#when is it safe to leave the bog
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In a strange turn of events, I am returning to the bog today.
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I have a question: in the lights out au, did Wally ever attacked/snap at anyone for Barnabys arm? He seems like the violent type🤔
oh no! never! he's not the violent type At All - with aus, i like to adhere to canon as much as possible, and from what i can gather... Wally is quite the pacifist!
so in this au, he's occasionally violent, but only by Necessity. out of a need to protect his friends. he doesn't enjoy it in the least, and in the early stages of the timeline, he himself got hurt quite a bit due to his hesitance to fight back / inherently peaceful nature. it takes him many years to get to the point where he attacks perceived threats on sight. it doesn't come naturally to him, and he Never looks forward to it - even when he's used to it. he avoids conflict when he can & does his best to prevent it
#and even then he attacks out of fear and again! a desire to protect his friends from All harm!#he'd Hesitate to let someone else take the arm#or straight up Won't Let Go#but he'd never snap or lash out#especially not at his beloved neighbors....#he's very gentle with them. usually#sometimes he can get a little (unintentionally) harsh when the danger level is heightened#but even that is like a 'i need to keep them safe & undamaged no matter what'#he gets stressed and scared and as a result is less Careful#like how when julie wakes up wally fully tackles her to the ground to keep her from alerting nearby threats#rambles from the bog#wh lights out au#and also wally has his Routine#and during much of it he leaves the arm at 'hq' to keep it safe#its something for him to find comfort in when he's not Doing Things#so actually i think he'd be fine handing it over to... say... Howdy before going out to do his thing#he'd probably be delighted to have someone there to make sure it's Cherished and Safe!#and if howdy/other doesnt want to give it back. well wally is Small. they can share.
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General Yandere! Jin Bubaigawara Profile
Yandere! Jin Bubaigawara x fem! reader
Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of masturbation, mentions of non-con, mentions of murder, threats, slight emotional manipulation, Jin is a creep and goes through your stuff, breaking and entering, mentions of horrible men who don't respect women (not our lovely Jin), brief mention of strip clubs, mental breaks/Jin's Splits, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 11K
DARLING PROFILE:
Perceptive
More than anything, Jin looks for a darling that can understand him.
He so desperately craves a human connection full of trust and caring, and having a darling who is able to read him like a book would be absolutely perfect.
He needs someone who is able to tell at a glance what he’s thinking – not getting bogged down by the multitudes of personalities shining through at any given time and instead seeing what the real him is feeling.
He craves someone who can offer him a sense of normalcy, someone who can make him feel like less of a freak, like less of a fuck-up, more like a real man. He grows attached to a perceptive darling quickly, feeling at ease in a way that he normally doesn’t.
They’re just perfect – he feels like he can be himself, letting himself be truly authentic and truly Jin.
It’s a luxury he’s nearly never afforded, his darling creating a safe space for him without even realizing it – something he’s beyond grateful for, and something that keeps him running back to his darling at every turn because it feels so damn good to just let himself go and not hold himself back.
It’s wonderful, and as soon as his darling displays this quality, Jin is helplessly, hopelessly hooked.
Sweet
At his core, Jin is a good person who’s made many bad mistakes.
He’s not a bad person by nature – and as a result, Jin finds himself attracted to people who are similar to him. He wants someone who is genuinely a good person – someone who is nice, sweet, someone who’s heart is generally positive and full of happiness.
And Jin particularly likes when this trait is aimed at him – compliments melt his heart. As soon as the words slip off his darling’s lips, Jin’s gaping at them, his heart racing in his chest and his face feeling hot because when was the last time he was complimented?
When was the last time someone praised him, the last time they smiled at him like that, the last time they seemed so genuinely happy to see him?
It doesn’t feel real when he first meets his darling, his interest immediately peaked because god, it really feels like they see him, like they understand him.
It’s euphoric in many ways, leaving his skin prickling in excitement and his stomach fluttering in nerves and pride.
A sweet darling is ideal for him – because even as his obsession festers and his behavior becomes more and more extreme, a darling who remains kind to him will only fuel this infatuation, only pushing him to try harder to win them over, to become more and more desperate to have them as his, just as he begins daydreaming about.
It’s just perfect for him – and he’ll do his absolute best to return the favor, complimenting his beloved as often and as honestly as he can, even if the compliments are more disturbing than flattering.
Calm
Jin needs a darling that can handle his Splits. He needs someone who is not only patient with him, but is also able to take the things he throws at them in stride, not even blinking when Jin falls into a particularly nasty split that’s got him spouting nonsense and panicking.
They need to be able to be calm and help them, assessing the situation and knowing exactly how to talk him down from the episode, to keep him breathing steadily and hold him so that he stays oriented.
He needs a darling that can handle the way his mouth doesn’t seem connected to his brain – random words spilling from his lips that sometimes embarrass him.
When a personality reveals something embarrassing that Jin did as a way to get closet to you, his darling needs to be able to calmly respond, to assess the situation and hopefully come to the conclusion that it’s not true, that there’s absolutely no way that Jin would do something so crazy and strange.
And yet, a calmer darling will be absolutely shocked when they learn that all of the things Jin had divulged without meaning to are true – all of it, down to the stolen socks and stalking to the graphic dreams and preparations of his apartment to make it seem a little more like his darling’s – a little more like them.
A calmer darling is ideal for Jin because he’s simply too excitable and tightly strung to not have a calm darling.
Oblivious
A darling that doesn’t notice the multitude of red flags in his behavior would make Jin’s life much, much easier.
A darling that is oblivious or perhaps blinded by their positive assumptions about people would work in Jin’s favor, because it would allow him to push the boundaries just a bit, just as he does without meaning to, all without having to explain the slip-ups he makes, all without having you grow scared by the way he seems to become more and more present in your life.
He needs a darling who doesn’t realize just how deeply Jin has invaded their life – so they can’t run before he manages to ensnare them, so they can’t leave him and abandon him like he’s so afraid they will.
Plus, there’s something endearing about this trait that Jin just can’t shake.
It makes him feel like a protector, making it easier to convince himself that his darling needs him to be around in order to safely function, to not be taken advantage of by some creep with bad intentions.
It makes justifying his actions much, much easier, lessening the small sense of guilt that eats away at him, lessening the insecurity that pushes him to draw back every once in a while, convinced that he’ll never be good enough for his precious lovely darling.
An oblivious darling would allow him to operate with less secrecy and fear, something that Jin is grateful for. Plus, they’re just so damn cute – cute enough to eat.
GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:
Clingy
Once Jin’s feelings for you take root, it’s over.
He’s so broken and lost, quite literally unsure of his place in the world, his purpose, himself. And so once you step into his life, with your pretty face and even prettier voice that says the nicest, most caring things to him, Jin’s reaction is nearly out of his control.
How can he not become absolutely, utterly enraptured with you when you’re so kind to him?
When you smile at him like that, all teeth and appled cheeks and this sparkle in your eye that he can tell isn’t forced, how can he not find himself swooning? How can he not be smitten with you when you look at him like he’s a person, like he’s worth something, like he has value and isn’t just a waste of space?
It’s euphoric, something that makes his pulse race and his cheeks tinge pink, and so of course he’s desperate to spend time with you, to be in your presence and soak up every ounce of you that he possibly can. In the beginning, when his feelings are freshly formed and still having some semblance of normalcy, Jin’s too shy to directly ask you to be with him.
He’ll struggle to look you in the eye, rubbing the back of his neck and letting his gaze flick to you every few seconds as he mumbles out a rushed, awkward, so um, I was uh, wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend…
It’s hard to hear and you’ll ask him to repeat himself, only furthering his embarrassment and making him wince because obviously you’re going to say no – you’re too pretty and smart and sweet for him, why would you ever say yes to a washed-up criminal like him? But before he can even get the chance to respond, he’s blurting out a let me take ya to the theater, yeah? We can get seats in the back where it’s just the two of us.
He’s mortified, immediately clasping a hand over his mouth and his eyes going wide; he didn’t mean it like that! Well, okay, maybe he did, and maybe the idea of being a dim, warm place with comfortable velvet seats and sugary drinks with his body pressed right next to yours is incredibly enticing and enough to make him salivate and pant like some fucking dog –
Except you’ll still say yes, because at this point Jin’s infatuation – while still painfully obvious – seems like just a crush. He’s awkward and flustered around you, but that’s kind of endearing and sweet, isn’t it?
A fully grown man – and one who’s seen more horrors than you can imagine – is bashful over you?
It’ll have you looking past the way that he always seems to show up at the places you frequent, that same nervous and hopeful look on his face as he scans the crowd for your familiar figure.
It’ll have you looking past the way he puts his hand on your back and keeps it there for much, much too long, never moving downwards but always staying firm, as if he’s glued to you, as if separating himself from you is physically painful.
It’ll have you looking past the way he begs you to share just one more glass of cheap booze, telling you that it’s good for you, that it’ll help you relax and destress from that job of yours that you hate.
(Plus, you look so damn cute when you’re tipsy – all clumsy and giggly, your inhibitions lowered so that you don’t notice when his gaze lingers on you for just a beat too long, when his hand skims across your thigh, when he leans in much too close and inhales much too loudly.)
You’ll write off most of Jin’s clingy behaviors with a wave of your hand and an excuse that it’s simply how he processes his trauma. And it’s true, to some extent. Except you don’t know the full extent – you don’t know how he follows you home every night, trying his best to stay quiet as he lurks in the shadows, making sure no one approaches you on your commute back to the quaint little apartment he’d give absolutely anything to share with you.
You don’t know the way he borrows small items of yours, keeping them on his ragged nightstand next to the bare mattress he sleeps on, your hair clips and toothbrushes kept as pristine and safe as he possibly can.
(He’ll pick them up with trembling fingers, scared that even simply touching something of yours will break it, yet simultaneously thrilled that he has something of yours, something of an angel’s.)
You aren’t aware of the way he fantasizes about you constantly, imagining everything from linking your pinkies together to burying his face between your legs. (And in vivid, vivid detail, too – even going so far as to mimic your voice and sit on his own hand so that it'll go numb, just like some teenage boy.)
You’ll write it off, but Jin sees this as permission to push further, to try harder, to test the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ as far as he can without you growing suspicious. He’ll pull you into hugs with higher frequency and longer times, keeping you pressed against his body while he buries his face into your neck and tries not to moan at the smell of you.
He’ll spam your phone with text after text, conveying conflicting messages that showcase just how little control over himself and his split personalities where you’re concerned.
(You’ll have to turn off your ringer permanently with him around – he will drive you insane, the buzzing noise and the obnoxious little bring making you lose your mind. He texts you day and night, your peaceful sleep interrupted with the notification of fifty unread texts from him, ranging from single sentences to near paragraphs.)
He’s not exactly subtle, and while you’ll cling to your excuse of him just being lonely and struggling to cope with his past, eventually you’ll have to realize that Jin isn’t just using you to help him work through his previous experiences – no, he wants more.
He wants you. He needs you, to a degree where his every waking thought revolves around you, and most of his dreams do, too. He’s clingy and needy and always, always demanding your attention, and eventually you’ll find yourself nearly ripping your hair out because you just can’t seem to get a moment of privacy around the blond, his eyes always watching you and his fingers always itching to reach out and touch, to press against your skin, to make sure that you’re real and present and with him.
