#like i was giving people extra reasons to call it Bad even though those reasons were just in fic and i felt kind of weird about it? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artemis32 · 3 months

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Locksley

yandere Batfam x reader

yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months

also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested

word count - 4.8k

mbe masterlist

You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons.

Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others.

The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.

You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.

****

You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.

It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice.

You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.

Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.

No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves.

In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

Now, years later, the sentiment had faded.

You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor.

Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.

That was your job, your purpose in life.

It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.

Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves.

So you did.

And you never got caught. Not once.

Until you did.

****

This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.

As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.

The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them.

You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you.

Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.

Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.

It made you sick.

How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.

At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.

You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.

The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued.

Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you.

At least it was nice to look at.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.

It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life.

But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.

The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.

And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.

You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow.

Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:

Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.

Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty.

It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.

And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.

****

The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.

Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.

You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.

The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready.

Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.

Rich people were fucking dumb.

They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.

People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.

You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.

Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.

Someone’s here.

You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.

Fuck.

It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.

If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed.

You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.

Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.

When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.

The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?

One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.

Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.

As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking.

And he turned to look right at you.

You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.

Fuck.

He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago.

There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.

After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.

Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.

****

“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.”

It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.

So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.

“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”

He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.

“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”

If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.

“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”

The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.

Your blood runs cold.

Robin.

You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.

“Don’t move.”

For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.

“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list.

They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-

“How?”

Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”

You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.

“How did you find me?”

If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.

“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”

He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth.

“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”

Your blood chills in your veins.

So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.

“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”

At that moment, you weigh your options.

If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.

Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you…

No. You couldn’t go with him.

Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.

With your mind made up, everything else is easy.

You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.

Too slow. Faster. Move faster.

You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell.

He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.

Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.

It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.

Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.

In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study.

Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over.

So no, you didn’t regret your decision.

This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.

****

“Who is she?”

“Her name is-”

“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”

Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.

“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”

Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Her address. What is it?”

Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.

“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”

He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.

“It does matter. She stole from us. She–”

The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.

“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”

His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.

“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”

Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.

“Yes, Father. Of course.”

****

A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.

“Don’t.”

He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.

“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”

The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.

“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.

Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could.

You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering.

“Yes.”

He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.

You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.

“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions– You kidnapped a civilian!”

Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–

Towards you.

“She’s awake.”

That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring.

“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”

With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.

Bruce Wayne.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

…I’m so dead.

You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.

“Mr Wayne, I–”

He holds up a palm, silencing you.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”

He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.

“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”

Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.

“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”

A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment.

“Why is he so upset?”

You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.

“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?

He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.

“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”

Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.

“If he’s Robin, then…?”

A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.

“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”

A choked noise dies out in your chest.

Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?

His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.

You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”

Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.

#yandere #dark content #female reader #dc #batman #robin hood #yandere batfam x reader #x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #batfam #robin #red robin #dc robin #robin hood reader #batfam x reader

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igotanidea · 11 months

Text

Cheater - part 2

part 1

Warnings: SMUT -MINORS DNI PLEASE! heavy angst, heartbreak, poor life choices, trauma, drama

A/N: special thanks to @90s-belladonna - I kinda heard your comment :D, and sorry for all the spelling mistakes, it's waayyyy past midnight here but I just had to finish it.

Ok, here we go people. Get ready for angst in 3....2......1.....

***

„You sure as hell moved on pretty fast.”

“Come on, Dick, it’s been three months. Do you seriously expect me to cry over a guy who, may I remind you, cheated on me. And who, may I remind you as well, you wanted to beat to shit cause of that?”

“Hey, I’m just saying” Dick raised his hands in surrendering gesture “it’s just nice to see you smiling again.”

“Besides.” Y/N gave him a warning expression “Kyle and I are just friends. We are having fun together, but he is a freaking green lantern. Here one second and on the other side of the galaxy the other. You cannot quite rely on a guy like that to get into a serious relationship with.”

“Mhm, sure. Someone should probably tell him you think so.”

“Why?”

“Cause I can see the way he looks at you.”

“Which is how exactly?” the girl turned around, facing Dick, her eyes showing nothing more but a confusion.

“Like you are a piece of meat, Y/N. He surely wants something more than friendship.”

“Who? Kyle? He’s a resident flirt. He’s not treating me seriously, and neither do I him.”

“Right, whatever you say.”

“You are being paranoid Dick. I know you want to protect me and I appreciate that, truly” she put a hand on his shoulder making him look straight into her face “but I’m fine, I promise. And if anything wrong were to happen I know where to turn. You may have slightly different judgment, but all I’m asking is a little bit of trust. Can I have that, Dickie?”

“Fine! Fine! Have it your way. But. If he does anything. I mean, anything you don’t like, you tell me, all right?”

“All right, Mr. Vigilante. Even though with all the batman training I could probably kick his ass myself. But I promise.”

“Good. Have a nice date then.” he laughed leaving the room.

“It’s not a date!” he yelled after him

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, sunshine!”

***

After learning what Jason did (who was irrelevant at the moment) Y/N swore to herself she will not succumb into depression and bad thinking. Nope. It was not her fault, she was the victim and there was seriously no reason to dwell on the past. It hurt, sure it did, she loved him after all and such feeling cannot just be turned off, but slowly with Babs, Cass and Steph help she got back on her feet. This entire situation was particularly hard for Dick, since if nothing else Jace was his brother, but he was Y/N’s biggest support as well, helping her get her mind of things by giving her some serious vigilante training and let her join the team on the field. He would never do that under any other circumstances and Y/N appreciated that in every way possible.

So yes, after a month or so, she started to heal and let go, opening herself to life and putting her extra energy into patrols and night work. And that was how she met Kyle. It was actually quite easy. One day, on the titans meeting, while Y/N was discussing the details of newest mission with Donna he just dropped by, apparently because of some mission, and the girl instantly caught his attention. And given the fact that Kyle had a relationship with Wonder Girl it made it easier to push through to Y/N.

“So, who’s your little friend, Donna?” he asked, tilting his head and eyeing Y/N carefully.

“I’m sorry, who are you calling little, green?” Y/N scoffed “just because you ego is sky rocket high, does not mean I will let you diminish me.”

“All right, there’s no need to get defensive. You just seem like the newest member of the team and that makes you …. Well, little. Unexperienced. A greenie if I may say so. ”

“Kyle….” Donna warned the boy, but he let those words go.

“No offence here, little one, but maybe you should just go home and stay safe. Earth has many protectors who are way more qualified to do the job.”

“Ok, that’s it.” Y/N came right at him, before Donna or any other member of the Titans could stop her. He knew exactly what green lanterns were capable of so with just one perfect swing, turn and kick she managed to grab his ring, with which he was recklessly playing. Once her fingers clutched around the source of the boy’s power, taking him completely by surprise, she threw some of her shurikens in his direction, the force of the flying object, pinning Kyle to the wall.

“Hmmmm” he muttered easily breaking free and humming in admiration “I may have underestimated you.” he reached his hands toward her “I don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m Kyle Rayner, and who may you be, sunshine?”

***

Their relationship was rocky. There were teasing and playing on each other’s nerves, but also quiet moments together when no words were needed to fill the silence. There were fights and banters, but also supporting each other and tending to each other wounds. Y/N missed the fact that this was pretty similar to the other relationship she was before. Guess the girl had a type. But still, Kyle was just a friend to her. Maybe even a frenemy. Nothing more. Nothing. And that was why it was so hard for her to believe the truth behind Dick’s words. Did Kyle see more to their talking and meeting than it truly was? Did he want … more?

It was a bit too late to wonder about that, but her mind was just fixed on this thought.

Was that why he asked her out for tonight. Truly, Y/N believed it was just a casual outing, especially when he mentioned the possibility of his female friend joining him. Y/N was convinced, she was supposed to be the wingwoman and said friend was the one Kyle had his eyes on, but now, as she recollected how the guy asked her out, she realized how wrong she was all this time.

“Hey, Y/n” Kyle grabbed her waist from behind and not giving a damn about her kicking and screaming to put her down, spun her in the air “how about we go out next Saturday? Hm? Come on, say yes, you know it’s impossible to deny this handsome face.”

“First of all, get your hands off me, Rayner! And secondly, why would I say yes to you. You are a terrible person.”

“hmmm. You’ll get dinner for free, and perhaps a flower? How is that for an incentive?”

“That sounds better. I may be friends with a billionaire son, but still had to cut on expenses. How unfair is that?” she scoffed

“It’s settled than.” Kyle smirked “I’ll pick you up at 6 p.m., little one.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Not a chance” he bend over and pecked her cheek so quickly it was like it never happened “Oh, and one more thing. I have this one friend, who recently started going out with some new dude. She says there’s a bit awkwardness between them, though she paved over the reason. Anyway, I thought maybe we can show those two how nice and friendly it can be between a man and a woman?”

“Oh, so now I’m a woman?”

“Hush, little one. What I meant was that Artemis and her guy may be joining us, hope you don’t mind? We can still have….. “ he hesitated, his eyes fixed on his face and he had to fight an urge to lick his lips “fun.”

“I don’t really care who joins us.” Y/N waved her hands around dismissively “can I just go now?’

“Sure. I’ll see you soon, pretty.” He threw her directions and took off flying.

“Showoff.” She mumbled under her nose.

BUT WHAT THE HELL DID HE CALL HER?! PRETTY?!

***

Yes, she obviously misjudged Kyle’s intentions over her and that came out painfully clear when he knocked on her door, all dressed up, looking.. well, as much as she hated to admit it, handsome. Thank god, she put on a clear pair of jeans and her best shirt. Otherwise she would fell terribly underdressed.

“Hello, little one.” He smiled his signature flirty smile and handed her a single flower.

“One flower?” she raised an eyebrow taking it from his hand “what am I supposed to do with it? Smell and swoon over your charm?”

“told you it was gonna be a single one. Were you expecting more?”

“No.” she shook her head “let’s just go, all right. I’m actually pretty hungry and the sooner I meet that friend of yours, the sooner I will be free of talking to you.”

“Always a pleasure to be the one to be used by you.” Kyle grinned and motioned her to the car.

“SHUT UP!”

“You look so cute when you are flustered.” He cooed “now come on, get it the car. Are you waiting for me to open the door for you? Cause that may take some time.”

“I’m just reconsidering if my hunger is really worse than the pain of being in your company…..” she pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering what she just got herself into “Fine. Fine, I’ll get in. But just to be clear, I’m ordering the most expensive dish on the menu.”

“Which would probably be a burger and fries, but whatever you say, little one.”

“I HATE YOU, RAYNER!”

“Yeah, I love you too, Y/N.” he teased playfully, but somehow his tone was a bit different than usually.

Oh, she was terribly wrong with judging his intentions, and hell, apparently Dick was right.

***

Once they arrived at the destination, Kyle quickly noticed his friend already sitting in one of the booths. Her red hair were obviously distinctive so there was not a chance to miss the girl.

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Artemis, one of the biggest mischief there is. Artie….”

“Don’t call me Artie!”

“…. This is Y/N, the girl who though she could beat me the first time we met. Hopefully now she realizes how wrong she was.”

“Hi!” Y/N decided to ignore Kyle’s words and focus on the other girl, instead “I’m Y/N. Good to see I’m not the one who gets called by him.”

“That’s annoying, isn’t it? Maybe we should join forces in kicking his ass?” Artemis smiled

“Bet that would be a shame for him. Can you imagine? Beaten by two girls?” both of them laughed. This Artemis girl seemed nice.

“Ok, ladies, enough of your silly dreams. Where did you lost your boyfriend, Arty? Cause my girl mentioned something about trying to leave me broke and I can’t wait to see her try. How long will we have to wait for him?”

“He just went to the bathroom. Something about bracing himself. You can’t possibly realize how much effort I had to put in dragging him out tonight.”

“Girl, can we switch guys?” Y/N laughed “I would kill for a man who’d rather stay at home than make me go out.”

“Hmm, nice try, but I’m not giving up Jason so easily.”

“Jason?” Y/N froze for a second. No. No, this could not be…..

“Oh, there he is. Hey, Jace!” Artemis waved her hand in the direction of a black-haired guy. With a white strand of hair in the middle of the forehead. “We’re here.”

“Rayner.” Jason muttered, slipping into the booth.

“You never mentioned you were going out with Jay Todd!” Kyle laughed loudly “that is a hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Wait, you know each other?” Artemis’ gaze switched between two boys

“Long story full of hate and friendship.” Kyle laughed again. “Anyway, Jason, I’d like you to meet and probably get jealous of the pretty girl I came with tonight. No offence to your girlfriend present.”

“None taken.” Artemis shrugged and snuggled closer to Jason.

Jason, whose gaze travelled toward Y/N.

And then he realized and his eyes turned wide.

And what was even worse, she realized too. The girl who was so nice and sympathetic was also the one, Jason cheated on Y/N with.

“Hey, are you two all right there? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Jason stuttered, not really convincing anyone.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was sure as hell going to be a fucking interesting night.

***

The tension could literally be cut with a knife.

At least for Jason and Y/N since Kyle and Artemis were having so much fun together that if the other two were to disappear and never come back, none of them would even notice. While the lantern and the red head were just talking and talking and talking, the former Robin and the newest Titans member were focused on picking on their food, not even eating, just dragging it all over the plates, eyes down, unable to pretend. All those months of lying to herself and just by seeing him Y/N was falling back into the same trap.

Good thing she caught herself on repeating the same scenario.

“You are being awfully quiet, Y/N” Kyle finally realized whose voice was missing in the conversation “Todd here is a constant growler, but what happened to my little one?” he grabbed her waist pulling her closer and pinched her side, missing the furious glint in Jason’s eyes. Y/N did not and decided to use it.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you, Kyle. And you let me pick my own food, that is sooo kind of you.” she mocked “boys this days, right Artemis?’

“Sure…..” the other girl nodded “we are both lucky I guess, I mean Jace, despite his rather harsh outside is pretty friendly on the inside.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Y/N smiled, her eye travelling to Jason, who at this point was just clenching his jaw. “Kyle, honey! You should have told me you knew each other. I would be much better prepared for this date. Now I feel like I don’t know your friends at all and seem boring.”

“boring? Y/N, love….” Kyle immediately matched Y/N tone, not fully aware why she turned to be like this, but he liked that. “You are everything but boring.”

“Oh, stop it” he laughed in the silliest, girlish smile she could produce and pushed his chest lightly, playfully “you’re making me blush.”

“And that’s the prettiest blush in the galaxy.” Kyle brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, bringing his face closer to hers. “And I would know, I am the green lantern after all.”

That was simply enough for Jason. He could not control himself anymore, standing up abruptly, almost tripping the table and the dishes.

“Jason?” Artemis took his hand, rubbing it gently “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “I need to smoke.” Without any other word of explanation or apology he left the table, heading towards the back exit.

“I’m sorry.” Artemis sighed deeply “I told he’s been acting strange for a while now…..”

“Really?” Y/N sipped on her cocktail innocently “for how long exactly.”

