#listen this ask made my day which May seem stupid but I just like to know I’ve shared something with someone else
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Future Child
Okay, Batsis reader. Right? On board? This is around the time when y/n has given up the nightlife and hasn't detached herself from the family.
I'm gonna go off the wall and say what if the family was visited by y/n's child from the future? I know it sounds crazy, but please listen. The family could run a DNA test or the child could walk up to Bruce in broad daylight and whisper, "Hello, flying rodent".
They won't reveal their name, so they're just called V.
During their time there Dick would be so tempted to ask about the future. Maybe not things specifically about his life because he knows they can't answer questions like that. But he'll ask just stupid questions like do cats have jetpacks or something? He'd also try to get to know his nephew. What they like, personality, etc.
Tim and Bruce would be poking at them on how they got here. Though Bruce probably had to take a moment to crack a smile for a split second. He was going to be a grandpa one day and the thought made him tear up. It's just happy news all around for him but he wouldn't dare show it.
Damian would be observing them closely and taking note of their outfit which looked to be something a hero would wear. Making him wonder what kinda of hero they were and if they were any good at fighting. Both Jason and Barbara just stood back from the situation. Babs is still in a bit of shock but is happy to hear that y/n was able to gain the domestic lifestyle she wanted.
y/n's child gives them a gist of how ended up here without giving names. Dick would notice V glancing around the cave and offer to give them a tour. They except of course. He takes note of how V doesn't seem into small talk but asks a lot of questions. The whole family picks up on how X asks a lot of questions about y/n. Their mother. It's odd and a bit worrying to Bruce, but the others just think that y/n didn't talk too much about her time as Batgirl.
Everything is relatively calm until y/n walks into the Batcave for her laptop. V's calm, almost stoic mood is dropped. Tim and Bruce see how V almost took a step forward, but reluctantly stood still. How V started rapidly blinking their eyes and struggling to look at y/n.
Dick would probably zoom up to y/n with a big smile, "Hey, Mama bird, did you get the diapers?" And y/n just gives him a confused, maybe even sacred look.
Everything is going fine. The family is working together on getting them to their time. Cool, yeah, whatever.
But what if there's just something that triggers V. It could be something that was said or asked that leads V and y/n to argue. It's not even arguing. It's just V spilling out grievances about their father and kind of insulting y/n.
"I can't believe you'd still defend him even before you met him. How rich."…"You didn't plan me, but Dad did and you were somehow okay with it? I was only there to keep you down, but what about the other two? Did you love them more because Dad didn't plan them?"…"Dad may have cared about you, but not us. You weren't a monster like him, but letting him get away with so much makes you just as guilty."…"You're both broken people. Maybe you two are meant to be."
V storms off and y/n retreats to her room. Everyone is dumbstruck by this sudden revolution.
Eventually, V does apologize to y/n. When she awkwardly accepts, they get misty-eyed because they really didn't mean to say any of that. They know how she doesn't take the apology, not entirely, and they feel like shit. They do care about their mom, despite all that they said.
When it's almost time for V to return back to the future they pull the whole family aside. Excluding y/n so she won't hear what they're going to say.
"As you guessed my Dad wasn't the best. Mom never talked about any of you and with Dad being a villain I could understand why. He's not a good person in general. Mom deserved better, so this time around try doing a better job. Don't let her slip away or be taken away. If I'm born then you know you failed."
This resonates with the family and brings up questions that won't be answered anytime soon. I could see this leading the family to become yandere or overprotective. Either one is fine because their efforts are futile.
If going down the Yandere route then I could see them becoming so overbearing that y/n runs from them. They control her life. Who she talks to, where she goes, what she does. She can't live like this and she runs away when given the chance.
If going down the protective route then it's slightly better than the Yandere one. At least in terms of their relationship. They pay extra attention to her and check up on her regularly until one day she just disappears.
In each route, They'd keep a close eye on any guy that has similar physical features (ex: hair, eyes). Since V has stated they look more like their father. When she does go missing they'll search high and low for her, but there isn't anything that would locate where she is. Her disappearance keeps them up at night for many years until a vaguely familiar person visits the manor.
They awkwardly introduce themself, "Hi, my name is..."
They failed.
If anyone wants to write about this idea then go ahead. Doesn't even have to be the Batfamily. I won't write about it unless asked. I'm just not married to the idea. It almost 2 in the morning I need sleep.
#batfamily x batsis#batfamily x reader#bruce wayne x daughter!reader#dick grayson x batsis#damian wayne x batsis#jason todd x reader#ramble ideas from no one#tim drake x reader#batsis reader#batsis imagine
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I am begging for jealous Mike either angsty or fluff
But just imagine him pouting because we are focused on Abby and he wants our attention
But angst hes suddenly back to when the house was hollow and his parents barely uttered a word to him
YEA YEA YEA YEA NOW WERE TALKING OMG
this literally made me emotional writing it my poor pookie bear hes so wifey he doesnt deserve that
this is not proof read so it may be a bit ass so sorry
love you anon 😍
—
It was summer break for Abby, and by this point you and Mike had been dating for a few months.
Mike was… clingy to say the very least.
Not that you minded of course, you thought it was quite cute when he clung to your side at every oppurtunity.
It did interfere at times however...
Now was one of those times.
You sat beside abby at her desk, listening carefully as she explained each little bit of her drawing which was currently in progress.
A gentle smile formed on your lips, and you watched her carefully, your hand combing through her hair as she works.
She continued her rambles, and you cant help but chuckle at her eagerness.
A knock on abbys door tears you from your thoughts, yet abby doesn't flinch, continuing her work as you gently pat her back, telling her you'll be back in a moment.
When you open the door, you meet mikes tired gaze, and you frown a bit, stepping out and closing the door behind you. (to ensure abby's masterpiece making isnt disturbed)
"You ok my darling?" your voice asks, concern evident in your tone.
Mike nods, but it is hesitant, and he immediately begins to ramble nervously "it-its stupid nevermind" he whispers, sounding almost embarrassed as he turns on his heel to leave.
Your gentle hand reaches out to grab his own, eyebrows furrowing with concern.
"Its not stupid, talk to me mike, im here to listen" You say, your grasp on his arm gentle, yet enough to cause him to break.
He lets out a quiet sob, and you dont hesitate to pull him into your arms.
"Hey hey hey im here mike, im here, talk to me, ive got you" you say gently, one hand combing through his hair as he cries into your shoulder.
You let him cry, leading him to the living room couch where he rests his head on your shoulder as he sniffles.
"You wanna talk about it" you mumble, still caressing his hair
He nods softly, taking a few deep breaths to compose himself before he begins to speak.
"I-i- i wasnt g-given much attention as a kid... after garret a-after all my... my mom and d-dad were too wrapped u-up in their grief to... to care... there were nights w-when i had to cook my o-own dinner... i-i i didnt even know how... but burnt food was b-better than starving. even before the w-whole garret thing, he was t-their golden child" he says, taking in another shaky breath as he continues.
"Ever... ever since i started dating y-you... i felt... i felt loved... cared for... but s-sometimes i get... scared that... one day you'll just... stop caring. I-i mean you love abby s-so much- and i d-do too dont get m-me wrong... its s-stupid i know but s-some days i get scared abby w-will be just like garret... and you'll leave me like they did" he whispers, a bit embarassed by his jealousy of his younger sister.
Your face softens, and you pull away to cup his face with your gentle hands.
"Your problems are not stupid, and i love you so much mike, more than i think words can even portray, i will never, and i mean NEVER stop caring about you, you are my sun, moon, and stars, you know that?" you say gently, a smile on your face as you wipe any stray tears that escape his beautiful eyes.
"Im sorry it seems like ive been neglecting you for abby, that girl is just the sweetest and shes like a daughter to me, but never will i ever stop caring for you over her" you say eyes never leaving his own
he sniffles again, and another wave of tears takes over him as he engulfs you in his arms now, body shaking as you comfort him.
The two of you would be ok
It takes time to heal, but deep down mike knew that he had found a keeper, and he wouldnt want to heal with anyone else but you
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Humans Are Weird: Auditory Processing Disorder
Report # 306
Topic: Auditory Processing Disorder
APD: disorder of the auditory (hearing) system that causes a disruption in the way that an individual's brain understands what they are hearing.
Four days ago I was doing my monthly meeting with the electrical department, receiving updates on our monthly usage, needed parts, and checking up on general morale.
(The transcript of that meeting is already turned in.)
After the meeting we had refreshments and I discovered Lucy (previously mentioned in report #286) pouting in a corner. I inquired what was bothering her.
She said, "The ship's head medic just diagnosed me with APD but he wasn't trained to treat it." I asked for further information on the condition. She listed several of her personal symptoms.
"It means I don't always catch what people say. It feels like my brain doesn't want to listen. In one ear and out the other making me look stupid to however I talk to. It's connected to my misophonia, and the fact I was born really premature."
I was unsure how to comfort her so I made no effort. This seemed to work for Lucy kept speaking.
"And what's worse is there's nothing I can do! We don't have a speech therapist aboard or even any research materials! Its starting to affect my work performance. On top of decoding, hypersensitivity, and prosodic problems, I have integration issues which mean its really hard for me to focus on what people are saying when I'm doing something. Which freaking sucks when you're part of a team!"
I had no clue what she was really talking about but gave her a hug (human gesture of enveloping one in your arms as a sign of comfort or safety), and she apologized for "venting" to me.
She then spoke on how her crew mates just thought she was "slow" or wasn't good at her job. They questioned if she was capable because she would follow directions incorrectly and she was worried she'd be replaced with someone "less problematic". I tried to assure her that I would help anyway I could on her behalf. Never again will I doubt a human's sincerity.
After some of my own personal research I have made a list of the different types and their definitions for your education on the subject:
Hypersensitivity – Hypersensitivity to sound is often diagnosed as misophonia or hyperacusis. Misophonia is when people have adverse physical reactions to sounds, such as becoming nauseated by the sound of chewing or slurping. Hyperacusis, on the other hand, is characterized by a sensitivity to sounds. For some, this means that white noise can be deafening, even causing physical pain.
Decoding – Decoding difficulties involve a lack of figuring out words that are spoken. They hear the sounds, but their brains do not process them as words.
Integration – Integration applies to those who struggle to do multiple things while listening. Such multi-tasking may be writing notes and listening, or having conversations while typing an email.
Prosodic – Prosodic refers to people who have trouble with tone, inflection, and implied meaning. A question and exclamation are processed identically in their brains. Their speech is also often monotone.
Organizational – Finally, organizational, or output, is often characterized by not recalling information in a specific order or having difficulty with noisy situations.
Honestly, Humans are so diverse and unpredictable. To think that different "problems" or " abnormalities " within their mind or body can lead to even more similar issues astounds me. They are so intricate in a way my species has never been. Despite the struggles that their disorders, and conditions being, I think it's strangely beautiful. Maybe that's just me, but I have a new appreciation for them.
I am requesting the presence of a speech therapist, whether physically or digitally, to be readily available to our crew. We must also add APD onto our medics research requirements. It is not an overly complicated subject to be fluent in. I also request that Lucy's diagnoses be added to her list of wrongful termination along with her gender, age, and race. No one should feel their position is at risk because of a disorder or disability. I also request that a written copy of daily instruction be printed for her if necessary. She is one of our best electricians and I mean to keep her employed here as long as she wants.
Human Observer #5743
#humans are weird#humans are space orcs#APD#auditory processing disorder#its an educational one folks#Lucy#Human Observer#Human observer5743#Lucy is back#space#science fiction#sci fi#aliens#hope you like this one guys
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some notes on the wanderer/scaramouche's characterisation~
i first and foremost made this for myself since every time i touched upon the wanderer's speech something felt amiss. but i also hope these notes may be of help to any content creator in their characterisation of our favourite an-emo boy!
while writing these notes i went through phrases scaramouche/the wanderer utters to establish his choice of words and thoughts that may be hidden behind them! i also provided utterances themselves for almost every point i made so that his speech can be copied easier. besides, i tried to guess how this can be utilised in our head canons! :)
please keep in mind that these are still my notes of something that stood out to me, not absolutely everything. additionally, i still may misinterpret something + our interpretation may be different + you can see something as a stretch. that's ok! also, i listened to the english va + i speak of the balladeer and the wanderer as Two Different hypostases of a character, not the same continuous character.
hope you find it helpful!
INVERSION OF GENESIS.
★ when the balladeer/the wanderer is angry, he rarely raises his voice. he starts to whisper and even speak softer instead (it's about the english voice, but afaik it's also true for other voices, too). when he wants an emphasis on certain words, he whispers, too. this isn't true for battles, though, as he is very loud in his wanderer and shouki no kami hypostases.
★ his usual sarcastic structure is to state something he'd expect and then illustrate that someone is acting against it (as in, stupid). e.g. «ah, so if it were up to you, you'd finish the job? guess i had you all wrong. there i was thinking you were just getting cold feet,» «it's not every day you see people questioning the god of wisdom's judgment. just when you think you've seen it all.»
★ when he wants to threaten a person or make them do something, he isn't necessarily uses imperative sentences. he uses «i'd like you to» in «in return, i'd like you to answer a question for me» and still gets what he asks for. other examples are his «so why don't you relax your guard a little?» «let's cut each other a little slack, shall we?» and «so maybe you should think about backing off a little.»
as illustrated, instead of describing painful consequences, he undermines them instead. («a little» is his favourite word, it seems.) as evident later, it is coupled with his, err, laid back attitude towards threats to him. basically, he just lets people act stupid and walk into his traps.
from what we've seen from dottore, he also uses the same structure: «i suggest you keep your true feelings to yourself.» maybe, he was the one scaramouche copied.