He just needs the reassurance that you won’t leave him, that you’ll stay with him, that you’ll always be with him – you keep him from splitting after all, and how could he ever thank you?
By being your personal watchdog and eagerly completing each and every request of yours, no matter how depraved or inhumane and dehumanizing. Anything for you.
Obsessive
Tying hand in hand with his clinginess, Jin finds himself drowning in a sea of you once his feelings form. He finds himself so overwhelmed with all the warring desires in his heart – he wants to see you, his fingers twitching and itching to set his eyes on you, to be in your presence and bask in you you you.
But he also wants to spend time laying on his dingy mattress, his eyes closed as he mentally lists all of the things he loves about you, all the things that leave him breathless and blushing and reaching out towards you with trembling hands.
He wants to speak with you, to maybe make you laugh and hear that wonderful laugh of yours all because of something he said, but he’s also too afraid to instigate conversations with you because he’s worried he’ll somehow fuck up and scare you off.
(And just the mere thought of that gets him in a cold sweat, hands gripping at his blond hair and his eyes squeezing shut, lips moving like lightning as he repeats the mantra that you want him you want him you want him… Splits caused by his doubt for your feelings for him are always the worst – they last longer, they leave a more harrowing impact, and – worst of all – he’s so distracted by his feelings that he loses all awareness of his surroundings. He’s no longer aware of the vase nearby, knocking into it and sending the thing shattering against the floor, the sound and the feeling of glass shards pricking at his feet not even pulling him out of his stupor.)
He’s a mess in every meaningful way, and yet the only thing he can regularly, consistently bring himself to do is amass more and more information about you. You’re his own personal drug; one that calms him slightly, that makes him feel more whole – thinking of you is the only thing that can keep him focused, and this manifests itself in many ways.
Mainly, Jin takes to stalking you very, very early on. He’s simply too intrigued and attached to not follow you home, unwilling to let you out of his sight for even a few seconds. He’s worried for your safety, sure, because he’s sure that a sweet, lovely thing like you could never defend yourself should a villain confront you, but that’s not why he’s trailing you in the shadows like some loser, like some freak.
No – the real reason is much more depraved, sadder and more pathetic than Jin himself would like to admit. It’s really because with every moment he watches you, he learns more and more about you.
Each night that he trails you home from work, he’s learning enough things to fuel his dreams that night – you avoid sidewalks with people when it’s late at night, preferring instead to cross the street so that you won’t pass them.
(Not that he’d let anything happen to you – he’d kill whoever laid a finger on you. He’d start by punching them, getting them to the ground and sinking his fist against their cheek and jaw again and again and again, then wrap his fingers around their neck and squeeze, feeling the way they’d wheeze and choke and desperately grapple at this fingers, begging him to save their worthless life. Begging with that same voice that they could’ve been calling out lewd and inappropriate things to you in, touching him with those hands that he’s sure they would’ve used to touch you, to taint and mar your pretty skin and leave you scared and trembling and shaking and needing someone like Jin to come and rescue you –
The man would be dead before Jin knows it, his lip caught between his teeth because although killing someone doesn’t necessarily feel good, there’s something pleasant swimming in his gut because now this person will never, ever get near you again.)
He learns that you always stop to look at pretty window displays, the glittering Christmas lights and decorations making you twinkle in turn, the colors shining against your skin and clothes in a way that makes Jin swear you’re an angel, as if you’re a personal piece of heaven just for him, no matter how undeserving he may be.
He learns that you keep your spare apartment key under your welcome mat, always fishing it out before you slip into your apartment. Your apartment, which he’s visiting numerous times – enough times that if he had to, he could navigate with his eyes closed. He’s poured through every square inch of your home – digging through drawers and marveling at each little trinket he can find, no matter how mundane.
He rifled through your kitchen drawer last month, noticing with baited breath that you have a variety of spices in your cupboard – you must like your food well-seasoned. He’s not a very good cook, but for you, he could be – and all too soon images of you leaning close to him, your lashes fluttering and your eyes sultry as you eat the bit of food off his outstretched fork, making a show of swallowing and telling him that his cooking is so good Jin, you’re so wonderful for me…
He’d also found a pair of scissors, something that’d made his brows furrow in worry because although he trusts that you’re responsible, it still makes him nervous for you to have something like this laying around your house – something that could easily cut you, something that has the potential to hurt you.
He’s gone through each and every piece of silverware you own, looking at each fork and knife and gulping, his cheeks red as he thinks of the way you’ve used these pieces of metal – your lips and tongue have pressed against the material, your saliva coating the fork’s prongs, the slurping and sucking noises you make as you eat the soup off of your spoon.
He’ll gulp, looking around your empty apartment, then quickly shove the fork into his mouth, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head because although you’ve washed it, he swears the fork tastes like you – and isn’t this almost a form of an indirect kiss? Aren’t his lips touching something yours has, his tongue rubbing and caressing the prongs just as yours might have?
(The thought leaves his knees weak, his pants unbearably tight, the fork clutched tightly in his fist as he wills himself to stay strong, to keep going and not crumple to a ball in the middle of your kitchen and fuck his fist like he so desperately needs to.)
He’ll sit on your couch, his breath uneven as soon as the soft cushions rest below him, his muscles tense and tight because he’s seen you sit here, watched as you laughed and roared at some television show, your pretty body molding to the couch’s cushions, your pajamas looking so cute and adorable and sexy on you.
His hands idly run over the couch fabric, his Adam’s Apple bobbing because oh, you’ve touched this before, haven’t you? He’ll meander into your bathroom, fingering your towels and letting his tongue slip over his lips, internally debating if it’s really such a good idea, if it’s crossing a boundary, if it really wouldn’t hurt…
And soon he’s stepping into your shower, the hot water (set to the temperature he knows you like) cascading down his nude body. He’ll open each of your shower products and eagerly smell them, something like a strangled groan slipping past his lips with each smell. He’s using your hair care products, lathering himself in your body wash, using your loofah and even using your razor, just because he wants the full experience of you, to be as close to you as possible given your current absence in the apartment.
And of course he’ll be using the towel once he’s finished – your towel, the one that still smells like you and has a strand or two of your hair sitting so perfectly and neatly on it.
(Jin picks up the hairs in awe, swallowing and bringing the hair up, his tongue brushing against the strand, his teeth clenching down as he chews at it.)
He wants to touch your toothbrush (so badly that it nearly hurts), but he stops himself, deciding that he should save that honor for when you’re sharing a toothbrush, when you’re with him every morning and night.
And of course, he’s tiptoeing into your bedroom, his eyes going wide and his nostrils flaring because oh god, it smells exactly like you and he thinks he might faint because it feels like you’re really here with him, like you’re by his side and hugging him and he’s surrounded by you you you.
He’s mostly respectful – or at least, as much as a man breaking-and-entering into your apartment can be, avoiding your underwear drawers despite the voice in his head urging him to snatch a pair of panties.
(The sexy ones, you know ‘em – the lacy black ones, the ones you were thinkin’ of last night when you jerked off so many times you were shootin’ blanks.)
He’ll open your closet, whistling at the sight of all your clothes. He’ll try on as many things as he can, hoping that things will fit him, always careful to hang them back up exactly as he found them, though a small part of him hopes that you can smell him on the clothing, that you’ll be reminded of him and be comforted. He’ll sit on your bed, breath hitched as he feels the way the mattress sags under his weight, before laying down slowly.
He’d showered that morning and was suddenly thankful for it – he wouldn’t want to sully your comforter with any dirt or grime. He’ll even dare to get under the covers for a moment, letting his eyes flutter closed as he imagines laying with you, spooning you with sunlight streaming in through the window, feeling your body (nude, of course, because he sleeps nude and all couples should sleep without clothing, yes?) against his and relishing in the smell of your hair and the nape of your neck.
All the while, Jin is noticing and mentally cataloguing every little detail he can process while in your apartment – the color scheme, what photographs you have up, what decorates your walls, whether there’s dirty clothes on your floors or bed or if you’re perfectly clean. Because really, everything is important – every little scrap of knowledge he can glean about you feeds the insatiable desire he harbors for you, this uncontrollable urge to be with you at all moments of the day.
This satisfies him, for now – it’s enough for the time being to be living as your shadow, but soon he’ll want to be by your side, hearing you say his name and feeling your soft hands touching him.
And he’ll do absolutely anything you tell him – all with an eager nod and a franticness to his actions that would leave him wildly embarrassed if it was anyone other than you.
Anyone other than the woman he’s hopelessly infatuated with – the one he'd get on his knees and literally beg for, even just for a simple glance his way.
Gentle
As a general rule, Jin absolutely does not want to hurt you.
Despite his status as a villain, he’s caring and soft to almost a debilitating degree, the notion of violence often necessary but not something he actively pursues. And so, of the small list of people in this world that he cares about, he would never purposefully harm any of them – and because you sit smack at the top of that list, this sentiment is only more extreme.
He thinks of you as perfection, idolizing you in every possible way, and so to even entertain the idea of leaving any sort of physical or emotional damage to you makes Jin physically ill, a Split oncoming as his stomach heaves, his head feeling dizzy and light as panic engulfs him. He absolutely does not want to harm you or upset you in any way, and this ultimately results in Jin being a yandere who is neither harsh nor patronizing, but rather simply gentle.
He treats you like an absolute queen; though he’s in a financial position that makes legally procuring gifts for you a little trickly, Jin goes out of his way to try and provide you with everything and anything he can to make you happy.
Before kidnapping you, this looks like buying you small, simple little token gifts – a small, modest bouquet of flowers (bouquet being a stretch – more often than not it’s just a single flower that he himself plucked from the ground, keeping the flower safe and preserved on his journey to find you – searching your most frequently visited locations, of course, and tapping into the tracker he'd managed to get Skeptic to install into your confiscated phone).
It looks like him offering to treat you to dinners and lunches, always at places that are within his price range (because stealing food in front of you would be a tacky move and although he can’t keep the façade of his occupation away from you forever, he’d like you to think of him as a dignified man), with greasy tables and even greasier meals, dingy lighting and seats with duct tape holding the leather booths together.
It’s not much, but it’s all Jin can offer you – and he does so with the most heart-melting, hopeful smile, his eyes soft and this look of utter vulnerability scrawled across his face that’ll have you giving in almost immediately, agreeing to getting lunch with him despite the way that his blatant staring bothers you.
(As does the way he leans in and inhales deeply when your back is turned. You can hear the breathing, the strange gulping sound that follows, and although it makes the bad kind of shivers race up your spine, you don’t bring it up with him.)
And once he’s stolen you away, that façade of being a dignified man is up – he’s still spoiling you, even more so than before your forced captivity with him, but now he doesn’t feel that he has to pay to spoil you. Now, he can steal your favorite things – because really, anything is worth seeing your smile light up your whole face when he brings home that expensive pastry he knows you love.
(The sweet is perfectly preserved, not a single wrinkle in the pretty, ornate parchment paper it’s wrapped in, nor is any portion of the sweet itself squished. He’d paid extra care to keep everything perfectly in-tact – perfect for you, because anything less than that would be an insult to his love for you.)
