head of the table. Two at each end and then two chairs in the middle on both sides.
“Oh, I don’t think–” Y/N stuttered out in panic.
“You’re the guest,” Jason cut her off and gently pushed in the chair when he finally got her to sit.
Damian was already sitting to the right, closer to the other head of the table– probably to be closer to his father.
Jason sat down to the left of Y/N. And when Dick finally caught up to her, he didn’t question Y/N sitting at the head and sat to the right of her.
“Perfect. You’re like our future step mom,” Jason declared.
Damian snickered, despite hating to laugh at Jason’s joke.
But Y/N looked horrified. She was about to jump up and take the remaining middle seat on the other side of Jason. But Tim’s timing was absolutely horrendous.
“Please switch spots with me,” Y/N leaned forward and hissed at Dick.
He smirked. “Absolutely not.”
When he saw her obvious panic, he leaned forward as well and whispered, “That’s payback for earlier.”
Y/N glared at him and huffed.
“Oh, I’m so glad I came,” Jason sighed.
Bruce walked into the room with his head held high. “Tim, no phones. You know better.”
Tim sighed in annoyance but slipped his phone into his back pocket.
Dick leaned to Y/N. “Bruce has a strict ‘no electronics’ rule for family dinners. Phones are forbidden.”
Y/N nodded, even though she would never be so rude as to bring a phone to dinner, especially when she was a guest and this was a literal “manor.”
Somehow Jason had pulled a bottle of red wine from nowhere. Or maybe it had been sitting on the table and Y/N had just missed it.
And Jason had already grabbed Y/N’s glass and gave her a heavy pour. “But drinking is highly encouraged,” he added with a crooked smile.
Y/N barely let him finish pouring before she grabbed the wine and chugged. 
When she put the glass back down, Bruce was watching her carefully. She at least had enough shame to sink lower in her chair and give him an apologetic look.
But Bruce was amused more than anything.
He’d never brought a woman to a family dinner like this. And though the situation was not that straightforward, it was still causing him a weird amount of anxiety.
“How are your lessons going, Damian?” Bruce broke the tension with the question.
Damian muttered off what sounded like rehearsed and generic statements about his personal studies.
“I didn’t even know he went to school,” Y/N muttered to Dick as Damian and Bruce talked.
“He doesn’t. He’s technically homeschooled,” Jason answered first. “Which is total bullshit seeing as all of us were forced to go to Gotham Academy with all the spoiled brats of the city.”
“As if it mattered, you died before you were forced to graduate from the stupid establishment,” Damian commented darkly.
Jason beamed and laughed lightly at the comment.
But Dick, Tim, and Y/N all froze and looked to Bruce.
They all knew it was a sensitive topic. 
Bruce was clearly trying his hardest not to scold them all night. So he just took in a deep, shaky breath.
“Why get your GED or drop out of high school when you can just get murdered?” Jason offered with enthusiasm.
“Jason,” Y/N warned lowly when she saw the pained look on Bruce’s face that he was trying so hard to hide.
Jason’s death still haunted Bruce and riddled him with guilt – despite the miracle of him being resurrected. Y/N probably knew that more than any of the boys. Maybe only Dick really shared that understanding.
“You’re right,” Jason agreed. “Tonight’s not about me. You’re the guest, Y/N. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”
Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got caught in her throat when she felt everyone’s eyes on her.
This was not how she imagined tonight going.
But Alfred – her savior – interrupted with the first course of soup and salad.
Everyone was momentarily distracted with the food.
Y/N hoped it stayed that way.
“Who taught you how to hack?” Damian piped up.
Y/N relaxed at that particular question. “No one. I taught myself.”
“Where’s your family?” Tim asked innocently.
Y/N flipped through all the possible lies she could tell, deciding to go with the one that would lead to the least amount of follow-up questions. And it wasn’t a lie at all.
“We’re estranged,” Y/N mumbled without looking up from her food.
“Parents are overrated,” Jason commented with a smirk.
Dick and Bruce glared at him.
However, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with Jason.
Little did she know that Jason could relate to her upbringing far more than anyone else at the table. Their childhood’s were parallel. Ones neither of them deserved. 
Tim instantly felt guilty for asking an uncomfortable question without realizing it.
“Y/N is not here to be interrogated,” Bruce warned the table.
“Well, why don’t you tell us about her, B?” Jason answered. “How exactly did you two meet again?”
Bruce narrowed his gaze. He knew what game this was. The more emotion and reaction he showed, the more it would encourage Jason to continue with such antics. “We worked on a case together a couple years ago,” was all Bruce supplied.
“More like she threatened you into working with her,” Dick mumbled as he tried to hide his smirk by licking his lips.
Y/N kicked him under the table.
“So, Y/N, have you always had a thing for older men?” Jason asked.
She gave him a death glare.
“Jason, come on.” Dick cautioned.
“I mean, you of all people should be curious, Dickie.”
Everyone went quiet.
Jason rolled his eyes and looked around the table. “Oh. Are we all pretending there’s not a weird love triangle going on?”
“I didn’t realize my sex life was up for discussion tonight,” Y/N mumbled.
But it wasn’t just sex was it?
“Why don’t we all go around the table and share!?” Jason suggested loudly. “Dick, you first. What’s your number?”
“Jason that is enough.” Bruce grunted.
But Y/N had it with Jason’s pot stirring and she wasn’t going to let Bruce fight her battles for her.
She snapped her head in Jason’s direction. “I hope you don’t have a sex tape laying around, because I will sell that shit to PornHub faster than you can jerk off,” she threatened.
The words slipped out of Y/N’s mouth so quickly that she had momentarily forgotten that a literal child was also sitting at the dinner table.
Her hand slammed over her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. 
Jason threw his head back with laughter. This was exactly the chaos he was trying to start.
Her eyes whipped to Damian with horror as she blurted out, “I am so sorry!"
“Please, I know what fornication is,” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m not so innocent. After all, I was conceived from my mother drugging my father and forcing coitus onto him.”
“I also slept with said mother,” Jason chimed in.
Tim made a disgusted gag noise.  
Dick rubbed his face in exhaustion. Y/N’s jaw dropped at this new information. 
But when she looked to Bruce, he wouldn’t meet her stare, only further proving it was all true.
This was no laughing matter. 
Yet the whole family seemed desensitized by the subject.  
Y/N was processing that Bruce had gone through such an assault – and by the mother of his only biological son, nonetheless. “Can Jonathan come over soon for a sleepover, father?” Damian suddenly asked.
The subject change was like whiplash on the entire table.
Y/N couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t just move past what she found out like that. 
“I don’t see why not,” Bruce answered.
Clearly he was grateful for his son’s short attention span and his inability to read the room and realize he’d said something entirely inappropriate for the situation. 
But Y/N could also see the subtle happiness in Bruce’s eyes from his son asking him such a question. And for that split second, this felt like a normal family.
“Who’s Jonathan?” Y/N asked Dick quietly.
She was trying to follow Bruce’s lead and move on. 
“Superman’s son,” Dick provided.
“And literally Damian’s only friend,” Jason added.
“I heard that!” Damian shouted.
“I meant you to!”
“Put that knife down, Damian.” Bruce warned. “What have I told you?”
Damian lowered his head in shame. “The knives at the dinner table are for eating, and are not to be used as weapons under any circumstance.”
The table suddenly erupted into various conversations. Tim started talking Wayne Enterprises business with Bruce. Damian and Jason were shooting insults at each other. Alfred brought in another course.
Dick and Y/N shared a moment.
She sighed, realizing that the worst of it was probably over now.
‘Sorry,’ Dick mouthed to her.
‘It’s OK,’ she mouthed back.
The dinner continue with filet mignon, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, mushroom bordelaise, and – thankfully – more wine. 
Maybe Jason had helped them all in a way by airing out all their dirty laundry immediately and getting it over with so they could move on.
But as Y/N looked around the table, listening to the boys and Bruce talk, she realized that maybe – just maybe – she didn’t want to leave. 
Alfred put all the boys to work cleaning the dishes after dinner.
But he refused to allow Y/N to help. Once a guest always a guest.
Alfred handed Y/N a fresh glass of wine and told her to wait in the drawing room and that he’d bring dessert within the hour.  
Y/N knew better than to argue with him and did as she was told.
There was a roaring fire in the room, pulling her to it.
“Please don’t take anything Jason said personally,” Bruce said from behind her.
Y/N let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. “He loves to start drama. That’s for fucking sure.”
“He’s constantly trying to get back at me. You weren’t his target. I was. But I apologize that you were caught in the crossfire.”
She turned away from the fireplace to face him.
Her eyes were heartbroken and worried.
“You never told me about…” she hesitated, “about Damian’s mother. I-I had no idea.”
“I try not to speak of it. No matter what happened in the past, Talia is still Damian’s mother.”
“But she still–”
“I’m fine,” Bruce cut her off. “Really, Y/N. I came to terms with it long ago.”
He was irritated, but too preoccupied with comforting Y/N to face the dark truth of how Damian was conceived.
“Well, if you need to ta–”
“I know, Y/N. Thank you.”
Their moment was interrupted by the boys trampling in the drawing room.
Dick had Damian thrown over his shoulder as the boy screamed insults at both Tim and Jason. Clearly Dick was preventing a full-on brawl from errupting.
The bickering and teasing continued but wasn’t anywhere near as awkward or stressful as it was at dinner. Perhaps all the glasses of wine Y/N had were helping with that. She decided to simply sit back and watch the Wayne family.
Eventually it hit Damian’s bed time. Bruce insisted on tucking his son into bed. 
Jason took their leave as his cue to leave the manor. 
Tim went up to his own room. Except they all knew it wasn’t to sleep, but to get back to work and not stop until he was utterly exhausted. 
The drawing room turned relaxing as Dick and Y/N were the only two who remained. 
“You survived,” Dick pointed out with a chuckle.
“I did,” Y/N answered with a light laugh.
Dick let a moment pass before he asked,  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about your parents?”
She sighed, knowing Dick was going to bring this up at some point.
“Because I don’t tell anyone about them.”
“You told Bruce,” he countered.
Her brow furrowed. “And how do you know that?”
Dick at least looked guilty for answering, “He told me.”
She glared at him. “So is that what you two do now? You talk about me with each other? Swap notes?”
“Course not. But don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical getting mad about it?”
“Hypocritical?” She shot back.
“Yeah, hypocritical. You did a background check on every single member of this family. You know my entire past. You know every woman I’ve been connected to in my life. But the moment I know something about you, it’s not OK?”
“As if you wouldn’t offer that info freely if I asked…”
“That’s exactly my point, Y/N.” Dick sounded exasperated. “I’m trying to get to know you. I’m really trying. But now I know you’ve done it before. So I’m asking you to trust me enough to do it again.”
“It’s not that simple,” Y/N mumbled before walking out of the room.
Dick let out a groan of frustration and rubbed his face.
That definitely could’ve gone better.
But Y/N’s night wasn’t free of the Wayne men yet.
Just before reaching her bedroom door, Bruce crossed her path.
“Hey!” She snapped at him. “My past isn’t something for you to announce to whoever the fuck you want.”
“Y/N, that’s–”
“Save it,” Y/N snapped before he could get a word in. “Whatever broody and cryptic bullshit you’re about to spew…just…save it, k?”
And with that, Y/N slammed her bedroom door shut.
---------------------
Part 9
A/N: I know a lot of people really hate the Talia/Bruce sexual assualt storyline. But that was the version of Damian’s conception that I was most familiar with. I didn’t want to make light of it, because we all know male victims of sexual assault are not taken seriously – and that’s fucked up. But I also didn’t want to linger on it too long since it’s such a disliked plot point
Let me know what you thought of this chapter!!! Pretty, pretty please. 😔
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amidstsaltandsmoke · 3 years
Note
51&84 plss you drables are so cute. its like a comfort read
Anon, thank you 😭 that's sweet of you to say and I'm happy that you think so! Thus, here is my gift to you; hope you enjoy it!! 🥰 _____________________ Prompts: “I’m your husband. It’s my job.” & “Come on, baby, up to bed.”
Jon Snow was certain about approximately two things: one, that he adored and cherished and loved his wife more than any other living soul on the planet. And second, that she had to be the most bullheaded, stubborn piece of work he’d also ever come to know. He knew these things could not be, and were not, mutually exclusive.
At present, Daenerys was buzzing around the house, corner to corner, leaving not a centimeter untouched with her magic cleaning sponge, the vacuum practically an extra limb at this point, and a bucket full of various other cleaning supplies.
She had come down with a nasty case of the flu two days ago, and he could not figure out why (for the life of him) she was absolutely insistent that she do this. Actually, he did: her parents were in town, had dropped in last minute yesterday afternoon, and all but demanded they come over tomorrow to visit. Even despite Dany telling them over and over again that it wasn’t a good time right now, that she would get them sick (selflessly leaving out the bit where she was actually, completely miserable).
Jon didn’t much care for her parents, but he was able to survive their get-togethers thus far. Seven years and he hadn’t yet lost his mind in their presence. They were rich, snobby, judgmental arseholes who disapproved of every decision Dany made in her life because she had made them and went against their expectations. Even down to their house decor, or tidiness, which was why Dany was being the way she was right now.
They especially did not approve of her choice of husband, but he couldn’t bother to give any less fucks. She was his, and he was hers, and the Targaryen in-laws could quite honestly shove their phony, one-dimensional personalities right up their uptight asses.
...Maybe he was a little bitter.
Nothing he did could convince Dany to stop. She’d been going and going with barely a break, except when he could distract her enough to do so, whether by luring her into the family room to catch her favorite movie and fibbing a little by telling her it was on cable (it wasn’t, but there was something about them being on live telly that she loved so much, even despite owning the physical copies, which he had put on to convince her to sit her perky little arse down). Or, when he’d set up the extra bed in the guest room for her parents to stay (he prayed to all seven gods it wouldn’t come to that), that he really needed her to go lay on it for a few minutes and be sure it was comfortable enough (because, yes, her parents were that finicky and found no issue voicing their opinions). When she hadn’t come down ten minutes later, he found his plan had worked, and she had passed out.
It didn’t last; she had woken in a panic some thirty minutes later, half-asleep and still muttering that there was too much to do yet.
Multiple times did he attempt to intervene and take over, but she would not have it. And he understood it on a normal day when they might host something; she had certain things she was particular about, and he had his. But this was overkill, even on a normal day. He took to all the other chores, but not without keeping two eyes wide open on her, for fear she would exhaust herself into a coma.
At the rate she was scrubbing away every spec of dirt she could find, he was beginning to worry she’d burn holes in the walls and floors. He was exhausted just by watching her, and he decided he had enough. Her hair was frizzed and pulled away from her face, her skin clammy, her pallor more desaturated than normal and that was with a new golden tan after their mini vacation, and overall, she appeared too frail for his liking.
Jon set down the clothes he had bundled up before he was going to shower, padding over to where she was on her hands and knees, swiping away at the floorboards. “Dany...come on. You need rest, not to be worrying over parts of the house nobody notices.”
As soon as she halted her movements and cut him a glare, which was adorably terrifying despite her condition, he knew she was right, even without any words. Her parents did notice these things, for why he could never and would never even begin to try to understand, but to be reiterated, he gave zero shits as to what they thought.
They lived a perfectly comfortable life, organized messes and all.
Resuming her cleaning, he was shocked by how weak her voice sounded. “Would you rather they nag me about my inability to manage a house - or my life, for that matter - or listen to them ramble about their thousandth trip to the Virgin Islands?"
"If it were up to me they wouldn’t be coming at all,” he muttered, earning himself a look that, this time, read, ‘I know, me too’.
Jon sighed. “I’m goin’ to shower - if I find you down here still at it…,” he cut her his best implacable eye, brows raised.
Dany went to roll her eyes, then winced and squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers rubbing at her orbital sockets. She was so congested that she couldn’t even get snarky with him. Instead, she playfully, threw a wet rag in his direction, but it fell with a sad flop barely two feet from where she was kneeling. She burst into a snotty fit of giggles, whilst Jon simply shook his head at his wife and her heavy red eyes, clucking his tongue. “Am I to take that as you throwing in the towel?”