★ overall, his sarcasm is what you'd usually see from people. it should be kept in mind that sarcasm is his initial response and he will use it as often as possible even if he could simply explain. there won't be any examples here, though, as there would be too many. but his conversations with nahida, paimon and signora illustrate it well. i believe sarcasm is his way to assert power since it builds on «common knowledge + the inversion of that» hence implying the opponent doesn't have this common knowledge -> they are stupid, he is not.
★ he is extremely professional and focused on completing the task successfully. he knows how operations (which the traveller suggests he was assigned when he was the harbinger) are carried out and follows the strict algorithm. e.g. «(to nahida) we will now proceed to the heart of irminsul», «permission to begin searching for information?»
he isn't easily swayed when he works and tries to get this attitude out of the traveller and paimon, too, just asking them not to fall behind.
★ he follows the agreement with nahida: how they will walk into the irminsul and what his tasks will be. he completes them without any chatter and keeps nahida updated as he should. even after the revelation about the tatarasuna's history, he still is able to proceed with his task.
★ «you can't have your prisoner knowing too much,» «i understand that prisoners have to put up with harassment from the guards,» it may be a stretch, but from these sentences + how he talks about his relationships with the fatui i can conclude that he easily justifies abuse towards himself. the balladeer/the wanderer isn't the person who just lets people do that, but whenever abuse happens, he easily explains it by the natural order of things and weaklings suffering from the strong ones because they deserve it. hence, whenever he ends up being the weak one, he believes he deserves this abuse. this can seep through into in his further interactions with people who care about him should any fight occur.
★ «sometimes it's you using them, other times it's them using you.» it comes in a direct parallel to niwa's words about dottore's attitude towards kabukimono: people of tararasuna didn't want to use him, hence it's the doctor who altered scaramouche's perception of human relationships. the balladeer/the wanderer believes in mutual gain and uses it to: 1) get what he wants from the traveller, 2) pay back for nahida and the traveller's help.
thus, it's safe to conclude he uses this principle as a moral compass in every social interaction he comes across. he could use this law to navigate his personal life instead of his emotions.
★ «most of human relationships are this way… certainly the stable ones are.» it is easier for him to predict when he stops being valuable to someone and toss other people out when they are not useful to him, so there is no sudden abandonment. it is easy to see how it corresponds with his trauma. this principle gives him the illusion of control since he can calculate everything, and gaining control over situations that may lead to the repeated trauma is a response real abuse survivors have. hence, it's safe to conclude the wanderer will try to find what other person gains in his more sincere relationships and, what's worse, may use other people who care about him out of habit since it's a natural order for him.
★ even though he earned the reputation of someone who doesn't bite his tongue when he should he doesn't backtalk or lie when it isn't beneficial to him.
★ he admits to managing «cordial conversations», so while the wanderer may avoid participating in small talks at all, it isn't unreal to picture him having one and not imploding. this is also something confirmed by his first appearance in the unreconciled stars event where he handles a friendly conversation perfectly - so the friendliness is just something he knows (and studied intently as kabukimono) but ignores on purpose. social skills are there.
★ the balladeer and possibly the wanderer, too, is sadistic in a classical sense of the word. he admits to enjoying stomping on the pests, meaning bringing pain and destruction to people. this can also be confirmed by one of the husk of the opulent dream's pieces. there, it is stated that «he also loved watching expressions of terror and helplessness play across human faces, and it was perhaps precisely because of this imbecilic underling's expressiveness that he had kept them around.» as the balladeer, he let some of his subordinates stay not because of their usefulness, but because they were funny to abuse. (also. hot.)
thus, it can be possible that in a less hostile environment of the akademiya the wanderer can struggle with this side of himself, hurting people on purpose. this can also become something he has to fight in relationships with people he cares about.
★ before his memories are restored the wanderer is polite and reserved. he apologises, calls his boss properly and tries to do his part. we can notice the similar behaviour of the balladeer but weaponised to imitate friendliness (e.g. unreconciled stars). there isn't any features of a classical shy character, he doesn't stutter or use abrupt phrases.
★ «i ran into him out in the wilderness during the storm, and he let me take shelter in his cart. in return, i said i'd be his helper for a while.» even before he gets his memories back and remembers principles the fatui likely taught him, the wanderer navigates his relationships with others through understanding what he gets and what he must give in return.
it is clear that he spent some time in the shop already and made enough work to make the merchant uncomfortable for exploiting him. thus, the «for a while part» isn't quite true. the wanderer has nowhere to go so he has every intention to pay back more than he needs to, to just stay somewhere.
hence, he can continue using this principle in his relationships with others, creating a conflict where he is dead set on paying back with little to no regard for his own feelings.
★ «i don't deserve your protection.» it seems that even before he restores his memories and is only told about his sins, the wanderer already despises himself enough to reject help. this attitude may exist later, when the wanderer restored his memories, with an added «i'm not that weak» but this is only my speculation.
however, this phrase may be another example of him carefully weighing what others give to him and what he should return.
★ «(uttered by the jester) what you are, truly, is a weapon, one that can be wielded with an iron will…» to further ingrain the thought that the balladeer is a tool, not a person, the jester proposes the idea of seeing himself as a weapon to kunikuzushi. coupled with dottore saying someone will eventually use kabukimono, it seems this was the strategy that was used to keep the balladeer in the harbinger ranks.
thus, we can see that the balladeer continued to suffer abuse due to 1) his beliefs in the strong dominating the weak, 2) his illusions that he is a person shattered by events of tararasuna, hence he perceives himself as an object, a weapon that must endure. the latter is a bit of a speculation but i don't think it is far off the mark:
★ «now that i've had a taste of just about every flavour in this world, i've found that actually… bitterness is the one i like best,» and the whole bitterness discussion in the teapot are the example of him pushing himself to his limits in order to being able to handle the true bitterness of life. (also, it lies in a nice parallel with ei/shogun's «illusions shattered» thing, but i diverge.)
★ «(uttered by the jester) or, you could continue to drift aimlessly.» another tactic fatui used to win kabukimono over was his obvious lack of any goals and place to go. we can see that the wanderer finds himself in a similar position, staying with the merchant because he had nowhere to go. long time ago, the balladeer stayed for these very reasons with much, much more dangerous people than a common merchant.
★ «i'm harsh on myself and everybody else.» while the former comes from the low self-esteem and believing himself to be weak, the wanderer also won't be patient with anyone's blunders. i suspect especially if it's about someone in his charge or if it's about work. i also suspect that an easy way to get on his good-ish side is to act this way as well and not let any mistakes slide.
★ «utility to others is what makes me worth.» as soon as his memories were implemented into him, he is reverted back to his harsh principles ingrained into him by the fatui. it seems there isn't any other tool he could use to measure his worth. the base principle that any life is worth something does not exist for someone who didn't see himself as an alive being for several past centuries.
hence, it can lead to reckless behaviour driving him to his limits which will cause stress to someone who cares about him.
★ «oh right… i almost forgot. you're the good guys. you're into justice and all that.» this is his answer to the traveller trying to argue with how the wanderer sees his own worth. i believe there's some division between what he thinks good guys deserve/what the wanderer himself deserves. thus, while it is possible he will agree that life's worth is life itself after some long argument, he still won't apply this to himself. i believe it's a somewhat common coping mechanism to think «people don't deserve X, but i deserve X.» (i'm not talking about his crimes, btw.)
★ «no nonsense. i like it.» he approves when the traveller doesn't argue with the «let them stab the blades into my chest if they so desire. maybe that's how it always should have been.» while the wanderer might need support in his life and changing his self-destructive perspective might be of great help to him, it seems he still wouldn't appreciate a direct approach to that.
VOICE LINES.
★ one of the most consistent features of the wanderer is despising the idle chatter, as evident in this idle voice line, «it's rather pathetic to force a conversation just to occupy silence.» another example is the husk of opulent dream's description: «the youth, hating chatty humans the most, gave his subordinate a backhand slap.»
so, the balladeer/the wanderer despises small talk even if he can participate in one. he would likely appreciate people who are just focused on the task and don't say anything that isn't related to their common goal at the moment. perhaps, it can be used to form a wordless bond between him and people who hang out with him.
it seems that he is quite harsh in his criteria for the idle chatter since his subordinate asks quite a normal question of where the harbinger is heading next.
★ looking through every voice line about other people, it can be argued that the wanderer's initial algorithm to describe someone is to trash them. but i believe we should also remember most of his voice lines are about the harbingers, and he's never had particularly warm feelings towards his colleagues. other four are yae miko and raiden shogun, and he isn't fond of them both, and kazuha and nahida. last two are the only people he doesn't despise, and these voice lines are pretty tame, while not an open praise.
★ «i have no need for food. save me the trouble and take care of yourself and that small thing floating next to you.» this can be perceived both as him not wanting the traveller getting in his way like the balladeer's subordinates, or genuine, poorly expressed care. thus, the wanderer may say dubious phrases with that intention whenever he expresses his care.
★ «so, you're still stewing over our run-ins from before? huh. well, what are you going to do about it? take your time. i'm in no hurry.» the wanderer's attitude to threats is quite unique. other examples of that are his lines from the trailer, where he answers «sure i will» and «i look forward to that» to the threat that he will pay for his attitude. also, «fine by me – come one, come all, i say. as a matter of fact, i'm somewhat looking forward to it.»
basically, you can read his behaviour as «you can be stupid enough trying to attack me, and i won't stop humans from being stupid, and the outcome is their fault.» it's basically all over his trailer where he waits until the fatui attack first.
★ when it comes to answering for his sins, though, i would rather see it as accepting his punishment. it is also evident in his falling voice line, «the price for my sins.»
★ «the gods aren't guided by any kind of rationality or moral compass. haven't i shown that to you already?» i believe he doesn't mean ei or nahida here, two archons he is connected with, because he didn't show us anything in regard to them. (we dealt with problems with them ourselves) what he might mean is shouki no kami. this also may be evident in his battle ost and, «(about his actions) after all, gods have never been needed to be reasonable.» so this phrase may indicate irony he feels regarding his actions as an archon.
★ overall, it seems that he's rather profiling everybody for us rather than giving his pure opinion.
★ «anger, whether it be from others or myself, is too convenient and useful as a tool.» while the balladeer went as far as becoming a god only to become emotionless, he now learns an actually legitimate way to deal with anger. the first step to do it is to learn that anger is a normal emotion and how to channel it instead. thus, he can also learn this about other emotions and that each one of them is ok. knowing he uses the utility of everything as a compass, the utility of emotions may be something that will help him accept them.
★ «don't you know that's only asking for trouble?» coupled with the phrase from his birthday letter, «has she ever stopped to think about what an «experience» it is for others to meet me?» it is apparent that while behaving highly unsociable due to detest for idle chatter, he also wants to shelter others from his presence since he believes it is nothing pleasant. i believe he also thinks it will only bring suffering in the end – to them.
★ «it's not so much that i have nothing to say… i just have nothing fun or positive to share,» explains another reason he avoids conversations – he just doesn't believe himself to be someone people would usually have as an opponent.
★ «if you don't mind, perhaps… we could sit here together for a while,» coupled with «the scenery here should be quite breathtaking» from his birthday voice line lets me think that his favourite quality time with others is to peacefully enjoy some scenery (he truly is a cat who just likes to be in someone's presence).
★ «are you so dumb as to have forgotten that i'm not human?» this is a less useful observation but i find it rather funny that he is annoyed not by the fact that the traveller may try to poison him but by the fact that they chose an ineffective method. if we wanna extract something useful, though, it can be said that if the traveller tries to kill him and fairly wins, he is ok with that as he is the weak one in this situation. but that's quite a stretch.
★ «i can see the great deal of effort you put forth,» «thank you for trying to look out for me. go get some rest,» and «it's generous of you to host me in your home. the least i could do is be grateful,» show pretty clearly that even after the wanderer restored his memories he is still able to express gratitude without exploding, and i don't believe he finds it useful to be mean when it isn't of any need.
★ «hey, you own this place. what are you so nervous about? it's not a good look,» coupled with «look at me, coming around here, criticizing your lifestyle choices.» everybody noticed how nice the wanderer is in the serenitea pot (as shown in the previous point). but this also reveals that while he enjoys being painfully straightforward and kept people around just because they suffered prettily, he doesn't enjoy when at least the traveller doesn't put up any fight. maybe it's about the subordinate/the equal difference. basically, he seems to respect people with strong personal boundaries. the ones who don't try to justify their own home where he is just a guest, at least. that would be logical since it's evident he navigates his life through «weak/strong» division.
★ «this is your home. arrange it as you wish,» this and previous voice lines illustrate once again that he isn't unnecessarily mean, at least not all the time. he understands the dynamics of a place he is in and how to be a grateful guest instead of shitting on every player's choice.
★ «the fact that things didn't work out doesn't make my past self a fool for hoping in vain that they would, does it?» and «you're a god. do you think i'm evil?» depending on whether we see the former as rhetoric or not, this may show that even though he is quite old, he still looks for guidance whenever it comes to more vulnerable topics. he looks for this guidance in people he respects, such as the traveller and nahida. and at least with nahida, he listens intently because the answer truly matters to him. maybe, if there wasn't any mechanic restrictions, he would listen to the traveller, too.