He’s bringing home all sorts of movies for the two of you to watch together, his hand slowly inching to your thigh as you sit side by side on his shitty old couch, the television on but all his attention focused on trying to be subtle about showing you just how badly he needs to touch you. He’s trying his best to get your favorite foods every night, getting you a few new clothes (and some of his own – he’s got a few sweatshirts that he will be forcing you into wearing, the sight of you in his clothing making his face scarlet and his face buried in his hands, his lip caught between his teeth as he tries and fails to compose himself because god, you look so good and it looks so fucking right to see you in something of his.)
Really, while Jin knows that he can’t buy your love and acceptance of his feelings, he’s desperate for any sort of help to get you moving that way. Any aid he can enlist in helping spark and develop any sort of reciprocation of his obsession with you is eagerly used, hope springing up inside his chest that maybe, just maybe, if he can make you happy enough you’ll forget that he’s a criminal, that he’s kidnapped you, that you’ve found out about all the stalking and stealing used socks and living in your apartment while you weren’t home.
He’s hopeful that all his hard work will pay off – you’ll see him as a man who really, truly loves you, even if he doesn’t deserve you.
God, he’ll never deserve someone like you – but he’ll never stop wanting you, either.
DEALING WITH RIVALS:
In general, Jin’s jealousy stems less from a place of selfish possessiveness and more from a place of insecurity and genuine worry for your safety.
Jin is more than aware that he’s not your ideal man – he’s a criminal with deaths to his name, renting a shitty apartment he can barely afford, riddled with mental health issues stemming from his quirk, and perpetually smelling like cigarettes. He’s very aware that if you were left to your own devices, you’d never pick him – and he can’t blame you, honestly. He’s a loser, a grown man with so many voices inside his head that he can’t keep track of them, and if he were a woman as pretty, sweet, and smart as you, he’d choose someone more successful, wealthier, more stable, just better.
And so, when he sees another man interact with you, his initial thought is that this is it – you’ll like this man more than you like Jin.
Maybe he’s funnier and wittier, or maybe he’s charming and suave with his words, two things that Jin himself certainly isn’t. Maybe he’s more attractive – without a nasty scar down the center of his forehead, or maybe you prefer brunettes like him, or maybe he’s taller.
Regardless, insecurity immediately eats away at Jin, forcing him to notice all of the things that man does better than him, all of the things that could pull your attention and feelings – whatever those may be – away from Jin and instead towards this stranger.
And while he initially feels that this is true, that this is the natural course of things and it’s how it should be, the longer he watches the interaction, the less satisfied with that he becomes. He grows restless, his fingers twitching at his sides, his muscles tensing and flexing and urging him to do something, whether that’s interrupting the two of you or causing a large enough distraction to end whatever conversation you’re having. It’s nearly unbearable, an internal war raging the longer he watches on, his lips moving and all sorts of different arguments and urges slipping off his tongue.
Go interrupt them!
No, it would be wrong of me to insert myself into a conversation that I’m not a part of.
Fuck that, he wants to steal her! He wants to make her his own!
You don’t know that, you can’t claim something that extreme without any foundation to base it on!
You can see his face, you can tell he wants to fuck her – look at that, he’s practically undressing her with his eyes!
It goes back and forth, seeming to never end, until eventually Jin forces himself to turn around and walk away, the part of him that’s insecure finally winning out the longer he notices things that are simply better about this stranger. It’s torturous and makes him bit his lip so hard it draws blood, his steps labored and heavy, but it’s the right thing to do.
And if you respond to his texts later that night, Jin will know that you haven’t completely forgotten him – perhaps you’ve forgotten this stranger, though, because you’re choosing to respond to Jin’s texts, not his. And this idea makes a wobbly smile spread across Jin’s face, his thumbs typing away at his cracked phone, deleting and retyping over and over again as he tries to think of ways to keep the conversation going, wanting so very badly to keep talking to you and keep your attention on him.
However, although Jin is fairly complacent and non-confrontational when it comes to most of your interactions with other men, there are a few circumstances where he’s not nearly as controlled – that is, when Jin can tell that the man has bad intentions.
It’s one thing to see you talk with a man that clearly finds you attractive, but it’s an entirely different story when Jin can see the gun or knife glinting in the man’s pocket, or when he recognizes the man’s face as a petty criminal known for pickpocketing defenseless women. It’s in these circumstances where Jin’s face will harden up, his lips a thin, straight line as he approaches the both of you, butting his way in with an excited greeting aimed at you, his eyes cold as he stares the man down.
And frankly, most petty villains will recognize him – sure, he isn’t the most famous villain, but he’s still a member of the League, and the perpetrator will often make some excuse and scurry away, not wanting to stir up any trouble with the League over some stupid woman.
And though Jin won’t want to explain why the man fled so quickly, he’s absolutely smug that his mere presence was enough to deter the man from bothering you anymore. He’ll look at you with excited eyes, his cheeks lightly flushed, hoping and praying that you’ll compliment him, that you’ll praise him and thank him because really, you wanted the man to go away but you were too scared to do it yourself.
And maybe, just maybe, if he’s really lucky, you’ll even give him a peck on the cheek as a thanks, the feeling of your lips against his skin making his heart race, this strange half-whimper slipping from his throat because you’re so close that he can smell you, and it’s fresh and real this time – not just the residual scent of your pillow your towel.
It’s wishful thinking, but Jin likes being your guardian angel – he’s anything but an angel, really, but it makes him feel important, needed, good. Like he’s actually giving you something, instead of just taking and taking and taking.
This is wrong, and Jin knows it. He shouldn’t be here – the cute little café is a public space, sure, but there was absolutely no chance that he would’ve found himself here if he hadn’t been trailing you for the last thirty minutes.
And he’d enjoyed it – watching you walk, seeing how your hair flittered a little in the breeze, the sway of your hips (something he tried hard not to look at but still found his gaze wandering down to every few minutes, his cheeks growing pink and palm coming up to smack at his cheek).
But the moment you’d entered the café, Jin following a few steps behind, he knows something is wrong. Instead of sitting at your own table, you make a beeline to the larger wooden one by the window – the one where a man is already sitting. Jin sits at his own table, some twenty feet away, bringing a flimsy newspaper up to cover his face.
The man greets you with a smile, introducing himself, complimenting your outfit and even pushing your fucking chair in, and suddenly it becomes very apparent what’s happening.
You’re on a date. A fucking date. Jin feels his face slip, a deep frown etching its way onto his lips. It’s torture to listen to you; your voice is a little higher than usual, he notes, and something sharp wedges its way between his ribs.
You never speak to him with that kind of voice – does that mean you aren’t interested in him? Does that means you don’t like him? Don’t say stupid crap like that! Are you stupid? It’s probably true! He winces, knocking at his head with his hand as a feeble attempt to get the warring thoughts to stop.
The date goes well, as far as Jin can tell – conversation flows easily, and with every passing moment he finds himself growing more and more restless, the hopelessness beginning to take its toll. He wants to interrupt – badly, really, with every fiber of his being. But that wouldn’t be fair to you – you obviously seem to like this man, perhaps even more than you like Jin, as loathe as he is to say it, and what right does he have to take that happiness away from you?
It hurts him, yes, but if it means staying in your life and seeing you happy, even if it’s with another man, he’ll grit his teeth and not play dirty. Your happiness is top priority, after all – and as you leave the café, you and the man going your separate ways, Jin can only hope that you will not be receiving any calls or texts from the man, even as you happily give him your number. He’s still gripping his hands into tight fists, even as he begins trailing the man.
This sight is significantly less pleasant than when he follows you – he doesn’t mind looking at you, not when you’re all pretty and sweet and you seem so very innocent. But this man? Well, as he approaches a bar a few blocks away, Jin’s brow cocks up. A mid-afternoon drink seems a little strange, and as Jin steps inside the bar after the man, a small burst of pride blooms in his chest.
Because really, this is not just a bar – there’s a stage, at the far back of the establishment, with all sorts of different colored lights beaming down on the main act: a scantily clad woman leaning back on a pole, winking at a man sitting in the front row. Jin’s taken aback – surely this can’t be a good sign, right?
You didn’t need to be seeing any men who frequent strip clubs – and with the way the man immediately went up to the bar, ordering a shot and acting friendly with the bartender, Jin’s sure this isn’t the first time he’s visited.
With a smile, Jin decides that this is finally something that Jin is better at – he’s many things, sure, but he only has eyes for you and he’d never seek out the visual comforts of another woman.
And as Jin approaches the bar, ears perked up, anger brews in his gut. Yeah man, just wrapped up a date – girl’s awful, talking about her family and shit, who the hell wants to hear that? She’d look better if she just shut the fuck up.
Jin’s jaw is on the floor, rage swimming in his veins. How dare this man speak about you that way – as if you’re just some random woman, as if everything you say isn’t gospel, something worthy of being revered and paid the utmost attention to. How dare this man dismiss you like that – after you’d been so happy, after you’d thought the date had gone so well, after he’d asked for your number, for God’s sake.
And with that, Jin sinks into his jacket, closing his eyes and trying to subdue the urge to walk over and sock the guy across the face so hard that he spits out a few teeth. No, that wouldn’t accomplish anything except a few moments of satisfaction – no, Jin has to take more drastic measures, something that will ensure that you and your fragile little heart won’t be hurt by this horrible, disgusting man.
And so, as Jin slips away, it’s not so hard to send you a fake text from the man, asking if he can swing by your apartment.
And you, being flustered that your date had contacted you to fast and so eagerly of course say yes, inviting him over for dinner. Jin smiles down at the phone with a big, bashful beam, able to pretend for just a few moments that he was supposed to be the recipient of that text, that really it was him you were inviting over for a homecooked meal, then maybe a movie, then maybe you’d stay up and talk with him for hours, falling asleep in his arms and letting him hold you like he spend hours dreaming of.
(Or, if you’re feeling a bit frisky, perhaps you’d let him spread your legs and spend hours with his head trapped between them, your taste and smell clouding his senses as he brings you to your high over and over and over…)
It’s not hard to make a copy of the man, to get him at your apartment door, that same suave walk and the high cheekbones making you bashful as you open your apartment door. But then, the man sneers at you, looking you up and down just as Jin had instructed, scoffing under his breath and telling you that you’re even uglier the second time I see you. I just came by to tell you that I don’t wanna see you anymore – you’re not my type, you know? I like ‘em a little more interesting. But if you wanna fuck, I’d be more than happy to –
You slam the door in his face, chest heaving and tears pricking at your eyes, and although it nearly braks Jin’s heart, he closes his eyes and breaths deep, reminding himself that although hurting you is making every bone in his body feel brittle and about ready to snap, this is necessary.
It’s necessary because the man probably would’ve done worse if left to his own devices – if his conversation with the bar tender was any indication, you would’ve been used for your body and then unceremoniously dumped in the trash. And you deserve so, so much more than that – Jin is sure of it, and Jin can give you that if you’d just let him.
He gives you some time, sure that you’re sobbing behind the front door, and it’s only an hour or so later that he texts you (from his real number, of course) if you’d like to grab dinner. He’s equal parts nervous and ecstatic when you respond with a simple yes, already eager to get you distracted from that loser – and, perhaps, even manage to show you how much better Jin can treat you.
He's charming that night, on his best behavior, telling you all sorts of jokes and asking about things he knows you love to ramble on about, just wanting to hear your voice and watch your lips move. And soon, the guilt is totally washed away – because really, would you have ever been able to speak this freely with that man? Absolutely not. Jin may not deserve you, but at least he can treat you well – so why can’t you see that?
TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:
Jin doesn’t want to kidnap you, but he will eventually reach a point where his anxiety, paranoia and profession leave him with no other choice. He’s fully aware that his obsession with you has grown to such astronomical proportions that it’s literally controlling his life, but he doesn’t seriously entertain the notion that you’re just as deeply in love and devoted to him as he is you.
(Obviously he likes to think that you are – pleasant daydreams star you with your lips pressed against his jaw as you tell him just how much he means to you, just how badly you want him, just how much you need him, but he’s always brought back to reality with a cruel slap, Dabi barking his name or an alarm clock going off and leaving him feel empty, alone, restless for you.)
He knows that he possesses a one-sided love for you, and in the beginning of his obsession, that was enough. It was enough to simply be seen by you – to have your attention on him if only for a few seconds, your smile and warm and inviting and genuine as you spoke to him. It was enough that he was a silent admirer, watching you from the shadows of your life and eagerly anticipating your next encounter, no matter how large or small.
It was enough, until suddenly it wasn’t. Suddenly Jin needed to have more contact with you – getting your phone number had been one of the most nerve-wracking things he’d ever done, his fear of rejection so incredibly high that it made his voice a bit scratchy and he’d almost stuttered, leaving him mortified but only more enamored with you when you just laughed and gladly filled out your contact information into his phone.
And that had been enough for a time, too – he could text you, sending you photos of the sunset that he spent five minutes trying to find the perfect camera settings and angles for, just so that he could send as good of a photo to you as possible and have you be impressed.
(He’d been hoping you’d even compliment him as a response, perhaps telling him that it’s so beautiful, Jin! You’re so talented at photography! Or, in an even more idealized world, you’d tell him how beautiful the stars are and then immediately follow that up with an offer to go star gazing, to spend the evening together curled up in some remote field staring up at the sky and using each other as body heat to stay warm in the cold night air.)
But then the texting and calling wasn’t enough – soon he needed more, and that’s when the stalking began. He’d follow you to work, then immediately return to your apartment and snoop around, touching everything and picking everything up just so that there was at least some memory of him on everything you own.
And this had to be enough – this was the furthest Jin could get away with without you noticing, without you cutting him out of your life completely once you realized just how truly deranged for you he was.
But then somehow a hero finds out about you, and suddenly your position in his life is threatened, and Jin panics. He totally, utterly panics, a Split intense enough to bring tears to his eyes forcing him to rely on the one person he trusts more than any other soul on the planet: you.
He comes to you, babbling and going on about some sort of internal debate that you can’t follow, and as you try to calm him down, your words start slowly sinking into Jin’s psyche. You keep saying that you’re there, that you’ll always be there for you, I promise.
You’re pulling him into your side, a cloth bag placed over hie head while you rub at his arms and back, shushing him gently and even rocking him back and forth every so slightly. And so, as the Split slowly fades and he calms down, two things happen – one, you sigh in relief and hope that Jin has processed some of his emotions and will leave, and two, Jin hearing your words as a promise that you want him, that you need him, that you want to stay by his side for the rest of your life.
And so, in the aftermath of a horrible mental health episode, Jin decides that you’ve essentially given him permission to make sure you really are always going to be there for him, just like you said.
It’s not hard to sneak into your apartment that night, the chloroform soaked rag sitting underneath your nose in a way that made it difficult not to swoon over your adorable sleeping figure.
(Jin gulps and swallows as he stares at your limp body, his hand reaching out to very, very lightly brush his fingertips over the expanse of your clothed hip, wide eyes staring at you as if you’re some piece of art, something for him to keep and cherish and love.)
And when you wake up the morning, you’ll find yourself in a strange bedroom with a strange man who’ll spoil you rotten – even if you beg him not to, even if you say the only gift you want is to be let free.
As a captor, Jin isn’t too terrible – all those desires to spoil you and make you happy are still very much present within him even once he’s stolen you away.
In fact, if anything he’s even more desperate to get you smiling, to see you be happy and looking at him with anything other than fear and hate. Because really, after that Split that led to him kidnapping you calms down, Jin is only left with complete and utter regret – you’ll hate him now, he’s sure of it.
You’ll be afraid of him, thinking of him not as the sweet, funny, and harmless Jin you’ve come to know but instead a monster, a criminal capable of hurting you in more ways than one. And this kills him – he hates being looked at like he’s ruined your life, even if he basically has. And because of this, he decides that the only way to get you to slowly see him in a positive light again is if he makes your life with him as good as possible – if he spoils you, treats you like a queen, pampers you and cares for you with the level of devotion that you deserve.
And frankly, Jin is more than happy to give you this – he’s a worshipper through and through, already revering you like you’re something holy and in need of constant praise. He’ll outfit his dingy apartment the best that he can – there’s freshly stolen furniture in your favorite colors and fabrics, changed lightbulbs for his overhead lights work, a stocked refrigerator, a new mattress.
(Only one though, so you’ll still have to share with him – but don’t be too worried, because he won’t actively try anything without your explicit permission. At least, he won’t while he’s awake – when he’s asleep is an entirely different story, because that’s when his real desires come out, unchecked and uncontrolled as he grinds his hips against your ass, his little moans and whispers of your name as he presumably has a wet dream about you more than a little awkward to lie next to. Don’t mention it to him though, please – he can tell that his cum is staining his boxers, but he’s always hopeful that you slept through it all, that you didn’t notice the way he was probably trying to get stimulation, that you didn’t see just how depraved and desperate for intimacy he is.)
He’s getting you comfortable clothing; lots of sweatshirts and lounging pants, fuzzy socks and even a few hats for when the heating in the building goes out (as it often does).
(He really likes to see you in his clothing, of course, but Jin isn’t too terribly pushy – he’d be ecstatic if you willingly wore something of his, his face bright red and all sorts of things coming out of his mouth, but he’s really and truly pleased, a satisfied and smug feeling burrowing in his chest that’s difficult to hide. Sometimes he’ll even wear the new clothing first, making sure that it smells like him, before handing it off for you to hear, biting his lip and struggling to stay calm because god, you look so damn good in what he’d just worn, god you’re really here with him right now and looking at him and touching him and acknowledging him.)
He’ll stock up on all your favorite foods, paying special attention to making sure he has every snack under the sun. And while he does care about your health, when he’s buying you all these snacks, he’ll get absolutely anything you want, even if there’s so much sugar and such little nutritional value that it makes him nervous.
He can’t cook very well, but he’ll order takeout or swing by a restaurant and steal something for dinner, always loving the look of hunger and shy thankfulness as you bite into the meal he’s brought you, trying hard to ignore the way he’s blatantly staring at you and awaiting your approval.
And really, that’s another part of your captivity with him – the staring, the touching, the constant talking, the constant him. He’s always been clingy with you, but it’s even more so once he's got you trapped under his thumb. He always has to be looking at you, observing you and feeling like he’s a part of whatever you’re doing. He wants to see everything you’re up to – when you’re watching television, he’s watching you.
(And nervously playing with his fingers, like there’s something he wants to ask you but is afraid to, right up until he blurts it out, something crude and rude and it immediately makes him apologize, gripping at his hair a bit and telling you about how he didn’t mean it, oh man I promise I didn’t mean it!)
When you’re doing one of the puzzles he’d stolen to help keep you entertained while he was busy, he’s sitting on the other side of the table, those eyes of his glued onto your fingers as you try each piece, watching with rapt attention and marveling at how you slowly make progress, feeling smug and prideful because his girl is so smart.
When you’re stepping into the shower, you can see him out of the corner of your eye, not peeking at you but simply staring at the open doorway of the bathroom, his back facing the shower but his presence still suffocating you.
(He refuses to leave alone during showers, simply because he’s terrified that you’ll slip and fall, that you’ll crack your head open or accidentally swallow shampoo or any number of other wild, outlandish things. And, as he listens to the sound of running water, he’s hoping that one day he’ll get to join you – that one day you’ll be able to bathe together. He’ll run his fingers over your roots, massaging the shampoo into your hair slowly and deeply, your body pressed close to his as the water cascades down your back. He’ll have you lather up his body with that scented body wash you love, and maybe you’ll even draw shapes with the bubbles, press kisses to his naked chest or press yourself against him, whispering in your ear that you love him...)
Truly, Jin is not so bad – he's clingy and you’ll have absolutely no time to yourself, but he’s not too invasive. He doesn’t treat you like an incompetent child, and he at least tries to make you happy – he won’t push you into a physical relationship, not does he demean you in any purposeful way.
The only true negative with Jin (aside from your kidnapping in the first place, not to mention the stalking and hyper fixation) is that although he tries his best to control it, Splits are not pretty, and you’re always the one he comes to her help. When you’re around they happen significantly less often, his comfort level higher and his concentration wavering from his own identity crisis and instead towards you, just as his thoughts often do, but they still happen.
And when they do, he’s blindly searching for you, reaching out bleary, teary eyes and all sorts of babbles and rambles coming from his mouth, every muscle in his body tensing up as he clutches onto you, begging for you to help him, to please, please make me whole again, ‘m not sure what’s – what’s real.
And while you may hate Jin for kidnapping you, for occasionally breaking into your apartment while you’re asleep and watching you rest, for threatening others in your name, for keeping you safe and sound, you still can’t watch this. Somewhere buried inside the monster that stole you away is the Jin that you were friends with – and that’s the Jin you want to help, the one that’s driving you as you shove the paper bag down over his head, letting him engulf you in a nearly too-tight hug as he sobs and his shoulders shake.
It takes him a while to calm down, but as his grip grows tighter and he starts murmuring your name under his breath like a chant, he’ll slowly pull away, swallowing heavily and telling you that he loves you, that he needs you, that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And perhaps it’s Stockholm Syndrome, or perhaps you’ve simply gone crazy, but as time passes something about that sentiment will start becoming romantic to you, something that makes your heart race and gets your palms sweaty.
Because really, eventually you will end up playing out Jin’s fantasies – where the two of you are deeply in love, living together, sleeping together, bathing together, eating together, doing every possible thing in one another’s company because he simply can’t stomach the idea of being aware from you for any small amount of time.
It’s bliss, everything he’s ever dreamed of – and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get there, even if it means acting like your slave just to see you smile at him once a while and give him any scrap of positive affection you can muster.
Anything at all.
PUNISHMENTS:
As a general rule, Jin worships you. He finds you to be absolute perfection – you’re beautiful and caring and patient, everything wonderful and nearly too perfect to even be real. You’re certainly too perfect for a fuck-up like him – and yet he wants you, in such a primal and raw way that he can’t hope to fight it.
You’re like air to him, and because he’s grown so attached to your praise and presence in order for his mental health to stabilize for a few moments, Jin can’t stomach the thought of punishing you.
You’re supposed to be happy with him – you’re supposed to be growing to love him, something that he works hard at every day that he has you trapped with him. He gets you flowers (they’re a little wilted and old, but they’re the best he can find), little chocolates (never quite in the flavors and styles you like, but as close as he can get), and tries to keep you happy and placated by having all your favorite things in the apartment.
And so, even more than being upset that you attempted to escape or hurt yourself, Jin can’t really fathom why you’d even bother doing something worthy of a punishment in the first place – are his efforts not enough? Is it not enough for him to run himself ragged trying to think of ways to keep you happy, to show you that despite having kidnapped you, he’s not an entirely bad person?