“A few months actually. I’m not really sure what’s got into him…. Maybe I should go and check on him?”

“Leave it, Artie. I’m telling you, Todd is one hell of a strange man…..

“Can’t argue with that….” Y/N mumbled, but no one heard her.

“…. A closed book, you could never open unless he lets you in.”

“Right…..” the red head played with her knife, twisting it between her fingers skillfully. “Kyle, I … I really should talk to you in private later.”

“Whatever you have to say, you can do it in front of Y/N.”

“Nah.” Y/N shook her head “I’ll give you two a minute. I need to go to the bathroom either way.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Artemis eyed her apologetically.

“It’s all right. Just have your talk, I get it.” Oh, she did get it. Guilt was eating Artemis up and Y/N was definitely not going to be the one to sympathize with her. “Just let me know when you’re done.”

“You got it, pretty. I gotta take you back home safe after all.”

Y/N just send him a light smile and headed towards the bathroom, but before she could reach it, she felt a strong grip on her wrist and was dragged outside.

“What the fuck!?” she hissed, twisting her assaulter arm in a well-trained motion, but it backfired on her, once she noticed who the attacker was. “What the fuck, Jason!?”

“What are you doing with him!?”

“Why do you care?!”

“What are you doing with that pimp!?”

“Pimp?! Oh, I’m sorry, are you speaking from experience? Cause sure as hell you would recognize someone to do it that business.”

“Be careful with words now, princess.” Jason hissed

“Oh, you think you can scare me” she cooed “that is just so. damn. Cute. In case you didn’t notice things have changed. I’m not the helpless girl anymore. Dick….”

“Oh, I know what my brother did. I know he trained you and made you join Titans. Is that how you met Rayner? Are you going out with him now?’

“This is none of your damn business!” she yelled

“Isn’t it?” he hissed taking a step forward, pressing her into the building wall, trapping her between it and his body, her hands pinned on her sides.

“I can still kick your ass, you know.” she struggled against his grip. Damn it, he was strong, that one thing surely did not change.”

“Than do it, I dare you.” he mumbled into her ear and it made her shiver.

Focus Y/N - she thought to herself -remember what he did”

“how is it going with Artemis?” she kept her tone cool, not showing how his proximity was affecting her “she’s worried you don’t love her anymore, you know.” she pouted “such a shame. Wasting perfectly good relationship…. AUCH!” she yelled as Jason pressed her further into the wall, the cold stone hurting her back.

“Do you ever shut up?!” he hissed

“At least I’m running my mouth in all the right places!” she yelled trying to push him off “not where they should never wander!”

“How about I show you were they should wander.” His eyes glistened with lust and she shivered under the weight of it. Oh, hell no!

“Don’t even think about it!” she hissed, but he completely ignored her words, getting closer and closer to her face, his grip becoming iron clad, probably leaving bruises “GET THE FUCK OFF ME! KY….”

Before she could finish yelling the other guy’s name Jason’s lips were already on hers, moving rapidly, hungrily with the intensity that made her melt instantly. And hating herself for that. For a moment she was struggling to break free, but once his hands moved over to her waist, pressing her closer to him, wondering over her entire body, touching all the places only he knew about she completely gave up. Fuck, he just knew her body too well to even try to object. At the moment, her brain just stopped functioning, completely giving in to the desire he was igniting in her.

God, his mouth. His soft mouth, moving against her own, biting on the lower lip, causing her to moan involuntarily and let his tongue inside, exploring and claiming her.

“Jason…” she whined, fisting hands into his jacket, pulling him closer.

“Yes, princess. Keep saying my name. Tell me you missed me the way I missed you….” he tangled one hand in her hair, tilting her head and kissing her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and leaving a hickey. "Tell me….” He panted against her skin.

“I… I…..” she whimpered, still fighting not to give in completely, but slowly losing this fight “Fuck….” Poor girl could not hold back a whimper as Jason grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her into the wall once again, but this time making sure she did not feel any pain.

“Why did you came with that fucker, huh?” he mumbled playing with the hem of her shirt “out of every people on the planet it had to be him?” he grinded against her and damn, it reminded her of all the nights they spend together tangled in the sheets, when he was making her feel so good.

“Jace….” She moaned more, grabbing his neck and putting his mouth back down, kissing him back with desperation and need.

“You’re mine.” He hissed, letting go off her thigs, her whole weight leaning onto the wall as he started unzipping her pants “Fuck, you could have wear a skirt for once. But you know what, I’m actually glad you didn’t. Means you weren’t planning on doing anything with him.” He slid her pants and panties down a bit, putting her feet back onto the ground just to get them all the way to her ankles, getting on her knees in front of her, grabbing her ass now. “God I missed this. I missed you.” he breathed, kissing her leg up, slowly, tentatively, getting towards her inside thigh and stopping there for a second.

“Please…. “ she buckled her hips, head falling back and banging against the concrete. She didn’t care if anyone saw them here in quite compromising position. She needed him. She wanted him. She craved the way he always knew how to please her, how to satisfy her hunger “Please Jason….”

“What do you need princess?” he licked on her most sensitive part with the precision no one else could even begin to compete with and she let out that little kitten noise that always made him aware of how good he was doing. Jason Todd had a fucking praise kink and his pants were already tight. “tell me. You already got me on my knees, I’m listening.”

“I…I…. Ah! Jason!”

“Yes, princess?” he smirked, sucking on her clit “you’re so wet for me, and god, you taste just delicious….”

“I need you in me, now!”

“I got you covered.” He raised onto his feet, unzipping his own pants, ready for action, once again lifting her up, spreading her wide and pushing in. Fuck, he was fucking her in a public place and what spurred him on even more was that she let him. He made a mistake of ever letting her go. Of cheating on her. He would do everything to get her back, to make her forgive him, to come back into her life. Anything. Artemis might have been hot and good in bed, but Y/n and him shared a connection, a deep bond, they had history. Surely that must have meant something to her, right? Right?

They were going to talk later and he would explain everything, begging for her but as for now all the was focused on was making her cum, reminding her how good he could make her feel. He. No one else. Not Rayner or any other fucker. He. Jason Todd. The one bound to her, left at her mercy.

God, she felt so good, so tight, so warm around him when he was snapping his hips against her, getting lost in all the sweet sounds she was making for him.

“Baby….” He whispered kissing her with undeniable passion ‘you’re mine….. you’re only mine. Say it. Tell me you still love me. ” he begged slowly losing his mind over the sensations

“I…. Ah! Don’t stop. Jace. Fuck, don’t stop” she pressed herself onto him, picking up the pace, fire inside her begging to be released. “Please, please, oh, please, Jace.” He nails dig into his back and he welcomed that familiar pain.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

“So… close… “ she panted, her breath ragged.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. Make you cum so fast, so hard. No one else. Not a one-night stand and definitely not Rayner.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” she screamed as he finally took her over the edge, her orgasm overwhelming her whole, her body shaking in his arms as he held her tight, caressing her back and sides, whispering praises and sweet nothings into her ear, following soon after, coming inside her. What he didn’t know was that she screamed not only because of the intensity of the orgasm, but also because she realized Kyle was still inside the diner. With Artemis. Artemis with whom Jason cheated Y/N on.

Fuck, he made a terrible mistake.

“Princess” Jason mumbled, still bemused by claiming her like this, pretty sure now that he made her come they would talk and clear things out “I love you….”

“Fuck you, Todd!” much to his surprise she pushed him away, tear gathering in her eyes.

“I don’t …. What….?”

“You fucking idiot! You stupid scumbag!” she cried out, bending for her pants and panties and putting them back on. God, she fell for him again. stupid, stupid, stupid

“Baby….” He reached for her cheek, but she slapped his hand hard

“Get away from me! I’m warning you.”

“But I …. I….. I want you back….” He stuttered “I’m sorry for what I did, I am. Losing you made me realize…”

“Oh just shut the fuck up. You used me. Again .That’s all it was. And fuck, I let you. And hey, you just cheated on your girl, who you previously cheated with. Funny, isn’t it?” she smiled sourly, wiping away the tears. “Guess the history repeat itself. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Anyway, I am going home….”

“At least let me take you.” his eyes were futilely searching hers “We can talk when you calm down, baby.

“Talk!?” she snapped “I don’t ever, ever, ever, want to see you again! And I can go by myself, definitely not with you. Good luck explaining to Kyle and …. Her… where I went.” She turned on her feet, angrily walking away.

He fucked up. Again .

***

“Dick…..” she showed up on her best friend’s doorstep, shaking, crying, freezing to death.

“Y/N? What happened?” Dick instantly pull her into his chest and inside, rubbing her back just to warm her up a bit.

“I…. I did something terrible. I… I let….”

“Shh…” Dick cooed “breathe. Just breathe, all right? I’ll get you something to drink, you will take a shower and some rest and then tell me, ok?”

“O.. ok…” she stuttered

“Whatever happened, whatever Jason did to you, I’m here. I’ll help you.”

“How….how do you know…..?”

“I know you are not shaking like that because of Kyle. He’s a prick but he wouldn’t hurt you. My brother on the other side…” he shook his head “I guess I will have to kill him.”

“No, please, just stay with me.” She clung onto him desperately searching for safety and reassurance "I don;t want to be alone...." her sob was just so terrible it made Dick tighten the hug.

“I’m not going anywhere. At least for now…..”

To be continued?

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ao3cassandraic · 9 months

Text

What does Aziraphale know and when does he know it? Part 2, The Chinwag

Prologue and Part 1, for those who need them.

The chinwag is written and shot in two timeframes: as it's happening, and as Aziraphale retells it to Crowley. That's a fair wodge of extra production expense, compared to just having Aziraphale retell the story. There's got to be a reason for it (beyond additional Derek Jacobi, which is never bad).

I think the reason is so that we-the-viewers can check the congruence between actual events and Aziraphale's retelling, also between Aziraphale's emotional reactions to the Metatron and the emotions he pours out to Crowley. (Remember, Aziraphale is a lying liar who lies!) Also, as some meta-ists have already pointed out, to leave the possibility open that we are not getting the whole story in either frame -- there's likely some interaction that we aren't shown and that Aziraphale doesn't tell Crowley about.

But why wouldn't Aziraphale tell Crowley everything? Hold that thought (though if you've read through my metas, you already know my answer).

The chronology of the chinwag is very tangled in-show (we first see the very end of it!) so I'm going to disentangle it here, as best I can.

Aziraphale tells Crowley, "[The Metatron] said that Gabriel obviously hadn't worked out... and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven..." Then we cut to the actual chinwag. Aziraphale looks a bit how-is-this-my-problem-exactly, and gives the obvious bureaucratic corporate yes-person (well, yes-angel) answer: Michael.

And the Metatron calls him silly for it. The Metatron has just insulted Gabriel, Michael, and Aziraphale in practically the same breath; if Aziraphale had had any doubts about contempt being fundamental to the Metatron's personality, they've been blown away now.

The Metatron: "... there's only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense." Aziraphale's reaction shot: polite interest in his face, but his hands appear clasped together under the table -- he's stressed and he's hiding things. "And that's you."

And we don't get Aziraphale's actual reaction to this -- we cut back to Aziraphale telling Crowley. I know what I think Aziraphale's actual reaction, and how he expressed it, were -- and I don't think for an instant they were the same -- but by all means consider for yourself. The show wants you to. Also consider whether either of those is the same as the excitement he projects toward Crowley. My cards on the table, and a sneak peek of the next post in this series: I don't think so. I think Aziraphale retelling this story is Aziraphalean kayfabe. The Metatron wants and expects him to be excited, so he's acting excited.

We then cut back to the Metatron's actual words: "Well, yes, you're a leader, you're honest, you don't just tell people what they want to hear; it's why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine."

There is not one word of this that is not bullshit. Starting from the end, Aziraphale knows why Jimbriel came to him, because he asked and the utterly guileless Jimbriel told him. It had nothing to do with leadership or honesty; it was because Jimbriel had a strong, if vague, impression that Aziraphale was the one being who could and would improve Jimbriel's situation. (Other metas from other meta-ists discuss why Jimbriel might feel this way.) The rest of the Metatron's line is manipulative generic corporate-style flattery having zero intersection with the phalanx-refusing, frequently-deceitful, go-along-to-get-along angel we all know and love.

So is Aziraphale buying the Metatron's love-bombing? I mean, it's wholly plausible that an angel would buy it, just out of sheer emotional desperation; Heaven's angels -- those who even remain after the Great War and the mass Fall -- are pitifully love- and approval-starved. Aziraphale himself has barely gotten a kind word from Heaven in his entire existence, and he's had plenty of reprimands. Gabriel didn't get a single gift in six thousand years. Lonely, obliging, bottom-of-the-hierarchy Muriel practically plotzes at the least slightest hint of approval from anyone ever.

There's only one angel on Earth or in Heaven who knows genuine, sustained love and support, though, now that Gabriel is gone -- and it's Aziraphale. I look at Aziraphale's face after the Metatron drops that love bomb, and I see no hint of joy or warmth or Muriel-like gratitude. He's not buying it. Aziraphale knows what love is, and this ain't it. (Crowley rescues Aziraphale once again, and he's not even there! I love this.)

What Aziraphale knows at this point:

The Metatron wants him back in Heaven.

Given the Metatron's habitual contempt for everyone around him, and given the blatant lies with which he expresses respect for Aziraphale, the Metatron must be lying about that respect. So whatever his reasons for wanting Aziraphale in Heaven, they're not his stated reasons about Aziraphale being suited to the job.

The Metatron is really buttering him up! "Second-in-command after me" is a pretty solid bribe! A lot bigger than a coffee! And the Metatron doesn't butter anybody else up! So the Metatron has clearly (and likely correctly) determined that ordering Aziraphale around doesn't work -- Aziraphale has a history of defying blatant orders, both openly and by working-to-rule. (The Metatron may or may not know the full details of the Arrangement, but of course it is another example.)

The Metatron is neither omniscient nor infallible. He doesn't know why Jimbriel went to Aziraphale. He doesn't know what line of patter will serve as a suitable love bomb. He can likely be fooled.

What Aziraphale likely wants to know at this point:

What. The fuck. Does the fucking Metatron. Actually want from him.

What. The fuck. Is the fucking Metatron. Actually up to. Because the Metatron has gone a long way out of his way -- en-corporating, coming to Earth, grabbing a coffee, saving Aziraphale from Michael, holding Muriel in reserve, separating Aziraphale from Crowley, pouring poison into Aziraphale's ear (Hamlet allusion, anyone?) -- to further whatever his aims are.

The Metatron, next: "There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them. You are just the angel for the job."

Aziraphale's face, in the next shot, is still full of worry. That's a partial answer to the questions in his mind, but far from a complete one. So he plays to keep the Metatron talking, hoping that will make things clearer. "I… I don't want to go back to Heaven. Where would I get my coffee?" (He doesn't want coffee on a regular basis. He's a tea drinker! This is a prevarication. There is no trust at this table.)