“Jon!” She squeaked, a nasally little sound as she doubled over, not an ounce of energy in her petite and fatigued frame to handle even that. “Augh, disgusting,” she mused after a minute, grabbing a tissue from the second box that had been attached to her hip and blowing her nose.
“I mean it, Dany - ten minutes. Consider that a warning. No arguing this time,” he jut his index at her, but she waved him off without acknowledging him as if she had the most mild case of a cold and not severe body aches, a sinus headache, chills, and fever. Because her parents had never supplied her with love and comfort as a child, her defense mechanism was to do everything herself as often as possible.
It was still a work in progress; she was better at accepting his help these days (except for now, when her parents exacerbated her need to prove herself, of which she most certainly did not need to do), and she was open to letting him pamper her with all the TLC he wanted to give her. He understood that desire for independence, he longed for it himself, but it was time to take matters into his own hands.
________________________________________
Less than ten minutes later, after a quick washing down, Jon came downstairs, and paused. He didn’t hear any sign of movement at all, and for a moment he panicked, the worst of his thoughts diving into his worst fears that she passed herself out from exertion.
However, to his (sort of) relief, he discovered her sitting and hunched over the kitchen table, her forehead on her arms. As he stepped closer, she produced a towel, the very one she’d tried to assault him with earlier, and flung it blindly across the table. “Yes, that’s meant to be literal this time,” she mumbled in the cave she was hiding herself in.
With a victorious smile, Jon made a quick job of switching off the lights, then tucked one arm under her knees and the other around her back. The deep wrinkle between his brow was immediate. “Gods, Dany, you’re soaked.”
She hummed a pitiful laugh into his neck where she nuzzled. He’d foregone a shirt, and her skin was blazing against his, even through her clothes. “Not the first time you’ve told me that.”
“Seven hells,” he grumbled good-naturedly, “and you’re delirious. Come on, baby, up to bed. Let’s get you a bath goin’ first though, love.”
________________________________________
After some careful finessing, Jon deposited Dany atop the closed toilet seat, then went off in search of clean, dry, cool clothes for her. While the bath filled, he instructed her to stay where she was so he wouldn’t need to worry about her hurting herself with how unbalanced she was at the moment.
He boiled her a cup of ginger sweet tea and water, dumped a couple of ibuprofen into his palm, and made his way back to her. Luckily, she didn’t try to move, and soon enough he was helping her peel away her sweat-ridden clothes and getting her into the bath. Nothing too hot so her fever wouldn’t spike further, but a little tepid.
As soon as her medicine was down and he handed her her tea, she turned her sleepy eyes on him where he knelt beside the tub, freeing one hand to gently scrape over his beard. “You spoil me,” she murmured, a soft smile tugging on her lips.
He took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm, scooting closer so he could do the same to her damp forehead. “I’m your husband; it’s my job,” he said, his own eyes weighing down as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
The water had begun to cool shortly after, and a chill took over her. Jon grabbed the thickest towel in their storage closet and wrapped her up like a newborn babe, swaddling her with his arms until the quivering stopped. The medicine still had some time to kick in yet.
Clothed in a tank top and underwear, dry, and warm enough, Dany let him carry her to their bed, setting her down on her side and bringing a light sheet up to her waist. Once the lights were off, he slid in beside her, the pair of them immediately seeking out the other, her back to his front. Jon sat up to lean his head in his hand, using the miniscule light from outside to see her and brush some half dry hair away from her face, running his knuckles down her arm and back up again.
Dany rolled onto her back, her eyes adjusting until she could see him clearly enough. “Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispered. His heart broke, and virus be damned, he leaned down and kissed her plump lips, though she tried (and failed) to weakly push him away.
“You’ll get sick,” she said, her hand cradling his neck.
“Worth it," he declared, giving her neglected lips several more pecks before laying back on his side. "Dany…"
"Mm?" She rolled so she could face him.
“You never have to thank me for taking care of you,” he said softly, tugging her closer, but also trying to be mindful of too much shared body heat would make her fever rise.
“Okay,” she agreed, her voice slightly hoarse.
“I love you,” he whispered against her forehead.
“I love you, too. Even when I’m a disgusting snotty, sweaty, contagious mess?”
“Do you remember our first date?” He smiled into the dark room, a chuckle already bubbling up in his throat.
“I don’t think I could ever forget you trying to pretend you weren’t on your deathbed, just to go on a date with me,” she mused, and he could hear her own grin in her words, her head tilting up so that she could see him.
Ah, yes. The ultimate game of cat and mouse. Daenerys Targaryen had been convinced she would never date again, never give a man a second look for at least another twenty years. Even after Robb introduced the two of them, and Jon was ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain he’d fallen in love with her at first sight, she was reluctant. For six months. But he was patient, and he gave her space while also being conscientious that there was a balance between coming off as far too clingy and seemingly disinterested if he didn’t at least try to find a place in the back of her mind.
Naturally, as was his luck, she finally accepted...and the next morning he’d woken up with a severe bout of the stomach flu. Fate was trying to fuck with him, but despite a trip to the toilet to heave every forty-five minutes, the gods would not win that day. Unfortunately, their plans included dinner, and nothing would stay down in the time leading up to their date. They went to a movie first, and he only had to make two trips to the bathroom to throw up all of his popcorn. When dinner came, it was so physically demanding to keep everything from not reproducing onto the shared table between them, Dany noticed the sweat on his face and kept having to ask him if he was alright
Then his anxiety spiked and he knew, for sure, he would fuck up a very important day by completely freaking her out by his odd behavior. There was bowling, and then they concluded with ice cream, and that did him in. As they took a would-be romantic stroll around the nearby park, the garbage bin never looked so appealing, and that was where he, ironically, definitely fell in love with her. Because rather than run away or laugh at his humiliation, she threw out her (and his) remaining ice cream and rubbed his back as his body seemingly caught up and punished him for holding it all in for hours.
When he tried to apologize between ralphing, she shushed him and told him to stop being ridiculous. Then she took him home and doted on him like a pitiful, helpless little boy (not that he didn’t completely eat it up - not unlike tonight, but roles reversed.
“We’ve come full circle,” he snorted, running his fingers up and down her back.
“I think it was meant to be,” she giggled.
Jon hummed and pressed his forehead to hers, shutting his eyes. “I know it was.”
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literaila · 3 years
Text
tricks and tips.
loki x gn!reader. title says it all. be warned. 
*
the first time you met loki,
he was sitting in a cage. it was cold where they were keeping him, somewhere far too excluded from everything else, someplace that you barely recognized yourself. it was cold, and it was dark everywhere except the glass composure he was trapped in.
this wasn’t really a prison, you knew. it couldn’t have been a prison for him when he was just sitting there, watching you, no movement, no sound.
but still, something about the cage made you want to crawl out of your skin.
or maybe it was him.
maybe it was his eyes, the cruel words he had spoken to everyone else. he wasn’t just a man, he would remind you, he was something other.
you’d first been called in to interrogate him (having a doctorate in psychology was very useful apparently) and try to determine what his next move was. 
though within five seconds of entering the room, you wondered why anyone would think there was any move he could make in the first place. he was completely enclosed, trapped in something that looked like it could hold even the scariest of monsters. 
and well, you werent quite sure if that was him. 
though, you couldnt deny the chill that ran down your spine as his eyes watched you as you walked closer and closer, not letting any fear you might have deter you from the job you were supposed to be doing. figure out what his next move was. simple. 
“hello,” you started, a professional smile on your face. you could’ve sworn he’d flinched. “i’m y/n.” 
the only thing you got in return was a roll of his eyes, clearly fed up with you, probably with the cage, and definitely with the wall he was leaning against. 
your neck ached in sympathy. 
“you must be loki, yes?” trying again, you drew a chair that was sitting next to the cage, probably leftover from the last person that had tried to talk to him, and leaned back, waiting for whatever answer he would give. 
turns out, that didnt take long. 
“prince” he, not quite hissed but announced. his face was not any more pleasant, and it was clear he wasnt joking. 
even still, you had to put in some effort not to giggle. it wasnt as if you’d ever gotten corrected by a ‘prince’ before. or that you’d even been in the vicinity of one. 
allowing only a small twitch at the corner of your lips, you nodded seriously, opening the notebook you’d been holding. “ah yes, prince loki. i’m sorry” 
“why are you here?” he asked, leaning his head against the wall again, and closing his eyes. “another person sent to discover all my secrets? figure out what to do with someone like me?” 
it was silent for a moment, the two of you were completely alone. it was still cold, it was still dark, but this close to the prince, you could observe the slow movements he was making. you could see his face clearly, the dread unhidden from his features. 
you supposed it must be draining, to have people asking you the same things, hoping to find out something new. 
you wonder how long he’d been left alone since he’d arrived in the small prison. how long he’d been watched. 
someone more cheerful, less conceded, might be a relief. 
“well yes, i guess so.” there was no point in lying, especially considering it didnt seem like he was going to cooperate anyway. “but i’m willing to bet that it wouldnt matter even if i tried,” 
he opened his eyes at that, something new on his face. something other than the distaste he already had for you. 
“its usually not safe to make bets with me, as i’m sure my brother already told you.” he spit out the word brother. it didnt surprise you, but you still scribbled something down in the notebook you were holding. you didnt fail to notice the change in topic. 
“i actually havent spoken to him yet, just the agent who called me in. i cant seem to remember their name...” 
loki stood up then, walking around the cage, stretching out. he looked different now, less angry, maybe a bit more tired than when you’d walked in. there was nothing else in the cage. no water, no food, no bed. it would be a struggle to stay sitting for long. 
“you dont work for shield?” the prince asked, now standing in front of you. 
“god, no.” you giggled at the thought, imaging yourself in the all-black uniforms you’d seen on almost every person that had welcomed you in. “i’m just here to... interrogate you.” you made an effort to keep the cheer in your voice, not wanting him to return to the other side of the cage and ignore you for the rest of the time you were locked in here with him. 
it wouldnt make for a very good report. 
“no i suppose not...” he drawled, smirking at you with crueler eyes than before. you recognized the insult but paid no mind to it. he was locked in a glass cage, multiple levels below the ground. he had a right to be a little bitter. “now about that bet,” 
huh. maybe a game would work then. you were almost sure that he’d been purposefully trying to move past that. 
“i think, knowing that you are the god of mischief, that even if i asked questions-- and you answered --that it wouldnt be too far-fetched to say that it would be all lies.” you watched his face change, the tiny twitch of his lips. “a safe bet, i’m assuming.” 
loki sat back down, this time in the middle of the floor with his long legs crossed over each other. he was looking at you completely now, blank face. it wasnt as scary now, and you werent sure if this was the right prison for someone as calm as he seemed. 
“i’ve been told its not good to assume,” he replied, looking down to his lap. 
you nodded along, silent then. 
it was another minute after, both of you thinking completely different things, before anyone spoke. you, of course, were trying to figure out your best course of action. what you could ask to get him to say something that you could report back to the people waiting for you, what he would need to hear to actually reveal something that wasnt already known. 
it was only when you looked up and saw loki scowling once again that you decided it was best to just keep the conversation going. 
“how long have you been here, then?” 
“here, physically? only around a day or two. i cant tell what time it is.” he looked around, nodding to the black walls, the light that was only coming from the floor beneath him. “on earth? ...well, far longer than i intended to be.”
“hmm” 
loki raised a brow. “hmm?” 
you looked down at your lap, undeterred by the demand in his voice. he didnt like to not know. 
“Its just that,” you looked back up at him, offering a smile and using your hands to gesture in the air. “based on what i’ve heard of you... on the news, it seems more like you came to ‘annihilate’ us all. and, well i just figured that would take a bit longer than a couple of days?” 
you kept eye-contact with him. he was far less intimidating when he was sitting like a child. far less intimidating when his eyes werent full of murder. 
he nodded, leaning his chin on his hand, staring. “that sounds like a question.” he muttered, uninterested. he looked a bit bored, mostly tired, but still. 
“oh right,” you leaned back, distancing yourself from him and returning your eyes to the notebook. “sorry”  
loki sighed, kept silent for a moment before he saw that you werent going to say anything else. he had to know. 
“if i tell you something, will you tell me what you’re writing in that thing?” 
your eyes perked up. that was a good offer. 
“i thought it wasnt smart to make deals with the ‘god of mischief’?” you emphasised the title with a wave of your hands, hoping to get him to smile. 
just something to report, you reminded yourself. just stay long enough to get him comfortable. 
“its not,” he smirked, watching you decide. this suddenly felt a bit too much like a dare. 
and, well, you werent something who backed away from a dare. 
“okay, deal.” 
loki didnt reply, only waved a hand as if to say get on with it before yawning. he was definitely paying attention, but his show of boredom was greatly appreciated even still. 
you werent used to being told what to do with gestures, but it was clear that loki was very used to telling other people what to do with just a gesture. it was the prince in him, you supposed. didnt mean you were going to listen. 
“why am i going first?” you asked, arms crossed in front of you now. 
loki laughed, full out. he gestured around him with wide eyes, energy sudenly coming back to him. he looked much more like a prince now, than he did before. “it would seem that i’m at a bit of a disadvantage.” 
you glared at him, unmoving. “how do i know you’ll tell me anything real?” 
lies, you thought. you were very familiar with them, familiar to listening to them and familiar to dealing with them. 
“you have my word,” he promised, sincerely with a hand over his heart. 
it was definitely too much. but still, you grabbed the notebook and flipped it around so that he could see. the look on his face might’ve been just enough to make this entire day worth it. 
it was just scribbles, after all. little doodles to help keep you focused. 
but of course, the god of mischief, prince of asgard, didnt know that. 
he only stared at you, an astounding look in his eyes. and you, only smirked. copying his gesture from earlier. 
get on with it. 
“fine,” he quipped. crossing his arms over his chest. copying you now. it only made you smile wider. “i wasnt born on asgard. i also murdered my biological father.” no remorse on his face with those words, just another yawn. 
well. that wasnt expected. 
“that wasnt the deal,” you said, instead of offering any sympathy you might have. pity you knew he wouldnt want. any disgust that came with the words. he didnt want emotions, and you still needed something to report. 
you suddenly felt angry with him, and you couldnt tell why. 
“darling, i said i would tell you something. not that i would tell you anything useful.” he laid down then, right in the middle of the floor. it was ridiculous. but then you could see him closing his eyes, putting his hand over his face to block out the light. “its not like you gave me anything useful either.” he teased the words out, yawning again. 
maybe you’d misread his mischief, his distaste. 
“when was the last time you got any sleep?” you asked, instead of acknowledging anything he said. 
his face snapped up at that, the pressure in the room rising to the highest level. it seemed that you’d struck a nerve. he had been there far too long. 
“another question,” he hissed, distaste back plain and clear in his eyes, tinting his mouth. he was mad now, angry. it probably wasnt at you, you thought. it was probably at the situation, at his brother, at himself. 
you might’ve known a bit more than you’d led on. 
“when i was a kid,” you started, pleasant smile back on your face. you were in the company of a prince after all. “my mom used to tell me to think ‘happy thoughts’ to fall asleep.” you saw him wince slightly, but you werent finished. “it helped lure me to sleep, and also keep away nightmares.” 
“why are you telling me this?” he demanded, quietly. whatever he didnt like about what you were saying, it was too late to take back. 
“just in case you needed some help. or a reminder to take a nap.” 
and then someone was calling your name, leading you out of the dark room. you looked back at loki once more, another smile. 
you were sure you’d be back soon. 
and loki, well he was watching you walk away. listening to the silence you’d left behind. 
compared to any other person that had attempted to talk to him, to get something out of him. you were the most entertaining. and also slightly annoying. 
but still, he couldnt get those words out of his head. and he couldnt get the weight off his eyes. 
five minutes later, your voice in his ear, he was sound asleep against the glass wall. 