PRE-IOG SCENES.
★ «for just a small price, they get the feeling of controlling the world. trading their life for supreme power… pretty good deal, don't you think?» there isn't much to analyse as the utterance is pretty clear, but i just find it funny because this is what he ended up doing with shouki no kami. so either he fell into the same trap or he truly believed in what he said then and wasn't just mocking teppei.
★ «[haypasia] peered into my consciousness and saw my past. someone like that is qualified to become my first follower.» while this qualifies haypasia as a follower, having one also qualifies him as a god. but this can be perceived differently. haypasia saw his past and stayed devoted and didn't leave her god. it is my speculation, but this may be something scaramouche is after - this is a twisted form of acceptance. as the wanderer, he still may harbour such desire to be seen and accepted, leading him into healthy relationships or unhealthy obsessions. still, the whole haypasia sequence demonstrates that scaramouche is still a loyal individual, he just didn't have anyone to grant this loyalty.
★ on the same note, it should be said that scaramouche openly admits and expresses affection to haypasia. a mortal, a feeble human, mind you. because, of course, she is his first and only follower. thus, he can show such feelings honestly and without shying away if he deems it necessary, which might be useful for creating his future bonds with other people and maybe he will be much more open with them than we'd initially thought.
★ «has anyone ever told you that you're not good at sowing discord?» and «you're still too naive if you think a few words will be enough to convince me to destroy the doctor,» imply that before the revelation in 3.3, scaramouche wouldn't let just anyone get him on bad terms with the doctor and manipulate him into that no matter how much abuse by dottore he endured. no matter how bad his relationships with his colleges are, he will handle them himself. this is a note purely for me and my future writing of the wanderer, but it seems that even after 3.3 getting him out of the dottore's mental grasp will be a demanding task.
SMALLER DETAILS.
★ his idle emotion and his character picture are him smiling, so it isn't unusual for the wanderer to do it and even more natural - maybe, at least when he is alone.
★ whenever the wanderer finishes the task, he prefers to shortly say «done» without any chatter.
★ when it comes to speech, he doesn't divide his sentences much and uses compound, very complex ones freely. whenever he needs to explain something, if it isn't something he deems stupid, he does it fully and doesn't hold back.
★ scaramouche always calls nahida buer, perhaps as the way to show himself being above «demon gods», while the wanderer calls her lesser lord kusanali, which sounds more respectful as it is her title.
★ overall, i think the approach hoyo use for their characters is choosing one main characteristic (if you think about any character, you can remember One main thing about them) and then building their interactions around situations where it feature shows and situations where it is an exception and they act against it.
if we focus only on one type of these situations, we mischaracterise the character. thus, if we choose, say, the wanderer being mean as his main feature and focus on it, we miss out on times where it isn't true. for example, his respect for the traveller's realm or his desire to help others in a parade of providence. if we focus only on nice exceptions like that, we mischaracterise him as well.
updates:
★ now that we have both the second birthday story and his tcg lines, it appears to the wanderer is no stranger to doing something just to make someone happy. and then say it was only because he's got nothing to do. e.g., reading books someone recommended to him, «some vahumana students were trying to push some book recommendations onto me. i don't have anything else to do, so i'm just idly flipping through them» or playing a duel because he thinks it makes the traveler happy, «can a game like this really make you so happy? childish... if you want to play, then be quick about it,» «all smiles after winning a game like this? ha, so easy to satisfy,» «and the boring game is finally over... you happy now?»
#genshin impact#genshin#scaramouche#kabukimono#wanderer#genshin impact meta#writing#dottore#nahida#my post
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one summer day
00 guidepost.
where it all begins
>> 01 clear skies. | << the collection >>
pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader
a/n: my first writing in a loooong while, hope you enjoy!
word count: 650
warnings: none... yet
may, first year
as a musician, you hear the lilting melodies in little everyday activities. the rhythm of volleyballs hitting the ground as the team warms up, the clicking of mechanical pencils in a quiet exam hall, the birds chirping outside as you sit in class listening to the teacher. you don’t find it particularly useful nor distracting, it just is. just as you are.
since joining shiratorizawa’s symphony orchestra, you found yourself immersed in your new afterschool activity instead of staying on at the gym waiting for your brother to finish up practice. not that it was bothersome, you used the time to do your homework before you get home anyway. unlike your brother’s club, orchestra almost always ends on time, and you still find yourself back at the gym, tapping out the melody that you have been practicing in the orchestra.
with two years between you and your brother, he is already in his third year while you just started the school year as a first year. he is the official setter for the boys’ volleyball team since his second year, which you supposed made him one of the best setters in the region since shiratorizawa is in itself a powerhouse school for volleyball.
semi eita, heir apparent to your brother, spies you watching from the railing and waves to you as he runs back from retrieving the ball. you wave back at him shyly, wondering if his fans would be coming after you. you have known him for more than a month, in that short time, he has garnered a sizable amount of fans despite not being a starter for the team. the whole laying low in high school plan is not happening, it seems. despite being his friend, it’s not like you’re fully immune to his boyish charms either. though you suppose that his fans have it worse than you do.
your brother had introduced the two of you after their first practice of the new school year. you had peeked into the gym half an hour after the supposed practice end time, thinking it was probably safe enough as most of the players should have left by then, only to find him giving some pointers to semi on setting.
by then they had already noticed your presence. “come in, y/n, there’s someone i’d like you to meet. this is semi eita, i think he is in your class,” and so you became friends with an otherwise popular, untouchable boy.
your attention turns to the other first year playing on the court.
you distinctly remember him running up the stairs to retrieve the stray balls that happened to bounce up to the second floor, and you were caught like a deer in headlights. although your brother told you it was fine to watch from there, you were not sure if it was actually allowed.
“sorry! my brother told me it was fine to be here.” you had bowed to him before passing the balls that you had collected.
he had looked at you with the most puzzled expression before asking in a gruff voice “who are you?” at that question, you had immediately apologized again, unsure of whether you were about to be reprimanded for being where you should not be, left only your first name, and ran out.
later on, when you were walking home with your brother, he had laughed at you and called you stupid after you told him the whole thing that happened. but you were intrigued by the unnamed boy, by his olive-mud colored eyes that reminded you of your favorite hojicha drink, by his voice that left this strange tangled mess of melody in your chest.
“onii-chan, who is he anyway?” you pouted at your older brother, and turns out, he is also in your year. you had thought that he was in his second or third year, judging by his large build and the strength that sent the volleyball ricocheting up to the second floor. “ushijima wakatoshi. it looks like he will be our next ace.”
ushijima wakatoshi. even his name has a sense of steady strength that left you admiring the way it rolls off your tongue.
and so that tangled seed of song silently takes root in you.
let me know what you think in the replies! i would love to hear your thoughts :)
#one summer day#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima wakatoshi x you#ushijima wakatoshi x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima#haikyuu ushijima#ushijima x reader#ushijima x you#ushijima x y/n#ushijima fluff#ushijima angst#ushijima wakatoshi fluff#ushijima wakatoshi angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu angst#semi eita#shiratorizawa#wakatoshi x reader#hq wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi haikyuu#haikyuu wakatoshi#ushijima x reader fluff#ushijima x reader angst
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I loved the isagi with kaiser's sis‼️may I ask what if kaiser caught both of them getting a little too close(may you add some Ness relationship with the reader too?)
let's keep it a secret to him
❝ my heart is already with yours ❞
➜ getting caught by your older brother
➜ fem!reader
sugar level: 0% & 70% | possible continuation of this shot ; slight angst but a good ending
when kaiser was scheduled for an interview, he received a question from the host.
"if you could pick a member from your team to date your younger sister, who would it be?"
upon hearing the question, kaiser made an initial facial reaction that had not only the host but the staffs rolling in laughter at the face he made. as he puts his jokes aside, he finally opened his mouth to speak into the microphone.
"it would be ness" he replies along with a nod of his head.
"ah! germany's midfielder!" the host spoke, blinking eyes twice. "now i'm curious, why ness out of all your other team members?"
"he's a well mannered individual who always has a smiling demeanor. behind camera's, ness and y/n gets along very well. so i approve the relationship if they date." kaiser responded.
click!
isagi tosses his phone and lays down on his bed nonchalantly, emitting a sigh from his lips.
sure ness has the visuals and say the personality (in which he tried hard not to gag at this) that could make any guy or girl swoon, no doubt that bastard münchen's midfielder could make a girl like y/n kaiser swoon.
he's a professional player for one of europe's best teams, takes home how much money after a game, has hundreds and thousands of people cheering his name in a large stadium; the guy is practically swimming in fame and fortune.
but what about me? isagi thinks, closing his eyes to shut the blinding lights.
"hello? hellooooo?"
he's still making a name for himself not only in japan, but to the rest of the world as well. would someone like him make y/n turn her head to look at him? even if he isn't a professional player, doesn't take home how much money after a game and probably has people doubting his play style?
a girl like y/n would never in a million years turn her head to look at him. if all of them gathered in one field, she'd probably put her attention to notable players...let's say, like ness.
"isagi? helloooo?"
yeah. ness seems like a much better option for her. it's probably time to give up considering pursuing her. give up making kaiser listen to him and say he's the much better option for his sister.
"isagi!"
jolting his eyes wide open as someone calls out his name, isagi now finds the position he is in...weird.
"what were you thinking that you couldn't hear me?" he sees y/n pouting, straddling on top of his waist. "what were you thinking so deeply?" she asks again before the worried facial expression turns into a shocked one.
"i didn't realized you were probably trying to get some sleep!" she says, kneeling up from his waist. "oh well, good night-"
"no, stay." isagi spoke, placing his hands on her waist as he drags her to sit back down. in which y/n blushes at his touch.
"you wanted to know what i was thinking right?" isagi begins to say, eyes trained on hers. "here's what i was thinking. maybe we should stop meeting like this. meeting in secret is stupid. your brother's right, maybe ness is the perfect guy for you. he obviously can provide for you, i'm just a nobody."
"think smart, y/n." he says. "choose him, choose ness." he finishes, extending his hand out to you.
"i'd like to take the other piece of earbud back." he demands.
the earbuds is the only and sole reason why you two understand each other without trying so hard. unbeknownst to isagi, y/n continued learning japanese so one day, she could surprise him.
isagi's eyes widens once more as y/n takes a hold of his hands, pinning them besides his head.
"don't talk like that." he hears y/n say, a serious yet soft expression on her face. "why make me turn on you and choose someone i don't like? i choose you, isagi. and i'll always choose you." y/n says.
"i like you precisely because you continue to strive and improve everyday. i've never liked a person more than you, isagi. back then, i only come here to support my older brother, but now that i get to be this close you, that's all i need. if we could be like this forever, i'll never ask for more."
her words. her words hit home. her words that crept into his heart.
just as y/n is about to lean down and isagi closing his eyes, the two teenagers heard another voice speak to them.
"ahem"
turning their heads to the direction of the voice, it was kaiser, looking at them while leaning by the doorway.
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x reader#isagi yoichi#blue lock x you#bllk x reader#bllk imagines#bllk fluff#bllk x y/n#isagi fluff#isagi x reader#isagi blue lock#isagi x you#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi yoichi x you
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Steve Harrington x Tall, Intimidating Male Reader
Anonymous asked:
Steve Harrington x boyfriend male reader who is super stoic and quiet and TALL and BEEFY, but around Steve he manages to smile and laugh and b all cute? :) everyone misjudges him and thinks he’s all scary n shit but Steve is all 💞💕💝💝💗💓”nooo he’s my teddy bear”
A.N.- Am I finally back? I might be, don’t hold it against me. I know it’s been forever so if you’ve stuck it through and you still follow me, you’re a real one and I love you. If you’re just passing by that’s okay too, check out my masterlist if you’d like. Love you guys, and I hope you enjoy :)
—-------------------------------------------------
You met Steve through Dustin, which isn't surprising
Dustin basically made you his 3rd parental figure because he saw right through the ‘tough’ facade like he did Steve and Eddie
Steve didn’t necessarily avoid you before Dustin introduced you two, but he certainly didn’t make an effort to talk to you or look you in the eye for too long
He really did find you charming and ~mysterious~ in a weird way, even if you didn’t talk much
(He wouldn’t admit that he told Dustin he was spooked by you, even if Dustin told you anyways)
Once he saw how good you were with Dustin, it didn’t take him long to develop feelings in the midst of taking care of Dustin and occasionally the other kids together
It did take him a little bit to get a good conversation out of you, coughing awkwardly when he asked a question and you gave a simple answer, and he was put off by your resting face for a while
When you two got together, he quickly found out how sweet and cuddly you actually were, and how lovely your smile was when you laughed at his stupid jokes
He always made an effort to make you laugh or smile, or to simply charm you, even if it made him look stupid
He always always looks up at you with that goofy smile and waits for your reaction
It doesn’t matter how much taller than him you are, he will put his arm around your waist when you stand next to each other
It’s okay though cause you usually rested your hand on his back or your arm on his shoulders (and maybe on his head if he was being annoying, and yes he scolded you for it)
ABSOLUTELY mom/dad dynamic with all the kids
Steve being the scolder (lovingly, of course) and you typically giving in to whatever the kids wanted to do (as long as it was safe, of course)
Max sometimes jokes about liking you better than Steve (liar, she likes you both) only because you’re less strict
”We were their age once, too, Steve”, that was your motto
Pet names like ‘Honey’, ‘Sweetheart’, ‘Babe’ were thrown around a LOT between you two
Honestly, with the kids, it didn’t take you two long to just act like a married couple
Steve is nearly always little spoon, don’t tell anyone though
(You told Dustin, he said “I knew it.” and snapped his fingers. You’re unsure how many of the others now.)