The Metatron, rather than answering, raises his bribe. "You know, as supreme archangel, you would be able to decide whom to work with. I've been looking back over a number of your previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon Crowley. Now, if you wanted to work with him again, that might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status."

I quoted the whole thing because whew, it's crucial and it's layered.

What Aziraphale now knows:

The Metatron sure doesn't look to be taking no for an answer.

The Metatron knows something -- how much isn't clear, but likely something fairly significant -- about the Ineffable Husbands' shenanigans through the ages. He's been studying them. (Which I find chilling, honestly, but I'm a privacy wonk so I would.)

The Metatron knows Aziraphale and Crowley are friends, important to one another; he up and said so.

The Metatron might not mind if Aziraphale got some of his own back from the other archangels. "Deciding whom to work with" in a corporate bureaucracy often means deciding whom to fire, after all. This, too, might be part of the bribe.

The Metatron is somewhat willing to let Crowley return to Heaven. Only as an angel, though, no more bee!demon. He doesn't seem enthusiastic at the prospect, however, or he'd have offered this tidbit already.

What Aziraphale likely wants to know:

The two questions he still has. They have not been answered.

What. The actual fuck. Are these plans and projects? Are they real or are they get-Aziraphale-out-of-the-way make-work?

Is the offer for Crowley on the level? (Nothing else has been so far!) Or is the Metatron's raise not bribery, but blackmail?

As for how Aziraphale responds to this: No joy, warmth, or pleasure, none. His eyes shift quickly when the Metatron first says Crowley's name, and if anything he looks even more worried for a moment. And again, we aren't allowed to see Aziraphale's actual reaction to the raised bribe offer.

If I'm Aziraphale, being railroaded into this return to Heaven by this extremely powerful and worrisomely sketchy being, I sure would want my right-hand demon at my, er, right hand. I'm just saying.

The temporally-last chunk of the chinwag is the Metatron bringing this weird unsavory job offer to a corporately-scripted close: "Well, you don't have to answer immediately. Take all the time you need." Aziraphale plays for additional information, again, by echoing Gabriel's stunned reaction, "I don't know what to say." Note that this is not an eager yes, or any kind of yes at all! Not even the possibility of Crowley being an angel again has managed to wring assent out of Aziraphale! He's the actual opposite of all in on this!

But the Metatron refuses to give any additional information, leaving Aziraphale with a lot of unanswered questions. And he gives Aziraphale an explicit direct order, which is decidedly peremptory of him, considering. "Well then, go and tell your friend the good news."

We see Aziraphale respond to this with his very best go-along-to-get-along faces. He then crosses the street toward the bookshop; his back is turned to the Metatron at last, so he can let out a bit more of whatever he's feeling. What does he do? He takes a deep breath, flashes the Metatron one more brief placating smile, physically pulls himself together, and walks stiffly across the street with another pulling-himself-together gasp for breath in the middle.

This is not a joyous angel returning to his right-hand demon with joyous news. This is an angel with a lot of unanswered questions who's worried sick and unable to let down his guard fully.

Notice, by the way, that the Metatron then goes and has his little insultingly condescending interaction with Muriel, and then he turns back toward the bookshop and stands there. Like Furfur's zombies peering into the magic shop in 1941, he's watching Aziraphale and Crowley from a distance through the bookshop windows. Can he read lips? Who knows. But he's watching.

Next up: The Fiasco.

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #the fucking metatron #aziraphale #the final fifteen minutes #good omens meta #good omens

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wandasgf · 9 months

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PROLOGUE: XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS. mdni. 18+. series masterlist

pairings: eventual wanda maximoff + mutant!reader, brief illyana rasputin + reader (platonic)

summary: a look through reader's childhood into adulthood

warnings: fem ! reader, reader is around 25/26, angst, slight descriptions of violence, this uses some ideas based on marvel's midnight suns; namely that version of agatha

wc: 1.7k~

next part >

“If you all would like something to fear me for, I will give it to you. You need not worry.”

That was the last thing you said to your… ‘classmates’ at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters all those years ago. What a cruel joke that invitation must have been, an attempted olive branch that was never meant to actually flourish. Though it had not been all bad, and as much as you wanted to, even you could not pretend that was the case.

No, it wasn't all horrible. In fact, it started out quite nice. You were only 11, so you were little threat to anyone even at your strongest. And in the beginning, everyone had tried being optimistic given Agatha’s warning: to nurture is to let the light in, and to fear is to welcome the darkness. No, no one had a problem with you then. It was only when you started to age, started to strengthen, that people became weary. You're still not sure what your teachers had expected to happen when they had you training for hours each day. Were you supposed to grow weaker? If you were, that was not the best course of action.

When your powers grew is when the warning was seemingly forgotten. You could feel it, though their outward behavior did not change very much, you could feel their fear. The fear that even if they had previously been doing their best to keep the darkness from seeping in, that it would slip through the cracks they did not see. And, well, this was a crack they did not see.

Not everyone had acted this way. There were days where you could find solace in Jean, in Illyana. They did not fear you as the others did. Jean continued to train you as she usually would and Illyana kept you as her closest friend. Though she did not say it often as she was not fond of the ‘f word’, but you knew, even if she didn't say it out loud, and that was all that mattered. Illyana had been an easy friend to you, even if she was not to others. There was an understanding between the two of you, a bond between the queen of Limbo and a daughter, but even that had not been enough.

The crack only got bigger when you had started to hear the whispering, the quiet conversations between your teachers that you weren't supposed to hear. You hadn't meant to eavesdrop, because quite frankly you didn't care what any of the teachers besides Jean had to say, or so you thought. But when you heard your name mixed into what they were saying, you couldn't help the way your chest tightened. Evil. Bad news. They can feel the change in the air when you’re training. They knew they shouldn't have offered to take you in. You may be your mother's daughter, but that does not mean that their words didn't hurt or that they hurt any less.

Illyana had held you that night while you cried, cursed and mumbled in Russian about how she was going to drop their beds through portals and into Limbo while they slept that night. You had made her promise not to, you didn't want to prove them right, give them a reason to kick you out of the place you called home for the past 4 years. This, of course, made no difference. The damage had already been done, their words had wormed their way into your mind and made homes there. You were evil, you were bad news, and everyone you've come to hold dear thought so.

That night when you fell asleep was the first time you dreamt of your mother. It was the first time, even if in a dream, that you felt your mother’s comfort. She had never been present in your life, something that everyone around you had always seemed to take extra care in ensuring, and you only really knew what she looked like from photographs. You knew it was a dream, you knew she had died many years ago, but when you woke up you swore you could feel her lingering touch. However, you quickly dismissed it when Illyana sleepily grumbled that you were very cuddly when you were asleep. That lingering touch had been Illyana’s, not your dead mother’s.

You lasted one more year with your mother in your dreams and the whispers in the hallways before you snapped. Almost killing Jean Grey was something you would always regret. If you ever saw her again you would apologize, you knew it was an overreaction and you wish you’d had it in you at the time to react rationally.

You know she didn't see it coming because if she did, you're sure she would have done something to stop it. To hear the one teacher you had confided in and trusted for the past five years talk about sending you away had been devastating. It made you feel things you hadn't even thought you could. You acted before you thought, a dark green mist circling Jean before it latched onto her heart and filled her lungs. You let it all out as your hands shook in front of you, your arms straight out as your dark magic left your fingertips. Tears of anger and betrayal, humiliation, slid down your cheeks as you yelled at her. About how you trusted her, how you thought she was different.

It wasn't until Illyana had stepped in front of you, almost gotten herself hurt, that you stopped, that you realized what you were really doing. You wanted to puke as you took in the sight in front of you, Jean on her knees on the ground gasping for breath and clawing at her throat, green slowly started to fade away from her skin. Illyana looking at you with eyes widened just the slightest and a look that told you she might have sent you to Limbo if you kept going. You wanted to sob, to beg for forgiveness, tell Jean how sorry you were, tell Illyana you hadn't meant to do that. You didn't do any of those things. Instead, you said the words you would never be able to take back and began your descent into darkness.

You stand up from your desk abruptly and run your hands through your hair, your chair scraping against the floor before the wheels position themselves correctly. Now was no time to dwell on the past. What's done is done and there was nothing you could do about it now. It’s been a few years since you hid yourself from the world, 10 since you left the school, so the piece of mail sitting on your desk addressed to a name you hadn't been called in a decade is a little perplexing— and a little nostalgic in a way you weren't expecting.

You haven't opened it yet, perhaps you wish it would just disappear. The lack of sender address is equally as perplexing as the name it's addressed to. Who could have possibly found you? You'd lived up to your words to the mutants in this past decade, they had feared you and for good reason. You had only grown stronger in your absence. “Am I frightened of a piece of paper? God, I’ve grown weak,” you muse to yourself before you pick the envelope up off the desk.

You rip it open like you would if you were taking off a bandage, quick and nervous. Inside of the envelope is what looks like a photo of a page in an old book and a small note. You can't read the script of the book, but for some reason you feel like you know what it says and you feel the magic in your veins hum in a way that isn't pleasant or unpleasant. The note reads as follows and there is an address on the back:

Dearest daughter (or as close as it gets),

I know I have been absent these past years, but I must let you know that the prophecy has begun. Will you fulfill it or will you change your future? You may not like working with a team, but a teammate is necessary to overcome that which you were meant for. For better or for worse, you and the Scarlet Witch are bound. Only you can decide to let the light in again. Perhaps you will use this address for good.

— Agatha

Seeing that name again makes your heart stop for just a moment and you drop the note on the desk. You want to be mad at her, you want to be angry, you want to feel how you did with Jean because you know it's justified this time. You want to be angry because Agatha left you. She took you to that school and she left you! She's a coward and she dropped you off and never looked back. But you can't be mad because you know she thought she was doing what was best, sending you somewhere with other kids like you. Somewhere you could be protected from your mother and her influence. But you can't help but think that she could have done the same thing that the Xavier school had. She had magic and she could have trained you and kept you on the right path, she could have fixed you before you were even broken.

You find yourself getting caught in the past again and you bury your face in your hands, dropping back down into your chair and groaning loudly. “Why must you drag me into things like this?” You wonder aloud, not that Agatha could respond or anyone for that matter. You are quite alone right now, as you have been for a few years.

You could ignore it entirely, you had no obligation to listen to Agatha. After all, apparently she has had your address all this time and hasn't bothered to come visit. But you can't ignore the humming in your veins and the gnawing feelings at the back of your head that this is something you must do. You wouldn't call it a moral compass, but you've developed an unfortunate want to do things that balance your darkness with light these past few years, it was getting on your nerves.

You pick the note back up and look at the address on the back. The Avenger’s tower? You suppose that's where you'll have to go to find the Scarlet Witch.

#alice's fics !#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #illyana rasputin x reader

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peachfruitcake · 2 months

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did you hear about what Martin said about Susan and Linda on the Twitter space he hosted on the 27th? i thought of you instantly when he started talking about them and have been waiting for you to post your thoughts! :-)

HEHE YES IM THE ONE WHO’S QUESTION LED TO THAT!!!!!

Now for those who didn’t listen to that space, Martin said that Linda called her to say goodbye but never specified how it went of course. Besides “hey Susan I’m leaving sorry this is really impacting my mental health” “gaaaaaaaaaaey”/j

This is all a personal headcanon but I like to think that their friendship grew incredibly distant ever since Linda married Felix, Susan probably stopped talking to her altogether for a while and it would leave Linda very confused and upset. They might’ve started talking to eachother again a little bit as the series of events began to approach but only very brief small talk, maybe Linda complaining a little and giving Susan a few life updates and them both talking about stuff they’ve been noticing with others lately (especially Felix’s drinking), but nothing deeper than that.

I see Susan being extremely emotionally closed off to most people except maybe a select few that she knows very closely, so if you were to ask her what’s going on in her life she’d give you a very vaguely watered down version and not what’s actually going on or how she’s really managing herself emotionally.

So basically she used to be more open with Linda, but during that period she sort of just started treating her like a stranger.

So when Linda called her first to tell her that she’s finally leaving, Susan acted how she usually would, keeping it calm, understanding and respectful and wishing her luck, but she won’t really show any more than that. Or that she cried later and felt pretty bad that they couldn’t be so close anymore and that she’ll probably never be able to make up for herself acting so distant for the past many years again.

Of course this all comes from how I view Susan as a character myself though and also the fact that I refuse to pass up the idea that she has feelings for Linda. I like to think that she introduced her to Felix cuz Linda was getting more desperate to find a relationship and Susan was getting weird thoughts so in a panic she shoved her off to him so she could avoid the urges. They’ve been boiling within her since highschool and she always was able to push them aside or excuse them as “she’s just my very close friend I don’t have many close friends so she feels extra special” and as the years went by they began distracting her a lot from her work and were growing stronger and more unavoidable aaand they were really beginning to affect how she’d interact with Linda and you see Susan hates feeling like another has any control over her and Linda just wouldn’t shut up about hooooow badly she wants a relationship and hoooow many dates keep failing and Susan was at the point to where she was starting to get the kind of dreams that make you stare up at the ceiling in horror when you open your eyes in the morning so one day when she overheard Felix speaking about being single and wanting to start looking around, she decided to introduce her to him. Susan allegedly never finds a problem she can’t fix in some way so that was her solution.

They hit it off, Susan’s solution isn’t working for some reason cuz she doesn’t feel any relief at all and in fact feels worse but just sucks it up and just focuses on her work and looks the other way. Linda and Felix get married, Susan feels like throwing up the entire day and now feels somehow even more worse by now and suddenly whenever Linda wants to chat she’s suddenly always “busy” every time. Susan’s often busy anyways but you know yourself when there’s a difference between “shit I’m busy that day, let’s do Sunday instead” and “Sorry I can’t, I’m busy”, “I don’t know when I’ll be available.”

While Linda and Felix were dating, Susan probably assumed that she was just jealous that she couldn’t have a little fun at her age herself. When they got married, Susan told herself that she’s probably so depressed over it cuz it’s making her feel like she’s fallen behind others her age and that maybe she feels bitter that all of these people are moving on and going through these important life stages while she remains behind. Which made no sense otherwise cuz Susan couldn’t give any less of a fuck about starting any sort of family or going out. But that’s what Susan would tell herself that she feels so she wouldn’t have to think about it any further. By the time Susan thinks she’s over whatever it was, she begins having brief talks with Linda occasionally. Not often and still a bit distant, but way better than before.

So yeah can you imagine how shitty and guilty Susan felt that whole time of her weird bitterness toward Linda being in a relationship and not being able to approach her much anymore or how Felix turned out to be such a shitty husband.

If this headcanon is aligned with twf’s canon, she’d probably be dead before she even gets to actually acknowledge and accept her feelings as they are. Such is life though. Not like she could’ve done anything about it.