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ffeynn · 3 years
Note
hi hello ! i really like how you write, very helpful for when im daydreaming haha ~ may i request hcs for makoto yuuki with an s/o who claims to be a "grandpa in spirit"? like how rei does? (i like to think makoto starts playin along once he gets used to it...) sorry if this is oddly specific, thank you !
「 youthful romance is for this old me too: yuuki 」
a/n: and i love being helpful despite not being so helpful myself.. you can clearly see that this is self-indulgent and i might make a short fic for that part..
pairing: makoto yuuki x gn!reader
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↬ rather than surprised because of the grandpa in spirit’s claim, it was more to you claiming it. who would’ve thought he’ll meet another person similar to rei. yuuki never thought he'd have a person like you as his lover but honestly, he wouldn't have it any other way.
☆ at first, makoto was flustered. how was he supposed to react to you?! but you assured him that it was fine, him being flustered is enough reaction to brighten up your day. and.. he got flustered again. “just you being by my side is enough, no need to worry how to entertain this old me, my dear.” oh no :( how are you so sweet with your words :(( he might not survive today without turning red multiple time.
↬ sooner or later, after being with you for so long, he will grow used to it. both your grandpa spirit and the shameless acts of flirting. and yes he’ll probably play along. there were also times you said things as jokes but when makoto actually knocked on your door when it was raining, you’re the one who thinks they could cry because of how earnest your lover is.
☆ he remembered your careless remarks about singing and dancing in the rain while you two were watching ‘singing in the rain’. it was clear from the way he took out a raincoat and gave it to you (he was already wearing one). “I mean.. it wouldn’t be so fun if we get sick afterwards.” your lover said with a chuckle. if you’re usually moving slower than average then just for this time you’ll try to fasten up your pace of getting ready.
and when you linked your arm with makoto as he held the umbrella with his other hand, the rain was pouring down heavy enough for you to get in the perfect vibe. “ah, to be young again and do things impulsively, you’re threatening my inner child yuuki.” the male made a questioning noise, tilting his face toward you to let you elaborate more on the words.
you left a quick peck on his cheek and before he has time to react, you walked away from the umbrella and let the rain pour down freely on you while you thoughtlessly danced around the jogging road. makoto would stop you if it weren’t for the way you smiled like you were the happiest person in the world. just like how he threatened your inner child, you threatened his too and before he knew it, makoto was already abandoning his umbrella.
↬ when being with someone for a time long enough, it was meant for us to be alike in some way. subconsciously copying the way your s/o is and such. this fact doesn’t skip you and your lover.
☆ it’s when you observed him and noticed some changes, not much in the actions, more to the talking. no words needed, you adored the way he talks as a few elderly-like words slipped in. the way he realized his words and if you’re there, he’ll look at you with a cheeky smile flashed.
it’s when makoto observed you and noticed some changes, not much in the talking, more to the actions. this made him realize how you’ve been by his side for so long, how do he describes the way he felt when he saw you eagerly showing this new game you found and asking if he’s willing to play with you. just like you once told him, “with you, my dearest yuuki, I’m always someone in their youth.”
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Get In Losers. We’re Going Witch Hunting
I Walk in Dread- 1691(-1692), Deliverance Trembly
By Lisa Rowe Fraustino
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Don’t judge the picture. Google had no images that I felt comfortable using license wise so I took a (bad) picture of my copy.
Age of Protagonist: 12
#ReadingThoughts
-Before I even start I am digging the Puritan names. First Remember Patience and now Deliverance (and I would come to find ANOTHER MEM!!).
-My edition looses points or not having a ribbon even though it’s hardcover. This negatively impacts my reading experience for Reasons.
-Hold it. Is her uncles’ name really Razor Strap? I know Puritans were big on using random phrases from the Bible for their naming, but is that really a phrase in the Bible? Also, Sister Mem had me confused it was Mem from the last book for a hot second.
-SO do Mem and Deliverance just live with their uncle? Just the three of them? (The answer I quickly found was yes.)
-I appreciate the lesson on town politics. That's important for the Salem area in 1692ish.
-I am confused by what’s happening with the year. Why is it Dec 31, 1691, then Jan. 1, 1691, and then Jan. 2, 1691/2. There is a bullshit explanation in the about the author section. If you’re worried about Accuracy when it comes to the Julian vs Gregorian calendar, put something in the text. You’re average grade schooler isn’t going to jump to that . If I remember correctly, there’s something about the Gregorian calendar differing from the Julian calendar in the Anastasia book that is handled better. Liv explains other things to the reader, why not this?
-Why is a 12 year old more responsible than a 17 year old? Especially in 1692. Mem should at least have a higher opinion of herself in the family hierarchy and be preparing to keep her own house as a wife.
-Again, I feel Mem should be more mature than Liv.
-Liv can use her sister’s boy-craziness to her advantage. Mem is willing to shovel shit if there are attractive members of the opposite sex in the vicinity.
-Allergies=Witchcraft. That explains so much about me and my life. Though I suppose it makes sense from a 17th century Puritan POV.
-Mem wants to be a stepmom to 9 kids all of whom are most likely closer to her age than she would be to the potential husband?  The last part might not be a big concern in the time period but good gracious that’s too many kids for my liking.
-Age update- some of the kids would be older than her or her age.
-I feel the average target reader would need an explanation of what “God’s Elect” means. Most 12 year olds don’t have a strong grasp on post-Reformation Protestant Theology.
-Poor Liv. She wants to fit un but is failing spectacularly.
-Is Liv going to be among the accused? She’s not on the best of terms with the accusers and has been or will be associated with at least three people who were accused and killed.
- They used the strong trick for loose teeth in the 17th century? I have no evidence or data to argue one side or the other but I am suspicious. Somewhat amused, but suspicious.
-I find the tithing man hilarious. I want a stick with a fuzzy rabbit foot on one end and a knob for whacking people on the other. Also, he deserved getting thumped back by the one guy,
-I am calling bullshit on Goody Corey sniffing out only girl scent. Either it’s a bit or she’s a witch, not her husband. (Spoilers: He’s accused and refuses to confess so the town can’t take his land and is pressed to death while trying to get a confession. Post reading note: I totally forgot/didn’t know that Goody Corey was also accused and killed.)
-I don’t know really anything about the real Goody Corey, but she seems like a stand-in for an enlightened modern person, above the provincial notions of witchcraft and the commonplace racism toward Amer Indians. I’m not saying everyone thought they were the devil, but a majority thought that they were superior to the indigenous peoples of the American colonies.
-Mr. Cooper’s letter is too vague! We need deets!
-Because this is told through Livs’ eyes everyone asking about their uncle and checking in on them comes off as invasive and nosy but as an adult, a twelve year old and a seventeen year old have been left on a farm by themselves for almost two months at this point is an issue. Is he ever coming back?
-WHAT!? Goody Corey has a bi-racial son born when she was estranged from her first husband? Prepare for a wikipedia tangent because I had to a a google to corroborate this. Wikepedia backs this up but what it doesn’t back up is the timeline. I read her as in her 40s or 50s in the book. According to wikepedia (don’t judge me, it’s good for basic facts and a starting point) she was 72ish in 1692 and this biracial son was her first child who would have been 50ish at this point and was born before Martha Corey was ever married. *End Tangent* Good for her though if she did indeed five her husband an earful after Liv left.
-Hold on. Mr. Cooper wants to talk to Uncle Razor Strap about Mem marrying Darcy, not him. Mem is gonna be devastated.
-Would electricity have been a concept a) known in 1692 and b) be well enough known that a random 12 year old in the colonies with little formal schooling would be comfortable enough using the phrase “electrical lightning.” No, I will not be googling this. Googling historical facts is one thing, googling sciencey things is another thing entirely,
-Did the girls hear the stories and then claim to have witnessed ZYX or did they independently corroborate the stories? One is much less suspect than the other.
-At this point I wonder will we ever meet Uncle Razor Strap? Is he dead? Is he trying to get back to Salem? Is he abandoning them?
-I feel the leap to “Am I a witch?” after having a weird dream about nursing a baby Sarah Goode is sensible as someone who has been about to call the Vatican several times when their period was late. In those cases clearly the only explanation was pregnancy, even when physically impossible just as being a witch is Livs’ conclusion here. 
-Hopefully the girls can just get out of the Salem area soon and the landlord giving them to the end of the month is a neat enough excuse.
-So Mem thinks that Goody Corey is a witch but is okay with Liv going over there?
-How scary it would be to worry that the one family member you have in the area, who should be protecting you because you’re 12, might accuse you of witchcraft.
-I am delighted the the horse can act as a chaperone. Really? Okay.
-How does the horse give permission to whisk a fainted person into the house? It’s a horse.
-So now Mem is forcing Liv to read her diary to her. Rude.
Thoughts on the Afterward
Meh. Mem marries Darcy but dies young so Liv gets her man. They return to Salem. They don’t go West like they talked about. Liv has a gagillion great grands. No one ever fount her journal. Meh. I’m happy she was happy and all but meh.
Overall Thoughts After Reading
It took almost 200 pages to get through four months. I think I just don’t care for the author. I should have liked this book. It ticks multiple boxes that should be my jam but something about it just... is a no for me. Maybe it’s because I have zero nostalgia for this book. It took me about 4.5 months to get through this book and finding it boring is one of them. No one seems like a well rounded character who has any growth. Last book Mem had a whole arc where she came to terms with losing her mother  but this time Liv didn’t really seem to change or grow.
I had high hopes. This book came out right as I was aging out of Dear America but I remember the hype around it on the Scholastic website. (Yes I was a wee nerd who hung out on the Scholastic website.) Sadly I was disappointed.
Also, we nope out of the actual trials. The first trial wasn’t held until JUNE. The book ends on April 30. Yes, we get to see the initial hysteria and flurry of accusations and arrests, but this was just the beginning. This seems like a cop-out.
Rating: 3/10 Sisterly Cat-Fights
Other contenders included False Accusations (this one seemed unfair because while I believe no one who was accused of witchcraft during the Salem Witch Hysteria was actually practicing witchcraft, I can’t say with confidence that the accusers were all lying. They may have believed honestly that they were afflicted by witches so calling them false accusations seem disingenuous.) and Bible Verses because Puritans. In the end, I had to honor the brutal way Mem and Live went after each other. Apparently in addition to being sickly, Mem was also small because how else could a 12 year old take her 17 year old sister like that. 
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inkedtae · 4 years
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kiss it better ⇾ pjm. [M]
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𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ boyfriend!jimin x reader (f.)
𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ requested, post-argument, jealousy, smut, angst, and a sprinkle of fluff
𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ 18+
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾  after a heated argument rooted from jealousy and misunderstandings, you kiss it all better.
𝓈𝑜𝓃𝑔 ⇾ kiss it better ~ rihanna
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 5k
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!jimin, possessive!jimin, needy!jimin, rough to soft sex, car sex, make-up sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (wrap’em up folks), sir kink, degradation, overstimulation, slight humiliation, multiple orgasms (m. and f.), creampie, dirty talk, slight choking, fingering, spanking, squirting, hair pulling, throat-fucking, oral (m. and f. receiving), lowkey filth
𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i may have changed the entire plot last minute based on a dream i had. jimin is a wild, needy boi in this, like damn! please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. if you have any requests, please send’em. enjoy!
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Despite the hum of the engine, the car was silent. You stared out the passenger’s window, blinking back tears and trying to get lost in the rosey skies above. Quiet sniffles left you from time to time, earning you annoyed sighs from Jimin. You ignore them, sniffling louder just to further piss him off. 
“I don’t why the hell you’re crying,” he mumbled under his breath. “You embarrassed me tonight.”
There he went again, playing the victim like the role was made for him. He had been acting distant and cryptic the last few weeks, coming home late and leaving much earlier than you knew he needed to. Every time you pointed it out, he’d brush you off with the same excuse; work was busy. He never specified how busy or when he’d think he’d be able to make more time for you. You hadn’t even properly had dinner with him in a while. You were itching for his presence, his voice, his touch. You guys did it, sure, but it wasn’t the same. He always seemed lost in his own world and most of the time they were just quickies you two managed to squeeze into his “busy” schedule. 
So, when he mentioned a party at the office you insisted that he take you. You wanted to know what the hell all that busy work was. He tried to fight you on it, telling you that it’s last minute and he won’t be gone for long but you wouldn’t hear any of it. You told him that if he wouldn’t be gone for long then there was no reason for you not to tag along as well. He ran out of excuses after that.
“So, now you want to talk?” you bitterly asked. You didn’t bother to look at him, wiping away a straying tear. One glimpse at his pissed off face would just turn you on. Yes, Jimin was terrifying when he was mad, but he looked so fucking hot too. You couldn’t risk giving into him like that, not without making him earn it first anyway. From the way he sighed, you could tell that he was rolling his eyes. “And you say I'm the one with the attitude,” you muttered.
A dry chuckle left him as he replied, “that’s cause you are, (Y/N). You’re the biggest brat I know.”
“Are you kidding me?” you asked as you turned to face him. “You’re the one that has been pouty for weeks. You sulk in and out of every room and you’re the one that embarrassed yourself tonight. Had you just listened when I tried to-”
He cut you off, raising his voice as he corrected, “You were literally pressed up against him. Not only is he my friend, but I work with that guy! It’s embarrassing for my coworkers to think that my girlfriend is whoring herself out to the office.”
“Whoring myself out?” The hurt in your tone made him flinch, but he didn’t try to retract what he said. You gave him another chance to, remaining silent for a moment. “What the fuck is your problem, Jimin?” you hissed. “Why would you even say that? If you honestly think that little of me then why the hell are we still together?” You didn’t think, just said the first thing that came to mind. You wanted to hurt him like he hurt you, instantly regretting that thought when you saw the panic in his eyes. 
You knew he didn’t want to lose you and you didn’t want to lose him either. You loved him; he was probably the one guy you could ever really be in love with. He took care of you in ways no man had ever thought to do or even been able to. There have been times when you were clearly in the wrong, this time not being one of them, and he still was the one to apologize first just so he could seek your presence again. However, despite this, his tone and words could not be forgiven so easily. 
Jimin signalled to pull over, making you shift in your seat. Before you could ask what was going on, he turned off the car and looked at you. “Is that what you want?” he asked. He tried to hide it but you could hear the pain in his voice, fearing you might say yes. 
“Of course not,” you replied. He turned away from you, letting out a sigh of relief, and moved to start the car once more. You placed your hand over his arm, stopping him. “We’re not done. Where the fuck is all this coming from?”
He rubbed his nose, sniffling a bit before shrugging. You tilted your head to try to meet his gaze but he turned to look out his window. He was stubborn, but you were determined, adamant on finding out what the hell was wrong right here, right now. 
“You can’t go around flirting with guys I work with, (Y/N). It’s embarrassing for me to watch. You were basically pressing your body against his.” You opened you mouth to defend yourself, but he quickly continued, “And what the fuck was that whole work husband thing about with Hoseok?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t talk to Hoseok tonight.” 
He raised a brow at you, causing you to widen your eyes as a means of urging him to give more context. “At the party Jungkook threw a few weeks ago,” he said. When your face still reflected confusion he added, “You know Jungkook, the guy you were dry humping in front of the entire office?” 
“I was not! He had something in his eye!” you shouted for what felt like the hundredth time, groaning in frustration when he rolled his eyes and brushed you off.
He nodded condescendingly, “sure, sure. Now, just answer the question.”
You huffed, clenching your jaw. He was finally talking to you about it and you didn’t want to ruin your chances of finding out what the fuck was going on with him so bit back any bitter words. You looked back at the dashboard, trying to remember the last party you two went to. It was weeks ago; you barely remembered who you talked to. You paused for a second, slowly turning back to face him as it all started to click. “Is that why you’ve been in such a mood? Because of two stupid words?” You didn’t mean to sound as patronizing as you did, but the entire situation was just ridiculous to you. You loved him. You told him that everyday. Why would he ever think to doubt that?
Jimin was not impressed with your words or tone. He scoffed at you, shaking his head as he went to start the car once more. You acted quickly, pulling the keys from the ignition and tossing them in the back seat. His face only further expressed his disappointment as he glared at you. 