You enjoyed picking up Steve when you hugged, just to hear him yelp when his feet no longer touched the floor
The kids enjoy bombarding you and half of them just jumping on you, just for you to scramble to hold them all
They also enjoy how you keep some of the bullies off of them and some of the rest of the party, but there was only so much you could do since you’re graduated
Sometimes you enjoyed picking them up from school to watch the bullies back off when they saw you
(So sorry about all the kids’ headcanons, but honestly they’re included with Steve one way or another, let’s be realistic)
Steve likes to pretend he’s just as intimidating, but really all you need to do is stand there while he scolds whomever may be misbehaving that day
(most of the kids see right through you so it does Not work on them typically, especially Dustin and Max. You are okay with this.)
For how much he talks, you two are the perfect match. You just sit and listen to his rants.
ESPECIALLY when he’s driving, he just seems to spill all his thoughts without even thinking, and you just nod along and ask questions every once and a while
You enjoy every second of it. Sometimes you get caught sending hearteyes his way and Steve goes "What?", and you shake your head and tell him to continue
He LOVES borrowing your tshirts and hoodies/sweatshirts when he spends the night, just to sleep in because of how big and soft they are
Hugs you just to hold you there, his head either right in your neck or in your chest
Goes on his tiptoes to kiss you, forgets at some point and is laughed at by the party and he goes bright red
He’s quiet as you leave them at Will’s house and you speak up
“I think it’s cute when you do that.”
“Shut up.”
—-------------------------------------------------
#steve harrington x male reader#steve harrington x male!reader#stranger things x male reader#male reader
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Hi! If your open for requests I'd like to see headcanons for rengoku, Tengen, and inosuke and with a reader who is blind? I'm legally blind although I still can see colors and vague outlines, I think it be cute!! Please and thank you!!
Inosuke
Inosuke isn't very sensitive about these topics
When he first sees you almost run into a wall, he asks if you're stupid on purpose
After that he might be rough but he will try his best to keep you from hurting yourself
If it happens too much in one day he will throw you over his shoulder and carry you where you're trying to go
He has eyes anyways so he may as well help you out when he isn't really using them for anything!
Gets very freaked out when you accidentally make eye contact with him though
Will literally tremble, he thinks you've gained sight just to spite him
If you really want him to listen to you, you can try to look him in the eyes by guessing and if its even slightly on target he will give you his full attention and attend to all your wishes just please stop doing that what the fuck
He likes when you rely on him a little more though, it inflates his ego a lot
Kyojuro
He is as gentle as he can be with you, while also trying not to assert himself too much in your life
Rather than saying something, he’ll just put his hand in front of you before you walk into something like a wall or puddle so you hit him instead
It becomes very subconscious for him, he does it so much that he stops realising it and you just learn to redirect yourself after feeling it
Kyojuro believes in your more enhances abilities to keep you safe, but knowing his job he has to consider alternative ways to keep you home and safe at night
Would ask you to babysit Senjuro when he is out on a mission so you feel like you are doing something, but he tells Senjuro to take good care of you
Senjuro likes your company a lot anyhow, and finds your home to be very comfortable
He would find your enhances abilities very impressive, like how you can memorise entire paths and structures just by walking around them once or twice
Uzui
One of the first things he ever said to you had something to do with his looks
To which you responded about him being 'nothing more than average'
Ouch but he liked the spice
Uzui wasn't an idiot, but he probably hadn't realised you were blind for a longer time than he would have liked to admit
"You wrote me letters!"
"Someone else wrote them, I just said what I wanted"
Defeated
Okay sure, he knows you are capable of taking care of yourself, but something about the fact that you couldn't see danger coming your way upsets him
I mean, what if a demon is talking you up into thinking they're human? And you perish at their hands full of trust?
Because of this, Uzui keeps either himself or his wives in your proximity just in case
Thankfully you don't seem to mind, and the girls love talking to you since you tend to be the least judgemental of anyone they had ever met
Expect to always have someone who loves you right by your side, even if you don't realise it
Authors Note - Strangely enough I got a very similar request right after this, characters and blind and everything! I deleted it, but then I got another one!
This hit a little close to home, my eye sight deteriorates a lot in one of my eyes every year! Thankfully I will always have one, but still! Please enjoy <3 I made reader 100% blind so its more interesting!
#inosuke#inosuke x reader#kyojuro#kyojuro x reader#uzui#uzui x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer headcanons#headcanons#kny headcanons#kny#kny x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#x reader#reader insert
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Meant to Be
read on Ao3
words: 2768
Charles Smith lived on his own, in the woods, for almost fifteen years, but when a confrontation with the Pinkerton Detective Agency ends badly, he is helped by two kind, mysterious strangers who offer him safety with their gang.
--
Steadying his breath, Charles narrowed his eyes toward the other man, his mind racing. The man, after chasing him down on horseback, stood upon the hill alone, wearing a bowler hat, a gold pin, and a stupid grin.
“Ah, finally. The man in the woods. I’ve been wanting to meet you for quite some time.” The stranger’s voice was calm and condescending as his hand drifted toward his belt, resting lightly on the hilt of his gun.
“Why?” Charles asked, already wondering which weapon he should have at the ready. “What could you possibly want with me?”
The man seemed delighted by something. “So you do speak! Why, I figured you were more animal than human…”
Charles drew in sharp breath, deciding he should probably reach for the revolver he’d stolen some time ago if things went even more south. “That didn’t answer my question.”
His mouth twitched, and the man held up his hands in a surrender motion. “No harm, no foul.” He reached up to tip his hat. “My name is Edward Williams. I work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Some reports came in about a man who lived in the woods; a man who was very good at hunting.”
“So you came to take me down because I need to survive?”
“No, no, nothing like that. Don’t get so defensive with me, sir.” Williams still had that grin on his face as he spoke. “No, in fact, I’m here to offer you a job with the agency. We need more detectives who are…ah…better in the field. Better at hunting. Besides, civilization is becoming quite popular these days. It isn’t necessary for you to live out here.”
Charles paused, thinking this must be some kind of sick prank. He hadn’t seen any humans around these parts for a while - how had a detective gotten out here? And stranger still, why would they offer him a job, the man who had been living in the woods since he was thirteen?
It had to be a trap. And even if it wasn’t, Charles didn’t want to work for the government system that took his parents away from him. His mother, the army. His father, the bottle.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested. I’m sure you can find someone else that fits your description, Detective Williams.” Charles bowed his head as a sign of respect, however wavering it may have been, and watched as the detective’s mouth twisted a little.
“What a shame,” Williams sighed. “In that case, I hope I do not have to use force to ask you to come with me again.��
Charles eyed the man for a moment. “You said you weren’t here to take me down.”
“I wasn’t. I was offering you the job, but since you’ve refused, we’ll have to take you in as a suspect instead.” The agent tilted his head. “Lot of complaints ‘round these parts about an Indian roaming around all suspiciously. We have to protect the women and children.” His gaze hardened. “Don’t resist, it will only make things harder for you.” A leaf crunched atop the hill, but it wasn’t Williams. Charles froze, watching five men join Williams atop the hill, all holding guns. They had been there the whole time, just out of sight, and Charles was beginning to wish he had just made a run for it the second the man opened his mouth. Williams smiled, fake pity on his face. “No need for the long face. My friends won’t hurt you, long as you come up here nice and quiet.”
His gaze swept across the six detectives. Surely he’d be able to take them, and he could just get back to his life away from other human beings. Pulling out his revolver as quickly as he could, he dove behind a nearby boulder while Williams yelled at his men to open fire. Bullets rained down and Charles muttered a curse under his breath.
He knew it was a trap.
Taking a deep breath, he listened to the sound of the bullets to tell him when he could peek up and aim. He aimed and shot. One in the chest, one in the head, one clean through the stomach. Three detectives remained, but they knew better than to stay where they were, beginning to close in on the boulder where Charles hid. He had to do this fast. He aimed upward, pulling the trigger while rolling behind the nearest tree. A yell of anguish filled the air and he knew they were just down to two men left. As he fumbled to reload his revolver, he felt cold metal press against his back.
“Drop the gun,” Williams hissed into his ear, and Charles reluctantly did so. “Much better. Now we can get along, hm?”
The other detective smirked, still aiming his own gun directly at Charles. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly, a shot rang through the air. Blood splattered everywhere from the other detective’s face, and is body dropped to the ground. In his shock, Williams let go of Charles, who turned around to wrestle the man to the ground, kicking his gun away from him. Williams snarled, spitting on Charles’ face.
“You’re nothing.”
Charles, his breath heaving, stood up to aim his gun down. He didn’t hesitate.
Once Williams was nothing more than a corpse, Charles breathed in, looking around wildly for the source of the other bullet. It couldn’t have been the Pinkertons.
In the distance, near the clearing, stood two silhouettes, blotted out by the golden light of the setting sun. He remembered his father once talking about angels, but he never quite believed it. Now, he wondered if it were true.
“Hey, there,” one of the silhouettes called. Both shadows held up their hands to show they no longer wielded guns as they took cautious steps forward. “Are you alright?”
Charles still held his revolver, just in case. These men had saved him, but he’d learned a long time ago that many men would save people specifically for ulterior motives. “Yes, I’m fine,” he answered anyway. It was the truth. He was uninjured, and things had been a whole lot worse a few minutes ago.
Perhaps feeling a little more confident, the two men continued walking until they were just a few feet away, and now Charles could get a better look at them. They looked like normal men, but being able to shoot someone from that distance so accurately told him they weren’t normal.
The older man, with kind eyes and gray hairs hidden beneath a dark hat, gave Charles a once-over. “I’m glad to hear that, son. Why were the Pinkertons after you?”
“I…don’t know,” he admitted, finding himself less and less intimidated by the second. “He said something about people reporting me to them. But I don’t talk to anyone.” Deep down, he knew the reason why. He knew, because of the looks people would give him just because of the way he looked, because of who his parents were, because of who he was.
“You know how some people are,” the other man, with the sandy hair and well-trimmed beard, mumbled, as if reading his thoughts. “An’ the Pinkertons are bullies.”
Charles nodded, glancing down at the body of Williams. “Seems that way.” He looked back up, clearing his throat. “Thank you…for the help. I should get going. They’re probably gonna be sending more this way, after all that gunfire.”
“Yes, probably,” the older man agreed, but tilted his head slightly. “It’s not safe for you here anymore. Would you…like to come with us?”
“Come with you?” he repeated incredulously, glancing between both men. The younger one had the ghost of a smile on his face, like this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. “I don’t even know you.”
“My name is Hosea Matthews. This here is Arthur Morgan. We got a camp, few miles north from here, full of lovely folks. You’re welcome to come with us, check things out, and you can leave if you want.”
Charles narrowed his eyes slightly. “Who are you, really?”
“We’re a gang,” Arthur answered plainly, as if it weren’t a big deal. “We ain’t good people, but we’re better than those bastards.” He nodded toward the bodies, and Charles followed his gaze.
His mind told him to run away, to not trust these men. He figured nothing good could come of it. He’d survived this long on his own before, surely he could take more of those agents if they came. Though he knew that was the rational way of thinking, his heart told him to trust them. His heart told him that if not for them, he could be dead by now.
Maybe it was Hosea’s kind eyes. Maybe it was Arthur’s smirk. He couldn’t tell.
“…Alright. I’ll come with you.”
Charles went toward one of the nearby trees to grab his small satchel. He could hear the two quietly talking amongst themselves.
“You’re never excited when we invite a new feller,” Hosea was saying goodnaturedly, probably not meaning for Charles to hear. Arthur scoffed.
“You seen how he handled them, Hosea. He’s pretty good.”
“So was Micah, and you hate him.”
“Micah’s an idiot. This feller ain’t.”
When Charles returned to them, Hosea straightened up. “Do you have a horse, son?” When he shook his head, Hosea glanced at his companion. “Well, then, you can ride with Arthur. We got plenty of horses at camp you can borrow.” They each lifted a hand to their mouths, whistling, and the sound of galloping hooves grew louder and louder until two horses appeared beside them.
Hosea mounted his, and Arthur gestured. “After you.”
Charles eyed Arthur for a moment. He couldn’t quite get a read on him. He wondered if it was possible that he really was just excited to meet him, to have him come join the gang. Without a word, he climbed on top of the saddle, and Arthur mounted in front of him. They took off.
They rode in silence for a few minutes. Charles watched the passing trees and mountains with the waning sunlight, the sky morphing into different colors with each new moment. Suddenly, Arthur spoke, his gruff voice carried on the wind.
“What’s your name?”
“Charles. Charles Smith.”
“Nice to meet you, Charles Smith.”
Charles couldn’t see his face, but he could hear a slight smile in his voice. He couldn’t help but do the same. “You too.”
***
To say it was all overwhelming would be an understatement.
There were a lot of people in this camp, and all the looks he got when they first arrived were not lost on him. Most of them seemed uneasy when he dismounted, and he found himself pressing a little closer to Arthur as they walked toward a nearby tent. Standing there, watching them approach, was a man with dark hair, smoking a cigarette. He looked straight at Hosea, his eyebrows raised, as if asking a silent question.
“Dutch, this is Charles Smith. He was being pursued by the Pinkertons, but he held his own very well. I told him he could lie low with us for a while,” Hosea explained, probably loud enough for most of the camp to hear.