It’s demoralizing and sends him spiraling into a state of panic and confusion, leading to particularly bad Splits that get him ripping at his hair and frantically grabbing for something, anything, to stop the episode in its tracks.
And so, punishments aren’t common at all – with a few hard exceptions that he does, with time, deem as worthy of his punishments.
(Harming yourself is a large one, as is attempting to harm Jin. Most other things are fair game, and things that he understands why you’d do. But once there’s the question of safety, Jin’s hairs are standing on edge, worry eating him alive because he absolutely cannot have you bleeding or in pain or any number of horrible things.)
You’ll never, ever be physically harmed while with him – the mere thought makes him anxious enough that he feels like he’ll hurl, the images of you bruised and battered flashing behind his eyes and making him feel on edge, anger boiling up in his chest because he absolutely will not stand for you to be harmed in any capacity, whether by another person or by himself.
And he doesn’t even really like to emotionally punish you – he’s not the best manipulator in the world, and something about purposefully warping your mind makes him feel dirty, a grimy feeling that makes his skin crawl and that he wants to avoid at all costs. But sometimes, certain infractions – especially towards the beginning of your captivity – have to be addressed, the bad behavior in you stomped out before it can really take root.
And so, Jin relies on other methods to get these points across – that is, he decides to show you just how good you have it with him by taking some of that good away.
He’ll revoke your dinner privilege for a night, or showering privileges for a few days.
He’ll forbid you from listening to music by removing all electronic players in the apartment, his phone hidden on his person (and yours having been long destroyed, even from before he laid your unconscious body out on your bed, marveling at the sight of you and oh-so-gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face).
It doesn’t feel good, you being even minorly uncomfortable in any way a difficult a difficult sight, but Jin pushes through, his personalities arguing audibly but all eventually agreeing that showing you exactly what you do have is the best method to go about making you as happy as you possibly can be with him.
Besides, there’s something inexplicably satisfying about the moment that you finally admit that you need him, that as much as you hate the hell he’s created by kidnapping you and keeping you all for himself, you must rely on him if you want to survive.
And Jin is smug – finally, you’re starting to see that he can be good, that he’s really not the monster you’ve cracked him out to be. And as soon as the punishment is over, Jin is back to the ever-loving, clingy mess that he always is, desperate to be around you and get your attention.
Jin’s hurt, more than anything, when you lunge at him and swing your fist like you’re trying to punch him.
He stops you easily, of course, but there’s something about the look in his eyes that has you shrinking back, shame withering through your body because god, how can he look so genuinely heartbroken, so genuinely betrayed?
It’s silent for a few moments as he holds your wrist in place, his mind too distracted to even focus on the feeling of physical touch that you initiated, even if the intention was less than ideal. His voice is small when he asks you what you’re doing, hurt lacing his words as he asks why are you trying to punch me? Are you mad at me? What did I do?
And in a different voice, though still somber are you on your period?
And although you have a few choice words to spit at him, all kinds of answers popping into your mind immediately, there’s just something about the way he’s slumped over, shoulders drooping and defeated, the downturn of his lips and the soulful look in his eye that have you unable to speak, the words simply not rolling off of your tongue.
Jin waits for a moment, expecting a barrage of hatred to spew from you, but nothing comes. And so, with careful fingers and slow movements, he slowly lets go of your hand, watching with careful eyes for your next move.
When you don’t swing at him again, Jin takes a step back, the action looking like it physically pains him.
It’s late, we should get to bed. It’s silent again for a moment, but then he moves towards the couch.
Listen, I don’t want to be the bad guy, but tonight you’ve gotta, uh, you’ve gotta sleep here tonight.
You look at him like he’s a little crazy, and he sends you a sorry glance, that same hurt written across his features.
You’ve gotta understand that I’m trying to do what’s best for you, I promise! I know kidnapping you was wrong, but you’re here now and we’ve gotta make the best of it.
God get over it already! It’s already been a month!
You watch with wide eyes as he grabs the blanket off of the back of the sofa, folding it over his arm and gesturing to the furniture.
Sleep here, you’ve gotta learn that hurting me isn’t okay, and neither is hurting yourself so don’t you try anything!
I’ll sleep with an eye open, you hear?
The night is long without the blanket, the apartment’s heating out again as you shiver against the material, using the mangy couch cushions as a makeshift blanket. It’s horrible, and you roll over with a sigh, sure that you’ll never manage to fall asleep in this position but fully knowing that Jin would wake up if you tried to join him in the warm bed. Shutting your eyes and sighing, you again try to drift into sleep – unaware of the way Jin lays in the bed, staring across the room at you with fully awake eyes.
Watching you struggle is torture; he wants more than anything to get up and come bundle you up in the blankets, the sound of your clattering teeth and shivering audible even from his position. But he can’t – not if he wants you to learn your lesson.
Not if he wants you to understand that you absolutely cannot be trying to instigate violence between the two of you – you’re supposed to be a loving couple, happy with one another and perfectly content to live out the rest of your days together.
A punch doesn’t exactly fit that happy dream that Jin has whipped up, and although he knows it’s far off in the future, he fully expects it to become reality one day – you’ve just got to stop fighting it so hard.
And as morning arrives and you both lie in your respective places, neither of you having slept a wink, Jin decides it was worth it. Because when you get out of bed, crawling over to him and asking with that fucking look on your face if you can use the blanket or get in with him, he’s crumbling.
You’ve never asked before – you’ve never used the word ‘please’ with him since being kidnapped, and here you were now, asking him for a favor, politely, sweetly, like you actually appreciate him.
All he can do is stare dumbly at you for a few seconds, but then he’s sputtering out a yes and scotting over, opening up the sheets to expose the beaten-up white tank top he’s sporter and the boxer shorts. Immediately you jump in, the sudden warmth feeling heavenly on your chilled bones, but Jin can only shudder, the feeling of your body so close to his driving him crazy, your smell engulfing his senses and he swears he can even taste you.
He’ll pull you close, experimentally, and when you don’t fight it he’ll let out a slow, long breath, letting his hand rest on your side lightly, almost as if he’s afraid to touch you.
Almost as if you’re not real – and by extension that this sort of fondness you seem to be developing for him isn’t real either. But God, he hopes it is.
OVERALL DANGER:
5/10
Jin is not particularly dangerous.
Mostly, he’s just incredibly and overwhelmingly needy. He’s so sure that he’s not worthy of you, that you’re much too good for him that it causes him to overcompensate, to try much too hard to get you to like him, to get you to want him.
He’s always texting you, running into you at seemingly random places and times, always talking your ear off and looking so genuinely enraptured and intrigued when you respond to him that it’ll make you a little uncomfortable, the intensity in his eyes a bit scary.
He sees you as being something genuinely divine, his idolization of you terrifying in its sheer degree. He spends every free moment trailing behind you, always living in your shadow, pretending with a dopey grin that he’s actually living out your life with you, that you’re somehow aware of him stalking you, that you actually want him to be involved in your day to day life.
(And he only feels a little pathetic about this – his love for you and his intense desire to be recognized by you too strong to bar him from having some dignity and stopping this disturbing obsession.)
He’s always trying to interact with you, becoming addicted to hearing your voice and feeling your attention on him, becoming addicted to the feeling of protecting you, of being needed. And when he eventually snaps and steals you away, Jin only becomes more needy, trying desperately to compensate for the fact that he’s kidnapped you by spoiling you with any gift he can, respecting your privacy and autonomy, trying to keep you as happy as possible given your situation.
And really, while you’ll hate him at first, betrayed beyond belief and scared of this strange new person that seems to have replaced the Jin you knew, eventually you’ll slowly come around. You’ll start to realize just how truly pathetic he is, how he can’t help himself but want you and your attention, and although you’ll hate yourself for it, some part of you will be flattered by how badly he wants you.
Some part of you will be pleased that someone desires you so much that they’ve become such a mess, that they want to please you badly enough that they’re willing to throw their pride out the window for you. You’ll feel guilty and like you’re betraying yourself, but really it’s in your best interest to not fight this new development – because really, while Jin may seem a little scatterbrained and easy to manipulate, he’ll find you if you escape.
And he’ll find you remarkably fast – and although he still won’t hurt you upon your reunion, you’ll come to find that Jin has treated you very, very well. And when that’s suddenly taken away, you’ll find yourself wishing that Jin – your Jin, the one that would steal the stars and sky for you – was back, that he was with you and telling you just how beautiful you are.
You’ll slowly learn that you need him just as badly as he needs you, now – a sentiment that makes Jin beam so brightly that it nearly hurts.
#yandere bnha#yandere mha#yandere jin bubaigawara#yandere twice#_lee's profiles#_bnha#_jin bubaigawara#twice x reader#jin bubaigawara x reader
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October Sun
summary: Simon had been on the verge of getting the fuck out of Dodge, the enormity of everything he'd found out starting to bog him down. He hadn't been able to do it alone, not anymore, not even for Maddie. Thankfully, the universe had heard him and had held out an olive branch.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.
bon reading, frens
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.11
Simon crept to his car, a tactical advance, hunched low to the ground and clinging to the shadows as far as they would take him. He was afraid, adrenaline pumping, heart pounding in his ears; he didn't want Mr. Anderson to find him sneaking around the school a second time. Not after what he and Maddie had uncovered in the supply closet.
Mr. Anderson had propelled up Simon's short list of suspects to the top spot, the cache of money a sure sign the man was up to no good. Simon didn't have a lot of experience with society's seedy underbelly, but if movies had taught him anything, it's that normal people didn't hide stacks of cash outside of their homes unless they expected a police raid.
Was Mr. Anderson a drug dealer? Some kind of kingpin moonlighting as a high school English teacher? It was the perfect disguise. Cops would never think of a man who works with teenagers capable of that level of corruption. At least, not in Split River. No matter how many problems the town had, it wasn't that degree of shitty.
Only, Mr. Anderson had seemed nervous; a man forced onto a ledge at gunpoint. Threatened. Scared.
Okay, Simon reasoned, so Mr. Anderson wasn't a high-ranking drug lord. But he was definitely on the wrong side of the law and was obviously desperate. And desperate people were unpredictable when they felt backed into a corner.
He'd claimed he'd given Maddie what sounded like had been a large sum of money. A bribe, maybe. One that, in the end, hadn't been enough to convince Mr. Anderson she wouldn't rat on him. The thought made Simon's stomach churn, bile burning the back of his throat.
Maddie had been wrecked by the discovery, hands shaking from a surge of emotion too enormous to contain. She'd held it together long enough to caution Simon not to contaminate the evidence by touching it, assuring him she'd count it after he was safely off campus.
She'd shooed him from the classroom, "You have to leave, now," eyes watery as Mr. Anderson's betrayal finally seemed to register. "I've got this, okay? Just go."
Simon had done as ordered. What good would he be if Mr. Anderson took him out next?
He peeled out of the parking lot and into the road, lightheaded as a thousand and one questions flooded his brain. His chest tightened, breathing labored, and—God, shit, he hadn't had a panic attack since middle school but, since Maddie's disappearance last Friday, they'd made a grand comeback. Kept him awake at night when there was nothing left to distract him from what could've happened to his best friend.