#tldr Susan is emotionally stunted as fuck and has no idea how to identify her emotions and struggles a lot with strong emotions. she’s the #poor bastard type to stand there light a deer in headlights whenever someone cries around her #you ask her how she feels and she doesn’t react on the outside and is like ‘it’s cool’ but deep down she’s falling to her knees and crying #plus she’s a busy woman and got no time for gay shit like pining #idk if u wanted that whole hc ramble but take it anyways (˘◡˘)#it’s cool that you thought of me though!!! means a lot I like it when I’m the first someone thinks of when it comes to susan Woodings :^)#now if you’ll excuse me my sleep gummy is kicking in #the walten files #twf #sulinda #twf sulinda #twf susan x linda #the walten files susan x linda #linda thompson #susan Woodings #headcanons #I remember after Martin announced them being school friends and that Susan introduced her to Felix I made a post mentioning how I see her #haven done that to push Linda away so she could avoid her attraction fo her and how that blew up in her face lol #and he liked the post heehee obv I know that that doesn’t mean it’s canon but it is to me 😁😁😁😁🌼#i stg if this is incomprehensible to read #I’m too tired to proofread and I just wanna post this lol

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fire-emblem-poll · 6 months

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Johnny Cage analysis part 1

Let’s get a few things out of the way, one being the “bimbo-fication” of Johnny Cage. I’ve seen (mostly on TikTok) saying Johnny is very stupid and some saying he wouldn’t understand what you are saying 80% of the time. Then in turn making him a massive slut and doing anything to get fame.

This I can disprove just by playing the game, background info, and extra items around the house. Example: Sento, previous movies, and his college education.

Sure he’s not the brightest man, far from it, but this man had to be a little smart if he got a degree in Quantum Mechanics. He also knew the story of Sento, thus why it’s one reason to not giving it up to Kenshi (who I could also write so so much about) since he thinks Kenshi is lying.

Then you also have to be pretty smart and a strong willed to do a scene for 40 takes to get absolutely perfect. He want’s everything he does to be perfect and that also requires you to memorize a script.

Yeah he’s full of himself but I think it’s just a front he shows people. You can see it crack after the scene Kenshi’s eyes get stabbed out, showing he cares for someone else other than himself.

You know who he didn’t show that to? Kris. He gave her only what I can call excuses. I think at the end of MK1 he realizes she was right. Though it took her taking almost everything in the divorce to realize.

Though it shows he’s happy, still joking around in his intros and even in the tutorial of the campaigns(?). Plus he’s willing to ask for help.

—————-

Something else I wanna touch on is Johnny’s bad mannerisms. In his intros with Omni-man it can be implied that Johnny didn’t have a good father figure in his life.

I don’t know if this implies to the MK1 timeline but it’s implied that he didn’t have a good childhood with no one in his family seeming to like him.

Then with MK11 he is trying to be a better father than his father was to Cassie, basically saying “yeah dad made us (younger clone) bad, but Hollywood made us worse.”

I’m going back to MK1 now, it shows in his living room(?) that he has a bar, now I know people have bars in basements, garages, and maybe a whole room dedicated to it but never the living room.

Then right before Kenshi enters looking for Sento, I think it’s implied he was prepared to drink himself to sleep for the night. Since his wife left him, no one wants to hire him, and he’s having financial issues.

As well as having bad habits if he goes against himself he asks if “he’s still sleeping off (name)’s party.” Implying he has done several things damaging to his health.

Maybe not all the time but I think those two things, maybe even more examples

That’s it for right now, honestly shout out to my boyfriend for talking to me about the awful mischaracterization of him. Simply because I got pissed off at getting 3 posts in a row about babying Johnny Cage.

(Also I have several strong opinions on how people talk about Kenshi, sorry guys people not understanding Sento’s power is showing, also I’m scheduling this for when I go into work just in case people want to add something)

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rin-and-jade · 9 months

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So, you're a system.

How do you keep a properly working (team/coop wise) collective? How can i establish a foundation for my system? How can having sys rules be beneficial, compared to the freestyle form? How can i propose and create foundations/rules to others?... Today, i will answer all of these questions. For those who are searching a comprehensive guide + awareness 'round this topic, this post is for you!

About working together..

Ofcourse, teamwork plays an important factor on how well we can tackle problems or obstacles in real life, no one can handle too much workload all at once,, so its obvious that we need help from our other parts.. but how can it be better? It could look like:

Assigning specific parts that does best at something to take over a situation, do not brave your way through if you're not great at it,, let someone else do the job for you, it keeps miscalculation and etc away.

Initiatively ask for a collective opinion if you feel unsure, it's not best to forcefully do it yourself as it might be a rash decision or missing a couple insights that's needed.

This should already be sufficient, but it can get even better if you have rules, as everything can be organized with protocols and doing work without having to be asked again, give those gatekeepers a break will ya.

Introducing the idea..

Have you ever spot some inefficiency, conflicts, and recklessness of safety and problems with switching/fronting in your system? Why not bring those concerns and tell that you have a great idea (even though its just by you reading this) by establishing a foundation, it should work.. but if it hasn't yet,, i'll tell you why having one is beneficial.

Rules are meant to be broken!.. Or actually not?

I'm not saying freestyle is a bad way to live your plural life, though, it does mean you will still have to face some consequences due to that result of freedom.. Some few examples can look like this:

Fronting without being recapped by others.

Fronting without your own notice and now you're confused.

Someone did some impulsive buying when you're away (the realest one i've seen amongst my friends)

Missing out extra details that should be important to be aware of.

The front being hogged all the time. Yikes.

Having a confusing timeline and memories scrambled everywhere.

And more..

With established rules, these problems will go away and its one more extra less headache for your life,, rebellious acts is still possible but remember that breaking them means there's responsibility to come. As a system with a great foundation for long-term efficiency and handling problems, not following the basic rules can cause some trouble in daily performance. Do you still want to be in freestyle?

Alright, how do i make one..?

To make a foundation, we'll have to encapsulate some aspects such as communication, switching and fronting etiquettes, ways to resolve, emergencies or backups, and anything else you can think of. I'll provide my system's rules in hopes you can take inspirations and grow your own according to needs!

Switching: We're gonna have to tell the others if we're done fronting. It's highly adviced to recap the person who wants to be out next, sure amnesia barriers are low enough to be aware, but the point is the person doesn't fully know of what had happened or needed to know, so this one fixes the problem.

Fronting: We have minimum and maximum lengths for someone who can be out, for the least as 3 days and max as 2 weeks. This prevents too many switches that will disrupt memory formation that will be shared for communal reasons and also means people don't have to fight for front and call dibs to have their own time, in turns.

Resolution: If it's something minor and can be done in it's own power, there is no need for intervention. We're not allowed to bail responsibility and double it to the next person, instead, a higher up will either come by itself as because its the job, or should be called to provide assistance.

Conflicts: Not like we're immune to having fights, but getting reminded by someone else that it is not the best way to solve things helps diffuse lots of unnecessary problems. This rule was made because back then my people would fight over each other and run to the front, do its thing, to spite the other.. even worse if what it did was rash and caused more issues.

Health: It is also necessary to let others know our own status (level of fatigue from being out, mental and emotional being) and depending on the situation, the person should switch out to get a break and rejuvenate,, forcing ourselves to function beyond our capacity will cause a burn out and no one wants that, right?

Backups: This is used when someone at front passed out or become distressed for all kinds of reasons, then need someone else that is safe to takeover and mask in real life, most of my system's work is internal so the one being out (external) is also an important role because they have to do the things, guided from inside.

I hope these will serve as an insight for you,, remember that we have to strike a balance between being adaptive and structured.. which means we can't rely too much on rigid rules or the lack of structure at the first place. Rules are always changed and updated depending on outcomes and leaving room for improvisation and creativity. So remember, yes you can kick the red cones on the street but never should you defy sys rules,, see you next time!

- j

#did #actually did #did community #did osdd #did system #dissociative identity disorder #plural #system stuff #sysblr #jeducates

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quitealotofsodapop · 5 months

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(Hope you're feeling better! Sending positive vibes to you!)

I've been thinking about Sandy...

We all love the big blue river man, but...I feel like he shouldn't already be the loveable giant we know and love when Shadowpeach get to Pigsy's just after the 'conception'.

Dunno, I think it would be, like, a disservice? Is that the word I want, something like that, to Sandy and his path of becoming a better person, right?

Like, Pigsy didn't know about the change when AHIB was going on, so it had to happen after they last saw each other.

Maybe it just happened sooner in TMKATI, but what if!

What if, Sandy comes to the noodle shop and wants to talk, and maybe the subject of the 'young couple with a baby on the way' comes up and he gets the tea on the situation from what Freenoodles understand - both from observation and the vague description, giving them the vibe of 'hiding from bad people (that might be family)' (or something).

As he learned, he meets the 'youngsters' and gets to know them.

But maybe one day, he was already at an 89 and something pushes him to a 90 and hello, temper.

But before something bad can happen, Sandy looks and sees 'Wu' standing in front of 'Mihou' in a defensive stance, eyes vary.

Maybe that's the moment? That he realizes he needs to - and importantly wants to - be better. To be a support system for these two 'kids' that do need help.

Also, interesting thought: somebody said that it looked like Macaque and Sandy are opposites, that Macaque started out as a more quiet voice of reason and is now, well, very much not. While Sandy started out violent and became a peaceful voice of reason.

That is interesting and I do love me some moon/ocean symbolism, so a friendship would be cool.

They could also be yoga buddies (because yoga does help with flexibility during a pregnancy, if I believe the internet), so common activity!

Y'know?

OOOoof. Yes.

Sandy at the start of the TMKATI au is not exactly the soft himbo we know and love from the main series just yet.

Pigsy and him had a falling out some time ago, but Pigsy decides to call Sandy up for "protection" after Macaque gets freaked out by a Bad Encounter during New Years. Said encounter was a certain bone-demon thrall delivering a threat, but to those on the outside looked like some kind of trouble, legal or otherwise. Best to have your strongest guy around if something pops off, you know?

So now Sandy is in the loop with the noodle shop gang about "the kids with a kid on the way". They all assume that Shadowpeach are in a situation of hiding from Underworld authorities, angry family members, or something more sinister. Sandy is like "Hell yeah brother. I'll punch a few demons if they come near the shop!"

Which would be fine except; 1: Wukong 100% recognises Sandy from somewhere. 2: Sandy is trying his best to ignore any recognition from his past. 3: Macaque also recognises Sandy + likes to rile him up.

Which nearly leads to a fishman vs monkey fight one night. A punch is thrown, a far-too-familar human catches his fist.

Sandy leaves the restaurant in a hurry, apologizing tearfully under his breath. He returns some days later, admits that he wants to work on his temper and that he needs external help for his emotional issues.

He asks if any of the gang are willing to forgive him; they all do, though Macaque takes some extra time to reconsider. Mac does eventually come around when he witnesses Sandy managing to calm himself down mid-conversation. A friendship blooms from there.

I love the thought of Sandy convincing Mac to be his yoga buddy once the monkey starts complaining about aches and pains later on in the Egg's development. Its all very awkward at first, but it ends up becoming their weekly "thing" they do together. Both (including Wukong sometimes) are new to modern mental wellness stuff, and it's a lot easier to get into healthier habits with a buddy at your side. Mac probably accidentally calls Sandy his older brother a few times.

Even when Macaque briefly abandons the noodle shop to hide/flee from a certain threat/his and Wukong's relationship issues, Sandy is the only one Mac trusts with his location. Sandy similarly is a tough nut to crack when Wukong is zipping around for answers ("He seemed really hurt. I ain't telling you until you both have cooled off.").

Needless to say, Sandy is the least-shocked to learn that Wukong is willing to do something Very Stupid to get back into his dear Mihou's good books.

Macaque, answers phone at PIF's place: "Hey." Sandy: "Wu's going into the Underworld." Macaque, delayed reaction: "Oh good... WHAT?!" Sandy: "Yeah, he told me to tell you; He's sorry, and that he's gonna make it up to you in the ways he only knows how. Whatever that means." Macaque, stunned: "...Did he say exactly what he was going to do?" Sandy: "He told me to not tell you or else you'd try and stop him." Macaque, getting worked-up: "Damn straight I will!" Sandy: "Hey, hey, remember what we've been practising in breathwork. Pause and forget the situation for a moment, and just breath in deep. Deep breaths." Macaque, a little calmer: "...Ok, I'm feeling a little better. But I'm still really concerned what the hell Wu is planning on doing. If you know where he is, make sure he doesn't try doing anything stupid." Sandy: "Will do! Tell your sister I said hi!" Macaque: "Thanks Sandy." (*call ends*) Sandy, turns to Pigsy and Tang: "Yeah he's ok. Best we follow Wu and make sure he isn't serious about that Bone Demon stuff." Pigsy: "I swear on Guanyin, those monkeys are going to make me age ten years by the end of this."

Sandy earns his title of "Best Uncle" in the au for a reason.

#lmk sandy #lmk sha wujing #the monkey king and the infant au #the monkey king and the infant #lmk #lego monkie kid #shadowpeach #lmk shadowpeach au #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #sun wukong #pregnancy tw #tmkati au #lmk tmkati au story events

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tiannasfanfic · 2 years

Text

Secret Admirer: Part 3

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Masterlist] [AO3 Link]

Summary: Telling someone you fell for them is always hard. However, it's even harder when the person you love is also your best friend. When you can't find the courage to tell Eddie Munson how you feel to his face, you decide to let him know in a more...round about sort of way.

Rating: General Auidences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns used, if any. Part 3 of 3. I always see Eddie calling people he finds attractive, or feels protective over, "Princess" regardless of gender. He would even call Steve "Princess." Enjoy! 🖤💜

CW: Cussing, smoking, self doubt, a little angst but a happy ending.

Word Count: 3,300

Tag List: @lilstickynote @tayhar811 @marianita195 @ravenclawkimmi @hellfirefiend @mizelophsun11 @thegirlthatsfalling @awkwardambition @lokiofasgard616 @potatos-library

Deciding to tell Eddie you are his secret admirer was the easy part. The part that actually involved telling him was much harder.

In the process of rereading that absolute disaster of a love letter, you realized something important about yourself.

You absolutely hated talking about your feelings.

That was the real reason you had gone with this whole plan instead of just talking to him upfront. You had really hoped he would just figure out that it’s you right away, feel the same way and then ask you out instead so you wouldn’t have to.

Not exactly the best way to go about things. Or the best way to get what you want.

To make matters worse, ever since the night he came over to show you the letter, Eddie had been acting oddly towards you. Not a bad odd, just odd.

You started catching him staring at you during the classes you had together. His hugs seemed to be a little more frequent, a little tighter and a little more lingering. While it was unexpected with everything else going on, you didn’t mind the extra attention from him. However, you did wonder what brought that on, even though you didn’t ask. You were almost afraid to.

Now came the dilemma. Should you write another letter actually explaining how you feel? Or tell him in person to his face? If you do it in person, should you do it at your house? His? At the old picnic table? One of the other places you two shared with each ither? Or someplace else altogether with no memories of the two of you attached?