The man, clearly the leader of this gang, turned his gaze instead to Charles. His eyes almost seemed hungry as he took him in, but he gave him a kind smile on top of it. “Of course you’re welcome to stay, Mr. Smith. We shoot fellers as need shootin’, save fellers as need savin’, feed fellers who need feedin’, and I assume you need those last two.” Exhaling a puff of smoke, Dutch lifted his gaze toward the other prying eyes. “Everyone! Please make our new friend feel welcome. This here is Charles Smith. He’ll be staying with us for a while.”
There were some quiet murmurs, but eventually everyone went back to what they were doing before. Charles awkwardly bowed his head toward Dutch. “Thank you. For the welcome.”
“Of course. Let us know if you need anything.”
Perhaps able to tell he was overwhelmed, Hosea placed a grounding hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Are you hungry, Charles?”
He blinked, the question suddenly making him aware of how hungry he actually was. “A little.” He hadn’t had time to find food yet. He didn’t think he’d eaten anything since last night.
He let Hosea guide him, saying goodbye to Arthur for the time being, and took in the night while they walked. It was loud, but it still felt calm. Charles hadn’t been around this many people in a long time. At least he knew, for now, he could trust Hosea and Arthur.
They approached a man standing by a large pot, drinking from a small flask. “Mr. Pearson, good evening! Do you have anything left from dinner?” Hosea greeted.
Pearson finished his swig, then glanced between the two, seemingly doing a double take. “Ah, the new guy! Nice to see another new face ‘round here. Sure, made some broth earlier. Hope you like rabbit.” Carefully, the man poured some of the thick liquid into a bowl with a spoon, then handed it over. He beamed at Hosea. “Glad to see you’re talkin’ up my cooking for once, Hosea!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say ‘talking up,”’ he replied, the ghost of a grin on his face, “but when you’re hungry, everything’s good. Come on, Charles.” Charles thanked Pearson for the food and followed Hosea toward one of the picnic tables. “Here you are, son. Would you like to be left alone?”
Charles blinked in surprise. Of all the questions he could have gotten, that was not one he was expecting. Even more surprisingly, the answer was no. “Um…Would you tell me about everyone here?”
For a moment, Hosea looked taken aback. And then a smile, a real genuine smile appeared on his face as he sat across from him. “Of course.”
***
Dutch was the leader.
Hosea was his partner in crime.
Arthur was their son. Not really, but the three of them began the gang.
John was next, and then the rest of them trickled in.
It would take a long time to remember all of these names, but he was strangely feeling at home here. He’d never been shown such hospitality before. Everyone had at least tried to be nice, except for the guy with blond hair and mustache who’d talked to him condescendingly like Williams. He couldn’t remember his name, but he was the type of guy he would expect to be in a gang. Surprisingly, he was the minority. All of these people were kind.
Charles sat quietly on a spare sleeping bag, looking up at the stars while the nearby campfire crackled. A lot of the camp was asleep now, but he didn’t feel tired yet, despite the day he’d had.
“Thought you would have run away by now.”
Lowering his gaze, Charles took Arthur in, his face illuminated by the fire. He held back a smile, shaking his head. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.” He didn’t see that happening.
Arthur smirked, walking toward his tent, which happened to be right next to Charles’ bag. “Just wait ‘til you hear Sean’s terrible singin’. Karen always swears she’ll never come back.”
Charles glanced back up at the stars, letting a few moments pass. Then, “The real reason you wanted me to come with you was because you wanted me to join the gang, right? You want me to help you get money ‘cause you saw how good I shoot?”
He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a little satisfying that Arthur seemed taken aback. “Uh…we that obvious?”
“Yes. But…it’s okay.” Charles looked back at him. “You’re the one that shot the detective, aren’t you?” When Arthur nodded, he continued. “You saved my life. So maybe my life is meant to be more than just my own survival. I’ll help you.”
Arthur stared at him. “Wow. You’re pretty amazin’.”
Strangely, his heart skipped a beat. He supposed it was because he wasn’t used to talking to anyone at all, let alone being complimented. “...Thank you.”
A comfortable silence fell between them, and eventually, Arthur lay down in his sleeping bag. Charles continued to watch the fire burn until it was just embers, and then he lay down as well. The sky was full of twinkling stars that seemed to tell him this was where he was meant to be.
It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#charles smith#arthur morgan#hosea matthews#charthur#rdr2 fic#sorry if this doesn't make much sense#just wanted it to be cool#enjoy <3#my writing#agoldengalaxy#my post
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What About Now?
Cal Kestis x reader
warnings:
a/n: i was listening this at work to get ideas while i did the most boring job ever and i immediately got this idea and couldn’t stop thinking abt it omg. also hi erica!!!!
prompt: @sweetjedi: “Hello awesome human! 🙂Congratulations on your follower celebration!!! I hope it is kind to you. May I request, for the celebration: Song: What About Now - Daughtry Character: Cal Kestis Fandom: Star Wars Relationship: Romantic Thank you thank you! 💖 I hope you have a calm day.”
“I worry for you, Cal.” Jaro Tapal speaks as the young boy watches the pair, Master and Padawan, walk away from them, Cal’s expression turning more disappointed with each dwindling step. “I understand that it’s natural to feel strong emotions towards people close to you, but you must remember the rules of the Jedi Order.”
“‘No emotional attachment.’” The Padawan recited, sighing to himself and looking away from you and your master. “I understand the Jedi Code, but what if I can’t help it?”
“You will learn.” Master Tapal warned before turning the opposite way and leading his Padawan elsewhere.
Years had gone by, you had left that life behind. They left you no choice. You had a new name, a new look, a new purpose. Anything to separate you from the Order. Anything to keep yourself alive.
And everything was going fine. You found yourself living on a halfway-decent planet—one you believed to be your birth planet, actually. Your calling was no longer a protector of the galaxy, it was bartending. There was a certain charisma you had that attracted people to you, you made good money and lived your quiet little life. Until a familiar face walked through your doors. “We’re closed, come back in an hour.” You told them without looking back.
“Can you make an exception?” The man asked, which made you roll your eyes involuntarily as you turned around, only to freeze at the sight of a ghost of your past. “You look different.”
“You look the same.” You slapped your rag across your hand a few times, thinking of what to say next. “Taller.” There was an awkward silence as you and Cal stared at each other. You hadn’t seen anyone from your past in damn near eight years. “How’d you find me? We’re you looking?”
“Kind of.” Cal shrugged and stepped closer. “I didn’t know it was you when we got the lead, but…I’m glad it was.” You didn’t like the feeling you got when he said that.
“You’re here for something. What is it?” You were still apprehensive, in these times you had to be. You trusted Cal, he had a heart that you felt couldn’t be corrupted. But your motives may no longer align. The Force, the Order, the greater good of the galaxy. Those were all behind you, but it didn’t seem to be for him.
“Help.” He said, and your shoulders immediately dropped. The request exhausted you. “No, I know. It’s stupid, but of all the Jedi in the galaxy…I was lead to you. That can’t be a coincidence.” You stared at him, pokerfaced while he nervously tried to give you this convincing speech, but all you saw was that Padawan just as nervous to say “hi” as you walked past each other in the halls of the Jedi Temple. He took a seat as you poured him some water. “You seem like you have a comfortable life here, quiet.”
“Yeah, it’s nice. I haven’t had to worry about the Order or Empire in years.” You set the glass in front of him and sat down in the chair across. “Whatever you’re doing, Cal, I know your heart is in the right place, but I left that part of my life behind. I had to.”
“We had to. I’m right with you, y/n. I was doing just fine, a scrapper out on Bracca. I didn’t have any hope left in me, and I stood by and watched as the Empire abused innocent people around me.” Cal took a gamble and reached for your hand. “I was tired of fighting, I didn’t want to lose again. But a former Jedi Master found me, she inspired me to find my own path. We’ve already done so much to help, it’s just that we’re not enough.” You closed your eyes and gripped his hand back, missing the comfort of the past.
On one hand, you built your life here. You felt comfortable. You had a job, a home, and…you were lonely. You had no one, no companionship as a precaution because no one could know your secret and no one could be put in danger because of it. Would you just up and leave on a whim? For a boy you knew when you were young?
That boy was Cal, though. In another life, things could have been. But that was a sacrifice of the Order. And yet, here he was, holding your hand and staring into your eyes, telling you he needed you. He knew you were meant for more than bartending on the far side of the galaxy, and he was itching to be able to catch up if you’d let him.
“When do you need to leave?” You mumbled the question as not to excite him too much. His smile grew quickly enough, anyways.
“Is that a ‘yes?’” Cal watched as you nodded, standing up with you. “Now would be good. I’ll help you gather what you need from your place if you’d like.”
“Always the gentleman.” You chuckled. “Let’s get out of here before the regulars arrive, though.”
“Or the Empire.” Cal joked, sort of. They were looking for him after all.
“I’m not gonna regret this, am I?” You led him out the door and locked up.
“You’ll regret not doing it years ago.” What he said would be true. Years ago, your life was turned upside down. You traded one rule book for another. What he had proposed to you was more than a chance to help—it was freedom. And here you were with that boy you were told not to love all those years ago. And there was no rule book to stop you.
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @retvenkos // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @zoeyserpentluck // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @sheridans-dynamos // @lady-violet // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @simp-legend // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @your-local-simp0 // @elenavampire21 //
#cal kestis#cal kestis x reader#cal kestis imagine#jedi fallen order#star wars jfo#jedi fallen order imagine#jedi fallen order x reader#star wars#star wars imagine#star wars x reader
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Mysterious - The Corinthian Imagine (The Sandman)
Title: Mysterious
Pairing: The Corinthian X Platonic!Reader
Word Count: 1,097 words
Warning(s): none
Summary: The Corinthian allowed himself to have the closest thing to a best friend that you can have. Even he doesn't know why he didn't expect them to have some questions about who he is.
Author's Note: Listen. I just thought this was kinda funny. The idea of the Corinthian having a best friend that really isn't anything like him makes me chuckle.
Also, I haven't seen anyone write for him. Which was honestly kinda shocking, but I may have just missed them.
--------------------------
Being friends with the Corinthian was such a strange but amazing thing.
Even after getting past the fact that he called himself the Corinthian and refused to call himself anything else, there were just so many mysteries. The fancy suits, the attitude, the way he seemed to disappear for days (he would go on to explain them as work trips).
However, after being friends with him for so long, there was only one mystery that I wanted an answer to.
The damn glasses.
All hours of the day, no matter the weather, no matter the activity. He was always wearing glasses that perfectly covered his eyes. At first, I thought it was just a fashion choice. But as I saw how protective he got over them, I realized that it was something very different.
Now, I felt awful for doing this.
This was my best friend- or as close as I had ever gotten to a best friend- and I should've been able to just trust him. But I needed answers.
"I have a peace offering!"
I grinned as I walked down the hall to my apartment. The Corinthian was standing by my door with a bag of takeout.
"How long have you been out here," I asked.
"Not long."
"I don't believe you."
"Well, that's not my fault, now, is it?"
I chuckled and unlocked the door. He passed me and set the bag on my table as I shut the door behind me. I had to walk around him to put my stuff down.
"How's your day been?"
"Boring," I confessed.
"That's what happens when you don't see this face," he replied.
"Ah, yes, what a lesson I've learned," I rolled my eyes. "So humble, aren't you?"
"Oh, of course," he nodded.
I chuckled. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You just did."
"Don't be an ass," I scoffed. He held up his hands for a moment. "Why do you keep the glasses on?"
"Because I look damn good in them."
I raised an eyebrow at him.
"You don't agree?"
"You're not telling me the truth."
"Then, what's your theory?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted you to tell me."
"Trust me," the Corinthian stepped closer to me. "There's nothing mysterious going on here."
I nodded before biting my lip for a second. It was time to do something very, very stupid.
“Sorry!”
I snagged the glasses off of his face and ran in the opposite direction. I was left with one option: jump onto the bed and hope he won’t follow me.
I held the glasses stretched out in one arm, holding them away from him, and the other pushed out to attempt to keep him away.
When I saw his eyes, my heart felt like it stopped for a moment. Instead of eyes, there were two small mouths. I wasn’t scared of him. I was sad. Sad for him.
He didn’t move past the edge of the bed. Something about the look on my face made him less jumpy, I guess.
“Who did that to you,” I asked.
“Not the reaction I normally get,” the Corinthian replied like he was trying to make some kind of joke. When I didn’t laugh, he sighed.
“Who did this to you,” I repeated, voice louder and firmer. “And what did they actually do?”
His jaw clenched and he tilted his head down for a moment.
"I'm a nightmare."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "I mean... sometimes you seem a bit grumpy for no reason, but I don't see that being a good enough-"
"Not like that," he stopped me. He stepped forward. "I was created in the realm of dreams. I was created as a literal nightmare."
I blinked at him a few times.
"I didn't want you knowing," he continued. "You're the only person that I see any real value in. I thought this would scare you off."
I was still processing. A nightmare. I wasn't even sure that I fully understood what he was saying.
"You were made to haunt people's dreams," I asked, trying to make sure that I wasn't being stupid.
"Yeah," he replied. His shoulders dropped when I didn't say anything else. "I should go. Just hand me back my glasses and you'll never hear from me again."
My heart dropped when he said that.
"Well, as long as you keep your mouth shut about- woah."