"Fuck." Simon rasped, smacking the steering wheel with his palm. And then, increasing in volume and intensity, "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" He beat the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn once and startling a woman walking her dog.
"Sorry!" He called, sheepish, through the open driver's side window, flashing a hand in apology. He didn't wait for a reaction, simply continued to drive home.
The thought of interacting with his parents put him on edge. He didn't know how he was supposed to stay quiet about Mr. Anderson. Noticeably off the last few days, Simon had already endured three separate lectures about drug use, depression, and sexuality respectively.
His parents' unconditional support, though amazing, made him feel like garbage—or, more accurately, a landfill—for causing them to worry to the point of draping a rainbow flag over the back of the couch and reassuring him that, "Love is love, mijo. We just want you to be happy."
Even if he could slip past his dad, his mother would undoubtedly pick up that whatever plot she suspected Simon of hiding had thickened. And, frankly, if she asked just right, Simon knew he'd crack and tell her everything. About Xavier, about Mr. Anderson...about developing The fucking Shining and assuming the role of Watson to his best friend's ghost.
Buying himself some time, Simon took turns he didn't have to; drove through random neighborhoods as he tried to think up a plausible excuse for his behavior that wouldn't result in another intervention. He didn't have it in him to watch his mother's face crumple as he lied to her again. The umpteenth time that week.
He needed to talk to someone. To get it out of himself and share the burden. His skin felt too tight and his bones too heavy and he couldn't carry the weight of Maddie's murder mystery alone.
And then, as if God had heard him, Simon's prayers were answered.
Without thinking it through, he pulled over and beeped his horn to get your attention before you turned onto the path that margined the small, neighborhood greenspace.
Clambering sideways to get out of his car, his foot caught on a pedal, seatbelt still hooked, Simon called out, "Hey!" grunting when he was knocked back into his seat by the strap. He took a second to collect himself, unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed out in a less frenzied manner.
"Uhhhmm, are you okay?" You asked, your face displaying how not okay you thought Simon was. You glanced up and down the street, puzzled, "What are you doing here? Don't you live in Cedar Bank?" A suburb on the other side of the river that bisected the town.
Simon debated whether or not it had been a good idea to stop, but he didn't think he could give you an excuse and drive away, either. He dimly sympathized with how Mr. Anderson had felt back in that classroom; splitting threads pulled through the eye of a needle.
He summoned his resolve and turned to face you, "I need to tell you something."
You cocked your head, looked Simon over, and nodded slowly. Simon could tell you were trying to determine what this was about. Realized as you walked him into the little playpark and took a seat on one of the two swings, that he'd come out of nowhere in a move that could easily be interpreted as stalkerish.
"I could give you a lift home if you wanna talk in the car?" He offered, settling into the second swing all the same. The park was deserted, dark, the glow of the streetlights falling short by a few meters.
You shook your head and hooked your thumb over your shoulder, "That's literally my backyard."
Simon followed your indication and saw the top half of an antique build, painted a deep royal purple and trimmed in evergreen, that peaked over a tall, bushy hedgerow. A wooden fence several inches shorter than your family's hedges divided the public space from private property, running the length of the park behind your house and a few others.
"Huh." Simon returned his gaze to yours, "Never mind."
"Did you talk to Nicole?" You asked, possibly thinking that that was what Simon wanted to discuss.
He fiddled with his hands, closed his eyes, and supported his head on the metal chain that held the swing up. "No." He stated honestly. He needed to tell you about Mr. Anderson. Just. Start talking. But the words kept sticking in this throat.
"Simon? You're starting to scare me, is everything okay? Is this..." You trailed off and when you spoke again, you sounded uncertain, "Is this about Maddie?"
"Kind of," Simon admitted, pressing the meat of his palms into his eyes. "Screw it," He spun the swing so he faced you completely and then simply uncorked the bottle, "I found a shit ton of money in Mr. Anderson's classroom. Like, wads of it. Probably thousands of dollars hidden in the wall in the closet."
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
What the f u u u u u u ck.
One minute you'd been on your way home, trying to parse out why the connection between you and Wally had gone dormant as soon as you'd left him, and now, there you were, listening to Simon basically tell you that he'd unmasked Mr. Anderson like a Scooby-Doo villain.
You didn't have that on your Everything is FUBAR bingo card, that's for sure.
Okay. Okay. This was...big. Huge. And, "Holy shit, maybe that's why he freaked on me in the theater," you said, mostly to yourself though you knew Simon would hear it.
"He what?"
You looked at Simon, "Earlier, I was—" Lie like a smart girl, "—looking for something Tilly forgot in the theater and he found me. But, Simon," You stood, started to pace, "He was acting paranoid like I found his dead mom à la Norman Bates. He practically threw me out of there." Which was, fine, a mild exaggeration, but Mr. Anderson's paranoia hadn't been. "I've never seen him like that. And he kept getting these phone calls that made him even more angry."
"Wait, what do you mean 'phone calls'? Did you hear anything?"
"No, just that he needed a minute. I guess to go find somewhere I wouldn't hear him."
Simon was standing now, pacing in a pattern the reverse of yours.
"He was on the phone when I saw him. Talking to someone about how he shouldn't have given Maddie money."
You felt like the sky had fallen on your head, "He gave Maddie money? Is that why she..." You'd wanted to say ran away, a kneejerk reaction borne from days of convincing yourself she'd just put Split River in the rearview. With what you knew now, you settled for, "Disappeared?"
Simon appeared to notice your choice of wording, peered at you like a math problem, but didn't mention it, instead revealing, "It's a line of inquiry."
You rubbed your temples to ease away the migraine that was building. Today had been too much; too many things unfolding one after the other: First hearing from Wally that Maddie was a ghost, and then just Wally and everything you had to unpack with that, and now Mr. Anderson's apparent criminal activity that may or may not have had a direct impact on Maddie's being a ghost in the first place.
Of course, you reminded yourself, she wasn't a ghost because, again, you couldn't see. her. Which meant that, if he was involved, Mr. Anderson had drugged her to the point of a coma and had hidden her body somewhere.
"Oh my God," You moaned dismally, "This is so f u c k e d." As the gears turned, something niggled at the back of your mind. "Simon," you ended your pacing to lift your gaze and regard Simon closely, "Why were you there?"
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
Simon knew he had to give you something, but, Jesus Christ, he was nervous. He'd already decided not to admit he could see Maddie, unable to believe that you wouldn't tell a trusted adult. And he wasn't keen on getting pumped full of antipsychotics and locked in a padded room, thanks.
You watched him, eyes hard, jaw set, more serious than he'd ever seen you, "Simon, what the hell?"
He swallowed, opting for half-truths, because he'd come this far. He needed help. A confidante. Would've preferred Nicole but she'd galivanted off with Xavier, apparently, and took the choice out of Simon's hands.
"I've been looking for clues about what happened to Maddie," Simon confessed, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "Since the search on Monday, when Xavier got arrested—"
You interrupted, fierce, loyal, "He wasn't arrested, Si. His dad was just taking him to the station to give an official statement."
"In the back seat?" Simon deadpanned.
"There's no room in the front of the cruiser!" You threw your hands up as if dealing with the situation would drive you to drink.
"With the lights on?"
"Because there was a crowd of people practically throwing themselves at the car to get Xavier's face on video."
Simon conceded and resituated himself on one of the swings. You followed his example, though, this time, you shrugged off your backpack and dropped it in the sand beside you.
"So, what do we do?" Simon wanted to know, close to getting on his knees and begging you to take the reigns on this because he was exhausted.
"Alright." You shifted to straddle your swing, hands in front of you as you counted details on your fingers. "We know that Maddie went missing on Friday. We know Xavier had nothing to do with it." Your eyes narrowed, daring Simon to comment. He didn't. "We know that Mr. Anderson is hiding money and that he gave some to Maddie. To keep her quiet?"
"That's what we-" Simon tensed, quickly undoing his mistake, "I'm thinking."
That intense look of scrutiny was back on your face and Simon resisted the urge to gulp. Three days ago Simon had figured you for the only person who'd believe him about Maddie's ghost. My how times have changed.
"If he was hiding money in his classroom, he could be hiding other things around the school, too." You rationalized. "Like the theater. I bet you anything that there's something in there he doesn't want us to find."
True. In fact, "Do you think he's hiding Maddie in there?"
"What, like, under the stage? That'd be pretty risky. And the cops went through every room in the school with search and rescue dogs and everything. Wouldn't they have found her if she was down there?"
Simon deflated, "Good point," reluctant to add that those dogs probably weren't the type trained to find cadavers.
"Right." You paused, either to organize your thoughts or analyze Simon further, he wasn't sure, but you soon continued, tone weak, "Simon, if he did have something to do with Maddie...I take back what I said before."
"About?"
You shrunk into yourself, forcing "Maddie being okay," as if the words had to be wrenched out of you. "I don't want to believe Mr. Anderson could've hurt her but." You blinked a rapid dozen times up at the sky, visibly shaken as you considered the worst, "I don't think she's okay."
A lump formed in Simon's throat. He was all too aware of the painful truth. His vision blurred, nostrils prickled, the enormity of the situation closing in on him.
"Yeah," He sniffed, "Me neither."
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
Neither you nor Simon were aware that, only ten feet away, crouched in the bushes, a figure wearing Simon's best friend's face had heard everything.
Cold.
Hungry.
And without an iota of guilt.
💀___________________________
PART TEN - PART TWELVE
note: thank you so much for reading, lovelies! i'm currently working on the next update (which is Reader/Wally-focused) and am hopeful that it'll be ready by the end of this week! so keep an eye out 👀 (@banana-lol no accidents pls 😉)
if you'd like to be kept up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS, since the taglist has malfunctioned 🙈 i'm still adding ppl to it, but i can't guarantee that it'll notify you when i update 💀
#Milo Manheim#Wally Clark#Wally Clark x Reader#fem!reader#Wally Clark smut#Wally Clark fanfiction#Milo Manheim fanfiction#School Spirits#zed necrodopolis#Disney Zombies#Simon Elroy#Kristian Flores#October Sun
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🏰Breath of the Æsir
{Loki X Fem.Reader}
Chapter 3: Stories Cannot Burn or Disappear
I am so sorry these chapters are taking me so long. I haven't been the same since Covid! I hope the quality is still good...Thank you for joining my crazy medieval AU Loki fever dream era.
There is a bit of Easter and eclipse magic wound up in this chapter!
Summary: Loki isn't the only one who thinks you are more than a human woman, which buys you time while you figure out how to keep your manor and tenants safe. However, the challenge of nursing a debilitated, power-stripped god adds a layer of complexity to your already daunting task, clouding your judgment when clarity is most needed.
Note to Reader: Yes, Hozier is now a character, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you 😭 But which character will he be? Guess and comment!
Passion and Romance Meter: Nothing explicit yet but hopefully you feel it boiling.
I hope these people don't mind being tagged! I thought you might want to be tagged! Please let me know if you don't want the tag or if you want to be tagged. Also comments and reblogs are healing and joyous for me!