Actually, having Eddie meet up with you on neutral ground sounded like the best idea out of them all. That way if things went badly, it wouldn’t completely ruin those other spots for either of you. Skull Rock seemed like the most logical choice. You knew Eddie knew where it was since it was a popular spot, but you also didn’t consider it a spot belonging to either of you. It was a place you’d come to be alone a few times to clear your head, which usually just involved smoking and reading. If it was somehow soured by the memory of Eddie confirming what you already knew, it wasn’t a big loss. You could easily find another.

You decided to leave him one more note to set up the meeting. That would give you the chance to be mysterious for a little while longer. This whole thing really had been fun when it came to thinking up ways to surprise Eddie. You had initially planned on doing a few more surprises before either revealing yourself or giving up altogether, but now you just wanted to be done with the whole thing.

Who knows? Maybe it would all work out after you talked, and you could keep on surprising him in other ways?

You doubted it, but it was nice to hope.

This next note was short and to the point, typewritten just like the other one.

Eddie,

I’m sorry my first letter was such a mess. Meet me face to face so I can explain it? 4pm Skull Rock tomorrow (Saturday) night?

xoxo

School had let out for Christmas break by the time you worked up the courage to finally talk to him. So, you had to figure out another way to get the note to him without him seeing you.

On the Friday evening after Christmas, Eddie was over at Dustin’s house since he was running a short campaign for Hellfire to play over break. The parents of the younger Hellfire members called him up begging him to one week into the holidays since they were all going stir crazy. Since Eddie’s uncle was off work on Friday’s, this worked out perfectly for you. You headed over to their trailer once you knew Eddie was at the Henderson’s.

Wayne was a little surprised when you said you were there to see him instead of Eddie. and was even more surprised when you asked him to give Eddie an envelope but not tell him it came from you.

“I’ll explain everything to him tomorrow,” you said. “The letter is just asking him to meet with me so I can.”

By that point, Wayne had put two and two together. You knew then that Eddie had shown him the ring and other letter when a look of realization come over his face, and his expression softened into a gentle smile.

“I’ll see that Eddie opens it tonight,” Wayne said, and you thought you could see excitement in his eyes. “Good luck tomorrow, Y/N. I don’t think you’ll need it, but good luck.”

That statement confused you a little bit, but he wasn’t discouraging the idea any, so that gave you a little more hope than you previously had. You headed home after that to start thinking about what you were going to say to Eddie and what you were going to wear tomorrow. Normally you didn’t put a whole lot of thought into how you looked, but this was different.

Several hours later, your closet was all over your floor, and you were no closer to figuring out either when the phone on your nightstand rang.

“Hel-,” you started to say after picking up the receiver.

“They want to meet tomorrow!” Eddie said, his frantic tone interrupting your greeting. “They want to see me face to face!”

The nervous energy Eddie was projecting over the phone on top of your already nervous energy about tomorrow caused your brain to veer wildly off track for a few moments.

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused now. “Who wants to meet you?”

Which really confused Eddie at first since he wasn’t at the top of his game either.

“Eh? What do you mean, who- oh,” Eddie started to say, and then you heard him realize he needed to fill in some blanks. “I just got home from Henderson’s a bit ago and my uncle handed me an envelope, saying someone dropped it off today.”

“An envelope?” you said, feeling dumb for your brain lapse considering you were behind all this, but doing your best to still sound confused.

There was a brief period of silence as you heard Eddie nodding before he remembered you couldn’t see him.

“Oh, yeah, an envelope,” he confirmed. “It’s the same person who sent the ring and letter. They want to meet up tomorrow.”

“Oh wow!” you said, trying to sound really excited without going over the top. “That’s awesome!”

“Eh,” Eddie said, with a more neutral tone than you expected, and you could hear the shrug in his voice. “I guess. You know me, I don’t like letting people down.”

Those words made your stomach start to sink.

“Oh?” you asked, licking your suddenly dry lips. “Why do you think you’ll let them down?”

“Because I’m not interested,” he said. “And I’m not going to pretend either. Whoever it is deserves better than that.”

With every word Eddie said, you felt your stomach sinking further.

“Now, don’t jump to conclusions,” you said, amazed your voice wasn’t shaking like your hands now were. “You still don’t know who it is, so you could end up intereste-“

“Highly doubtful,” he said, cutting you off. “I already know who it’s not and that’s the only person I’d want to go out with.”

It felt like someone suddenly poured a bucket of ice water on you. This was the first you were hearing that Eddie liked someone. You had no idea prior to this.

“Oh,” you asked, swallowing heavily. You didn’t want to know, but you also had to ask. “Who is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie said, and you could hear him shrugging again. “It’ll never happen in a million years, no matter how much I want it to.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your mouth went dry. Since your stomach couldn’t sink any further, now you felt nauseated. Your vision started to swim as tears sprang up in your eyes.

This was information you really wished you would have known before.

Now what?

Do you still show up tomorrow, knowing he’s going to tell you no and make every interaction you have with him going forward be awkward? Or consider this his answer, not go, and let Eddie think whoever it was chickened out?

Most of your motivation to see this through had just died learning Eddie was interested in someone else. There didn’t seem to be much of a point in doing any of this anymore. But, at the same time, just dropping the whole thing right now and not showing up was way more of a chicken shit move than you’d ever done before.

You made your bed. Guess it was time to lie in it.

“Y/N? Did you fuck off on me over there, Princess?”

You realized that you had gotten lost in your thoughts and had gone quiet for a while.

“Hmm? Oh, no, I’m still here.”

Eddie chuckled softly.

“But yeah, that’s where I’m at,” he said, sighing.” “Tomorrow’s going to suck, both for me and the secret admirer.”

You chewed your lip for a moment.

“Just be honest with them,” you finally said with a sigh. “I’m sure they’ll understand. They wouldn’t want you to pretend to have feelings just for their sake. I know I wouldn’t.“

It was Eddie’s turn to be quiet after that.

“Yeah,” he finally said, sighing again. “I wouldn’t want that either.”

Sleep wasn’t your friend that night. You ended up with just a few hours and were up a little after sunrise, which was unusual for you, especially during school breaks. You went ahead and got ready, dressing as if it was just another normal day, then cleaned up the mess you’d left yourself.

After that, you had nothing to do but wait. Even though you had hours to go before you had to leave, the anxiety and nerves had carried over from the night before.

When waiting around at home became too much, you decided to head out for the meeting spot already. It was around 2pm when you got out to Skull Rock, but despite being a really warm afternoon for December, there wasn’t anyone else out there at the moment. People usually didn’t come out until the evening when there was less of a chance to be seen for the activities they had in mind. That suited you just fine.

As soon as you got to the normal place you’d been sitting, you spread a blanket out on the ground and parked yourself right where the rock curved under the massive, skull shaped boulder. Lighting up one of the joints you brought with you, you smoked half of it before putting it out and swapping it for a cigarette. The combo helped calm you some and you settled back against the rock to read while you waited.

The book you brought with you was an old favorite, one you had read so many times the spine was badly crinkled and about to fall apart. You would need to replace it soon since you read it anytime you needed to think and focus that easily distractible part of your brain. So, as your eyes and that part of your brain took in the words on the page, the rest of your brain paid absolutely no attention to the book and tried to work out what you could say to Eddie that would save the friendship.

The next two hours flew by, but it didn’t seem like that much time had passed before you heard footsteps crunching along through the trees as someone was headed towards you. A quick glance at your watch told you it was 3:55.

Your heart sped up; panic started to set in. You had gotten lost in your thoughts, but you were no closer to figuring out what you were going to say than you were two hours ago. That thought flew through your mind just as Eddie was stepping out of the trees into your line of sight, headed in your direction.

You froze in place where you were sitting. He didn’t see you yet, his eyes looking down at the uneven ground, so he didn’t trip on his approach. You briefly debated diving under Skull Rock itself and hiding, but right as you were having that thought, Eddie looked up. He instantly saw you and stopped in surprise.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Eddie said, with a hesitant wave. “I didn’t know you ever came out here.”

You blinked a few times and collected your bearings quickly.

“Uh, yeah, sometimes,” you said, closing the book in your lap. “It’s quiet out here, a good spot to be alone.” Then you held up your book. “Or read.”

“Guess so,” he chuckled a little, and you could tell he was nervous. He came over to lean against the rock across from you. “I tried to call you before I left, but your mom said you weren’t home.”

“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop yourself from chuckling too. “I’ve been out here a couple hours.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said, then started rubbing his neck in that nervous way of his. “Have you seen anyone else out here, by chance?”

You shook your head and Eddie nodded.

Neither of you spoke after that. You both kept looking at each other, then looking away.

This was awkward as hell.

You sighed and stood up.

“Can we just pretend like this never happened?” you said as you started collecting your things. “Or did I mess everything up too badly? Either way, too late now, I guess.”

“Eh?” you heard Eddie say, confusion in his voice. “What do you mean?”

You folded up your blanket and tucked it under your arm before turning to him.

“I’m sorry,” you said, sighing. “I didn’t know you were interested in anyone when I gave you the ring and letter, or else I would have never put you in this position.”

Eddie’s expression stayed confused for a second before it changed to one of complete shock, his eyes going wide and his mouth dropping open.

“No fucking way,” he whispered.

It was so soft you barely heard him, but you did, and at that moment, it confirmed what you already knew.

“Don’t worry though,” you added hurriedly, looking down. “I know you’re not interested and I’m okay with that. There’s no need to go into it at all. Like I said, I don’t want you to pretend for my sake. I’d just rather forget this ever happened.”

You glanced up at him and saw he was still staring at you with the same expression of shock. It was probably the best reaction you could hope for.

Figuring this was a suitable time to leave, you started to turn away to head back to where you parked, but then paused.

“You said you called,” you said, turning back to Eddie. “What’s up? Might as well ask you while I’m still here.”

Eddie’s mouth closed with a snap, and he shook his head to snap himself out of the shock.

“Oh, uh,” he said, and started rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you want to go to The Hideout with me tonight? Get a drink or two?”

You chuckled tiredly, looking at him finally.

“That might be kind of awkward now, so maybe another night.”

“Why would taking you on a date be awkward? Especially now?”

You blinked and stared at Eddie.

“A…date?”

Eddie nodded.

Now it was your turn to be confused, though your heart was now doing a wild dance in your chest.

“But…I thought you were interested in somebody?”

“Yeah, I am,” Eddie nodded. “You.”

You blinked and stared at him.

“Me?”

Eddie nodded again.

Your brain shut down. All of the thoughts you had in your head suddenly fled. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. You ended up just standing there, gawping at Eddie.

After staring at each other for a minute, Eddie grinned at you and slowly walked over to you as he started talking, taking a step with every second or third word.

“When I got the ring,” he explained. “At first, I thought it was you. I had forgotten about that ring as soon as we left the store, so you were the only one that knew about it. But you were so convincing that I started doubting that.”

Now Eddie was standing just a step or two away, and he stopped there. You just stood there, looking up at him, still too stunned to speak.

“The letter really caught me off guard,” he continued. “I was sure it wasn’t you by then. And I panicked. I thought, it’s only a matter of time before someone pursues you too. And friendship be damned, I like you too much to not try my luck first.”

You felt your cheeks flush a deep red and you couldn’t help but smile now.

“Must’ve been odd seeing me here then,” you said, finally getting your voice back.

“Not odd, just really surprising,” he said, as he reached out to take ahold of your jacket and then gently started pulling you toward him. “Do you actually come out here or was that all made up?”

“I do sometimes,” you said, nodding as you took the last couple steps to close the distance between you. “Not often though. It’s not a spot of mine yet.”

Eddie snaked one of his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. Your arms came up to drape around his shoulders, the blanket you were holding falling down to the ground.

“Then that settles it,” he said, his other hand coming up to cup you’re the side of face, his thumb tracing along your cheekbone. “It’s officially our spot now.”

You couldn’t help but grin, barely getting out a word of agreement before Eddie was pressing his lips to yours in a deep, intimate kiss. It wasn’t quite to the level of passionate, but the embers could be felt by both of you. It wouldn’t take much to stoke them into a burning flame.

With that in mind, you slowly pulled your lips away from his, opening your eyes to look at him.

Eddie licked his bottom lip and bit down on after yours were gone. His grip tightened on your waist briefly but then relaxed. When he finally opened his eyes, a wicked glint came to his eyes as he grinned at you.

His train of thought was on a similar track.

“So,” he said. “Inner flames burning, eh?”

You groaned, hiding your face against his shoulder as he laughed and wrapped both of his arms around you in a hug.

“Oh stop,” you protested, looking up at him with a glaring pout. “In my defense, I don’t even remember writing that particular part.”

“Yeah?” he laughed even harder at that, then kissed you on the forehead. “Exactly how tired were you, Princess?”

“Very,” you said, and now you were laughing along with Eddie. “I stayed up all night writing it. And I actually thought it sounded like my best work at the time.”

“Now it all makes sense,” he shook his head. “I should’ve recognized it as one of those half asleep, somewhat delirious, stream of whatever rambles of yours.”

Eddie walked you to your car then with his arm around your shoulder, and you with your arm around his waist. Not in any hurry, the pace was leisurely and the two of you kept laughing about the letter.

Regardless of your new status with each other, one thing would never change.

Eddie Munson was still your best friend and would continue to give you shit as such.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb

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ghostinthegallery · 9 months

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Time to overthink the Silent King!

Aw yeah, @angoryt got their request in first, so sure. Szarekh—second coolest necron centerpiece model—is up to be psychoanalyzed by me, a rando on the internet.

Szarekh is interesting for a lot of reasons, and a lot of that stems from how mysterious he is. He's relatively new to the game as it were and he has basically no story appearances because GW hates xenos and also me. Still we have some things to go on...

So what do we know? He was the one that made the deal with the Deceiver (who tbf was not called the Deceiver at the time) to turn the necrontyr into the necrons we know and love today. He had full control of everything single necron via command protocols, but he surrendered that power after the War in Heaven. He ordered the Great Sleep. He entered a self imposed exile and now has returned because he saw something out in the universe that he deemed a great enough threat to return (it's the Tyranids put a pin in that).

He may or may not have met Sanguinias. He may or may not have a plan to reverse biotransference. He has a thing for pylons. That's about all we get.

I see a character here that tried to be a good king. In many ways he was, but he failed in the most catastrophic way. Every single action he's taken has been an attempt to protect his empire and his people and all of them backfired. Biotransference was... biotransference. The Great Sleep caused so many dynasties to be lost to planetary death, scavengers, and madness. And the galaxy they are waking up to is arguably even worse than the one they hibernated to escape. Even Szarekh's attempt to atone for his mistakes by exiling himself left a power vacuum that the triarchy couldn't fully fill. The necrons are completely fractured, their empire is significantly weaker as a result, and it's partially because of Szarekh's choice.