I jumped off the bed and quickly pulled him into a hug. There was a long pause before I felt his arms wrap around me. He let out another sigh as his body relaxed, hugging me tighter.
"I don't want you to go," I muttered, almost sounding like a child begging their parent not to go to work. "Please don't go."
"I won't, I won't," he promised. "Just don't make me leave."
"I won't."
I stepped back and grinned at him, holding the glasses out to him. Even if I did mind- which I didn't- it was his choice if he wanted to waltz around without his glasses.
"Thank you," he grabbed the glasses from my hand and placed them back on his face. "See? They make me look good."
I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him.
"You really don't agree?"
"Didn't say that."
He pointed at me. "HA! I knew it!"
I stuck my tongue out at him before chuckling and shaking my head. I looked at him for a moment.
"What," the Corinthian asked. I raised an eyebrow at him. "I can see the little gears in your head working. Now, what is it?"
"I just... I have some really dumb questions about the mouth-for-eye thing."
He let out a laugh. "Let's get a drink and I'll answer any question you want."
I nodded and walked over to the counter, getting two drinks together. I handed him a glass and he motioned over to my table.
"Alright," he said, relaxing into the seat across from me. "What do you wanna know?"
"Do you have to eat through them," I asked.
"Have to? No."
"But you can?"
"Yup."
"What's that look like?"
"I don't think you actually wanna see that."
"Okay," I nodded. "Do you... Do you brush your... eye-teeth?"
There was a moment of silence before he spoke, "I am too sober for this conversation."
"Come on."
"No, I don't."
"What are you actually seeing with?"
"(Y/n)..."
"It's a good question!"
The night continued like that. Stupid conversations. Like nothing had happened. Nothing had changed.
And really, that's all I could've hoped for. Because I still had him.
And that's all I wanted.
--------------------------
Author's Note: We. love. wholesome. besties. Even when one of them is a murderer.
--------------------------
Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
#the sandman x reader#the sandman fanfiction#the sandman imagine#sandman imagine#sandman fanfiction#sandman x reader#fanfiction#imagine#x reader#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc fanfiction#the corinthian imagine#the corinthian fanfiction#the corinthian x reader
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au where clive runs for prime minister just to try one-upping b*ll h*wks
Anon, I want you to know this may be my favorite ask so far. The AU itself is amazing, but the censoring Bill Hawks' name ? Priceless. I feel like Socrates himself has come to enlighten me with incomparable wiseness-
Alright so sketches and writing under the cut ! =) No trigger warnings for this one. I had fun, I'd love to do more about this AU whenever I get the time !!
When you didn't think things through 😔 Which leads us to the fanfic-
"Professor, look !!"
Hershel Layton put down his cup of tea, anticipating the moment his apprentice would shove his newspaper in his face. With a patient smile, he took the paper in his hands and let Luke point out what piece of news had caused such excitement.
"'Clive Dove as the new prime minister' ?" Layton read out loud.
The article was front page and there was more about it in the following pages : it only made sense, with the agitation this news had caused. Bill Hawks had been prime minister before, and was the favorite candidate for this next mandate : him losing was quite surprising- quite surprising indeed.
"He doesn't look too happy," Luke said, tiptoeing to see over the professor's arm.
Layton looked at the picture in the middle of the page. On it, a shockingly young man was visibly upset, turned away from the journalists : he seemed to be yelling at someone on the side, cut off from the photo. "That is one way to put it." Layton hummed, his eyes staring at the young man a moment longer, before going to read the actual article.
"I'd be happy, I think, if I had just won the elections," Luke mused out loud. He couldn't even imagine it happening, actually : running for Prime Minister was so much work on its own !! Always giving speeches, moving around, discussing boring things- oh, and it must cost so much money too !! It must be so difficult just being a candidate.
Yeah, he'd probably be happy if he won after all that. This Dove guy was just weird.
"Say, Professor, don't you think he looks like me ? Maybe this is a sign I'll be Prime Minister some day !"
The professor didn't answer, focused solely on the paper in his hands.
-_-_-_-
"I am not doing it," Clive Dove said firmly. "I am not running this country. I quit."
John, his new personal assistant, a guy here just to listen to his every word and give him the attention Bill Hawks was desperate to get, protested loudly. "No offence Sir, but you have been prime minister for 47 minutes. The people want you as head of the country and you therefore deserve this post, especially after all the hard work and money you invested to get it."
"I don't care about the money or the people," Clive snapped. "I don't actually want this stupid job."
John was quiet for a moment, and Clive hated how unsurprised he looked. He didn't even seem disappointed or concerned, simply... irritated. It made sense for a government official : they only ever cared about things going smoothly, not making any disruptions, following the protocol.
Too bad, because Clive only cared about making their lives as difficult as they had made his.
"Well," John finally sighed, "you can always resign if you really wish to."
"Great." The faster he got out of this agonizing office, the better it would be. Clive took his coat in one hand, pushing the chair back with the other. He had no time to waste, because he was supposed to give his first speech as the new Prime Minister in about fifteen minutes.
He therefore only had fifteen minutes to leave this pathetic building and get as far away from this despicable life as possible.
Clive had his hand on the door handle when John spoke up again. "If you go through with your resignation, you'll need to sign the official declaration first."
Clive let out an exasperated sigh. Why were there declarations for everything ? Would he need a declaration to slam the door on his way out ?! "I'm leaving, what more is there to say ?!"
John was still facing the office, rearranging the files Clive had left behind : he seemed oddly calm for someone who'd have to announce both the nomination and resignation of the new prime minister. "Plenty, actually. But the more important part, the one we should focus on, is naming your successor."
Clive scoffed. "Why do I have a say in this ?"
"You don't," John simply answered. "But you'll have to confirm your official resignation, therefore leaving this post to the next best candidate. I believe Bill Hawks was the people's second choice."
Clive froze. That scum would actually get the job ? After everything he had done to keep him from it ?
Clive didn't want to rule the country- he had only run for the job to keep Bill Hawks from getting it. And he had succeeded ! But quitting now would give Hawks both the job and the pride to come out on top.
He couldn't do that. He didn't want to run the country, wasn't fit for it. He had no idea how to do it and he didn't want to learn. He hated this government, never cared about its people.
John was still rearranging the papers on the office, a peaceful smile on his face. He knew he had won, because winning was all that these miserable people cared about.
Well, Clive wouldn't let any of them win- not as long as he was head of this country. "Come on," he said, putting his coat on. "I have a speech to give."
#I actually headcanon that Clive could be a decent leader if he really tried to =)#But it would only be by accident ahah#Like he'd make a terrible decision NO ONE would have gone with and it turns out fine but it doesn't go the way he thought it would#People hate him as a person but as a leader he's passable. So it's all good really =)#clive dove#professor layton and the unwound future#professor layton and the lost future#My art#My writing#Ask
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Febuwhump Day 11: Time loop
CW: Fatal injuries, blood, mention of torture
Continued from Day 8.
AO3
---
Time set out an hour after his conversation with Four. He'd wanted to go sooner, but Sky had dropped into another fit of terrified screams and struggles. Despite his weakened state, he'd broken Hyrule's nose and bitten Wind's hand hard enough to break a bone before he collapsed again. Time hoped desperately that when - when - he recovered he would remember nothing and his injured brothers would indeed forgive him.
Once that was resolved, Time took Warriors and Twilight aside and told them, "Four has given me an idea for something that might help. I'm going to go back to that dungeon."
"I'm coming with you," said Twilight immediately.
"You're not," said Time. "I'm going back alone and I'm going to confront that mage, but I don't know whether my idea will work if anyone is with me. It's not worth the risk."
Warriors nodded. "Can you tell us what the plan is?"
Time shook his head. "This is all I'll say: I should be back in a couple of hours. If I'm not back after three, I'm leaving you two in charge. Do what seems best."
They'd come looking for him, he knew that, but he'd leave it to them to make their own plans as to how and when. He clasped each of their shoulders and added, "Take care of the others. And keep a good eye on Sky. I hope before long you'll see an improvement."
Twilight frowned and grabbed Time's wrist as he started to step away. "Old man… you're not going to do anything stupid, are you? Like sacrifice yourself in his place?"
Time shook his head. "That's certainly not what I'm planning to do."
Warriors smiled wryly. "I don't like the way you emphasized that," he said. "But all right, keep your secrets. We'll give you three hours."
Twilight was still gripping Time's wrist, but as Time met his eye he slowly relaxed and stepped back. "Be careful," he said softly.
Time nodded. "I will," he said firmly. He shot a last glance towards where Sky lay, Wild at his side now, his eyes still open and blank. Then he turned and walked away, heading back towards the dungeon where all this had happened. He didn't know if this would work. He didn't even know if the mage would have returned to their previous haunts having driven off the intruders. He just had to try.
***
He reached the dungeon after a walk of an hour and four minutes. It had taken two and a half hours to cover the same distance with a helpless, delirious Sky, but he couldn't think about that now. The door by which they'd fled was still open, almost inviting them to return, and Time could feel the same dark aura as when they'd been there before. He let out a disgusted hiss of breath through his teeth, then took out the Ocarina of Time, clenching his fist around it. It always felt cold in his hand. He had promised himself he would never use it again.
He especially didn't want to do what he was about to try.
But he knew how awful a time loop could be. Hopefully the mage would feel the same way.
Before the memories could start to gather in earnest, he marched through the door.
"Where are you?" he demanded.
He heard someone laugh. An echo of the sound rattled around the stone room, warping and twisting into a sound like Sky's sobs.
"Show yourself!" he called. His voice didn't echo at all.
The texture of the air changed and a figure appeared in front of him, quite clear though it seemed to be made out of gray smoke. The mage smiled.
"I wondered when one of you would come back," he said. "If you're here to apologize for invading my home and beg me to release that one I cursed, get on your knees and do so. I'll listen and judge if it's to my satisfaction." He grinned. "I am enjoying myself, though, so I may ask a price. It struggles so deli-"
"I'm not here to beg for anything," Time interrupted, forcing himself to ease his enraged grip on the Ocarina. Now would be a very bad time to find out if it could break. "I can trap you as surely as you've trapped my friend and I've come to demand his release."
The mage laughed again. "Oh, how wonderful! You might even be more fun, if you'd care to offer an exchange."
As Time had told Twilight, that was not the plan. With a deep breath, he tried to ignore the ticking noise that was starting to ring softly in his ears and raised the Ocarina, playing that familiar handful of notes. The world reversed around him, the mage disappearing before his eyes, and he was whisked back to the doorway.
He walked in again.
The mage appeared, this time without laughing. He looked quizzical.
"What was that?" he asked.
"How I'm going to trap you until you release my friend." Time smiled grimly. "We're going to replay this meeting and this conversation over and over again as many times as it takes for you to release my friend."
The mage snarled. "It's mine for as long as I want to hold it!"
Time played the Song of Time again. He was pulled back to the doorway and walked in again.
"Release my friend," he said as soon as the mage appeared.
The mage hurled a bolt of something that crackled like lightning and shone like steel. It caught Time in the chest and pinned him to the wall, his vision whiting out for a moment in agony. He heard himself let out a groaning cry as if from a distance. But he retained enough strength and presence of mind to raise the Ocarina to his lips and play.
He was back at the doorway. He walked in again.
"Release my friend."
It went on and on. The mage raged and cursed. He hurled magic and stones and weapons at Time. The mouthpiece of the Ocarina was covered in blood and blood bubbled at the finger-holes as Time played it over and over again through mortal injuries.
He lost track of how many times he'd been through the loop.
He lost track of how many times he'd used his final breath to play the Song of Time.
He just kept count of the minutes and seconds that passed every time. How far he had to go back to stand at that doorway and walk through it again.
"Release my friend." His voice was hoarse. He'd repeated the words so many times they sounded like meaningless noise in his ears, but he forced them out anyway.
The mage also looked exhausted, glaring at him from eyes that now glowed red in his gray face. Suddenly he grinned. He snapped his fingers, then started to cast another spell. Time recognised it as the one he'd cast on Sky.
He'd released him and was about to curse Time instead.
The plan wasn't to offer a trade. Though he knew reversing time would also undo the removal of the curse, Time's hands flashed up again. Again he was at the door. Again he walked in.
"No trades!" he roared. "Release my friend!"
The mage tried the same thing twice more. He tried releasing Sky and then killing Time. Time reset the loop over and over again. His vision was blurring. The ticking in his ears was getting worse. He could almost see the grinning face of the moon on the ceiling of the dungeon.
He played the Song of Time again.
And again.
And again.
At last, he and the mage were staring at each other in silence once more. The red of the mage's eyes had faded again. He looked like smoke now, insubstantial. Time wondered if he could waft him away with a hand.
"My friend," he said softly, hoping it wasn't obvious that his head was pounding and he felt like he was about to faint. "Release him and go."
The mage lifted a lip in a snarl.
"And if I return to my camp and find that you've tried to trick me, I can put myself and you back to the beginning of this loop," Time added. "This will go on for eternity if you do not release him."
"I release… your friend and in exchange you end the loop and free me," said the mage reluctantly.
"Yes. So you see, we made a trade after all. Him for you."
The mage snorted. "Done," he said. He snapped his fingers, then disappeared. The dark aura faded. Time was standing alone in an empty stone room. He turned and staggered to the doorway, gasping in the clean, cool air outside, suddenly terribly dizzy. It was starting to rain.
In a moment's cold clarity, as he looked down at his fingers clutched around the Ocarina, the time added up in his head.
Five minutes as far as the rest of the world was concerned.