“You’re not funny. Go get them now.” He was practically growling at you, and usually that would’ve been enough to have you reach back there and get the keys then beg him to fuck you. But, you didn’t want to give in. All this shit was going to end tonight. 
“No.”
Jimin opened the car door then slammed it shut, without another word or even glance towards you. You watched him walk away, thinking he was surely going to turn back and get the keys himself. But he didn’t. “He can’t seriously be thinking about walking home,” you muttered to yourself as he continued to stomp down the side of the road. 
With a sigh, you got out of the car and shut the door. Hearing the slam only made him walk fast. “Jimin!” You called, jogging after him. “Jimin, get back here! We’re not done!”
The crunch of gravel he left behind was all that met you. You huffed, stomping your foot. You probably looked like a child having a tantrum with the scowl on your lips, tears staining your face and hands fisted by your side. “Park Jimin, get your prideful ass back here now or I’ll… I’ll…” You trailed off not really sure what to say. There wasn’t much you could hold against him and not much you wanted to anyways. All you really wanted to do was get his attention. 
Jimin froze in his place before slowly turning around. There wasn’t too much distance between you, maybe only a few meters, but you still felt the withering heat of his glare. You pressed your thighs together as you watched him stalk towards you. 
“You’ll what?” he questioned. You slowly began to walk backwards as you noticed his pace wasn’t slowing down in the slightest as he further approached you. “What will you do? Flirt with more of my friends? I have Hoseok’s number if you wanna get together with your husband. You liked it when he called you his wife, didn’t you?”
“I used to work with him Jimin,” you explained as he continued to walk towards you, body already towering over yours. “That’s all it was. You don’t seriously think that I would want to marry him, do you?” The backs of your legs hit the front end of the car. You fell back against the hood as Jimin pressed himself against you. 
His hands gripped onto your waist, sitting you up a bit as he hovered his lips over yours. “He shouldn’t be calling you his regardless of that fact. And you shouldn’t be having anyone else press themselves against you but me.” He spoke in a whisper, spitting the words out like a threat. 
“No one even touched me tonight, Jim-” you started only to have him pull you up and turn you over on the hood of the car. “What-”
He smacked your ass twice, gripping the flesh when he was done. “Don’t lie, slut,” he warned. 
Whines left you as a felt a rush of arousal ruin your panties, making you press your legs together once more. “He had something in his eye, I swear. I was just helping him,” you explained, voice sounding as desperate as when you beg for him.
Jimin pulled you back up by a sudden grip on your hair, making you moan. Your now stinging ass was pressed against his growing erection. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know it was all an act to get a better look at your tits, baby,” he whispered into your ear. 
You shook your head quickly. “I promise I didn’t know, Jim- Ah!” you cried out as his hand came down on your ass again. You pushed it back against his crotch, attempting to soothe the sting as you rubbed it against him. 
His grip moved from your hair to your neck, lips kissing and licking around your ear before he whispered, “Is that how you’re supposed to address me, little brat?”
A moan left your lips as he gave into your needy actions and slowly rubbed your ass. “I’m sorry, sir,” you breathed, leaning back into his touch. 
He bit on your earlobe, growling his approval. You were about to close your eyes and get lost in his touch when you saw headlines coming up. Jimin must’ve seen them too, pulling you away from the front of the car and leading you to the side, away from any possible prying eyes. He pressed you roughly against the passenger door, both of you silently watching as the car passed by, his hand coming down on your ass just for his own amusement. You gasped a moan, relishing in the sting of the smack. Your panties were definitely sticking to your folds at this point, your wetness seeping through.
He moved his hand from your ass to your zipper, unzipping the strapless pink dress and pushing it down your frame. Braless, you remained pressed up against the car, breasts against the window. “If you’re gonna act like a slut, then I’m gonna treat you like one,” he seethed.
“Sir, please, I didn’t-” 
He laid another three hard smacks on your ass. Gasping cries tore through your throat as you gripped onto the edge of the car, tears pricking your eyes from the buzzing sting. He soothed the pain by rubbing his crotch against your cheeks. You felt his huge cock hardening from the action and it made you quiver, closing your eyes to rest your temple on the car. 
“Who the fuck gave you permission to speak, slut?” he questioned before roughly turning you around and lowering you to your knees. He positioned your fallen dress under you so the gravel wasn’t too hard on your skin. 
You stared up at him, blinking your tears away to get a better look at him. He wiped your tears away then tangled his hands in your hair. He massaged your scalp tenderly, smirking down at you, before his grip got harsh again. “Are you waiting for an invitation?” he spat, bringing your face closer to his clothed hard.
Your hands worked fast, a whine escaping you from the rough grip on your hair. You pouted up at him as you reached into his pants for his cock. You were determined to be bratty and show him that nothing was forgotten until you set your sights on his cock. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, had it shoved down your throat or buried in your pussy, the size never failed to shock you. All your anger towards him shifted to full blown lust as you admired his girth. Even in the peachy glow of the setting sun, he was just as intimidating. 
Jimin held onto his shaft, the sudden action reminding you what you were on your knees for. You opened your mouth wide to accept it, but he angled the tip of his cock around the corner of your lips, swiping away all the drool you didn’t realize you were dribbling. He applied the wetness around your lips, smearing his precum too. You moaned at the taste, holding his dark gaze. He was smirking all too sinfully, relishing in the neediness of your cock-hungry state. 
He then slipped his shaft in your mouth, throwing his head back at the warmth of your tongue. You sucked on him slowly while swirling your tongue around his tip. You wanted to savour his taste, the way his cock felt in your mouth. A wet smack left your lips as his cock did and he sighed, looking down at you again. His grip on your hair was hard, but he gently nudged you towards his cock again.
You pushed his hand off his dick and replaced it with your own, He took to leaning that hand on the car window, gazing down at you patiently. You slowly pumped him, shoving a good amount of him in your mouth and hollowing your cheeks. Gradually, you bobbed your head faster and faster, matching the speed of your mouth to that of your hand. 
Jimin was having trouble staying quiet. He previously didn’t want to give you any satisfaction of hearing him get off to your mouth, but the way you were looking up at him, eyes basically thanking him for the chance to suck him off, he couldn’t help himself. He groaned out a breathy moan, pouty lips parting in awe of your skills. His hips buckled up into your mouth, making you gag from the sudden action. You dropped your hand, clasping them behind your back, knowing the procedure he liked when he wanted to throat fuck you. 
He gripped your hair with both his hands now, using it as a means to bring your head up and down his cock. The unholy sounds of your gags and choked moans mixed with his growling groans filled the empty road. Your eyes burned with salty tears and jaw ached from the constant stain of accommodating his big size. You could feel his cock bulging out of your throat, squeezing its way through your walls.
“Ughmm,” Jimin growled, gazing down at you with that familiar look in his eye. “Pretty little mouth,” he hissed as his cock twitched. He unloaded without any further warning, holding your face flushed against his pelvic bone as he released his warm cum down your throat. “Ah, baby.”
His grip on your head softened and you pulled back. He was still cumming, but you needed to breathe. You couldn’t possibly swallow without getting a breath in first. His cum shot all over your neck and chest, leaking down to your nipples as you gasped for air. He was pumping himself dry, purposefully aiming his load all over your torso. 
“Who’s mess are you, baby?” he smirked, breathless and amused by the image before him. 
You licked around your lips, moaning at the taste of him, and replied, “Yours, sir.”
He nodded, brushing the pad of his thumb along the tip of his nose as he admired you for a moment longer. “Stand up, sweetheart,” he ordered sweetly. He was smiling now, cock still out and softening a bit. 
You unclasped your hands from your back and pushed yourself up. You couldn’t decide if he was ready to talk now or if he still wanted to punish you for whatever it was he thought you did with Jungkook and Hoseok. He looked up and down the road then grabbed your wrist and led you back to the hood of the car. You gave him a warning look to which he raised a brow. 
“What are-” 
He pushed you back against the hood, spreading your legs and tugging them up to rest on his shoulders. He slapped a hard smack on your clothed pussy lips. “Just when I thought I was going to reward you for such a good job,” he murmured, still admiring his work on your breasts. “Can you not follow a simple order, baby?” 
You knew he was giving into you, falling for every pouty look you gave him. He couldn’t resist you for too long, probably why he kept leaving when he was mad at you during the last few weeks. He had told you many times that there was a special place in his heart just dedicated to you. There wasn’t anything he could deny you for too long with that place carved out just for you. It didn’t stop him from trying though.
He pushed your drenched red panties aside, giggling to himself at how wet you were just from him throat-fucking you. Your back rested onto the hood of the car and you hissed from the cold. He immediately distracted you from it though, rubbing his thick lips between your folds. “Fuck!” you gasped, hands trying to get lost in his previously neatly styled hair. 
He smirked against your heat. His tongue darted out, lapping up all the arousal you collected around your entrance. He’d poke it in just to tease you, to hear you cry out his name. Your throat was already sore from his previous fun, but you couldn’t contain the pleasure. 
He pulled away, repositioning your legs so that he was holding the joint behind your knees. He used his new grip to spread your legs wide then dipped his head back down. He unleashed a whole new side of him as he ate your pussy with a degree of fervor you’ve never witnessed before. He shook his head, blubbering his lips against your clit, causing vibrations that made your body tremble with ecstasy. 
His real work came when he shoved his tongue in your pussy, swirling it around, digging for more of your sweetness. You moaned out his name over and over again, eyes rolling back and your hips moved with his movements. He darted his tongue in and out of your pussy, tongue fucking you ruthlessly while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit. He was practically snorting your juices at this point, smearing your wetness all over his chin and jaw. 
You squealed, screaming out as you got closer and closer. “I-I’m cumming,” you told him, not even bothering to ask for permission since you knew you would not be able to hold your orgasm back for any longer. You released more than just your cum on his tongue, squirting uncontrollably all over his face. Jimin jolted back a bit, your juices drenching his dress shirt and pants, even spraying over his hard-again cock
He sat up, moving a hand from your leg to your pussy. His thumb worked fast circles around your clit, helping you ride out your high, while his other hand unbuttoned his shirt. He gazed down at your quivering frame and split legs, as you whimpered your pleasure out through broken fragments of words. You finally pushed his hand away, pulling your legs together and into your chest, shivering from the remains of your orgasm.
Jimin took off his shirt, exposing his toned abs and tattoos to the cold air. He stared at you with that disappointed expression from earlier as he spread your legs apart again and pushed two fingers into your tight hole, despite your mewls about you being too sensitive. 
“Look at me,” he ordered. You whined but propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with half lids. The setting glow of the was like a halo around his frame as he stood over you. He looked absolutely heavenly, like an angel sent to ruin you. But the hurt in his eyes pulled you back to reality and silenced any other bratty complaints you were about to throw out just to piss him off. 
“Tell me the truth, baby,” he all but begged. “Did you know what he was up to?”
You shook your head immediately. However, that silent answer did not satisfy his curiosities. He slid his fingers deep in you, curling up to push against your favourite spot. You threw your head back, crying out, “No, fuck, I didn’t know, sir.” 
“None of the sir shit, (Y/N). Tell me the truth,” he growled, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. 
You looked back at him, pushing yourself to sit up properly. You leaned back on your hands for support as you stared back into his eyes. You opened your mouth to explain when you heard a car coming up the road. You looked at Jimin, expecting him to release you but he didn’t. He continued to hold your gaze, that stubbornness making a reappearance. 
Your head snapped to the car, catching the familiar pairs of eyes of Jungkook, Hoseok, and Taehyung. They all stared at your bodies with jaws slack, including Hoseok who was driving the car and hadn’t looked through the windshield for a considerable amount of time. Your face flushed red from embarrassment, and you whined out in frustration, looking back to Jimin angrily. 
“Oh,” he hummed sarcastically. “Did I humiliate you, baby?” 
You glared at him as your hips went against your anger and rolled into his hand. He smirked, scoffing at how pathetic you were being. “If you’d swallow your fucking pride, you’d know that I’ve been telling you the truth, Jimin!” you whimpered, cursing yourself for how needy you sounded. 
He met your gaze again, but didn’t say anything. He silently searched your eyes for the answer he was looking for. Your features softened as you caught another glimpse of the pain that swam in his eyes. You bit your lip and placed your hand over his, trying to push it away. He finally complied, pulling his fingers out and was about to wipe them on his pants. 
You caught his hand, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. You didn’t lick and suck at them like he expected you to. Instead, you kissed them. You placed sweet kisses all over his hand, to his wrist, up his arm, pulling him closer to kiss his shoulder. You kissed his collarbone, moving up his neck and jawline, placing kisses anywhere you saw fit. You could taste yourself all over him, but suppressed the urge to moan. This wasn’t about your desires; it was about his. 
You couldn’t believe how selfish you were being. You’ve been pouty and bratty with him too the last few weeks, nagging him about not being around enough. You didn’t take a moment to realize he was yearning for you too. He craved you and you denied him that, making him think you wanted his friends more. His ego wasn’t bruised, you realized. It was his heart. 
Jimin stood between your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as his chest was flush against yours. His cum was smeared over the two of you now. You hovered your lips over his, gazing lovingly into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice slightly raspy. It never really fully recovered from that intense throat fuck. “Let me make it up to you,” you begged. “Let me make it right, baby.”
His hands slid down to your hips, pulling them up so that he could align himself with your entrance. His tip poked at your pussy as his lips finally pressed against yours softly. You moaned quietly as he pushed himself in, slowly splitting your pussy while rolling his hips around yours. 
You tangled your hand in his hair and wrapped your legs around his waist. You crossed your ankles, wanting to lock him in your hold forever as your tongues swiped gentle tastes of each other. You pulled away a bit, making him moan needily and chase after your lips. You smiled at the sound. 
He rested his forehead against yours, letting you have your way while he had his. The moment he bottomed out, he began thrusting into you, grinding his hips against yours. He moved his entire body into yours, over and over again, rolling his torso until his hips followed. This, this was how he destroyed your pussy and heart all at once. 
You reattached your lips to his, playing with his tongue while he played with your pussy. You felt yourself clenching around him tighter with every one of his body roll thrusts. 
Jimin broke the kiss this time, pecking the tip of your nose before whispering, “look at me when you cum, baby.”
You tried to keep your eyes open as your stomach knotted so deliciously. Your peaking moans mixed with his breathy growls, and you knew in that moment that that was what love sounded like - or at least, what your love sounded like. 
His cock twitched but he refused to cum before you, a hand leaving the grip he had on your hip to rub fast circles on your clit again. You came within seconds of that extra stimulation, already on edge. You held his gaze like he asked, and squealed his name repeatedly. He couldn’t hold back much longer either, filling your pussy up like he did your mouth not too long ago. 
He continued to roll his hips into yours, even after you began to mewl from the overstimulation. His lips found yours again, kissing you with the same amount of passion he just fucked you with. You were overwhelmed to say the least, whining against his lips as you tried to squirm out of his hold. He chuckled a bit when you pulled away, moaned, “please. It’s just too much, Jiminie.”
Jimin pulled out, watching your cum mixed cum leak out onto the hood of the car. You blushed, gasping and going to close your legs when he held them open, wanting to see the kind of mess he’d made of your pussy. 
“Don’t bother putting your dress back on,” he said as he lifted you off after he decided he had seen enough for now. He reached down and picked up his shirt before carrying you back to the passenger’s side. He set you down and handed you the shirt with a sweet smile. 
Before he could circle around the car, you pulled him in for another kiss. “You know I love you,” you whispered. “I will always love you.”
He tried to keep his lips together as he smiled and nodded. “Yes, baby, I know. I love you too.” He gave you another kiss before backpedaling to the driver’s side, eyes bouncing up and down your figure. 
You blushed, shaking your head at him. After picking up your dress, you hopped into the car, tossing your clothes in the back where he went to retrieve the keys you threw. 