But he still isn't giving up. Despite being haunted by his failures, he's still trying to unite his people and save them from the mistakes he's made. He's trying to protect the whole galaxy from the Tyranids, even though he and the other necrons could just let them devour everything and move on. Tyranids avoid necrons and tombworlds because they have no biomass. Szarekh doesn't have to fight them, but he chooses to because he believes that if he doesn't, he can never reverse biotransference. The necrons will just die a slow death to entropy and Szarekh will have a front row seat to watch the decay of everything he loved.

He's motivated by profound guilt and desire to protect his people, but it constantly ends in tragedy. Do I think this makes him a "good" person? No, not really. He's deeply shrewd and manipulative. He used Dante's and the other Blood Angels love and grief for Sanguinias to essentially turn them into bait for his fight with some Tyranids. Szarekh survived necron court politics for millennia, he doesn't f*ck around.

Note, Szarekh didn't just show up and try to take over immediately. He built up support, a new court, he allied with everyone's favorite robot murder scientist Illuminor Szeras. The guy isn't an idiot. He made a lot of wrong choices, but those choices came from good intentions rather than incompetence.

It's infuriating GW isn't doing more with Szarekh as a character. He's a tragic king! Loved and hated by his own empire with equal intensity. He should at least have one novel where he features (if not multiple). If they want to maintain the mystery around him (which is fair) make him an antagonist for someone like Imotekh or even Dante, Lion, or Guilliman if they insist of featuring the Imperium. Do some uneasy alliances. Get the aeldar in here! Szarekh also shows just how dangerous and terrifying the tyranids are, which is great if GW wants tyranids to be the Big Bad of 10th. You want some extra horror attached to the space bugs? Just give a hint of what Szarekh saw out in the universe that terrified him enough to break a 65 million year exile.

Szarekh is a walking Shakespearean tragedy with a sick model, and I hope he gets more love in the lore.

If you like how I think about characters l, read my AO3 nonsense. Leave a comment, I live for those.

Next on the list: Anrakyr the Traveler! As requested by @fobosfear

#warhammer 40k #necrons #the silent king #Szarekh #more character rambles #the coolest centerpiece model is the monolith #just look at that big trangle #love me a tragic king trying a failing to right the wrongs of his past #yes i am still taking requests for who to overanalyze next #i will get to Trazyn #he is inevitable

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yonderly-alamort · 2 years

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[ 𝟐𝟏 : 𝟑𝟑 ] 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐎, 𝐌𝐅!

Halloween arrived and, as a fan of this day, you couldn't help but try and scare your lovely dumb boyfriend!

with. osamu miya x gn! reader. | words: 0.618k

blog links. masterlist | asks/requests | general

osamu doesn't get excited when people start making halloween preparations like choosing costumes, decorating the house or buying ornaments; he doesn't share the adoration for the spooky season like some others do.

not that he hates it, on the contrary, it warms his heart when he sees small children and adolescents enjoying their night collecting candies and hanging out with their friends.

it's at these moments that the younger miya recalls his childhood years of celebrating the holiday with his blonde twin.

however, there is a specific reason why halloween, something that shouldn't sound so bad, becomes a night of pure annoyance.

what could bother him this much? the answer is you. well, you and his brother, atsumu.

osamu swears you are the best thing he has in his life, but won't recognize it when you partner up with that little demon he calls brother to try and scare him every fucking year.

he doesn't know how ya do it. he should expect the jumpscares, the sudden yells or the appearances from nowhere, but he does not. you both always manage to think something new that would accomplish to frighten him.

so when he woke up and saw "october 31st" on his lockscreen, the gray haired man knew he would almost end up in cardiac arrest.

everything went normal the first hours of the day, even though he was throwing suspicious glances at both of you whenever you two giggled or shared smirks after looking at him.

that's why, when he found himself alone in the bathroom washing his hands at half past nine, a slight shiver ran down his spine. he knew you're going to do something, but he didn't know what, and that was a problem.

suddenly, the lights went off, but the water kept running out the faucet. and, oh boy, you could bet he was nervous.

quickly, osamu shut the water flow until a slow, almost inaudible dripping sound was the only thing he could hear. recovering little by little, he exited the bathroom and stood in the corridor.

"baby? y/n, darlin', where are you? atsu-?!"

his voice was interrupted by a figure laying on the living room floor. getting close to them, the miya identified atsumu with his eyes shut.

thinking the dumbass might have hitted himself when the power turned off, osamu, panicking, rapidly helped his brother get up.

it was unexpected when the mf quickly turned his head with a giant smile and big eyes open.

the silent gasp he let out transformed into a loud yelp when a pair of gloved hands touched his shoulders.

dropping his twin, 'samu spinned to face the owner of those clothed hands, finding a horrendous mask almost brushing his nose.

"...boo~"

three screams were yelled in the same room: atsumu's hurted cry from falling, osamu's frightened sound provoked by the disguised person un front of him, and yours, because of the feeling of your mask being pulled off.

the lights suddenly returned and illuminated the room, now being able the amusing and somewhat pathetic scene you created.

the younger twin's face slowly got an intense shade of red when atsumu's laughter rang across the room, wherever it was from embarrassment or anger i can't tell.

what i'm sure about is that, that night, neither you or 'tsumu would hear a word from the gray haired man. and yes, osamu was good at giving the silent treatment.

extra ¡!

when your boyfriend and u were ready to go to sleep, before turning off the nightstand lamp, you asked: "babe... you ain't going to give me my goodnight kiss?"

with his back turned to face you and small pout he replied: "no." and the bedroom went dark.

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soupbabe · 2 years

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can i get platonic duwang gang with a reader who’s like a walking encyclopedia. they always know the most random things, and will rattle off about things from weather facts to geology to obscure mythology and music. how does duwang gang react to them going off on a tanjent about something like “oh speaking of ____ did you know that-“

Telling the Duwang Gang Fun Facts (Platonic! Headcanons)

Fair warning that there's Okuyasu and Koichi favoritism </3

Josuke Higashikata

- I think it's something Josuke looks forward to everyday

- He's "If you don't say anything I will think something is wrong" level invested

- He likes where the conversations goes whenever you mention a fact to him

- I think he'd try to keep up with you and give you tidbits himself, but they're definitely more based around pop culture

- Like he may not know anything about niche mythological gods, but he sure will give you a detailed analysis of every Prince album

- Only if you ask though

- He knows he can get carried away and bore people with it

Okuyasu Nijimura

- He's both amazed and suspicious about how much you know about anything

- Like !! He thinks it's cool, but also how did you know that 🤨

- You definitely help him on his homework!

- Literally ever since you've tutored him, his grades improved and he's very emotional about it

- You actually break stuff down easier for him ( + extra material the teachers haven't even mentioned yet) and it definitely makes him feel more confident

- Every time he gets a test back he immediately calls you up, very excited and thankful <3

Koichi Hirose

- Koichi's the reason you're the way you are

- He definitely gave you one of those tear away "fact of the day" calendars and it only spiraled from there

- You two are the dorkiest pair Morioh's ever seen /pos

- And Koichi is always there if you ever want to ramble on with a fact!

- He's such a great listener <3

- But you can't say everything though

- Even a topic as vague as decomposition or garbage can make him squeamish

- May his silence be not by choice, but by not wanting to hurt your feelings

Rohan Kishibe

- He wants to dissect your brain (but like in a good way)

- Rohan probably has tried to use Heaven's Door at some point tbh

- Sometimes he lets you in to see his writing process, but more so for occasional fact checks

- You essentially get a Koichi treatment where you just sit around, but Rohan thinks it's quality time <3

- It's not bad though, during breaks or when Rohan retires for the day, there's a better chance he'll offer you a meal for your help

- He's not the best with friends, but he's trying I promise

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure diamond is unbreakable #jojo's bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable #diamond is unbreakable x reader #diamond is unbreakable #platonic headcanons #josuke higashikata x reader #josuke higashikata #okuyasu nijimura x reader #okuyasu nijimura #koichi hirose #koichi hirose x reader #rohan kishibe x reader #Rohan Kishibe

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u-n-lucky-being · 5 months

Text

𝔐𝔲𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔅𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔰

Part 3: 𝔚𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔢 𝔴𝔢r𝔢

INFJ x ENTP

Tags: f!INFJ, m!ENTP, ft. m!ENTJ, ENTJ is an asshole in this one (sorry to all my ENTJ who are not machiavellian tyrants <3 love you all), lovers to enemies (kinda), kingdom setting, there’s an insurgence, kind of historical fiction (…I think? I’m not sure how this genre is called), angst, mentions of torture, threats of murder, mentions of murder, mentions of violence, blood, wounded character, mentions of war, curse words are used, I’m bad at tagging, hurt/comfort (I think?), I don’t know what else to add, please tell me if I should add anything else.

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: INFJ used to be sure that once she had to confront the worst, she would do without faltering. But now that she was face to face with it, fear was starting to creep in. As if her situation was not bad enough, the more she thinks she learns about their past, the more confused she feels. Her entire story with ENTP just feels like a muddled mess she doesn't know how to make sense of.

(Part 1: 𝔚𝔥𝔬 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢)

(Part 2: 𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢)

(Part 4: 𝔚𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢)

A/N: Hello! Hello! Welcome back to *proceeds to read the notes in the first parts* all the 4 people who were waiting for this!!!!

Ok no, but seriously, hope those who were waiting for this like it. I'm sorry it took so long but the folder where I had most of my drafts decided that it wanted to exist no longer and by the time I went through the seven stages of grief months had already passed by. BUT I AM BACK! Though, seriously, it took me like seven attempts to rewrite all of this so I'm sorry if it is sloppier than the first parts T-T I swear I tried. (Also forgive the sudden ending, this chapter was supposed to be conjoined with the next one but it became just too long).

I am not sure if this is bad news or good news but as I rewrote the drafts for the rest of this story I noticed some plot holes that I just couldn't bear leaving so... there would be like around three more parts (plus maybe some extra flashbacks... maybe); one of them I'll probably upload right after this one so, hope that makes up for the time.

But, whatever, hope whoever reads this ends up liking it. Feel free to provide advice, cause I know there's a lot of room for growth.

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INFJ spat blood on the floor one last time, her eyes throwing daggers at ENTJ as she was dragged out of the interrogation cell. The King remained as cool and collected as ever, but she could tell that behind that exterior he was irritated that he could not get anything out of her for today. It should have made her proud. She should have enjoyed it.

She tried to enjoy it.

But everything hurt too much.

Pain. Pain is all she could feel at the moment. Her whole body ached and trembled. She somehow felt hot and cold at the same time. Breathing hurt. She could barely keep her eyes open, and even if she did the whole world kept spinning around her; she was completely sure that the only reason she hadn’t passed out yet was because of the fear of passing out in the same room as ENTJ.

“Just spit one name- any name- out of those rats you have been working with, and you can put an end to this.”

INFJ would love to say that she endured through it all with her head high, keeping her poise, mocking them as they tried to break her— but that would be a horrible lie.

She screamed and begged and cried for what felt like hours. As much as it shamed her to admit it, there were moments where she considered giving them what they wanted so that the pain would stop. She may have fought through it today, but the temptations had been there, and now she didn’t know if she was more afraid of the pain that would come or of what she would do to stop it from coming.

And she knew things would only get worse from here. This was only day one.

She hoped her body would give up before things got worse.

“You will wish that death would hurry up because he will make your existence nothing more than pain!”

That’s what he had said, wasn’t it?

The guards threw her in her cell, and every part of her body screamed as she hit the floor. They didn’t even bother to shackle her; it wasn’t like she could even attempt to escape. INFJ could hear them talking, and judging by their snickering they were mocking her, but she could not make out the exact words of what they were saying. Everything sounded blurred. Eventually their voices got quieter until she could hear them no longer; she was left alone.

She didn’t get up from where she had landed. There was no energy left in her body to even try. She hadn’t had anything to eat nor drink since the day before— add on top of that blood loss and everything else. She was no better than a ragdoll in this state.

“You will die!”

She hoped it would be sooner than later.

“He will make your existence nothing more than pain!”

“I will get you out of here.”

“I don’t have time to explain just yet”

“Trust me, just once more.”

Damn her head and its inability to just shut up.

He had been there. He entered right after that bastard of a man. INFJ had expected him to pull out another act like he had done the night before, trying to convince her to talk by claiming he would save her, that he would spare her the pain only if she cooperated— that kind of bullshit. She had also expected him to do the opposite: to mock her, to taunt her like ENTJ did as the interrogation went on, that obnoxious smirk plastered on his lips.

Yet he did neither; he just stood there, silent. He kept that emotionless expression from start to finish; as she first refused to talk, as she dared to speak up only to insult ENTJ, as she then insulted him, as she started screaming and eventually begging for it to stop; that cold demeanor remained. And for those agonizing moments where she ended up looking up at him unconsciously, seeking some kind of help, only for him to look away from her— she had hated him.

‘Had’ being an important word.

“Please do what I told you. Trust me, just once more.”

Because there had been a moment when ENTP did meet her eyes.

It had been just a few seconds, right after ENTJ had decided that it had been enough for one day. His whole faced remained as stoic as when he had first walked in, but his eyes—

She knew those eyes. She tried to hate those eyes.

But there was guilt. And there was sadness. And there was worry and fear. And there was rage. And there was pain.

And she must be mad, or stupid, or biased, or hallucinating, but she could swear there was still love in there.

She still felt loved when looking at him. As she lay bleeding and bruised because of him, after he had watched her getting tortured without intervening, after he had lied to her for months about everything; and she still felt loved when looking at him.

How fucking bad did he mess her up? How messed up must someone be to feel like she did in her situation?

ENTJ claimed he wanted to break her; little did he know that his henchman had already done all the work.

It made no sense. Nothing made sense. The rational part of her told her that she was just imagining what she wished to see in him. INFJ needed to stop thinking about him; she needed to remain as focused and as sound as possible.

Yet she could not take those eyes out of her head.

She lay in that cold cell, eyes on the ceiling, fighting her own mind, trying to forget about everything. And everything included him.

But as darkness grew closer, her surroundings quieted down, and the pain drifted away, memories of those eyes flooded her.

She drowned in them as unconsciousness took over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After hearing the door opening and closing, ENTP turned around fully expecting the smile that greeted him back.

What he did not expect was the letter in her hand.

Nor the blood in her clothes.

He froze in place, “Oh, no. You didn’t-”

INFJ smiled weakly as she tried to hold her side with her bare hands. “I did.” She collapsed against the door.

His body acted automatically, while his mind spinned with a thousand different thoughts per second. He was by her side in the blink of an eye, examining the wound. Her face contorted in pain as he tried to inspect it. “What happened?”

Her breathing was heavy and irregular, either by the effort of running or because of the wound; or both. It panicked him not knowing which one it was. “Went for the letter. Guards appeared when I was leaving.” A hiss escaped her as he started to tear pieces of fabric to get a better look from where all the blood was coming from. “They couldn’t see my face. They were too far. Yet,” She inhaled sharply, “one of them has good aim.”