Four days, eight hours, seven minutes, and fifty-three seconds for him.
With that thought, he finally collapsed.
---
(No points for guessing my favourite scene in Doctor Strange)
Continued on Day 18
#febuwhump2024#febuwhumpday11#linked universe whump#lu time#my fanfic#cw: near death#cw: injury#cw: blood
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LITTLE GAME AU: A WHAT-IF STORY
Y'all remember my Little Game AU? Yeah. Me neither. Anyway, here's a Little Game story I did for an English assignment that I'm kinda proud of as it's the most words I've written.
(Song that started this stupid AU)
THE BLACK KEY:
WORD COUNT: 2,381
Here we go:
Janus's dark eyes bore into mine. Yes, I know Janus isn't his name. It's Rose, but it feels like Janus fits him more. He's two-faced; he isn't a pretty rose. He's a nightmare, a freak—a beast in the shadows, waiting and waiting for the right moment to strike, to force his way to me by his Master's side and steal the hope I desperately cling onto. I know his game. I know what he wants. But does his cold counterpart want the same? No. Or so it seems. Rose stares at me, one arm hidden behind his back. His stare makes me uneasy, so I try to ignore him and focus on Holder, who's serving me a glass of unknown purple liquid. I take a small sip from the glass, worried it's poisoned. My hold is delicate as I am weak from chasing after Warren Davis for the last few days. I'm met with the surprising taste of grapes. It's grape juice, something I haven't had since childhood. Supposedly, it's Warren's favorite. I'm not sure why Holder mentioned that about his Master to me. I didn't pry. I don't care enough about Warren to want to know what he likes and what he doesn't. Holder is better than Rose. Rose lies, and Holder tells the truth. Unfortunately, sometimes it changes. I'm not sure how to feel towards these Butler twins. I don't like them. They bring me pain and suffering.
I didn't feel like attending the feast Warren Davis set up for me today. I just didn't feel like looking at my captor and seeing him play with the ornate key, my only way to escape from this horrid mansion. He's cocky about it. Whenever I do come out to eat, which is becoming rare, he laughs, cracks jokes, and pretends we are good friends. Why would he do such a thing as no one but me, him, and his butler spies attend? I know the smiles he gives me are fake because they never reach his eyes. He makes me uncomfortable. So, here I am, in my bedroom with Rose and Holder. Rose is standing near the door, keeping his white-gloved hand on the wooden door. Warren sent them to drop off my food, and they did, as the silver tray was on my lap, but they were still around. Maybe they do like me.
"You two can, uh, go now. No need to stand around and watch me eat," I say, my voice meek. I laugh nervously. "You're both, um, dismissed," I say, trying to copy Warren to get them to leave. The two only listen to Warren's commands. They keep lingering. I look around my room, its blood-red walls a sort of comfort for me. My white candle is the only light in this grand room; its fire is dim, dying. I need to find a new one, but I'm unsure where I'll find another. I'll ask Misty, the living doll. She might know. Or I'll ask Madam Alice. Warren favors her, so he may have told her secrets about the mansion I can use to my advantage. Shadows dance on the wallpaper. They grasp each other and make themselves dip. They tango, shadowy black dresses sway. I try to eat. It's some sort of meat with vegetables and mashed potatoes. Who makes the food again? Warren? That's a very good question. The fact he pretends to care about me is sickening. This thought alone almost made me not want to eat, but I know I’ll have to. If I don't eat now, I won't be able to for days. Hell, Warren may even strap me down and force me to eat. He'd done it before when I first arrived. A mistake, it was, thinking about that day. I wish I never came. I wish I never stepped foot into this wooden prison. Now, here I am, playing hide and seek with Warren for eternity and getting fed every few days. Holder backs off, walking to his twin brother. He whispers something in Rose's ear and leaves the room. Rose comes closer. "I have something to give you, Jared," Rose said. His hand goes to his back pocket. I avert my eyes, grabbing the glass of grape juice. I sip while he searches. I almost spit out my drink when Rose pulled out a black key. What? "I, much like Holder, want to escape this place. But I and Holder can not as Master needs us." He stares at me like he always does. "So, I beg of you, please live in the outside world for us." He hands me the key. Its cool metal on my bare hand sends shivers down my spine. I shoved the key into my pocket. I'm terrified I'll lose it.
"Wha… How?" I ask.
My eyes shrink. I make my way towards him, hopping off the bed and dropping the tray onto the floor. It spills. I grab his shoulders.
"Why would you do that? He can hurt you. Won't he know?" I plead. Rose and I never had a good relationship, but the idea of someone putting their life in danger scares me. I wanted freedom. But I didn't want it to be given to me like this. I was hoping for a change of heart from Warren, even if it was hopeless. I didn't want this. Please let this be a joke, even if it's cruel. Please let this be a joke. Please let this be a joke. Please let this be a joke. Please let this be a… Please… I don't want this.
"It's okay," He admitted in a monotone voice. It's like his life isn't important to him when it is. All lives matter. His response to the idea of possibly dying is too calm. He forces my hands off his shoulders, his wavy blonde hair swaying with the movement. "It's okay." He repeated.
"No, no! It's not okay!" I yelled, not loud enough for others outside the room to hear.
"Escape tonight. I'll distract him."
He walks out, ignoring my pleas. I grab his wrist, but he keeps going. I dig my heels into the carpet and pull back, wrapping both hands around his wrist to keep him from leaving. His other hand shoots up from his side and drags my hands off him. The sound of my door shutting marked the end of our conversation.
Eight hours ago, I had that conversation with Rose. I pace around my room, worried and scared. I stop when I see the food on the floor. I forgot about that. I keep pacing. I need to stop walking as my legs burn, the embers shooting pain when I move. I'm tired. So, so tired. Another day of seeking and chasing. But my fate hangs heavy in the air. My mind is racing, moving too fast, I can't keep up with it. Will it go wrong? What will happen? I can't get over why he would do that. I don't understand, no matter how much I think it over. It's weird. I turn my head to the balcony window, the night sky a reminder of what I'll be doing. The moon shines brightly, white light blinding me. It seems Crescent is in a good mood. I look away. I can't stand it. The idea of the Moon-god being happy when I'm not irritates me. A knock on the door makes me jump. Who at this hour needs me?
I open the door to see Misty, with her long raven hair and round pink glasses. What does the maid need?
She stands tall compared to me. Her fair porcelain fingers tug on the brown, white, and gray feathers of the duster. She seems antsy. Why?
"It's time."
"What?"
"Goodbye, Jared."
"I'm sorry?"
"I'll miss you."
She walks away, leaving me with more questions than answers. It takes me a few seconds to process what she said. Warren is distracted. I need to go. Now. I look around the room. I don't have much to take since I only bought the clothes I wore when I arrived. Warren forced me to change into the suit I have now. He made me slick my hair back. I'll quickly say goodbye to Madam Alice. I dash out and shut the heavy, dark, wooden doors of my bedroom.
My footsteps thump against the crimson carpet. I search for the hall with Alice's portrait. It takes me a few more seconds to find it, these mansion halls are like a labyrinth. They all look the same, with the same potted plants, wallpaper, tables, and paintings. The walls seem to close in. I'm scared. I'm nervous. I need to go.
"Alice?"
I call out to an empty hallway. I have a feeling her painting is around here. I walk a bit and stop in front of an ornate frame. It's gold glistening. It's hard to see her. I should have brought my candle. I forgot to bring it in the heat of the moment, even if it was dying. My hand goes up to touch the frame.
"I'm not sure if you're there, Alice, but I just wanted to say goodbye, for real this time."
The silence is deafening. I keep my eyes on the painting. Madam Alice is a moving painting, but she sometimes leaves her frame. Her reason for leaving varies, but she mostly leaves because "standing alone for hours and staring at an empty hallway is boring."
"Jared?"
She finally spoke. Her head peeks from the side of her frame, curious. She looks at me through the black veil that covers her eyes. She adjusts her hat. "Why are you saying goodbye? And what do you mean 'for real this time'?"
I stand on my tippy toes and place my hand inside the frame, trying to find her hand. She helps, placing her gloved hand in mine, long fingers intertwined.
"I'm sorry, Alice, but I need to make this fast. Rose gave me the key so I could finally leave. I can finally escape." I smile. I let go of her hand and ran. She called out my name, but the call of the outside was louder.
I pass by a room, the blood-red wallpaper the only thing I recognize. The beautiful sound of a violin matches my panting, creating a bizarre symphony of instruments and humanity. I hear a tense talk when I press my ear against the door after curiosity gets the better of me: Two voices—both masculine. One voice sounds alien-like, and the other is more flamboyant and higher. Rose and Warren's voices. Rose sounds worried, contrasting with his usual confident and deceitful tone.
"Something is wrong."
"Nothing is, Master."
"The house is saying something."
"Let's go back to practicing, shall we?"
"I'm already good at it."
The violin stops.
"Yes, but you can get better."
Shuffling and rustling of fabric. Hard thuds of footsteps against the wooden floor. It creaks. Warren's footsteps match the beat of my heart. I feel something wet run down my cheek. I place my hand on my cheek and pull back. Clear liquid. Sweat. I'm nervous. I should stop, but I can't. Footsteps stop. Sound of wood meeting wood. Warren must have set the violin down somewhere. Most likely a table.
"What does that mean?"
Silence. Unease. Rose clears his throat.
"Well… you are already good at the violin, but you can get better, do you understand?"
"I think."
"So… let's pick it up and play again."
"Sure."
This conversation was weird. I was thinking about how peculiar this talk was when it hit me. This is Rose's distraction. So I ran. If Rose loses Warren's attention, I'll lose my progress and the key in my back pocket. But it turns out Rose lost his attention after I ran. Warren had gone after me without me knowing. The walls are closing in. Shadows dance. Chandeliers fire flicker. My legs are tired. So tired. I take out the key. The front door is so close, I can see it. I see the dark outside from the small glass window on the front door.
"Don't go!"
I hear from behind me. Huh? It's Warren.
"Please, I need you," He spreads his hand towards me. Tears pour from under his red glasses. This is so odd. Why is he acting like this? I can't help but feel bad.
"Jared…"
I stare at his tear-stained face. I feel dread. My head hurts. I feel the pain from behind my eyes. I raise my hand to ease the pain, but I stop. My hands go to shove the key into the hole to get out. I fumble with the key.
"Please…"
He's getting closer, and my heart pounds in my chest. My hands are shaking. Unlock. Unlock. Unlock. Unlock. Unlock. Unlock! I'm panicking. He's even closer.
"Please stay with me," He whispers. His voice is so soft. What's wrong with him?
"I don't want to die,"
That makes me stop for a moment. I look at him. He looked like a small child, terrified. His eyes are tiny. He's trembling. His gloved hand goes towards me. I'm uncomfortable. I unlocked the door and slammed it shut. I put my weight against the door, panting and taking in the fresh air I desperately needed.
I'm met with the sounds of chirping birds, a lovely harmony. My back is against the door. The door's intricate design is digging into the skin of my back, so I pull away. It's over. It's finally over.
Please don't let this be a dream…
Please tell me I won't wake up in that mansion…
Please…
Please…
Charise!
I have to see my beautiful wife. After years of being apart, I deserve to be with her. I raise the key to eye level. Ire ran through my veins, so I threw it into the murky pond. I threw my black blazer into the water. I ripped off the green bowtie from my neck and threw it onto the floor. I raised my hands to mess up my neat hair. I scream. All the years of suffering had finally caught up to me. Waterfalls meet my hands. Sorrow and pain and… relief. Finally, freedom.
I'll see you soon, Charise.
(Comments and reblogs are appreciated! Especially specific ones hee hee)
#little game au (superjail)#warren little game au#superjail#the twins superjail#jared superjail#alice superjail#the mistress superjail#story writing#writing#Spotify
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Wanting something
I didn't watch the series but I wanted to do something about Julian Kaye. I may do a second part, I'm not sure yet.
When Y/N had met Julian Kaye, she had initially thought he was going to ask her for money.
It was a little suspicious that a man like him would come and talk to a woman like her for no reason.
Then she had thought that he had lost a bet, or that he wanted to win a bet. A stupid, nasty bet.
Then, after several hours of talking and exchanging numbers, Y/N decided that he must just be strange, desperate, or with questionable taste.
In any case, Julian Kaye seemed to really like her, and for a month, it was bliss to be with him.
They saw each other at least four times a week, he treated her like a queen, listening to her, not rushing her, and not caring what others thought.
“Why would I care ?” he asked her. "I don't know them. They didn't know me, nor did they know you. They don't matter. I'm happy with you, that's the only thing that matters."
Y/N’s life wasn’t always easy. She wasn't very good with people, with social relationships. Her love life was quite empty. Her family was worried about her, and some of her colleagues made fun of her for it, saying that she was probably frigid.
With Julian, Y/N didn’t feel frigid. She felt loved, respected.
She wanted more.
On the evening that celebrated the first month of their meeting, she decided to do something special. She invited him to dinner at her place, cooking all day and they spent hours on the couch, talking, then kissing, until midnight.
Julian's cell phone then rang.
"Hmm. A month."
"Yes." she sneered, wanting to kiss him again. “A month exactly.”
“For more, you will have to make a new transfer.” he said politely, putting a finger to her mouth.
"… What ?"
"You paid for a month. I know, it's hard, but that's business. I'll let you think about it, you have my number."
He then left her alone on the sofa, totally lost.
In the end, Y/N had been right about one thing. Julian had approached her about money, but not her money.