Jimin started the car once he was settled in his seat. He reached for your hand as he began driving, bringing your knuckles to his lips for a tender kiss. Staring out the windshield, you couldn’t help but blush as you saw your cum staining the hood of your car. You sat beside him in nothing but your soiled panties and him in those ruined pants he will probably never wear again. 
“You still mad?”
He kissed your hand, shaking his head, and whispered against your skin, “all better.”
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bakujho · 4 years
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Strap in folks, it’s rant time.
So, let's talk a bit about manipulation and abuse present in fandom. It’s uncomfortable, but fuck it lets go, I’m tired of the “good vibes only” push that sweeps all this shit under the rug. I’m not pretending to be an expert by a longshot here and I’m happy to discuss, but I have dealt with enough abusive and manipulative people personally and professionally to spot em a fucking mile away and generally keep my distance. Unfortunately, I’ve noticed a gross trend where there are people being attacked, then are guilted into keeping quiet because the Abusers make it seem like it’s not worth mentioning or that it doesn’t really matter... Unfortunately, the Abusers know exactly what they’re doing, they’re really fucking good at it, and they know exactly the kind of response they’re going to receive (because in some cases, this isn’t the first fandom they’ve pulled this same shit in). 
Right off the bat though, lets get some basic facts about fandom out of the way. No one in fandom owns any character: be it interactions, personality or anything else about said character. No fandom creator owns an idea, or has any right to tell people off for having similar ideas/techniques/styles etc. There’s no such thing as a completely original singular thought, and pretty sure if you think of something ‘original’, there’s inspiration from another source. No one owns a hairstyle, a costume, a backstory, a colour scheme, an item, a scar etc etc. If someone has a similar thing, neat, clearly you’ve got similar tastes. If someone has a carbon copy of your creation on multiple points, ABSOLUTELY question it, but having the same hairstyle isn’t copyright infringement, and having a similar history isn’t ripping someone off, it’s coincidence. 
Going to put the rest under the cut, CW for manipulation tactics, abuse, and all those sorts of goodies.
So, I’ll start with the Abusers here. Everyone knows who they are, they know who they are, unfortunately the victims of them are worried about speaking out because, for the most part, the ones abusing people are in a position of perceived power and speaking out against them can put the victim in a tricky position. No one wants to be ousted from a fandom they enjoy for speaking out against someone that’s been around fandom since its inception. Which brings me to my first point.
Power: Abusers LOVE the feeling of having power (be it follower count, general clout, perceived hierarchy etc) and get really uncomfortable when they feel someone new comes to threaten their position. So, what do these people do in that situation? Option A is to completely ignore and hope they’re not dethroned, Option B is befriend immediately and subtly manipulate the person to keep a close eye on their actions. Keep your friends close, but enemies closer amirite? 
So how the fuck does a person subtly manipulate another person, shouldn’t it be obvious? Fuck man, I wish. But there’s a lot of different techniques used to keep people reigned in and submissive: guilt tripping, evasion/diversion, attention seeking, lying, intimidation, playing the victim etc etc. So obviously these will all present differently based on the abuser, but the goal of all of them is the same. To stay in power, and keep control over everything they can. 
So how would all of these present online? (of course these examples leave some wiggle room for context lost in text/translation/cultural differences etc, but for the most part it all fits the same pattern that the abuser would use in a face to face situation). 
Guilt- tripping: “Well you wouldn’t be here if not for me” “You owe me for your place in the fandom” “well if we really were friends you’d do this for me…” etc etc. Things that pit your emotional attachment to the Abuser against you, the closer you are, the easier it is. Suddenly the Victim finds themselves indebted to the Abuser for their ‘friendship’ that the Victim didn’t realize was conditional. 
Shaming: Invalidating the victims feelings by saying things like “even a child knows better than this”, “it’s okay you don’t understand, you’re probably young”, “I’ve been around fandom longer so I know how things go” etc etc. It makes the Victim feel like they’ve done something wrong by drawing boundaries for themselves, or sticking up for themselves. Remember, the Abuser doesn’t want to lose their crown so they will talk down to their Victims to make them more unsure of their stance, second guess themselves, and feel bad that they spoke up in the first place. 
Projection: “Others have done X to me, I would NEVER do the same” It’s a simple yet effective tactic. The Abuser takes the things they’ve done to people, say it happened to them, and shift the blame to the now faceless enemy so the Victim feels obligated to side with the abuser because, yea, those things mentioned fucking SUCK and no one wants to experience it. No one wants to be that asshole saying “no you deserved it” (because no one fucking deserves to be doxxed, swatted, hacked, etc etc)
Playing-the-victim: Abusers LOVE playing this game. It’s their bread and butter to set the stage for manipulation. “Having a really hard time rn, sorry im such a fuckup”, “struggling with mental health”, “this is all so hard for me” (legit though, if you are struggling please seek help where/when you can, mental health is important). So any of these statements alone can be harmless, and overlooking someone's mental health can have dangerous outcomes, HOWEVER, when these sort of statements are paired with the other things mentioned, it’s no longer simply a vent or a way to work past personal demons, it’s a way to gain sympathy and support, and it is very intentionally done to garner that emotional response from those that will listen to them. 
Attention-Seeking: can be as simple as “no one interacts with me anymore”, making a dramatic vague post, deleting that same post and making a newer, more dramatic post but this time seeking affirmation from the good responses of the last post, posting cryptic messages that ooze “ask me what happened” (vaguebooking is a plague), basically anything that is asking for a response without asking. How is it manipulative though? Guilt. If you’re aware of the Abuser, these types of posts are meant to abuse the Victim's sense of empathy, the natural response to these sorts of posts is “what happened, I’m sorry that happened to you”. 
Diversion/Evasion: straight up changing the subject or switching the blame to anywhere BUT the Abuser. The Abuser says “change X you’re copying me”, the Victim responds “I feel I didn’t copy you”, and the Abuser presses “well the fandom might not think so” and changes it from a personal issue to a larger, more aggressive problem. In this case, the Abuser is the ONLY one with a problem, but are purposely misleading the victim to take the blame off themselves. It’s not THEIR problem, it’s the FANDOMS problem...now making it the Victims problem. 
Blame: Abusers love to blame everyone BUT themselves for their perceived problems. Fandom isn’t interacting with them as much? It’s the fandom that’s dying. More drama in the fandom? Well there’s too many people here now. Getting called out for bad behavior? That’s the problem of the person who CLEARLY doesn’t understand how fandom must work. It’s the age old tale of “I’m perfect, it’s obviously everyone else who is wrong”. At what point does the Abuser realize that they may be the cause for their own misery? They don’t. 
Intimidation: This is a fun one that’s usually a last resort because if the Abuser is pretending to be a sheep caught in a snowstorm, it doesn’t look good for them to publicly announce they’ve been the wolf the whole time. It looks like “well I have X on you”, “if you only knew what I could say about you”, and “I could ruin you” type shit. Of course, in most cases, the Victim hasn’t done anything to warrant this sort of aggression, but the queen is losing her pawns and is now grasping for anything to fight back with. And who knows what sort of lengths the Abuser has gone to to gain information on the victim. It’s pretty easy to find out a lot about a person online, so the Victims back down due to the threat of the unknown.
Avoidance: refusing to talk about the problem, which is an issue I have with fandom itself, in this case. The “no drama good vibes only” is so fucking detrimental when there are problems that need to be addressed. An Abuser will push the narrative that they’re only here for a good time and don’t want drama, while actively creating drama in the shadows. Its not a problem if we don’t talk about it, right? If no one knows, it’s fine. It’s fine. No, it’s manipulative, and if there are problems they NEED to be talked about, because that’s how you find resolutions. 
Denial: This one ties in with avoidance and blame, in that the Abuser will straight up deny that they’ve ever been, or have ever created a problem. The Victim is making a big deal from nothing, they can’t control how others feel about them, so they’ve done nothing wrong. The Abuser will claim they had the best intentions when approaching someone, so clearly they have done nothing wrong. 
Lying: Including omitting any information from arguments that may paint the Abuser in a bad light. The Abuser absolutely doesn’t want anyone to find out what they’re up to, so they’ll say exactly what they need to to change the narrative surrounding them. It could be minor changes to conversations to complete fabrications. Ex “I only approached X to make sure they were okay after X happened”, but X screenshots tell a completely different story. It’s not always easy to catch an Abuser in a lie, especially when there’s the push for “no drama” so no one talks about their personal experiences and can confirm/deny what was/reported to be said. 
So bringing all of those points together and bringing it back to the Abuser wanting to have the power to control what they like/don’t like in fandom. Once they have that feeling of invincibility, they may coyly ask people to delete posts that could lead back to them looking bad, politely ask another creator to change their creation because the Abuser doesn’t like it, or them asking nicely to stop interacting with another member of fandom the Abuser doesn’t like. It may not seem like much at a first glance...after all they asked nicely. However, once you look a little harder and a little longer, it becomes very clear that the intention is to stay in control. The Abuser will do ANYTHING to stay on top, and will employ every trick they have in their arsenal to sew discord and mistrust amongst other members of the fandom to keep the fingers pointed anywhere but at themselves.
So, sound familiar to anyone? My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about the topic. If I’ve now made you uncomfortable and you’re going to unfollow/block, cheers, wish you the best. And if you’re feeling called out and attacked by my post? GOOD, stop being a fucking shitty person. 
A few last reminders before adding some resources:
Setting and enforcing personal boundaries is not abuse.
Choosing not to interact with those who make you uncomfortable is not rude.
It is important to call out abuse when you encounter it, it could save someone from becoming a victim themselves.
Always stand up for yourself, you’re your own best advocate. 
Now for some resources: I used a few of these while researching along with my old textbooks from my psych, abnormal psych, and human relations classes I took back in university.
Manipulation tactics
How to recognize a guilt trip
How to spot an attention seeker
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tojiverse · 3 years
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toji with a special grade sorcerer!reader (implied exes) and instead of encountering w satosugu he fights reader
so i feel like anon wants this more in an angst direction (?) so i will be writing angst today!
warning: spoilers (if ur anime only? also spoilers for this arc as well the star vessel arc) violence angst
word count | 1.8k
When you saw him it was as if time had stopped, how ironic as your cursed technique allowed you to do such within your own control.
“Toji...” You whispered out before being snapped back to reality, you had the vessel and along with the boys you needed to make sure they got where they needed safely. 
“Yo, long time no see (l/n), unfortunate we had to meet like this isn’t it?” He asked and you glared.
By no means was your relationship with Toji smooth sailing, things were difficult, you came from a high clan and you had a reputation to uphold. As soon as your elders found out they threatened to strip you from not only status but being heiress to your clan. You relayed what they had said to Toji before leaving him broken-hearted. Now he stood before you, you could tell he had grown.
“Sensei, we have to deliver the vessel,” Gojo reminded you and you nodded.
“You two go on ahead I’ll handle things here,” You said unsheathing your katana, with a heavy heart. 
“Not so fast,” Toji had said from somewhere behind Gojo, impaling him with his weapon while Getou made off with the vessel. 
You quickly blocked him from attacking you, and he set off after the vessel you were hot on his tail. You had to leave Gojo quickly calling for medical assistance for him, while chasing after your ex before he could kill the vessel. You didn’t catch up in time as you yelled out for Getou to leave so you could do damage control, but it had been too late, Toji had killed the girl but at least Getou was out.
“Toji… I have to kill you now,” You whispered, you were seething. 
There was no way you nor the boys, minus Gojo would be forgiven for this disaster easily. 
“I’d love to see you try,” He said and you smirked. 
You set off blade ready and clashed with him, a smirk on your face. The two of you clashed around for a bit. You didn’t even notice you were outside once again until you heard a bird chirping.
“Why aren’t you using your technique, you could easily beat me with it,” Toji said he was amused.
“Shouldn’t use it on scum like you,” You said, you couldn’t believe this was happening right now honestly it felt like a nightmare. 
“You dated this scum, so I couldn’t be that bad,” He said with a smirk and you felt like you could scream.
Your body was on fire and you quickly slashed at him but he dodged it quickly. You put your hands looping your thumb behind your middle finger with the rest of your hand draped over it, Toji’s eyes widened.
“Domain Expansion: Time Stops All,” You whispered and there was a warping noise before you were both thrown into your domain. 
Within your domain time would be slowed for your opponent, not for you. You quickly grabbed your sword and walked over to Toji, taking your sword and impaling him in a fatal place, you undid your domain and began to walk away only to hear him weakly call out for you. 
“What is it Toji, I don’t have all day,” You said quickly and you turned around seeing what state you left him in. 
“I have a son, Megumi, take care of him, please make sure that he doesn’t return to the Zenin Clan,” Toji whispered and you looked up.
“You never made leaving easy, you’re a bastard but I once loved you. I’ll do it, so rest in peace Toji, I’ll take care of him,” You said and saw what seemed a smile appear onto his face while his eyes slowly closed. 
You groaned while wiping your tears, and quickly met back up with Gojo and Getou who seemed to be in better conditions.
“Sensei, we’re-” Getou began but you cut them off.
“No apologies, I have to quickly take care of some business, can I leave the reports to the both of you?” You asked and they nodded.
You headed home quickly changing before heading off to the direction Toji had whispered, slipping on glasses. You walked up to the home sitting on the porch with your legs crossed, and the boy came up to you with a confused look.
“Yo, your dad sent me,” You said with a small smirk and the boy looked at you. 
“Are you one of his friends?” He asked and you nodded.
“Listen, you’re going to come to live with me, you’re a sorcerer and there’s a clan looking for you, but I’ll protect you Megumi,” You said and he nodded, still looking confused. 
You extended your hand with a soft smile and he took it. You quickly hoisted him up with a smile and carried him off into your car helping with his seatbelt. It took everything within you to not cry, as he looked exactly like Toji, a carbon copy. You both rode in silence as you had to think over an excuse as to how to tell the boy his father wouldn’t be coming back. You also had to go to the Zenin Clan and had to talk over how Megumi would now be under your care. You sighed and the boy looked over at you.
“Is my dad coming back?” He asked and your eyes widened.
“Not for a long time, you’re stuck with me kiddo,” You said and he nodded. 
When you got to your estate with the child in hand your elders looked like they could die on the spot. 
“(y/n)-sama, what is the meaning of this?” One of them asked and you picked up Megumi walking past them.
You introduced him to the household maid asking her to watch over him while you spoke to the elders. After a long meeting the elders caved in to your pleas of keeping him. They told you that you would have to go alone to meet with the Zenin to which you nodded. You went back over to see Megumi doing homework and you crouched down.
“Hey buddy, we have to go somewhere okay? You can bring your work with you,” You said and he nodded.
You heard his stomach growl, to which he blushed, and you only frowned slightly. 
“We’ll get something to eat on the way too,” You said and he nodded. 
“Can we have sushi?” He asked and you smiled.
“Of course, we just have to stop by someone’s residency first, yeah?” You asked and he quickly nodded.
You both set out to Gojo’s place and you sighed, this had to be a headache. You stopped, parking outside the estate and taking Megumi with you. You knocked stating your name and that you had to see Gojo, to which you were let in and made your way to the meeting room. You quickly put Megumi down holding his hand and you both made your way to see him. Gojo’s eyes widened to see you with a child, you quickly explained the situation. He nodded agreeing to back you up and you let out a sigh of relief, smiling down at Megumi.
“Are you going now?” Gojo asked and you nodded.
“Yeah as soon as I take him to get sushi, it’s off to tell them,” You said and he nodded.
You said your goodbyes and you looked down at Megumi.
“Who is that man?” He asked and you smiled.
“That’s a friend and a student, Gojo Satoru, very strong boy,” You said and he nodded.
“I want to be as strong as him then,” He said and you smiled. 
You both got into the car and you drove to a nearby sushi place reassuring Megumi he could order whatever he pleased, multiple times as he wasn’t sure. After you both ordered and got your meals, you set out to the Zenin Estate, taking a deep breath. You got out with him, hoisting him up on your waist as he had passed out and stepped in, all eyes following you in deep silence. You walked into Naobito’s office with a scowl, as you had a rough encounter with Naoya beforehand, and you knew he’d be in there. Both men looked at you in utter shock when you came in unannounced with Megumi in your arms. Naobito, went to open his mouth but you gave him a piercing look and quickly put your hand up. 