@arcielee @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @thomase1 @mcufan72 @caffiend-queen @fictive-sl0th @muddyorbsblr @anukulee
@mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @sailorholly @lokisgoodgirl @shambelle97 @lokischambermaid @eleniblue @smolvenger @wheredafandomat @hiroyukinasukawa @meowmeow-motherfucker @latent-thoughts @buttercupcookies-blog @lcolumbia1988 @soulpiercing @wolfsmom1 @mysticmarvelfan
@holdmytesseract @superficialdomina @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @mjsthrillernp @arcielee @poetic-fiasco @gruftiela @thegodofnotknowing @thedistractedagglomeration @tallseaweed
@dangertoozmanykids101 @jennyggggrrr
The clay soil in your husband’s land hadn’t fully absorbed the blood of the Christian god. Not yet at least. The claustrophobic land was hemmed by bogs and marshes, lowlands with the familiar wooden gods made from branches poking out of the muddy banks. The tides to the east would fill the saturated earth till she could take no more before becoming a lake. This system of pooling respiration created a natural barrier for the people. The stillness of the water meant you didn’t stop for long, just enough time to plant your wooden god or light a beeswax candle, burn some leaves as an offering, and then find fast footing across the rickety log bridges built by people no one could remember.
In spring, a carpet of blue wood betony would appear. The town's folk's talk led you to forage it, keeping the blossoms and stems in dark Roman glass, tucked on the kitchen shelf next to the salt. Your husband never noticed your collection, or if he did, he never mentioned it as anything particular or strange. It was a relief to find plants that grew elsewhere, unlike the state of the manor land — high on a hill, flanked by rocky, sandy soil. Collecting plants often made you wonder if Christ might rise from the bogs. You'd just have to wait and see, you supposed, imagining Christ emerging naked from the thick peaty waters, stray herbs clinging to his torso.
Perhaps when Loki showed up, bleeding from his stomach, you'd envisioned something like that before. That desert man had a different name, Jesus of Nazareth. You blushed at the thought of any man, holy or common.
Yet, you didn't blush much while sewing Loki back up. Stitches plunged down his torso into places you'd only seen hinted at on the marble body of Jupiter in Eboracum. Your confident needlework proved itself. If your cheeks reddened, it wasn't from embarrassment but from lack of oxygen, struggling to breathe. Saving a life required haste, much different from the crafts of passing time.
The day the Northmen came you had been already struggling to breathe, you’d lost your air completely and found Loki’s form in front of you when your eyes finally opened again. His hair like ash from the hearth, his eyes the most peculiar color of blue, much like the betony in your waiting Roman jars. Just where had you gone when you’d lost your air? Loki had refused to confront the Danes, refused to fight them. He had handed you back his weapon, leaving you to confront the invaders yourself.
After all, you became a manor wife because your origins had burned in your village's fire, but not in the stories that followed. Stories cannot burn or disappear, especially when people fleeing tell them to the right people in the countryside. Your husband's family had heard your father's tales and believed him. Your hand in marriage was worth more than any dowry. It was all the more disappointing when you couldn't produce an heir or embroidery, and the manor lands remained sandy, rocky, and haunted. You hadn't known a husband should stay close or lie with his wife until Elinor finally told you. Your confidence to heal a stranger, to meet the Northmen at their boat, came from your father. He told you who you were, and like the manor people, you believed him — even if you didn't understand what you were.
The sky had darkened as you came to the mahogany longship anchored next to the wind-ravaged cliffs. You knew to avert your eyes from the mast, the Northern dragon guardian was designed to kill folk such as you. A provocation to your ancestors. There was confusion at their camp, what seemed like hundreds of men were pointing above and shaking their heads. A seer had cast the runes, and the chieftain seemed to not like what the seer had spoken. The rugged man looked up at the sky once more and sent what looked like an envoy to you. He blamed the Norns and you in yet another language you didn’t understand. He could not kill you because it would only curse them more.
Stunned, your trembling hands clutched Loki's blade in disbelief. You ran beneath the still darkening sky, which seemed poised for rain, though no clouds were visible. Looking up, you saw something unimaginable. A planet had fully eclipsed the sun. Your people knew of these events, but you had not witnessed one yourself. As you ran you wondered if the land's spirits had cast a powerful enough curse to scare the Northmen.
Returning home, you found only Loki in the makeshift courtyard, fever-ridden, slumped over the fence. Your heart sank, fearing he was actually dead this time. But the breath of the Æsir still moved through him, you could see his chest moving as you approached.
The village was silent, its people hiding. The only sound was the wind stirring the grain fields and the oak leaves in a dry, papery rhythm. Loki beckoned you inside but he was barely able to move to the porch, he was already worried you’d absorbed too much of the darkness. You fell into his arms, wincing from the feel of his fevered skin through your shift. Significantly taller, Loki's limbs resembled a freshly felled hawthorn. You dragged him closer to the front door, you both were exhausted in the strange day of night.
Your efforts paused for a moment, you readjusted your grip on the stranger. "Saturn is passing over the sun, an eclipse," Loki murmured, breaths faint and labored. How did he know this? Such knowledge was native only to your people. Still reeling from scaring off the Danes, you now faced an eclipse. Loki speculated on the Northmen's possible interpretation of the event. Since much of their knowledge came from his world, he felt he knew exactly what they must have felt seeing the sky darken as you approached.
"They saw the eclipse as a sign of your power. They recognize planetary transits. As you approached them, Saturn crossed the sun's path, a coincidence perhaps in your favor," Loki continued. "But they'll return, and we need to be ready," he cautioned, aware of your mutual defenselessness. He felt responsible for the deaths across these isles, seeking balance, an unfamiliar concept.
You had wanted him to stay long enough to know who he was but now it appeared like he wasn't well enough to be able to leave, even if that is what you both wanted. The truth was, part of you didn't want him to go at all. There was something about him. He knew some of the old ways and where ever he had come from, you suspected again, he had once held a high status.
Loki also continued to contemplate your shared fates. Did the Norns truly allow for this meeting between you as part of the path of the raven’s wingspan, his destiny as a god with no power. He dared to speak to you some of his true thoughts. He felt he owed you some kind of explanation for his resistance to fighting on your behalf.
“Lady, I wish I could help you but as you see I am unwell from my wounds. When I heal, I would like to help you defend your home as part of my thanks, I will find a way to do that does not involve fighting. We have the cosmos on our side it seems, so perhaps there is more luck for our coming together. This is of course if you will continue to have me.”
His pale face seemed even more ghastly, and he laid his body on the porch in a heap, looking very similar to how you first found him. You felt a tenderness stir. You’d felt it for him when you were saving him but now it was tinged with worry for both of your lives and everyone who depended on you.
“Loki I don't want to heal you twice, but it seems this is my fate. Let’s see what you have within you still and if your Gods are listening. I expect you will tell me why you refuse to fight or why you cannot. You owe me the truth. There is much you are not saying.”
He knew he would not be able to hide himself from you as you seemed unable to hide yourself from him. The circumstances unfolding seemed like the actions of reverse spells, instead of concealing they were revealing who you both were. This was vexing to you both.
Despite his sincere words to you, Loki was not sure this troubled land was his final destination. He wondered if he should try and leave as soon as he was able. He was speaking with two tongues. Perhaps he should venture south, go to the Midgard places where panther Gods and pyramids covered in gold existed. Those people were said to do the bidding of the gods with even more ferocity than the Northmen.
Instead, he was sick with fever and stuck with a mysterious, beautiful, and angry woman, whose husband could return at any moment and kill him for what it looked like was happening, even in the middle of a possible invasion. Suddenly his reverie broke as you lifted his shirt to inspect his wound. Your worry for his fever could wait no longer.
"Lady," he said as he batted your hand away.
You protested back, “I have seen you already, why would you be shy now stranger? I need to check your wound, you are feverish,” you continued to pull up his shirt. His gash had indeed become weeping and likely the source of his fever. Whether you liked it or not, you were healing him once again it seemed.
“Wood betony, that is what you need, you are lucky I have some. I’ll see to it Elinor makes you a poultice, and then I am putting you in one of the downstairs bedrooms.” Your eyes were worried even if your words were not. Loki placed his weakened hand on your shoulder, and spoke solemnly, “You know, we need to find your husband.”
You turned your face from him, you didn’t want Loki to notice even the smallest bit of feeling.
“Of course, that is a good idea, this is his manor and his people after all,” you replied. “We can leave when the fever breaks and you can walk without me carrying half your weight,” there was the slightest tinge of playfulness in your words to your surprise. You hoped he did not notice.
As the day was moving into evening, the villagers whispered their suspicions about the stranger you aided. The darkened sky had unsettled them as much as the Northmen. Loki was right, without your husband the manor would devolve into chaos and this would leave the village even more vulnerable.
You watched Loki slowly drag his body to the downstairs bedroom and close the thick doors behind him before you had the chance to redirect him or wish him a good night. You thought better to tell him that he had gone into your husband’s bedroom not the servant’s quarters you had intended for him to rest.
You felt your stomach twist in knots. If your husband came home tonight the wrong impression you worried you would make, would surely be inevitable. You would have to go and move Loki once you were done with your chores. A prospect that left you even more anxious.
Finally, when everyone had gone to sleep and Elinor had gone to her quarters, you stood alone in the empty house contemplating what you should do next. Sleep seemed an impossibility. The eclipse had only been five minutes, but it disturbed the entire day. Now it was nearly midnight and it felt like morning. All time had shifted somehow. Loki sleeping in your husband's bedroom loomed in your head.
To quiet your thoughts you found yourself in the kitchen, sometimes cooking felt relaxing even if you were not good at it. Instead tonight you eyed the row of bottles on your shelf. There was something else calling to you. You grabbed a jar of mistletoe berries, and held them in your hands. Their color was startling.
Suddenly you busying yourself muddling them with the mortar and pestle. If there was a recipe to follow you did not know it, you pulled a few more bottles off the shelf and added the ingredients. Mullein leaves and blackberry.
Pausing for a moment you felt that Loki’s knife was still around your body, you had placed it in a leather holder diagonally across your chest, and forgotten it was there. The knife passed over your breasts and you couldn’t help but touch the length of it.
You hadn't the time to have paid much attention to it before. You noticed the unusual, rich craftsmanship. The inlay was extraordinary. Garnets and chrysoprase. You then gently pulled it out of the holder and carefully pricked your finger with the impossibly sharp tip. This action surprised you.
You inhaled deeply. Crimson blood rolled down your finger and into the stone mixing bowl. You placed your still bleeding fingertip into your mouth hoping to quickly stem the bleeding, but the knife had been too sharp, or you cut yourself too deep.
Quickly, you sucked the wound, blood filling your mouth. You spat the excess into the bowl and placed it on the windowsill, intuitively sensing it needed the moonlight. Just then you heard a deep voice behind you. You were frozen in place, unable to turn around. It was Loki.
"I had no idea you were a seer, you could have told me that sooner and it would have cleared things up," his words rich with sleep and something else.
When you finally turned around you saw he was only wearing his leather trousers and the poultice. Your heart produced a wild, unfamiliar beat, and you steadied yourself against the kitchen table. You weren't a seer, but you could not explain what you were just doing or what you were now feeling.
Before you could stop him, Loki took your mixture from the sill and drank it. "My gods what have you done?" the startled words fell out of your mouth as he placed the now empty bowl back into your hands.