She understood this when one of her colleagues, the worst of all, came to question her about the gigolo she and the others had hired to offer her a good time and unwind her.
According to her, it was a charitable act. He had to act like her boyfriend for a month, and Y/N might be less annoying after getting fucked good.
"I still bet it was wasted money, because you're so stuck up that you weren't going to jump on him, even if he got naked in front of you, his legs spread apart, with whipped cream on his chests. Was I right ? Did you have sex or not ?"
Y/N had never been so ashamed in her life. She locked herself in the toilet of the office to cry.
Julian's number was deleted. She didn't plan to see him again, ever.
It was by chance that they met in a bar. He had the nerve to smile at her as he raised his glass, which made her blood boil. Maybe the three drinks she had already had didn't help.
Instead of going home to save what little dignity she had left, she went to see him, hesitating between slapping him and insulting him.
"Good evening darling."
“I’m not your darling, you fucker.”
"…Excuse me ? Look, I'm sorry but the rules were clear. I have schedules to respect, I'm a professional. If you come and tell me that you're not satisfied, you told me that you chose the pace, so I followed. And if you fell in love or something stupid like that, I warned you about that too."
"Warned ? Warned ?! My lovely colleagues didn't give me the rules when they hired you, sorry ! You should be ashamed ! I thought… I should have known it was too good to be true… "
"… Wait. You didn't know ?"
He had been annoyed at first that she was angry with him, but Julian immediately calmed down when he realized that Y/N hadn't hired her. He thought she had hired her, he too had been somehow trapped.
He would never have accepted this contract if he had known.
"I sometimes get weird requests, from clients who want me to play a role. This request was simple, a romantic meeting, to play perfect boyfriend, don't talk about my job if you don't talk about it directly… Shit. Oh, Y/N, shit, I’m sorry. Really. Who are the bitches who did this ?”
Like a gentleman, he offered her a handkerchief, and he listened to her again, about her colleagues, about her relationships, gently stroking her arm to comfort her.
“Sorry…” she sobbed when she saw the time. "It's late. You have to work, I… I'll leave you be."
"No, it's okay. One day without. And a good lesson for me, I'll check my clients better the next time. I only make ladies cry if they ask me to."
This made her laugh. During their month together, Julian had made her laugh a lot. He was truly a charming man. Y/N tried not to think about it too much, telling her heart to shut up, because none of it had been true.
She did her best to forget, as the weeks passed normally. The work was painful, the others making fun of her even more than before. Their murmurs and laughter followed her everywhere. She was thinking of resigning soon.
One day at lunchtime the whispers continued, but they seemed different. She heard someone approach, putting a hand on her shoulder. Y/N sighed before turning around, expecting a colleague.
“… Julian ?”
"Hello darling." he replied, kissing her. “I came to kidnap you, we’re eating together today.”
"… Eh ?" was the smartest thing she could say.
A bit lost, she let Julian take her hand and lead her outside, to a small Italian restaurant, as if everything was perfectly normal.
He chuckled when he saw her look full of questions. He had thought a lot about what had happened, he hadn't liked that she was so hurt at all, and he wanted to teach her colleagues a little lesson.
"They think you're not good enough to seduce a guy like me ? Well, they're wrong."
“They’ll think I’m paying you.”
"Sweetheart. To pay for my services for more than a day, you must be rich or very in debt. I inquired, they contributed fourteen to pay my month's salary, it is impossible for me to be there because you give me money.”
The little game seemed to work. When Y/N returned to work, her colleagues were totally disturbed because they had seen it. They were even more disturbed when Julian came to pick her up in the evening, and when he returned again and again several times during the week.
It was a bit fun, she was willing to admit, but also difficult. Y/N tried to forget him, and that wasn't possible seeing him almost every day.
The worst part was that he also came to see her when she wasn't working, which seemed pointless. Her colleagues couldn't see them at her place. But Julien arrived with his flowers and his huge smile, taking a place on her sofa and asking her how her day was.
Y/N thought that maybe he didn't have many relationships outside of work. No friends. Nobod. Perhaps it did him good to talk with someone who didn't pay him and therefore didn't see him as a piece of meat or a product.
He told her about himself. About his past, his beginnings very young, much too young, in the industry. He talked about prison. He didn't hide anything from her, and Y/N felt that it was important, because he shouldn't talk about it often, if he ever talked about it.
It might sound crazy, but he loved his job. He would have been capable of doing anything else, but he liked to please, he liked to give pleasure to women, he liked to have a lot of money while lying by a swimming pool. He wasn't ashamed of it.
This continued for months. Y/N quit, considering when more of her horrible coworkers she could find a better job.
Julien continued to come. At her new job and at home. He also invited her to his place, where it was clear that he never invited anyone.
As they shared a bottle of champagne in front of a movie, Y/N leaned against him, a little drunk. He put his hand across her, his head against hers.
“We look like an old couple.” she joked.
"Hmm."
"It's nice. I wonder if I'll ever get that… I mean, for real."
Julian's head left hers, although his hand remained on her shoulder. Y/N felt that he was tense, that she had said something stupid, and the best thing to do would have been to say nothing, but she had been drinking, and she didn't think.
"I mean… Romantically. I'm not your type, it's okay. We're friends. It's great. I try to remember that we're just friends."
“Why do you say you’re not my type ?”
"Please…"
“You also think you’re not good enough to seduce a guy like me ?”
"I am not stupid."
“Well, you clearly kinda are.”
There were times in life when people forgot how to breathe. All that was left was the sound of their hearts pounding in their ears, and the feeling that something important was happening.
It took a little while for Y/N to remember how to breathe, and for her to slowly turn to Julian, who was still watching the movie.
“Julian…”
"No. Don't say anything. I know what you're going to say."
“What am I going to say ?”
"That you like me. But that my job is too weird for us to be together. I'm just a whore, very handsome, very nice, with money, but above all with a rotten past, a crappy apartment, the…"
"I love you."
"Stop."
Julian was not ashamed of his job, but he was aware that it closed certain doors to him, like love. A family life, a normal life. No one would want to date a gigolo. No one could talk about what he was doing. No one could trust him or be proud of him.
“Julian.” Y/N insisted. "I don't care about your work. Maybe it will be difficult, but I don't care. I love you. You told me how you started, you told me why you keep going, you're careful, you're professional. You… It doesn't matter if you don't like me, we can just be friends. But I love you, I really love you, I don't care about others. Remember ? I I don't care about anyone else."
She wasn't sure if he had meant that when he told her, but he looked at her intently, before kissing her.
When he told Lorenzo that he had found someone and wanted to change his schedule, his boss asked him if he had forgotten the rules.
But Y/N had technically never been one of his clients, not offering him a penny, so Julian declared that no, he had been very lucky to find love, someone who accepted him as he was. he was, this made his friend sigh.
“We’ll see how long this lasts.”
"Yes, we will see." Julian replied before hanging up to take Y/N in his arms, looking at her like the first day, like a man who wanted something.
He seemed satisfied when she pressed her lips against his.
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hi hi i saw your requests were open? i was wondering if i could request a scenario where reader remembers how bad she used to be treated in high school by her friends, and she comes across a report she made a long time ago to her teachers about her being bullied online for her looks and being called really vulgar names by boys, but now it’s made her indifferent to expressing emotion and she starts crying when she sees the report, so bakugou comforts her? maybe takes her out to eat? i’m so sorry if this is too much, i’m in my last year of highschool kinda sitting around the sidelines and I remembered how bad it used to be which ruined my whole day😭 have a good day/night :)
ᝰ INCLUDES ⋮ bakugo katsuki x fem! reader
— CONTENT WARNING ⋮ angst w fluff ending, bullying, past trauma, best boyfriend katsuki, use of the endearment 'pretty girl' twice (other than that its pretty much gn)
— BONUS ARYA ⋮ hello luv ! ! m so sry it took me superr long to get to ur request,,,, first n foremost i wna say that i love u so much n im always here for u,,, im so sry u had to go thru something like this, i hope this piece can make ur day a bit better ! ! also my inbox is always open if u wna talk <3
ever since you were three you’ve felt as if you were a fighter, a fighter fighting through the rough reality of being quirkless. it was not only hard mentally but also affected your school life gravelly. from being being bullied to being called vulgar words. you were from the very start a prey for this world full of predators.
however, life seemed to get better when you met your boyfriend pro hero dynamight. even though you were a quirkless nobody as per you, bakugo knew you were special. and at times he didn’t understand how someone as sweet, loving and caring as you could feel as if they were a nobody.
you’re everything and more he could’ve asked in a partner, and listening to things you went through, through-out your school life made him sick. because he knows he made someone else make the same way as people made you feel.
thinking about how he was once the predator preying on someone who he thought was a quirkless nobody.
he has changed though, bakugo katsuki is a changed man and he proves it to you on every occasion he can that he is no more a predator, he is now an alibi to protect people like you, who are bullied for something they can’t control.
and he succeeded in it. you had no longer thoughts about people who bullied you, it was a chapter in life that you had shut closed and you were finally happy in life, so so happy.
however, everyday is an up and down.
one evening while you’re boyfriend was showering you stupidly enough decided to go through some old stuff of yours. and thats when you found it, a hardcopy of the report you’d once written to your homeroom teacher in 11th grade when things had gotten really really bad for you.
your curiosity got the best of you, and even though the small voice in the back of your head begged you— it begged you to not read it, not read through the trauma you’ve faced, something you always wanted to shut down and never open again, you did it anyways.
you skimmed over the format diving straight to the main matter of the report.
i’m writing this letter to you to bring a very important issue to your attention and i’m hoping you can help me. i’m a student in your grade, along with 20 other students. as you may already know i’m quirkless and that has taken a toll on my mental health ever since i was big enough to realise what being quirkless meant. however, i’ve been continuously bullied and harassed by my fellow students. being called stuff like ‘useless’, ’stupid’, quirkless idiot’ and many other words which are extremely harsh. on many occasions my fellow classmates have told me to take my own life because im so ‘useless’.
recently my house address has been leaked by someone and i have experienced my fellow batchmates throwing stones at my window. i feel highly unsafe. it was bearable when it was just verbal abuse but now it’s getting out of hands and i’m quite literally scared for my life—
you clutched the piece of paper tightly, not wanted to read anymore. it was so painful reliving those times. it felt as if you were stuck again, stuck in the constant loop of being bullied and tortured. continuously being told to end your life.
thinking about it all restricted your breathe, it coming out in pants as tears flowed through your eyes freely.
it hurted so bad, your heart felt so fucking heavy, all these things all this trauma that you, as a 16 year old faced has affected you even when you're a grown up.
opening upto people, talking about your feeling, all of this has made it so hard for you. how indifferent you are just because you didn't have a quirk.
“babe have you seen-“ bakugo said as he came out of the shower with only his sweatpants on, though he stopped mid- sentence when he found you on the edge of bed clutching a paper in your hand and crying.
without wasting another second bakugo rushed to your side, sitting infront of you on the floor on his knees, taking the piece of paper from your hand and placing your small hands in his huge calloused ones.
“wha’s wrong pretty girl?” he asked rubbing his thumb on your palms as worry laced his feature.
sniffling you said, “’s nothin’ Important ‘suki, ’s jus’ my old report i wrote to my homeroom teacher.” bakugo’s hand moved to your face wiping away your tears
“what report sweet girl?” he asked, while his one hand stroked your cheek and the other held your hand.
you looked down, a fresh set of tears forming in your eyes, your lower lip wobbled as you sighed,”’s from back when the bullying….” you looked up at the ceiling still not meeting your boyfriend’s worried gaze,”……’s from back when the bullying got really bad, ’n i know ’s stupid cryin’ over it now but—“
bakugo stood up in a heartbeat and engulfed you in a hug, “’s not stupid baby, don’ beat yourself up, your feelin’s are valid.” he pulled back holding your face in his hands, his thumb stroking your cheek bones, “gosh i hate those fuckers, wish i coulda beat the shit outta each ’n every one of them.” he angrily said, though a softer tone still visible in his voice.
a choked chuckle left your mouth at his words, soon followed by another sniffle,”’s alright i’ve got you now.” you smiled at him hugging his waist and snuggling your neck in his broad chest.
“you w’na go out pretty girl? jus’ you ’n me out on a date? we can go wherever you want?” he whispered in your ear as he hugged you tightly letting you embrace him. bakugo placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head waiting for your answer.
“……even to the cafe you don’t like because there are so many cheesy couples?” you asked face still buried in his chest as you enjoyed the warmth that his body radiated.
“yeah, even that shitty cafe you like so much.” he grumbled, but he knew— he knew that he was more than to take you to that shit ass cafe with the cheesiest couples if it meant that you’d be happy and smiling again.
“yeah, yeah i’d love to go with you ‘suki.” you replied pulling away the slightest so you can look into his beautiful crimson eyes that brought you so much warmth.
bakugo nodded his head and gave you the softest smile, a smile only and only for you.
THNX 4 READING <3 RBS + COMMENTS APPRECIATED ໒꒰ྀི ⁰́꒳⁰̀ ꒱ྀི১
#not beta read i'll do that in da mrng#idk if i like this tho is it too rushed?#bakugo katsuki angst#bakugo katsuki fluff#bakugo katsuki smut#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo imagine#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo imagine#bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou drabble#mha imagine#bakugou angst#bakugo x you#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x gender neutral reader#bakugou imagine#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katuski#mha fanfiction#bakugo smut
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