ENTP did his best to keep a cool head, but it was starting to get difficult; he could already feel the pandemonium of emotions starting to rise in his chest. But as INFJ laid bleeding on the floor, it was not the moment to focus on the mountain-size problem she just got both into. The wound didn’t seem too deep, but too much blood came out of it. Without thinking much about it, he ripped one of his shirt's sleeves to press against the wound to slow down the blood coming out. He had to take her somewhere to treat it quickly. “We have to go to the infirmary. Can you stand?” He asked, yet he was already starting to pick her up before she could answer.

However, INFJ tensed and quickly pushed him away, holding the fabric pressed to her side “No, no no. You can’t take me there. The guards know they wounded me— that they wounded the spy. If I appear as me, simple governess, with a wound like this? They will connect the dots.”

Fuck, she was right. “We have to go out of the castle then.”

She shook her head, “No. Too risky.”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to do then?! Let you bleed in here? Wait and see if it fixes itself?” Fear was taking a hold on him. She was acting all calm, but blood kept coming out, color was draining from her face, and she was sweating despite the chill of the night.

INFJ tried to stand but before he could stop her, she hissed again and fell back. “Shit.” It was obvious that she was in pain. He carefully picked her up from the ground. There were only two small benches and a table in the room. It was not comfortable, but he decided that table was the best option; it was at least better than the floor. He carefully helped her lay on it. Afterwards, she turned to look up at him, clearly— well, in pain— but also debating something in that head of hers. A moment passed before she gave a defeated sigh. “I need you to go to the infirmary.”

He stared at her dumbfounded, “Do I look to you like the one who needs to go?!”

“No- don’t be stupid.” She hissed, “You did some medical stuff when you were in the first rebellion, right?” Oh, right. He had told her about that. “I need you to go and bring the necessary things to treat this.”

It felt like a punch in the gut every time he was reminded of the lies, he told her. INFJ knew he had participated in the first rebellion; however, she thought he had deserted before ENTJ took the throne.

Thankfully— for her and for him— that part of him working as an improvised physician hadn’t exactly been a lie. He didn’t feel too enthusiastic about the idea though. He ran a hand over his face. “INFJ, this looks bad. I might know some stuff but-”

Her breath hitched as another wave of pain washed through her. Through greeted teeth she answered, “It’s not as bad as it looks; believe me, I’ve seen worse.” That thought was not half as comforting as she thought it to be. “Besides, I know my stuff as well. Just go.”

He wanted to argue more about it but honestly, he was just wasting time. Time that she didn’t have. He took a deep breath and nodded, “Hold your side. I’ll be right back.”

He rushed to the door. He was almost gone when her voice made him stop in his tracks, “Wait!”

He turned to look at her, looking for what was wrong.

'As if the hole in her midriff wasn’t obviously there.'

“Be careful, please. Don’t expose yourself too much.”

But of course; she was the one bleeding out on the table, yet she was more worried about him. She frustrated him— yet he couldn’t deny the warmth that expanded in his chest because of her words. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be just fine.” He couldn’t say the same about her if he didn’t hurry up. He was about to close the door before saying “Don’t die while I’m gone. Understood?”

She laughed, or at least attempted to. “I’ll try not to.”

The second the door closed he ran towards the infirmary, praying for her to be fine when he came back.

As ENTP opened the door the first sign that told him something was wrong was the silence.

He almost dropped everything, fragile bottles included, as he ran to her side to be greeted by the second sign. A pool of blood had formed over the table. The piece of cloth was soaked. Her hand was barely able to apply any pression. She was pale, eyes closed, and she didn’t react to the sound of the door closing; for a second, he feared she had fallen unconscious. However, she seemed to be talking to herself and tapping the table with her free hand. He left the stuff on the table as gentle as he could possibly be while full panicking, and reached for her. As he touched her face, he cursed under his breath.

Her skin was as cold as ice.

She blinked her eyes open at the feeling of his touch, but even that seemed to be hard for her at the moment. “ENTP?”

“You are freezing-” he announced, though it was more to himself. Quickly he started moving, getting all the equipment ready to treat the wound. Thankfully, the infirmary had been almost empty; not that anyone in the castle would stop him-- but considering the more recent events it was better than he would not have to deal with ENTJ at the moment. At least not until he had dealt with this. While he was reaching for a sedative she started dozing off again, “Hey- hey hey! Stay with me. I need you to be awake.”

“I know." She answered with difficulty "That’s what I’ve been trying to do since you left- Though, if I’m honest I’m sure that for whatever you are going to do I would rather not.”

He opened the bottle of sedative and put it on her lips, “Here. Drink this. It will help.” After one look, INFJ drank the content without questioning, before making a face. ENTP almost felt indignant as he pulled the empty bottle away. “What? Was the taste not of your liking?” he asked sarcastically.

“No- I mean- I didn’t mean that.” She could barely shake her head. “Is just that if that what I think it is, is going to take a while to kick in and I’m sure you are not about to wait so-” she turned her head towards the table he had put the medical equipment on, “you might want to pass me one of those clean cloths to bite down.” She let her head fall back to its original position, eyes barely staying.

He had not considered that at all. But she was right- they didn’t have time to wait. So, he apologetically complied with her request and removed the rag that was over her wound to begin to apply the antiseptic. “I don’t have to warn you; this will hurt.”

She muffled a “I know” back.

And he began.

INFJ seemed light-headed; clearly from the blood loss, pain, and the sedative. As he worked on the stitches on her side, she watched him carefully, “Did you use to do this a lot? Cause you seem surprisingly good.”

He tensed a bit but tried to hide it with a light chuckle. “I fought in the first rebellion, remember?”

“Oh, right.” she uttered.

“Are you used to getting stitches? Cause you seem too good at it.” He half-joked.

The reply was a small snicker. “I’ve had a couple, yeah.” She exhaled heavily, “Though I have a feeling it has more to do with the sedative.”

It was a small relief knowing that she was not in as much pain as before. While he finished the last ones, she barely flinched. On the other hand, she kept staring at him, in that way that made him feel that she was seeing through him. “Why did you turn your back on them?”

ENTP pressed his lips, not daring to look away from what he was doing. He knew what she meant. “It was- it was not what I had hope for I guess.”

She simply nodded at his answer.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence— for him— he declared, "I'm done. You are all patch up.” standing up and backing away, perhaps a little too quickly. He was tense for everything that had happened in the last few hours; add to that a reminder to his mountain of lies— he would rather not be reminded of that right now.

INFJ exhaled heavily again and winced a little. He frowned and pressed his lips. Maybe the dose of sedatives he had given her had not been enough, after all. He was about to mention it to her, but she cut him off. She smiled softly at him, “Thank you, ENTP.”

He clicked his tongue, ignoring whatever his heart was attempting to do in his chest “I mean- I’m quite sure I just saved your life. I ain't sure if a ‘thank you’ is enough.”

She almost laughed, but instead winced again as a result. The frown returned to his face; he definitely did not give her enough. However, her smile remained. “Tell me then, what would be enough.”

He mirrored her smile, and his first idea was to annoy her a little.

Flirting had just become natural between them-- as a joke— much to his constant disappointment. Yet he could still manage to make her fluster if he really tried.

But then another thought struck him, and his smile slipped from his lips. He looked down at his hands, still covered in her blood, as he tried to wipe it away with a cloth. “Not putting your life in a situation where it needs saving, maybe could do.”

His words made her smile disappear too, yet she answered nothing.

It felt a little hypocrite, if ENTP was honest. When he first started this whole thing, his sole goal was to end her—oh, how things have changed. He sometimes wished he could go back and never become involved with the spy hunting; it would have been better for her, and for him as well. Nonetheless, the damage was already done, and right now the only thing that kept her from ending hanged, or worse, was him. But if he was not careful enough, both of them would.

Somewhere in his head a whispered spread,

‘For how long he would be able to juggle all of this?’

INFJ suddenly attempted to stand up; she obviously failed. He held her side to stabilize her “Woah, easy there. You need to lay down.”

It seemed like she wanted to argue, yet the pain clearly beat her to it. INFJ allowed him to aid her lay back down in the table. Her eyebrows were still furrowed in pain or exhaustion, and her eyes looked like they were starting to get cloudy. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how she had remained conscious through everything, “I want to go to my chambers.”

It was slightly amazing and slightly terrifying how she sounded so put together even when it was obvious that the sedative was the one speaking now. He softly moved her damped hair out of her face, “I’m sorry but right now that would be too risky.”

“But I want to go.” she replied, barely a whisper “I don’t want to be alone here.”

He didn’t have to think the answer twice, “I will stay, right here with you.” ENTJ and the batshit mess that was surely awaiting for him could still wait a little longer. ENTP grasped her hand; it was still too cold. “When you wake up, I’ll be here. Now, sleep.”

She nodded, yet her eyes remained open. They went towards the ceiling and every few breaths she would close them for some seconds right before opening them again. She was fighting against sleep.

He sat down and stared at her. There was an avalanche of emotions he was yet to deal with, but not right now. Simply, not right now.

“Don’t look at me like that.” INFJ’s voice startled him.

She was now staring at him. His frown deepened, “Look at you like what?”

Her breathed had evened. It was not much, but it was a start. “You are looking at me as if you feel guilty.”

ENTP had to suppress a wince “I-”

“And sad;” she continued “and worried; and angry.”

He laughed softly. If only she knew. “Anything else?”

INFJ remained quiet, yet her eyes seemed to want to say something more. However, sleep finally won the battle and she dozed off.

“You should be resting, you dumbass.”

He had just returned from getting food and water. He obviously did not expect the girl he left to be already up and about.

“How long was I out?” INFJ asked, completely ignoring his comment while looking for something around the room. She had changed into the clean clothes she brought for her, and something told him that what was consuming in the fire was not wood.

He shook his head frustrated. “Did you at least change the bandages?” ENTP asked back while placing the food on the little table.

“I did. How long was I out?” She still wouldn’t look at him; her search for whatever she was looking for seemed more important.

ENTP tutted “A day and some hours. It will be dawn soon.”

That finally caught her attention. She stared at him, blinked once, and her whole expression shifted to one of panic. “Shit.” She started walking towards the door. “Shit,shit,shit,shit-”

“Hey. Hey, where are you going?” He grabbed her by the wrist to stop her. She must still be suffering from blood loss if she thought she could just walk out like this.

Her eyes were wide with worry, “I was lost for more than a day. The guards wounded the spy, and I was lost for more than a day. ENTP, lady ESTJ- she for sure will know something is wrong. I have never missed a day with the kids unreported like this. She- she will know.” She started pulling her wrist attempting to set herself free, “I must go; I must be there before morning. The more time I stay, the more suspicious would be.”

He tightened his grip on her wrist, “There’s no way you are going.” She pulled harder but he didn’t let go, “You are still wounded.”

“Well, both of us are going to be dead if I don’t leave in this instant.” She retorted.

He sighed. From her perspective sure, it made sense. She did not know that he had already solved most of the mess that her actions had caused. ENTP sent a letter to lady ESTJ pretending to be INFJ; he used the chilly weather as the perfect excuse for having gotten terrible flu. The responsible governess would never put the health of the noble’s children at risk like that, so she asked to be excused till the sickness passed. It wasn’t as solid as he would have liked it, but he doubted that anyone around the castle would be examining too closely the misadventures of a governess.

Then he had to deal with ENTJ, who was furious at the spy stealing that specific letter.

ENTJ and ENTP had done a deal when he first learned the identity of the spy. At first, it had been for selfish reasons; as he finally found out the spy’s identity, he realized that he could get more out of the situation if he didn’t hand the girl immediately to ENTJ’s hands. In the context of ENTJ’s court, power was necessary to ensure survival. Knowledge was power. And knowledge that no one else possessed? It was a fucking mine of gold he would not dare to waste.

So, he gained the girl’s trust and convinced his commander that perhaps leaving the spy alive (for a while, at least) could be more useful. Obviously ENTJ understood his motifs behind wanting to keep the identity to himself, yet he allowed it on three conditions.

No more sensitive information could fall into the insurgents' hands.

He must recollect any crucial information he learned from them, and inform it immediately.

When the girl is no longer useful, or any of the other conditions are broken, hand her at once.

He had thought it would be easy.

It was not.

Especially when he started going out of his way to break the second rule about anything that would put her at risk, and as she continued to make the first one as hard as possible for him; the third was simply out of the table.

He got things under control though (barely); all he needed to do was get back the letter the spy stole and give a fake letter to INFJ for her to deliver to her base. She wouldn’t know the content— the girl was almost dying, of course she didn’t have the time to read it— so things should go smoothly from here.

All he had to do was lie. As he had been doing for too long now. “That’s already taken care of. Relax.”

She froze in place and her brows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“ESTJ might have received a letter stating that her governess had caught the flu, and she won’t be able to continue her duties till she gets better.”

As she processed her words a smile slowly spread across her lips. “Huh.” She nodded approvingly. "I didn't know you could fake my writing."

He shrugged faking humility, “What can I say? I’m good, aren’t I?”

She laughed “Oh, thank goodness.,” before exhaling and resting her forehead on his chest, relieved. He was too aware of the sudden contact, as well as of the fact that he was still holding her wrist, yet she didn’t seem to notice. For her it seemed almost natural; that didn’t help his situation. After breathing in one more time she retreated, “Well, that leaves only one thing in my plate.”

‘Actually, getting better?’ He had wanted to ask; but he knew that would have been too hopeful.

She started looking around the space once again, “Where did you put the letter? I have to get it to the base as soon as-”

ENTP burst out laughing; it wasn’t a laugh of joy. “Tell me you are kidding me.” Her eyebrows furrowed again. “Are you trying to imply you can walk through the whole city to get to the base, in that state?” She was crazy if she thought she would make it even halfway.

He knew- he just knew that she wouldn’t even consider asking him to do it. The first months he started spying-- forgive the redundancy-- on the spy, she would constantly push him out of especific jobs or keep some information out of his reach. She wasn’t obvious about it, but he noticed how she danced around certain names or places. He used to believe it was because he didn’t trust him enough- or that she didn’t consider him capable enough. It drove him crazy.

Now he knew better though.

INFJ wouldn’t dare to let him deliver the lette, because if he were to be found with a letter like that in his possession, he would be dead before he could even realize what was happening. It was too incriminating, just like everything she had kept from him. He could tell it was her way of keeping him as apart from this mess as possible.

Or so she thought.

She stuttered “I- I will manage. Don’t worry. Just-”

He shook his head “You are nuts.”

“ENTP, I’m being serious where-”

He interrupted her, again. "I have a question for you. One that I actually wanted to ask since the moment you opened that damn door, all bloodied.” Staring at her, the fake smile he usually reserved for arguments made an appearance. “We had already discussed that letter. You told me that it seemed too risky for something we were not sure it was valuable.” He clicked his tongue. “I mean, it would literally mean walking into the lion’s den- ENTJ study. So why-” Despite his attempts at keeping his face under control, anger poured all over his words. INFJ wasn’t exactly known for changing her mind easily; she didn’t act without a plan beforehand. So, he knew better than to consider this incident as a reckless decision. “Why did you suddenly change your mind?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part 1: 𝔚𝔥𝔬 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢

Part 2: 𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢

Part 4: 𝔚𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢

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thronesforkings · 2 years

Text

The Little Things (5+1)

Req?: No

Genre: Fluff

Characters: (Name) x Sanzu; Bonten

TW/CW: Pet names (My Prince, Love), bad brother Takeomi, you are short, mean Ran, mentions of drugs

Word Count: 2,172

It was common knowledge at Bonten that Rika (Name) was to be left alone and treated as an executive. He didn’t even work there, though he was Sanzu’s boyfriend. He tried to stop by at least once a day since the pink haired male didn’t get home until late normally.