“The (l/n) clan will be looking after Megumi Fushiguro as long as I live, I have already spoken with the Gojo Clan, and they plan to back me up, there is no buts, ifs, nor objection. The child will fully go under my custody,” You said while glaring and turned your head to Naoya. “Get out of my sight now, your father and I have lots to discuss.”
Naoya looked at his father who only nodded and he left glaring at you. You rubbed Megumi’s back in a soothing manner as the door slamming startled him.
“Hey buddy, back to sleep okay?” You whispered and he nodded.
He fell back asleep and you looked at Naobito, still glaring.
“You ought to teach your son manners, how will he get a woman if he’s so… brutish?” You said and Naobito only glared. 
“What is all this about your clan taking Megumi in, it was said that he would become a Zenin,” He said clearly confused. 
“I'll make it brief, I killed Toji, so I guess since I did you a favor, ridding you of him, permanently, you could do this for me and stay out. It was Toji’s final wish for the boy to stay with me permanently. I plan to honor it,” You said and Naobito proceeded to stare.
“Well, I’ll allow it under one condition, if you were to become dead or mentally incapacitated, Megumi is handed over to me, and then made sole heir to our clan,” He said and you thought it over. “I can assure you’re not walking out here cleanly with the boy, if we don’t come to an agreement.”
“Alright but I also have a set of terms, if you were to die or become mentally incapacitated, Megumi goes over to Gojo Satoru,” You said and Naobito nodded. 
You stood up slowly extending a hand, to which he took and you gripped it hardly.
“And may hell rain down upon you if you do anything to sabotage this, also he is never to find out I killed his father,” You said and let go, walking out. 
You made your way out the manor not before Naoya cornered you. You looked up at him, displeased to say the least. 
“Get out my way,” You said and he shook his head.
“Not until you apologize for disrespecting me,” He said and you laughed.
“Didn’t know you had a pair now, out of my way,” You said, shoving him and continued to walk. 
Watching over Megumi wasn’t an easy task, you had no idea how children worked, but he was such a good kid you couldn’t help but spoil him. Megumi would often have bad nightmares as a child where he would think you had abandoned him, which broke your heart because as long as you lived you’d stay by his side. 
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clockworkouroboros · 4 years
Text
I’m in a The Amazing Devil Discord server and have been going wild with crazy insane theories about just about everything, drawing connections that probably don’t actually exist, and generally losing my mind over both Love Run and The Horror and the Wild. That being said, I do have a theory about THatW that, if it’s not true, at least merits me a tinfoil hat, I think. Just be warned, this post will be long, and yes, I will include receipts.
So here’s this theory and Joey, if you read this, just know that I’m impressed either at how much thought was put into this, or the sheer number of coincidences that make this work if it wasn’t planned. It’s turned me into a conspiracy theorist for the past four days or so? And it’s severely affected the amount of sleep I’ve been getting.
My basic theory here is that Joey and Madeleine aren’t singing as themselves throughout this album, they’re playing characters, and those characters are old gods. Joey is the Wild, Madeleine is Time. (Alternatively, she’s Horror, fitting with the album title, but as she’s never explicitly referred to as such, I’m not insisting on that point.)
Now, where am I getting this silly idea from? None other than the title track, of course, in which Joey sings, “witness me, old man, I am the Wild, and Madeleine sings, “And I am Time itself.” And yes, they are both capitalized like that in the lyrics.
So they explicitly refer to themselves as such. But Emily, you might be saying (or not, depending on how much you care), that’s one song! This is hardly an album’s worth of proof! Sure, they might be gods in this song, but what about the other eight? To which I say, hoo boy, I’m just getting started.
Before I continue, I’d like to add something about how their characters are depicted throughout the album: Joey is more cheerful, Madeleine is not. (see: Wild Blue Yonder, Marbles, Battle Cries.) Joey is whimsical, Madeleine is practical. (See Battle Cries especially, but you can also see this in Wild Blue Yonder.) Madeleine is referred to multiple times as being stronger than Joey, and appears to assume a more protective role over Joey’s childlike. This fits in with my theory, by the way, in a roundabout sort of way that involves some squinting. Joey is the Wild, which is...well, wild. Think of little kids: cheerful, whimsical, in need of protection. Madeleine is Time. She knows what has been, what is, and what will be. Of course she’s going to be more mature, practical, and pessimistic.
And why is this important? Well, it’s kind of how I’m tying together a lot of the rest of the album. (Not all of it; Farewell Wanderlust is a notable outlier in many ways, and some of my connections are tenuous at best, but we’re going to ignore that and pretend it’s all rock-solid. Rockrose-solid. I’m sorry, I’m very tired.) I’m ignoring The Rockrose and the Thistle a little bit in this post, not because I dislike it (it’s gorgeous), but because it’s stubbornly eluding my attempts to tie it into anything other than Elsa’s Song, which isn’t even part of this album.
The vast majority of what you need to know about these two characters is in The Horror and the Wild (the song), so I’m gonna copy/paste some lyrics, and go through them. (Actually, the copy/pasting is nonexistent, these lyrics are imprinted on my brain at this point. That being said, if there are errors, lmk and I will edit the post and fix them!)
So we’ve got Madeleine starting, singing about Joey, with “You were raised by wolves and voices, every night I hear them howling deep beneath your bed, they said it all comes down to you.” Aside from the fact that I have no clue why “it all” comes down to Joey, or anything with that last bit, maybe a few more late nights with a tinfoil hat will do the trick. That being said, the first line of the song references childhood specifically in relation to Joey. Notice also how wolves are referenced in Wild Blue Yonder (“we don’t know what’s out there/could be wolves”) and That Unwanted Animal (“‘What’s the time, Mr. Wolf,’ but you, you’re blind, you bleat, you bear your claws”). The whole “howling” thing and “deep beneath your bed” both pop up in That Unwanted Animal, too: “and on the wind it howls,” for one. And for the other, there’s “you [presumably Joey] make the bed up silent on the floor so no one hears us,” later followed later in the song by “and the door below us splinters, and the creature creeps inside.”
Following this, Joey sings about Madeleine: “you’re the daughter of silent watching stones, you watch the stars hurl all their fundaments, in wonderment at you and yours, forever asking more.” First of all, I’m gonna say that this is Joey’s point of view; later on, Madeleine will refute the daughter thing (“I’m not a drunkard, a daughter, a preacher”.) Anyway, “silent watching stones” could reference Wild Blue Yonder: “every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view.” The view being the stars hurling all their fundaments?
(Incidentally, I knew vaguely what “fundament” meant, but I looked it up to make sure I had it right, and learned that, among its other meanings, “fundament” can mean “butt.” But I don’t think that’s what Joey had in mind with this. I just think y’all should appreciate it.)
Anyway, we’ve also got in Battle Cries, “With you I could summon the gods and the stars, make them dance out the plays that we wrote from the heart, and we’d laugh at the ghosts of our fears,” with Madeleine singing, “Come on, love, please don’t start, sing your notes play your part,” and then the part that gets me every time: M: “we were gods,” J: “we were kids.” Which is a whole other can of worms involving their personalities, which I’ve already briefly outlined. My point is the whole “gods and the stars” bit.
I could (and have, on Discord) done a full, in-depth analysis of this track, and I don’t want to go all over it again, but “I promise you, they’ll sing of every Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child, witness me, old man, I am the Wild” has both Time and Wild as proper nouns in the lyrics, plus reinforces Time’s view of the Wild as a child. No clue who the old man is, though.
In verse two, Madeleine sings, “you [Joey] are the son of every dressing-up box, and I am Time itself, I slow and let you play, I steal the hours, and turn the night into day.” Again, this reinforces Joey’s childlike aspects (which will later be hinted at in That Unwanted Animal, with the “god-child,” who’s clearly Joey), but also shows, as in the refrain, the fact that Time has a sense of protectiveness over the Wild, at least sometimes.
That being said, although I’ve obviously referenced other songs, I still have mostly focused on the title track. So. I’m going to go through some of the other songs real quick.
The songs on the album (again, excepting Rockrose, because my attempts to tie it in have been frustrating and not gone anywhere, Mr. Batey please explain) can be grouped into categories: songs outright referencing gods (THatW, Farewell Wanderlust, That Unwanted Animal, Battle Cries), songs about their relationship, (arguably all of them, although Welly Boots is a bit confusing), and songs that refuse to allow me to classify them (Rockrose).
I would argue that this entire album is about the relationship of two old gods, but I’m not quite sure what the chronology is of the album, because it seems like it can’t be straightforward. (Farewell Wanderlust, although its placement makes sense in the setup of the album, doesn’t make sense in the chronology of this theory.) Another important note in some way is that every song on the album, with the exception of Farewell Wanderlust, is about being there for someone, or steadfastness in some capacity, while Farewell Wanderlust is about abandonment. It’s an outlier in a lot of ways. (Though not as many ways as frickin Rockrose.)
I have been talking about this at great length (and almost incessantly) on Discord, so unless you want this post to get even longer, I’m going to run by some lyrics real quick to try and show a little bit my thought process.
- “He watches her get dressed as though she’s hurtling through time” (Fair)
- “And she is stronger than he has ever been, he knows” (Fair) versus “Without you, I’m stronger, I’m no longer filled with wonder. How wrong you were” (Wild Blue Yonder, Welly Boots)
- J: “Place your hand in mine” M: “Hold the hand of the god-child, they said, as he falls from the sky” (That Unwanted Animal)
- “I’m the saint of the paint that was left in the pot, I’m your angel ellipsis, your devil of dots” (Farewell Wanderlust)
- “the fluttering of all your wings” (The Horror and the Wild) versus “when you think about him, my wings start to flap” (Farewell Wanderlust)
- “come, devil, come, she sang, call out my name. Let’s take this outside, ‘cos we’re one and the same. Our gods have abandoned us, left us, instead, take up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead” (Farewell Wanderlust)
There are even more lyrics, and I’m going to be completely honest with you, I’ve gone totally insane with all of this, but this post is way too long already, so just let me know if you want any clarification or something.
Tldr: The Amazing Devil’s album The Horror and the Wild is about two old gods, one being Time, and the other being the Wild, or the god-child. The album is primarily about their relationship and steadfastness they show each other, even in tumultuous circumstances.
Now go excuse me while I attempt to take off this tinfoil hat that appears to be stuck on my head.
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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years
Text
Perfect (Richard Winters x Reader)
So this lovely piece can be read as a stand-alone or a sequel to The Benefits of Paperwork. 
As always, can be read as reader or OFC. 
A huge thanks to @happyveday​ for the encouragement and idea. I hope this meets your expectations. 
Warnings: Fluff and feels. I think I have a cavity now. 
Words: 1200
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"The world's greatest uncle is finally here!" 
 Winters looked up from staring at his hands, sitting outside of the delivery room. He had been awake almost thirty-six hours and suddenly felt every minute of it. His clothes were dirty and rumpled but he did not care. 
 Nixon stopped in front of him, eyebrows scrunched together. "You look terrible."
 That got a huff of a laugh out of the redhead. "Yeah, it's been a long day."
 "Uh huh. You're a proud father now! Are you going to tell me if I have a niece or nephew?"
 "Nephew."
 "I fucking-" Nixon started to exclaim in his excitement before a loud shushing came from a nearby nurse, "-ah, I bloody knew it!" 
 Winters just shook his head at his friend. His own excitement bubbled under his skin like a geyser waiting to explode. He could not wait to introduce his best friend to his son. 
 "So, is he a Lewis or Nixon?"
 "She gets to make the final decision. We've talked but she gets to choose."
 Nixon stared at him, mouth gaping slightly before he recovered from his surprise. "You're letting your wife choose the name of your first born son? She knows about the deal right? She knows-"
 "Yes, you have told her multiple times about how you knew we were going to marry and this was your demand for your infallible insight. I am sure she is taking it into great consideration. Also she did just spend eighteen hours in labor."
 Nixon did not seem convinced but nodded. "What are you doing out here anyway?"
 "I was sent out for food." He gestured to the brown paper bag next to him with a bakery's logo on it. "A nurse is checking on her right now."
 "Ah." Nixon sat down next to Winters. "How does it feel?"
 "What?"
 "Being a father."
 "I've only been a father for," he checked his watch, "going on four hours now."
 "Alright, smart-ass."
 Winters sighed, a goofy smile growing on his lips and his eyes twinkling. "I just met him and I already love him. I thought it would be hard to love anyone else as much as I love my wife but from the moment the doctor handed him to me...Nix, I would do anything for him."
 "I know. That means a lot too. The love you have for her...I know I am not the only one to compare it to a fairy-tale."
 The door beside them opened and a nurse stepped out, her white uniform crisp and practically blinding. "I am finished if you would like to join her, Mr. Winters, she is awake. I'll bring the paperwork in a moment."
 "Thank you." Both men stood and walked into the delivery room. 
 A single bed was in the middle of the room, stark white walls making the room seem unnaturally bright. 
 Winters could not help but stare at the beautiful woman in the bed, even with her hair a mess and exhaustion clearly etched on her face, she glowed. How had he ever deserved such a strong, intelligent, gorgeous woman? She meant the world to him and he made sure to remind her everyday how much he loved her.
 Immediately, he went to the side of her bed, depositing the bakery bag on the side table and pressed a kiss to her temple. His eyes drifted to the bundle in her arms and his heart swelled. There lay his son...his child...healthy and perfect. What more could he ask for? 
 His baby lips were pursed in his sleep, bright blue eyes hidden for the moment. A faint dusting of hair could be seen under the cap the nurse had put to help keep him warm. He was perfect. 
 "How are you feeling, darling?" 
 "Tired but that's not unexpected." She smiled at Winters before looking over at Nixon standing at the end of the bed. "Lewis, it's good to see you."
 He winked at her. "You're still lovely as ever. Are you sure you want to stay married to this redheaded Eskimo?"
 She chuckled, "I'm sure. Here, Dick." She lifted up the bundle and moved their son into his father's arms. 
 "So...what did you decide?" Nixon hedged, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two new parents. 
 She looked from Nixon to Winters and back. "Herbert. Herbert Winters."
 Utter silence filled the room. You could hear a pin drop. 
 Then Nixon exploded. 
 "WHAT?! YOU'RE LETTING HER NAME YOUR SON AFTER THAT BASTARD?"
 "Herbert is my grandfather's name." She quietly said, raising a single eyebrow in challenge. 
 "Shit," Nixon stopped and rubbed the back of his neck, "sorry, that's...that's a good family name."
 Winters caught his wife's eye and gave the briefest of winks when Nix was looking down at the baby. 
 Nixon gazed at the baby boy, a soft smile on his face. "He is cute I guess. Hopefully he won't be a redhead like his father. Nothing but trouble those boys are."
 The nurse stepped back in. "Here is your copy of the birth certificate. Anything else I can get any of you right now? "
 "No, thank you, Nurse." Winters said, "Nix, can you grab that?"
 The nurse handed the paper to Nixon then looked back at the happy parents. "I'll be back to check on you in two hours unless you need me sooner."
 Winters nodded but his focus was on his friend's face. Nixon gaped at the form in his hand, unable to resist the temptation of looking at it. 
 "You alright there, Nix?"
 The ex-intelligence officer's eyes shifted from the paper to meet his best friend's, tears threatening to slip out. "You did it, you...you actually did it."
 Winters just smiled, slowly rocking his sleeping son in his arms. He knew what the form said. His wife had been the one to suggest it and how could he say no?
 "Lewis Davis Winters." Nixon read aloud softly, almost reverently.  
 "He's got my middle name. Besides, he should have the same name as his godfather, right?"
 Winters did not think Nixon's eyes could get any bigger but somehow they managed to. Any other time he would have laughed at how flabbergasted his best friend looked. 
 Nixon stepped closer, gently touching his godson's curled fist with heart eyes. "You and me little Lew, we're going to get into so much trouble together. I promise to teach you all the fun things your parents say no too." He cooed out, unable to escape the draw of the new baby. 
 Winters met his wife's eyes, love and adoration flowing between them. They had survived war together, a source of comfort actively sought for during the turmoil. As soon as they returned back to the states, Winters had dropped onto one knee before her. They had a small wedding and honeymooned in New York City. Sure they had their ups and downs but underneath it all was a devotion and affection to rival any love story. 
 Standing here now with his beautiful wife smiling softly at him, their new baby in his arms and his best friend to support them, it was all worth it. Nothing could be more perfect than this moment for him. 
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latenightcinephile · 3 years
Text
#899: ‘Babes in Arms’, dir. Busby Berkeley, 1939.
cw: explicit 1930s racism.
To get a sense of how I feel about Babes in Arms, join me on the odyssey that resulted in me actually seeing the film at last.
Usually I try not to read too much about a film before I see it, but when I'm unable to track something down I do a bit of skimming around to get an idea of why it's so elusive. These missing films almost inevitably turn out to be old, experimental, or out of print. Babes in Arms confused me, though - a Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney collaboration, directed by Busby Berkeley, I thought it would be easy to find in a legitimate form. Ten years later, I was finally able to find a copy available online - a DVD that doesn't appear to be an official print from anywhere in particular. I sat down to watch this mysterious relic of the Hollywood musical era, and boy.
Babes in Arms is a horrifying, fascinating, wild fucking time.
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One of the things that's most bewildering about the film is how little spectacle there is, given that spectacular musicals are the one thing Busby Berkeley is associated with. The songs in the film are almost entirely different to those in the stage musical that the film was supposedly based on, and the vast majority of them would later turn up in Singin' in the Rain: Babes in Arms uses, at various points, 'Good Morning', 'Lucky Star', 'Broadway Melody' and 'Singin' in the Rain' itself. The most recognisable song from the stage musical, 'The Lady is a Tramp', is stripped of its lyrics and used as background music. For a film about Broadway and vaudeville, the lack of spectacle is bizarre, and where it does appear, as in the film's title song, the spectacle is absurd. Told that they're not allowed to come and appear with their parents, the teenagers rally together in a musical number that features burning torches, riffs from Wagner, and kids skipping in a circle around a flaming pyre. I started to understand why Margaret Hamilton's character wanted to put all these kids in a trade school - they're clearly menaces to society as they are. The one musical number that feels like a Berkeley one is 'God's Country', and aside from the alarmingly jingoistic lyrics, this song is so over-the-top that it's a true showstopper (literally, it's at the very end of the film). You just have to avoid thinking too hard about the racist elements.
Speaking of. Halfway through, when these kids launch their big stage show to save their families from being evicted... that's when I realised why this film is so difficult to track down. An eight-minute number in blackface. I'm a firm believer that no film can have too little blackface in it (there are some films with none at all that could stand to have even less) but Babes in Arms devotes about a twelfth of its total runtime to this number. And watching it in the moment, it drags on and on, somehow getting more appalling with each verse. That should disqualify it from being recommended, and I think it's telling that none of the write-ups of the film that I consulted when I was searching mentioned the number even existed. It's maddening that Judy Garland is doing some absolutely stunning work throughout the film, because I wanted to flat-out hate the movie. 'I Cried for You' is an astonishingly well-delivered song, and it's a shame it's surrounded by multiple levels of weird racism.
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Pictured: people who should bloody well know better.
Then there's the plot, which hangs together well enough at a first glance, but has almost no continuous line through it. As an example, here's what happens when Mickey Moran (Rooney) gets the funding for his show, with the reversals numbered for convenience.
The funding comes from Baby Rosalie (June Preisser), a child actress who insists on being the headliner in exchange. This means Mickey needs to cut Patsy (Garland) from the show. Typically, this conflict would be made worse by Rosalie being totally inept, but 1) she's very talented, turning cartwheels as a warmup. Patsy takes on the role of understudy. Mickey is persuaded to kiss Rosalie during a rehearsal, so Patsy runs away to get advice from her mother. Her mother tells her it's wrong to walk out on a show. 2) Patsy goes back. Shortly before the big show opens, Rosalie is told that she is forbidden from appearing on stage, even though she wants to. 3) She doesn't. Mickey panics about what to do now he has no star, forgetting that 4) he already has an understudy.
Every time it seems like there's a big conflict brewing, it's rapidly resolved, and the film never asks you to recall anything that happened more than twenty minutes before (after Baby Rosalie is pulled away from the opening night, she doesn't reappear in the film, her purpose served).
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It's tempting to say that this rudimentary plot is a result of the musical being in its early stages, but this film was made the same year as The Wizard of Oz, so that can't be it. I'd wager it's because Berkeley has used the revue structure of the Broadway musicals he was acquainted with for a film instead. This film doesn't need a deep plot because the drawcards are the musical numbers. Unfortunately, those musicals that happened to have more consistent plots also had better musical numbers, and Babes in Arms sort of faded into obscurity. Aside from Garland's numbers, that's probably where it's safest to leave it.
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kyndaris · 3 years
Text
Braving Tried and True JRPG Tropes
When Bravely Default II was released, one of the first reviews I stumbled upon spoke about the person’s disappointment. Some of it came down to personal taste: the art style. Others were a bit more valid: the weak narrative and carbon copies of protagonists from other games. While the fan in me wanted to contest many of their claims, the more I played of the latest Japanese role-playing game (JRPG) from Square-Enix, I could not deny that there was a lot of tropes being used to prop up the strong gameplay loop and to give players the chance to try out the different jobs on offer. Still, many of these grips failed to deter me too much from my playing of the game. After sinking a hefty amount of time into it, I was able to push my way through the multiple endings and give Seth, Gloria, Elvis and Adelle the happy ending that they deserved.
As the faithful readers of my blog, you should know that I bought Bravely Default II while on a road trip with family. Though I should have been luxuriating in the February sun, I was much too engrossed in my Nintendo Switch to pay much mind to my surroundings. And even if Zac Efron or Chris Hemsworth had walked past, I’d probably barely bat an eyelid.
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The first few hours of Bravely Default II had me busy reengaging with the mechanics that I knew from the first two games on the Nintendo DS and Octopath Traveler. Considering my familiarity with old-school JRPGs, it came as no surprise that I quickly managed to level up Freelancer as I cut a swathe through the grass surrounding the starting city of Halyconia. In fact, I realised quite quickly that the best way to get good items without paying a cent for them was to play the game like Link, eager to find rupees in the bushes. By the time I fought Dag and Selene and Horten, they went down like flies even though I hadn’t even bothered to change from my default jobs. 
Truth be told, when I read about the difficulties many people supposedly had with these earlier battles, I was scratching my head. Perhaps it was simply the method I play the games - grinding out each job to my satisfaction that had simplified what should have been difficult. On a side note, I thought that the job levelling was much better balanced than Yakuza: Like a Dragon and an infinitely more fun experience because of it. It allowed me to experiment with my team and find the best balance for taking on the various mobs in a given area.
The only time I actually prepared properly for a fight was when I took down Adam and the last few bosses. But even they were a considerable breeze when one had access to so many abilities. Paralysing everyone that stood in my way, inflicting poison and contagion, then having a maxed out Freelancer with Thief skills using Godspeed Strike? Child’s play.
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Now, onto the weaker elements of Bravely Default II. The various plot-holes and unexplored characterisation of the heroes and villains. While Elvis and Lonsdale stood out to me, many of the others could have been interchanged with someone else and I would have barely been able to tell the difference were it not for their individual Asterisk attire.
Let’s start with Seth, shall we? Our main protagonist despite the ensemble set-up could have been ripped from any Japanese role-playing game. The ones he reminded me strongly of were Tidus and Vaan. Tidus, because he was a fish-out-of-water that had fallen in love with the woman that would have to sacrifice her life to bring peace back to the world. Vaan due to the fact that he never truly stood out and was simply part of the story just because of Wind Crystal shenanigans. Later on, he was made a bit more special due to his status as someone that had come from the Outer Seas.
In a way, it was a clever voice direction for Seth to be the only character with an American accent. This helped paint the fact that he was different from the others. Still, it would have been much better if we could have seen what his life had been like prior to the events that brought him to waking up on a beach in Halyconia. And while there are scenes in several sidequests that explore a little of Seth’s backstory, there’s little to sink one’s teeth into.
Gloria, on the other hand, is very much a stereotypical princess of a mystical kingdom. Though the voice actress is very good at expressing the pain she has gone through as one of the sole survivors of Musa’s destruction, I feel like it would have connected better with players to have seen the invasion and perhaps played a small part in controlling her escape. Though these things are just little nitpicks, it adds to the characters and allows people to emotionally invest in the happenings of the world. 
That, in and of itself, is probably Bravely Default II’s key problem. The fact that it tells rather than shows.
Elvis, of course, is the star of the show. His quirky traits, affable nature make him a clear favourite and much more human than his other counterparts. The narrative around Wiswald was also great example of fleshing out his past and the people he knows. It is much more personal, pulling on our heartstrings to learn about the death of a young child, and thus carries more weight than the water shortage in Savalon or the fairy hunting in Rimedhal, which was clearly meant to mirror witch trials. 
While Folie, the main antagonist behind the happenings in Wiswald, could have been better written and with a more tangible tie to the people of Wiswald, the fact that she manipulated Roddy, Lily and poor Galahad with visions of the dead Mona meant that a bit of pathos was achieved when she was finally brought down.
Adelle, a little cliche, was still an intriguing character that rounded out the team (I still can’t place her accent). The reveal that she was actually a fairy was a delight. It was also nice that her goals also aligned with the main narrative of stopping the Night’s Nexus, instead of being as superfluous as Elvis trying to solve the riddle of a book he had in his possession or Seth just tagging along for the ride. 
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As for the foes that we faced? Most of them seemed like excuses to dress up how players obtained their Asterisks. Many of them seemed like caricatures. And honestly, Martha’s excuse to fight the Heroes of Light was abysmal. But, of course, the developers needed a way for players to experience what it might be like fighting a foe that had the Dragoon Asterisk before they could use it for their own.
I will admit, the story just felt like a vehicle to pick up each Asterisk along the way. Oft times, I had to wonder why so many of these people felt compelled to stand in the way of the Heroes of Light. And while it would have been much better to have a more personal reason for why we fought these enemies besides the fact that ‘Oh, they have an Asterisk and something, something Crystal!’ I still managed to push my way through.
Still, the fact that Dag and Selene managed to snag more character development in the sidequests was great. Gladys’s attempt at atonement and her brother’s grief was also good ways to delve into topics that might have been a little too dark for a title that had such gorgeous backdrops and adorable character models.
Now, to the meat of the matter. The plot holes and the things that were never truly explained. Edna’s descent into madness though Adelle often insisted her sister had always loved humans. How and where Lady Emma found the book that actually contained the memories of the Night’s Nexus? Where does Seth actually come from? How did he die? Why was he chosen by the Wind Crystal? Why was Adam so invested in trying to conquer the world? Did he experience something bad in his past that informed his current need to stop war by starting it? Where did Folie come from? Who is she and why did she feel the need to torment the people of Wiswald for her art?
So many mysteries. So little explanation.
Overall, Bravely Default II has quite a few flaws and missteps. Yet, despite that, it’s a sum greater than its parts. The narrative might not have been captivating, but it managed to keep pulling me through until I saw the true ending. Anticlimactic as the final boss battle might have been, I still felt a certain satisfaction in seeing Gloria tackle Seth to the ground. And honestly, who doesn’t want to Godspeed Strike their way to victory?
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P.S. I will say that after witnessing Adelle save Martha, I had hoped for a blossoming romance, but the dialogue between her and Elvis during the second bad ending got to me. It may not be my one true pairing, but Elvis x Adelle was an arrow to my heart. My only question is: how old is Adelle? She looks like a child and yet, because she’s a fairy, she could be like a century older. Maybe better not to think too hard, eh? After all, why sweat the details?
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milkybunbuns · 4 years
Text
smile → kita.s
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Map reading tragedy - 6
w/c: 1.1 K
warnings: none
SMILE MASTERLIST
-
it was the day that every second and third year in the volleyball team dreaded, or at least you thought so. finally, sunday had come and it was the day when yui would be moving away. spirits were still kept high though, as everyone wandered through the beautiful streets of hyogo, clad in thick fur jackets, beanies, scarves and mittens. you held onto your beanie as a particularly harsh gust of wind passed by, threatening to blow your hat away and to carry it far off into the distance.
"atsumu, are you sure we're heading in the right direction? we've been walking for the past 15 minutes and this park is only supposed to be 5 minutes away."
"of course we're going in the right direction, i'm great at following directions!"
"atsumu-san. hand over the map", kita gestured for the map a creepy blank look implanted on his face making everyone sweat drop. atsumu handed over the map without any thought, not wanting to disappoint his captain. kita inspected the map for a few seconds, quickly coming up to the reason as to why it was taking so long. "you were holding the map upside down."
this sent the second years and most of the third years into a fit of laughter. "only tsumu' would do something so dumb!"
"oh my god, i think this actually has made my life worthwhile, i think i'm crying-"
"don't worry atsumu! better luck not being an idiot next time, you'll need all the luck you can get!"
"how is this even possible. how can one be so stupid to do something like that", yui deadpanned, facepalming while opening up a map app on her phone. "the park is all the way back there, this time, ya'll will be following me, we cant let a bunch of dummies minus kita-san take the map."
----
"uhm yui-san, i hate to tell you, but it's been like 20 minutes and we're still not there yet", you popped into her field of vision, your voice covering the annoyed grumbling ones of everyone else. kita was tasked with holding the picnic basket since everyone else would just eat all the food before even arriving at the destination. no one even dared try to grab a piece of bread from inside to fill their hunger, too afraid to do so.
"are you sure it's been 20 minutes?"
"yeah, everyone is getting hungry."
"it can't be much further, just another 5 minutes."
"okay", you retreated back to the end of the group beside kita, to make sure no one got lost or was left behind.
"so how was it?", he asked, eyes still staring straight ahead.
"yui-san said that it'll only be another 5 minutes."
"alright."
----
"ermmm where are we?"
"uhhh"
"this isn't a park."
"no shit sherlock."
"yes, call me sherlock atsumu."
"ew, that sounds so dumb. at least i don't have to share a family name with you now."
"my name is sherlock miya atsumu."
"that's even worse."
"awww, just admit you love the name as you're jealous you're not a sherlock."
"what person in the right mind would be jealous of you?"
"plenty of people!"
"from your imagination?"
"noo, you're one of them."
"sure."
"osamu. atsumu."
"yes, sorry kita-san!"
"yui-san, please hand over your map", kita gestured for the map, "the location that has been set is wrong. we were meant to take a left as a street 17 minutes ago. we've been going in the wong direction for a long time."
"o-oh, sorry."
"I'll take the map. it's for the best, clearly."
----
the group finally stepped out into a beautiful open area, children gleefully running around, a glimmering lake in the middle of it all with multiple stalls selling various bits and bobs set up near it.
"finally! i knew we could rely on ya kita-senpai", you smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder gently.
"i am sure that any of us would've been able to do it eventually", he replied bluntly, completely missing the point of what you had said. why couldn't he just say thanks or something?
"of course of course, whatever you say kita-senpai", you mocked, rushing off towards the lake first, spreading your arms out and letting the wind blow against your face as you ran backwards, tumbling onto the grass. laying down, you allowed yourself to make grass angels and was soon joined by atsumu who copied your moves. then came akagi and suna who made a grass human, not bothered to move and too just plop down onto the grass. how had you gotten so close and easy going with the team within a week of knowing them, minus osamu? kita, being the oh-so responsible captain had laid down the mat and was beginning to set up the various plates of food, with yui helping as everyone else wandered off.
"kita-senpai, come play with me at the swings!"
"aren't we a bit too old?"
"aw don't be a downer! pleeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaseeee? you can set up the food later!"