With (Name) coming in everyday, the others started to notice small things about the couple that probably would’ve gone unnoticed if (Name) was at the offices everyday.

Mikey

Mikey was the first to notice the change in his second in command when his lover was with them. Sanzu didn’t change into a whole new person when (Name) was there, though he let his guard down around the others and showed his true self.

“Here you go Sano-San! Haru mentioned how you like taiyaki so I made some extras for you.” (Name) spoke with an innocent smile, a container on his desk with three little fish cakes. The door opened before Mikey could thank the male, Haruchiyo coming in with a bento box.

“I told you to wait in my office, this place is flooded with idiots. I guess it’s fine though since you’re with the king. I got you some lunch. I figured that we could have lunch together today since it’s looking like a long night.” Haruchiyo spoke, a flush on his cheeks as he scratched at his neck. While he adored Mikey, he wasn’t that comfortable with being vulnerable around him still.

(Name) turned to face the standing male and smiled softly at him.

“Ah, sorry love. I was just giving Sano-San the extra taiyaki I made, since you mentioned how he likes it, I figured that I would make him some as a token of appreciation for keeping you alive!” A light laugh escaped (Name)’s lips as he spoke, Haruchiyo was surprised at the small act by his boyfriend to the person he puts his life on the line for.

“(Name), you can call me Mikey,” (Name) and Haruchiyo moved their attention onto the male who was now speaking, “I really appreciate this. Go have lunch with Sanzu and spend time together. The two of you relax and have a nice break. Sanzu will be helping us deal with some idiots later so make sure that he relaxes.” Mikey spoke as he looked at the two. (Name) chuckled and smiled, nodding at the male before going over and grabbing Haru’s hand.

“I’ll make sure he does Mikey-San! Let Haru know how those are since this was my first time making them. Now,” (Name) turned to the taller male and dragged him out of the room with a smile, “relaxation time! Oh, I saw the cutest cat today at work.” (Name)’s voice got distant as he talked to Sanzu. Leaving Mikey alone and looking at the fish.

“He’s good for him. It’s been years since he’s been that open.” Mikey muttered to himself as he opened the container. He took a bite of the food and let a small smile creep onto his face.

“Good cook as well.”

Takeomi

When he first met the mystery lover of his brother, he was ready to go off on them and Haruchiyo and make sure they both understood the world they are living in. Though he couldn’t push himself to do so when he watched as a short male stormed his way into where the men were hanging out and waiting for some people to meet them.

“Sanzu Haruchiyo.” (Name) said, his arms crossed and looking at his confused boyfriend.

“Yes?” He hesitantly answered, unsure of why he was there and what he did to make him angry.

“You said that you put the laundry away.” (Name) spoke, the other male quickly widened his eyes in surprise and realised he was in deep shit.

“Laundry? Sanzu is a busy man, he doesn’t have time to do house stuff. I would assume that you were hired to do that stuff.” Ran said, glancing at the fuming male.

“I’ll, I’ll do it after this. I promi-” Sanzu tried to reason but yelped when his ear was grabbed. His face flushed red in embarrassment and refused to look at anyone. Takeomi watched this and remembered when Haruchiyo was little and tried to lie to get out of doing chores.

“You’re still the same.” The elder muttered loud enough for them to hear and (Name) hummed as he looked at him.

“Oh, is that him?” Haruchiyo rubbed his ear when it was let go and nodded. (Name) was slowly learning about his family and more about his personal life and past. He had heard about his siblings and was not happy about it.

“Hey Mikey-San, I’m going to do something real quickly to him and then I’m taking Haru home. I’ll bring you some taiyaki on Monday as payment.” (Name) spoke and the male nodded. The group watched the male go up to the sitting executive.

“Hm?” Takeomi respected that Sanzu didn’t want to be part of the family so he never mentioned his past with him, so he was confused on why (Name) was grinning at him. He just assumes that Sanzu never talks about it.

“You know what this is for.” (Name) said and kicked his shin. Takeomi clenched his jaw a bit as it did hurt and watched (Name) drag a stammering Haruchiyo out of the room.

Takeomi was impressed, he didn’t say it aloud but he was also proud of the younger Akashi finding someone that he trusted enough to share the family history with.

3+4. Haitani Brothers

The brothers stood outside of Sanzu’s house, the taller one holding a folder and the younger one knocking on the door. They had done the research into a dude and were told to give the information to Sanzu if the person wasn’t with them.

“Hi there, how- Oh. What are you two doing here?” (Name) asked after he opened the door and saw the two. He knew about them and knew who they were, but never actually interacted with them.

“You’re the chore bitch. This doesn’t concern you so go grab Sanzu.” Ran said, a slight bite to his tone as he spoke. Rin elbowed him to make him go quiet.

“Be nicer, the druggie has a higher status than us. I don’t want to figure out what happens when we piss him off and he goes tattling to Mikey.” Rin hissed, figuring that the male was one of Sanzu’s helpers as well. (Name) stood there with a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. He took a half step away from the door and turned to face the inside.

“Haru! The purple smurfs are here!” (Name) called out and he turned back to the brothers before speaking again, “Also, please refrain from calling Haru such degrading terms.” (Name) said and soon Sanzu came behind the [hair-coloured]ed male in pyjamas.

“What the fuck do you two want? I was enjoying my time getting off earlier than normal.” Sanzu asked, the brothers unfazed by his snappy tone.

“The dudes that we were looking into, they are traitors so we were told to give you the information. You weren’t answering your phone so we came here. Mikey wants it done as soon as possible.” Rin explained as they offered the folder to the unamused male.

“Work doesn’t come into the house. You could’ve just put it on my desk. Do that. I’m not taking it.” Sanzu stated, as they had a few rules with their relationship. Work never comes home, you tell the other if you’re injured, and if you feel unsafe then contact the other right away.

“Just fucking take the folder you psycho. I’m surprised you’re not foaming at the mouth with the opportunity to deal with traitors.” Ran sneered and before Sanzu could speak, a punch was thrown.

“I told you to not call him shit like that. Work doesn’t come home. So that won’t be coming into the house.” (Name) said with a grin as Ran held his nose. (Name) had punched him directly on the bridge of his nose and it hurt like a mother fucker.

“Fucking brat. Do-” Ran started to snap but was dragged away by Rin.

“Alright, understood. See you tomorrow then.” Rin said as he dragged Ran back to the car. The door closed and Sanzu kissed (Name), catching him by surprise.

“That was the hottest thing ever. You really didn’t need to do that though.” Haruchiyo said, grinning as (Name) laughed. He pressed a gentle kiss to both of his scars and went towards the kitchen.

“I wanted to though. Only I can bully you.” (Name) said with a smile as he went off and started making the popcorn that was supposed to be done by now but two idiots stopped them.

5. Kokonoi

“Hey, Gucchi bitch, you know how to know if something is worth the price or not?” Sanzu asked as he entered the male’s office uninvited. Already annoyed at his behaviour, Koko watched him sit on the other side of his desk with his phone in his hand. He took notice of the careful bandages on his hand and the little kid plasters.

“Why, do you need to buy adult medical supplies?” Koko jabbed at Sanzu who rolled his eyes.

“No, I am looking for a ring. I was trying to make my boyfriend food this morning and I got distracted, so I burned myself and he patched it up for me.” Sanzu explained, Koko knew that he was dating the male that came by daily but wasn’t aware that he was serious about it.

“Alright. We’ll go looking after work. It’s better to shop in person than online.”

~~~~~~~

“You need to be more careful.” Koko heard as he went into Sanzu’s office. He wasn’t too surprised to find (Name) with him, but was surprised at how madly Sanzu was looking at him in love. (Name) noticed the movement and looked at Koko, Sanzu following suit.

“You ready?” The male asked and (Name) was confused.

“I have one more thing to take care of tonight but then I’ll be home, think about what you want for dinner and I’ll order you what you want.” (Name) smiled and giggled at the kiss that was pressed on his cheek.

“Okay, don’t take too long though. You agreed to watch the next season with me tonight.” (Name) said, grinning as he was showing Sanzu an American tv show that he liked. The two stood up and went towards Koko, who was near the door.

“I won’t.” Sanzu smiled softly as he spoke, Koko feeling like a third wheel.

“Oh, before I head back home, where did you put your ripped jacket?” (Name) asked, going over to where Sanzu pointed to. He opened the door to show a range of bloody and ripped clothes. He kept them in there so if he knew he was doing something where it was going to be messy, he could ruin less clothes.

“Let’s see if I remember how to sew. This is one of your favourites, it’s not blood stained so it can be salvaged.” (Name) explained and Koko watched him take a torn suit jacket.

+1. (Name)

(Name) was confused as to why they have been doing things all day. He wasn’t complaining though, he had fun and was loving being with Haruchiyo. They went to an adoption centre that was doing an event where they had their animals outside and people could donate pet supplies to the place or people looking to adopt ([Favourite animal] was the main reason Haruchiyo brought (Name) there), [Favourite place to do things], a nice restaurant for dinner, and now they were sitting at a nice little bakery next to a lake eating dessert.

“(Name), I love you so much. I love how you do little things for me and even do things for my king. I can’t express in words how much I love and adore everything you do. You’re my prince, I never want you to leave. So, um,” Sanzu flushed red as he awkwardly got on one knee and took the ring out of his pocket. “Uh, will you marry me?”

(Name) gasped and had tears in his eyes, he threw himself onto Haruchiyo and hugged him tightly.

“Yes. Yes, I will. I love you so much as well.” (Name) babbled out as he let Haruchiyo move him and put the ring on his finger. It was super pretty and even was [your birthstone] with the words ‘My Prince’ engraved on the inside of the ring.

“I hope that you enjoyed today. Um, you notice the little things so I wanted to show that I also noticed them.” Haruchiyo said softly, holding (Name) close.

“It’s the little things that matter the most. I was told by my parents that if you truly loved someone, you knew the little things they did and liked. Since you paid attention to them more than most people do and looked under the obvious things.”

#sanzu haruchiyo x male reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tw mentions of drugs #mean haitani ran #mean akashi takeomi #I wrote this instead of doing school or doing anything productive

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opinated-user · 5 months

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https:/ / archive. ph/ svv67

archive for lily telling britt to unalive herself.

thank you, anon! you're a real one!

reading through this, i have no doubt in my mind that LO send that to herself just to have an excuse to try to one up Brittany... even though Brittany has her own blog to do that on her own space. which brings the question, LO, if you have anything specific to say about anything we claim, what exactly is stopping you from just screenshotting those pots and respond to them directly instead of this weird "anon brought me this thing you say and therefore i get to rant about it while pretending i had nothing to do with how this information came to me" you do? just about in general, you comes off less trustworthy because of this because nobody is actually seeing what you're reacting to. you can make all the angry anons you want. doesn't mean that people are going to actually believe that is Brittany. anyway, there are some point in the response of LO that i want to talk about for a second.

so, sincerely speaking? from my bottom of my heart, hypothetically, if LO was actually a ghost writer and she was earning enough for a comfortable living, enough that she can drop youtube entirely, i'd be honestly happy for her. i'd prefer that she became a full time ghost writer than a youtuber, because you can't groom people with ghost writing gigs. you can't form an audience around being a ghost writer, only inside clients who need your services, who are all pressumably going to be adults in the first place. whatever bigotry or misinformation you spread on that job comes from what a clent asked of you, not from you having horrible opinions about issues that either don't affect you or you don't actually care about or generally being an awful person. because the thing that LO is missing is that nobody is trying to deplatform her because. we want to do that and encourage people to not give her views ever, no matter what kind of video she's making about what topic (which is why my pinned post will always be resources for people to avoid going to give her clicks), not because we want her to become homeless and struggle to have her basic needs met. we know that it's not going to happen anyway because she's daddy's girl and will always count with his money when this youtuber thing completely fails for her, but even if that wasn't a factor, nobody is aiming for that. we want to deplatform LO because she has actively used her platform to abuse, hurt and traumatize people. i'm not talking about her bad takes on anime or show or animation or anything she claims we have an issue with. i'm talking about the way she has groomed people, used her money to make vulnerable people do things they wouldn't otherwise, exposed minors to think they shouldn't have been exposed to by a trusted adult and spread outright lies to defend rapist or other dangerous people because it was convenient for her narrative. we want LO to not be watched anymore by anyone because she has shown, time and time again, that she'll never try to not hurt someone the moment she has a chance for it. because as long she gets views, has subscribers and has any level of influence, she's still a danger.

i'm sure that the Brittany hivemind agrees with all of this as well. so no, LO, you had it all wrong. if you had a job outside of youtube or any social media, we'd love that for you. if anything, we'd encourage it so much more than keep creating bad essays in video form. but we both know that it's not true and you told us that yourself without realizing. so we have to call out the obvious lie you naively expect people to just take.

literally the first result in google search when you type "do ghost writer write fiction":

the second one:

who is the one who looks like they have no idea how this industry works? (although, if i want to get extra petty here, another reason why people can have reasonable doubt about your ghost writing job, beyond the fact that we have evidence of the many lies you tell on a regular basis... a ghost writer by definition has to know to be versatile and write on an more than acceptable level, if not being also good for the editing. LO, you don't even edit your own scripts. you record them in the first draft. your writing style is terrible, both in a grammar sense as an stylistic sense. so you mean to tell me that for your fanfiction, videos, posts, and everything to do with your name, you make zero effort into making it look decent and reserve all your hidden abilities for... writting for crappy apps? oh and flavor text on some unnamed RPG? seriously? how is anyone supposed to believe that?) anyway, the relevant portion is this:

LO, you're a despicable horrible human being. every ounce of compassion or grace i was ever willing to give you have killed it, smothered it, turned it into ashes and then piss on the debris just to spite me. every chance i gave you to be a better person, to do the right thing, you have squandered it and ignored it. you genuinely disgust me. you're repulsive. i feel sorry only for myself for ever believing you were more than a parasite, a groomer and an abuser. Brittany has never been better than the day you both stopped being friends. your sibling, who never liked you in the way you wanted them to and never would have, is a better friend you never was. everyone who has left you is better for it and someday that fact will fully crush you, but there won't be anyone there to console you and tell you that you "deserved better" because you'll be all alone. nobody will be responsible for that when it happens. not me, not Brittany, not Courtney, not any of the other blogs who criticize you. you. you always be your worst enemy and, the best part is, that is the one you'll never get rid of.

#lily orchard

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