"y/n-chan is right kita-san, I'll take care of the food, you guys enjoy yourselves."
"i can't, this is supposed to be for you and yet you're doing all the work."
"it's fine, you're helping me by making my favourite ship sail!"
"i dont understand how hanging out with y/n-san will make a ship sail?"
"aiyo, just go already lah", yui said, pushing kita towards you, who was eagerly waiting by the swings. kita moved over to you robotically, looking at you judgingly, but you seemed unfazed by it.
"push me?", you asked him, holding tightly onto the chains holding the swings up, feet not quite reaching the floor, allowing you to swing your feet back and forth.
"okay", he complied, beginning to gently push you forwards by your back, "hold on tightly."
"mhm, i will", you smiled brightly like a child on Christmas eve, rejoicing in the feeling of childhood. kita began to push the swing gently, just enough for a romantic atmosphere, without pushing you to the point where you would feel nauseous. if only this could last forever
"what did you say l/n-san?"
"huh? i didn't say anything and didn't i tell you to call me y/n?"
"sorry, I'll keep that in mind, but you did mention something about lasting forever?"
"oh that. ill be straight forwards with you. i wish that we can be together forever."
"mmm..."
"I'll miss you after you graduate. it might sound a bit odd coming from someone you've only known for a week, but i feel like I've known you forever."
"it's not odd at all, we won't ever judge you."
"since when have you been so sentimental?"
"i'm just stating the facts."
"well then, i look forward to cracking a smile out of you."
"of course", he nodded as you got off the swing, hands behind your back and grinning, before rushing off towards yui where all the food was laid out and ready to enjoy.
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tomiokai · 4 years
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Attempts || Spencer Reid
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A/N: In this fic there are discussions on abuse, rape, and other explicit topics in toxic relationships. Please if you are in a relationship where you feel unsafe or you are getting abused, please, please, please ask for help/get some. Don’t stay in them, they will get worse! I’ve lost a friend because of a toxic relationship that she was in and that ended our friendship. 
Please don’t copy my works, but if you do want to use it as inspiration please give me credit, at least tag me. I do read a lot and when I see my ideas getting stolen and then turned into new stories it really hurts me.
Summary: After the kidnapping of Drew Luis the team sends Spencer to Y/n, the main suspect’s childhood home that has been abandoned for years to look for evidence to where she could be hiding, but instead of finding clues he finds y/n and  Y/n isn’t very happy about that. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sick!Reader
Category: Angst. The tiniest bit of fluff towards the end. 
Warnings: ANGST.  Kidnapping. Blood. Abuse. Rape. Violence.  Cannibalism?? 
Word Count: 2.9k
_
“This is Drew Luis, male, 38, he went missing 8 days ago. Witnesses say they saw a woman around her mid 30’s drag a limp body into a grey car and drive off west of 874 Baker Valley. Virginia police have done their absolute best trying to find him but they have nothing.” JJ spoke loudly as she pulled up pictures of a man with blonde hair and brown eyes in his late 30s. 
“And get this, when police arrived at the house there showed no sign of struggle,” Garcia added as she scrolled through pictures taken of the house.
“Now we dug more into his personal life we discovered that he had a girlfriend that got hospitalized very regularly.” This time it was Hotchner that spoke. “Broken hand, fractured collar bone, you name it. 
“She was in an abusive relationship,” Spencer observed the injuries in the photo’s. 
Everyone in the room nodded simultaneously agreeing. 
“She’s our suspected unsub. She’s a female, 36, and her name is Y/n  Y/l/n, it makes sense because she lives at 874 Baker Valley and this probably means she’s finally taking action and getting her revenge.”  Derek spoke looking through her files. 
“To settle the score,” JJ spoke lowering her head. 
“Another thing you might want to know about her is that she was abused as a child when she was younger. So if you discover her parents missing too, you’d know why.” Rossi said a bit of humor hidden under the seriousness. 
Small chuckles could be heard on each end of the room, but with the clear of the throat from Hotch the team sealed their lips. 
“Okay Derek, Rossi, I want you to go to the house. JJ, Emily, and I will head to the police station. Reid, I want you to go to her childhood home to look for any clues that would lead us to where she is hiding and Garcia I want you to look through the street cameras and see if you can follow her or get a plate number. 
The team split up and all went their separate ways.  
-
“Is this how you like it Drew baby?” Y/n spoke in a whisper trailing her fingers down Drew’s dirty blood-covered chest then down his stomach that showed multiple cut wounds than to his crotch, cupping him through his bloodied pants. 
“Y/N YOU DON'T WANT TO DO THIS!” Drew pleaded his bruised hands struggling against the handcuffs that were restraining him. 
Yn’s hand stopped cupping him and balled up her hand into a fist and slammed down onto his crotch. “You bitch! Did I say you can talk back?” Y/n sneered spit flying out her mouth hitting Drew’s tear-stained face. 
Drew immediately shut up and turned his head away from y/n not wanting to look at her anymore. She was mental he had thought. Her hair was a nest, her clothes covered in his blood, and a wicked smirk on her cracked lips. 
“Look at me! Look at me! I want to see you in pain the way you saw me when you took my virginity when I didn’t consent!” 
“Is this what this whole ordeal is all about?” Drew asked, face clearly in pain. 
“No! This is about the last 8 years we have been together, you jackass! So many nights of you drunk and throwing me around like I’m a rag doll! Every time I try to leave you always threaten me! You took away my freedom! I can’t have friends and I can’t even see my FAMILY!” Y/n yelled tears running down her face. 
“I-I’m sorry!” Drew whimpered. 
“Sorry doesn’t make up for all the times you’ve hospitalized me!” She yelled, pulling out a knife from behind her.
“Then just hospitalize me too! I’ll let you and I’ll say it was just an accident. Please Y/n.” Drew begged panic surging through his body. 
y/n brought the knife up to his shoulder blades. “Oh no that won’t be needed. You see I was thinking by the end of today you’ll be buried.” Y/n peacefully chuckled. 
“You’re crazy Y/n! You’re mental I swear!” Drew shouted into Y/n’s face trying to move away as far away from her as possible.
The knife in y/n’s hands plunged into his shoulder and y/n laughed into the cold air of the basement coolness. “Oh I’m going to show you crazy.” Y/n whispered leaning down into his ear. y/n kissed his cheek softly before she twisted the blade in her hand. 
Screams erupted through the air as Y/n pulled out the knife painfully slow. She slowly brought the knife back up to her freshly made wound and plunged the knife back down into his arm, she dragged the knife down his arm cutting in a perfectly straight line down to the back of his hands. 
Tears were spilling out of Drew’s face yet again. “Y-Y/n listen to m-”.
“NO. I will not listen to you.” Y/n screamed shaking her head wildly. “I’m going to make you hurt so badly.” Y/n sneered her face in an angry form.  
Cry’s. 
“I’m going to cut your dirty, dirty fingers one by one and you’re going to eat them, one by one.” Y/n’s lips curled up in a small devilish smirk. 
“Think about this y/n. If you do this it’s a long, long jail sentence.” Drew breathed out, fear enveloped. 
“Do you think I don't know that?” Y/n asked. With that Y/n stood up and grabbed his right hand in the cuffs and with her other hand brought the knife up to his pinky and cut it off with one quick swipe. 
Thump. 
His pinky hit the concrete floor and blood splattered everywhere, Drew let out a blood-curdling scream and yanked his wrists away from y/n. 
Y/n bent down to pick up his right pinky and raised it to her face, turning it around in her fingers inspecting it. A small smile grin crept up to her lips as she lowered the pinky to Drew’s lips. 
“Ah. Drew. Open up that dirty mouth of yours.” Y/n sang. 
Drew turned away from her and shut his mouth tight. 
Y/n grabbed his chin with her free hand and yanked it so that they were face to face. “I said, AH!”
Drew just stayed put shaking his head. 
Y/n let go of his chin and raised her hand. In one swift move y/n brought her hand back onto his cheek with a loud slap. “Open up you ass!” Y/n yelled.
Very slowly Drew opened his mouth not wanting any of his own fingers in his mouth.
As soon as his mouth was all the way open y/n shoved his own pinky into his mouth. “Chew.” Y/n instructed. 
Drew hesitantly chewed on his own pinky, flesh, meat, bones. Blood overflowed his own mouth as the crunches of his own bones could be heard. The taste of metallic metal numbing his tongue. 
“Now swallow.” Y/n breathed. 
-
Spencer walked around the abandoned house, looking through childhood photos sitting on the mantelpiece for any clues that would lead to where she is hiding. Without any luck Spencer continued onto the kitchen. 
The first thing he noticed was dirty dishes. The wheels in his head turned immediately.  He walked over to the dishes and knew for sure that those dishes were fresh. Spencer looked over at the fridge and walked over and threw the door open. His eyes scanned around the fridge looking for a sign of freshness. Milk. That was it his suspicions were confirmed. They were somewhere in the house. 
Spencer drew out his gun and held it in position. He went out of the kitchen and into the long hallway. He kicked open each and every door. The master bedroom, bathroom, coat closets, leaving only the last door at the end of the hallway. With one kick the bedroom door bursts open. Inside is what looked like a little girl's room. Pink walls, dolls, stuffies, and drawings of fairies. Spencer neared the bed and scanned it. In his mind he knew that the bed had been recently slept in. 
“Hotch?” Spencer whispered into his earpiece. 
“Yeah Reid what do you have?” Hotch's voice came.
“She’s here. Send back up.” Reid spoke walking out the bedroom. 
Basement. 
That’s where he was heading next.  Spencer walked down the steps to the basement and stopped at the door, listening. 
Cry’s and muffled voices can be heard from the other side. Spencer couldn’t believe the police didn’t check the basement of her childhood home. Idiots.
Spencer grabbed the doorknob and turned it very slowly and opened it a smidge. He peered through the crack and what he saw was a disaster. Drew was sitting against the back wall while his hands were above him handcuffed to water pipes, blood trailing down his shoulders and a long cut running up his arm to his hand. His right hand was missing all its fingers and just looked as if it was just a bloody nub attached to his hand. Spencer turned his head away needing a break from the sight. 
He turned back around to stare at the girls back. From behind she looked like a complete totaled mess. Her hair was everywhere and her clothes drenched in bright red blood presumably Drew’s. 
Spencer quietly pushed the door the rest of the way with his gun drawn. He was now closing in on y/n. His plan: to grab her hands before she could do anything. 
“Oh my god, thank god please save me from this psychotic woman!” Drew screamed at Spencer. 
‘Fuck his cover had been blown.’ Spencer had thought with a groan. 
Y/n’s head snapped to Spencer with a rage in her eyes. In eye blinking speed y/n dropped her knife and switched it for a revolver that hung from her belt. 
Two guns pointed at each other. It was going to end only one way and they both knew that. 
“Y/n listen to me drop the gun.” Spencer calmly said. 
“Why would I do that!” Y/n shouted backing away into the wall. 
“Y/n I know what you have been through. I’ll help you, I’ll make sure they don’t hurt you. Okay? But that’s only if you listen and slide me your gun.” Spencer responded. 
“What’s the point!” Y/n cried tears spilling out of her eyes. “You're lying, I’m going to jail anyway!”
“No you won’t as long as Drew is still alive and you have a good lawyer you won’t go to jail. You’re sick Y/n.” Spencer spoke. 
“It doesn’t matter! All I ever get is being pushed around and abused. My dad, my mom, DREW, and everyone. I have no friends or anything!” Y/n cried her whole body trembling. y/n cried her hands swiping away her hot tears.
“I’m here okay? I understand how you feel. I’ll be with you every step of the way if you just listen to me. “ Spencer explained.
Y/n’s eyes drifted to Spencer’s face and back to the gun. She lowered the gun to her side and dropped the gun by her feet and pulled out a key and showed it to Spencer. “Let me uncuff him.” Y/n spoke. 
Spencer nodded as y/n turned around to uncuff Drew, Spencer slowly walked forward and kicked the revolver behind him and backed up again. 
Y/n uncuffed Drew and Drew immediately ran to hide behind Spencer. 
Y/n pulled her hands above her head and turned around slowly to face Spencer. “Shoot me.” she whispered. 
Spencer looked at her in shock, taken aback. “No, I’m not going to do that.” Spencer's voice came. 
“P-please. I have nothing to lose.” Y/n’s voice cracked. 
“Y/n please, deep breat-.”
A bullet flew past Spencer’s ear and hit Y/n in the shoulder. Y/n looked down to her shoulder and back up to Drew. He had the gun pointed at her with rage in his eyes, he pulled the trigger with what was left of his left hand. y/n’s legs gave out from under her and she dropped to the floor all the energy leaving her body.
Spencer whipped around and grabbed the gun out of Drew’s hands and flipped Drew back around with his hands behind his back and cuffed them again. 
“Hotch I need two ambulances NOW!” Spencer yelled into his microphone.
“Okay got it, we’re almost there.” Hotch responded.  
“Make sure you withdraw all guns. Y/n has been shot and Drew is handcuffed with all his right fingers missing.”  Spencer spoke. 
“Why did you do that?” Spencer yelled at Drew.
“The crazy bitch wanted to be  shot and if you weren’t going to do it I was.” Drew breathed out. 
Spencer shook his head at Drew and went over to y/n to check her pulse. Still there. He lifted her into his arms bridal style and started walking back up the stairs. 
Spencer looked back at Drew and said “Follow and don’t try anything.” and turned back around. 
Outside was bright and sunny, warm air surrounded the street as ambulances and police cars could be heard. When the heads of Spencer and Drew were seen Hotch and the team immediately jumped out of their SUV’s. 
“Take Drew, he shot Y/n when she already surrendered.” Spencer spoke with disgust in his voice. 
Derek took no time to waste and grabbed Drew and hauled him to the first ambulance while Spencer explained to the team what had happened and brought y/n to the second ambulance. 
“Hotch could you please try your best to clear Y/n’s name. She didn’t actually kill the boyfriend and actually let him go. She was abused and she’s sick. I promised her that I won’t let her go to prison.” Spencer whispered to Hotch. 
“I’ll see what I can do. With her side of the story she has a strong chance of avoiding prison, but we’ll have to see. We might have to pull some strings, but for your sake I’ll try my best.” Hotch responded as Spencer hopped into the ambulance with Y/n.
-
Bright lights. Those were the first things Y/n had seen as she opened her eyes.  
“You’re awake!” Someone to her right said with a joy-filled voice. 
Y/n turned her head to see that it was Spencer, the one who had refused to shoot her. 
“Why didn’t you kill me.” Y/n asked in a hushed whisper. 
“You deserved to live Y/n. Your whole life you were abused, you didn’t know anything else. I wanted to help you.” Spencer answered, taking her hand into his. 
“But I’m still in trouble.” She spoke. 
“Your hearing is in a week but Hotch, my boss I guess, says that you have a pretty good chance of avoiding prison time, but you’ll need to attend counseling,” Spencer reassured her, gripping her hand tighter. 
“What about Drew?” Y/n asked fear laced in her voice. 
“Drew has a long record of assaults, rape, and domestic abuse. If I’m not wrong he’ll be the one going to prison.” Spencer answered calmly. 
Y/n instantly relaxed and signed in relief. Then she spoke again, “why do you care about me?”
Spencer looked shocked for a moment then answered, “I know how you feel, and I want to make sure you get your justice and help, then I want to be able to show you all the things you can live up to.” He lowered his head to her hand and kissed the back of it. 
“Thank you.” Y/n whispered.
-
3 years later. 
Y/n moved on from the events that had happened in her childhood home, never forgotten but never mentioned. She was free of charge of anything that had happened and is living a happy life with Spencer now. 
8 months after she had been released from under house arrest, Spencer had taken y/n out and from then their relationship with each other bloomed. They got engaged with each other after 9 months of dating, got married on Halloween, and moved on to have a beautiful set of twins. Lily and Zach Reid. They may only be 19 months old but they have already developed the brains of their father. 
Y/n was happy at last, she felt safe with her family, and she had made a whole bunch of new friends, her life had finally turned around.
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