#loki fanfic#loki fanfiction#loki fandom#loki fluff#mcu#loki laufeyson#tom hiddleston#loki#loki smut#loki x reader#loki art#loki fan art#medieval 🏰 loki#medieval fanfic#norse paganism#norse mythology#norse pantheon#norse gods#anglo saxon#druids#loki x you#loki fanart
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Introducing Bookmark Collections
Have you ever been wading the tag for Robin/Heather and get stuck in a sea of Harringrove? Praying for an El/Max fic that's actually about them and doesn't leave them background to the boys? Searching for Robin/Vickie and simply given up because on any given page you might encounter a single fic?
Here at the Stranger Things Femslash hub, we've formed a committee to help you through these woes! Brave individuals have waded through the tags, wrangling every fic with femslash main pairings into a bookmark collection for your reading enjoyment!
The main ao3 hub for theses collections can be found here. So far, we have completed collections for 7 different femslash pairings, with an 8th in progress.
Carol/Nancy (NEW! Last updated 12/8/23)
Carol/Robin (NEW! Last updated 12/8/23)
Chrissy/Nancy (Complete, last updated 11/13/23)
Chrissy/Robin (Complete, last updated 11/8/23)
El/Max (Complete, last updated 12/5/23)
Heather/Robin (Complete, last updated 12/8/23)
Nancy/Barb (Complete, last updated 11/13/23)
Robin/Melissa (Complete, last updated 4/13/23)
Vickie/Robin (Complete, last updated 11/10/23)
Nancy/Robin ( Last updated 12/4/23)
Chrissy/Heather (Complete, last updated 11/13/23)
Joyce/Karen (Complete, last updated 11/13/23)
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The only inclusion criteria is that the ship listed be the main pairing of the fic. We do not do quality control for whether a fic is happy, good representation, ethical, well-written, a favorite of ours personally, or any similar metric. The goal of these collections is to archive every single fic written for Stranger Things Femslash pairings in a format that does not bog down the reader with a million mistagged fics that don't feature the pairing in a prominent way.
Our one exception to this everything-goes policy is that we no longer include E-rated fics posted anonymously. This is due to the fact that anonymous fics are difficult to filter out, and the inability to filter out an author of E-rated fics that you find triggering makes our community less safe. If you would like your E-rated fic included in this collection, please do not post it anonymously.
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A kiss against the shoulder!
“You’re sure that you want to do this?” Alex asked, yet again. He could hear how repetitive he was being, but he had to be sure.
Zeb turned to him, large fingers still finagling the strap on the flight uniform. Behind him, their window showed the sprawl of Chandrila. “Hera’s there, bogged down in all the bureaucracy. She could do with backup. Plus…it’s a new galaxy. If I fought to take down the old one, feels like I should pitch in on building the new one.” He’d said more or less those words to Alex a hundred times. But still, Zeb had seemed glad to leave fighting behind. Alex found it hard to imagine him back in it, even with the brand new uniform across Zeb’s broad chest making the reality of it exceptionally clear.
“Of course. I just…” Alex couldn’t finish.
“You’re just worryin’.”
“I suppose.”
“Could come with me.” Zeb said suddenly. “You can do your spy work from Adelphi Base, you know.”
Kallus smiled wryly. “I’m retired,” he replied, knowing both of them knew that for the lie it was.
“Then let an old man kick some pilots into shape. Lira San will still be there when I get back, and you can babysit it for me. I don’t trust anyone as much as you to keep it running smooth.” Zeb had finally finished getting the flight suit on. He twisted and flexed in it, testing it. “What do you think? S’been a long time since I had a new uniform.”
Alex walked up to him and smoothed out some wrinkles, repositioning the life support system and making Zeb look like a true New Republic captain. Once Zeb was fixed to his satisfaction, Alex leaned in and pressed a single kiss to the crisp, new synthcotton at Zeb’s shoulder. He willed it to keep Zeb safe. Zeb had more to give to the galaxy, Alex couldn’t argue with that. But he would miss him fiercely until they could reunite.
“I think,” Alex said after a moment, “that the suit looks very good. So good, in fact, that I’m going to have to talk you back out of it immediately.” He looked up at Zeb through his lashes. Zeb’s mouth, agape, eventually broke out into a gorgeous grin.
“Sasha, you always know just what to say.” Zeb closed his hands around Alex’s waist and lifted him bodily off the floor. Alex’s yelp turned into laughter as he was hauled towards their hotel bed, and he held on as tightly as he could while he still had Zeb beside him.
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Various! Horror Reacting to their S/O Sleeping W/ Stuffed Animals
A/n- Let me know what character's I should do for the prompt next :D
Inspired by a previous headcanon set I did! If you want to read some quick ones for Billy/Stu, Brahms & Michael -> click here
T/W for some mild language + mentions of torture !! <3
This set includes: The Sinclair Brothers, Randy Meeks + Sidney Prescott
Taglist: @strawberry-moonpies —> let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from this list <3
Sinclair Brothers
None of them really mind <33 except Bo, he's a totaly stinker abt it >:(
Bo finds it weird and he lets you know that. he is literally the lamest partner when it comes to this . . . don't let his negativity bog you down tho, hun!! his brothers are far kinder on it, you don't need Bo's stupid reaction <3333
having said all that about Bo . . . there is some redemption for him!! when he starts noticing you acting funny or a little down around him, he realizes it's his doing and he has a lot of guilt & regret about how he acted.
he'll get you a plainer looking doll, or get Vin's help to sew something up for ya. He leaves it on your side of the bed and doesn't say a word about it . . . neither should you. Be appreciative of what he did, just don't tell him that. He'll just pretend he had nothing to do with it, and get all flustered.
Bo might be kind of a dick to you about it, but if anyone that's NOT him does it?? if someone's passing by and they think they just get free range on the language they use?? oh, hell no!
he has a few tricks up his sleeves, I promise <3 (these may, or may not, include more torturous methods when dealing with guests . . .)
Lester thinks it's mighty sweet!! an' he ain't got much to judge, he knows he's a lil weird. he don't mind ur weirdness tho <33
creativity seems to run in the family, cause sometimes he'll take the animals off the road 'n he likes to skin em and make lil furs out of em. not so much taxidermy . . . he ain't got the patience for that
and i bet he would ADORE to make ya a lil somethin from those critters <3
what's better than seeing your lover all safe and cozy, cuddled up with somethin-- than when that somethin is one of your own creations??
yeah ... nothings really better than that, huh? <3
Vincent's not one to judge on such a small thing. he's spent so much time feeling like the odd one out, for mannerisms and facial deformities . . . and you're so sweet and kind hun . . .
he'd hate to upset ya, especially over something so insignificant.
it brightens his day seeing you down in his studio space with him, while you happily watch him work, while holding a floppy-eared fuzzy pal close to ur arms <333
Randy Meeks
he thinks it's a little silly but mostly endearing <3
he won't poke fun at you . . . unlike certain Scream boys (cough cough Billy n Stu... cough cough)
randy loves doing little voice impressions, and my favorite concept is him playing around with ur stuffies and making them say silly things. or sometimes, since he's a bit of a romantic, but also awkward n nerdy he'd make them say things like "i love you" <3
Sidney Prescott
Tatum still has a ton of stuffies from when she was a kid, and some of her current faves are definitely ones that Stu have gotten for her
Sidney doesn't really sleep w/ any of her stuffies, but she does keep them out on her bed sometimes or on her dresser as like, decoration.
long story short -> she honestly gets it! sleeping with a stuffy is nice, and she wants you to sleep well <3 there is nothing wrong with ur stuffies <333
after the ghostface attacks!! she tends to be more closed off to other people, sort of weary, and isn't always good with contact/touch. the two of y'all's favorite way to sleep is in the same bed, next to each other, but cuddled up with ur comfort buddies instead of holding each other :'3
#randy meeks x reader#sidney prescott x reader#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#house of wax#scream 1996#scream#randy meeks x you#randys meeks x y/n#randy meeks x s/i#randy meeks x s/o#sidney prescott x you#sidney prescott x s/o#sidney prescott x s/i#sidney prescott x y/n#vincent sinclair x you#lester sinclair#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#sidney prescott#randy meeks#headcanons#headcanon set#slashers x reader#slashers x you#slashers x y/n#reblogs are appreciated#likes are appreciated#comments are appreciated
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A (Mostly) Comprehensive List of Tumblr Holidays
I saw this post about Tumblr holidays/celebrations, and there were a ton of them, so I decided to make an organized list and their meanings. I am also adding famous "fandom holidays" to this list. Feel free to point out any I missed/explained incorrectly and I'll add them!
Tuesday:
Supernatural Tuesday --- an episode of Supernatural was about a time loop where it was always Tuesday. Can be posted on any Tuesday.
Leave the Bog --- a meme with a drawing saying "When it's safe to leave the bog" and an arrow pointing to Tuesday. Can be posted on any Tuesday.
Thursday:
Out of Touch Thursday --- a video of the cast from the anime Lucky Star dancing to the song "Out of Touch" by Hall and Oates. Can be posted on any Thursday.
Thursday the 20th --- a screencap of a rapper in The Simpsons with a gold necklace that says "Thursday the 20th". Can only be posted on Thursdays which are also the 20th of their month.
February:
Galentine's Day --- February 13th. From an episode of Parks and Rec where Leslie dedicates this day to celebrating female friendship.
March:
Pi Day --- March 14th. The first digits of pi, 3.14, line up with "March 14" or 3/14.
The Ides of March --- March 15th. The day that Julius Caesar was assassinated. Many memes and jokes are made about him, the assassination in general, or bad luck.
Evergiven/Suez Canal Anniversary --- March 23rd. Refers to an event where a ship, the Evergiven, got stuck in the Suez Canal.
94 Meetings Day --- March 31st. From an episode of Parks and Rec where April doesn't think this day exists and books all of Ron's appointments then.
April:
April Fools --- April 1st. Also a real world holiday. The most popular prank is Rickrolling.
Mishapocalypse --- April 1st. On this day, Tumblr users spam one specific photo of Misha Collins, who played Castiel on Supernatural, where he is looking at the camera wide-eyed.
Neil Banging Out the Tunes --- April 13th. Refers to a photo of a rat by a children's keyboard with the caption "Neil banging out the tunes April 13th 2006".
Homestuck Day --- April 13th. The birthday of Homestuck, a web comic. It is/was one of the most popular fandoms on Tumblr.
It's Gonna Be May --- April 30th. Comes from a GIF of Justin Timberlake singing the song "It's Gonna Be Me". In the song, he pronounces "me" like "May".
May:
Star Wars Day --- May 4th. It comes from a pun between "May the force" and "May the Fourth".
Revenge of the Fifth --- May 5th. It comes from a pun between "Revenge of the Sith" and "Revenge of the Fifth".
June:
Let Papyrus Say "Fuck" Day --- June 16th. Someone who was annoyed with mischaracterization of Papyrus from Undertale established this holiday and it caught on.
July:
Dashcon Anniversary --- July 11th. Dashcon was a poorly organized attempt to hold a Tumblr convention.
September:
21st Night of September --- September 21st. The day referenced in the catchy disco song "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire.
Frodo and Bilbo's Birthday --- September 22nd. The joint birthday of Frodo and Bilbo Baggins from The Lord of the Rings.
October:
Mean Girls Day --- October 3rd. This comes from the part of the movie where Cady's crush asks her what day it is.
Treat Yo'Self --- October 13th. From an episode of Parks and Rec where Tom and Donna have a day to pamper themselves.
November:
November 5th --- Multiple holidays. It's Guy Fawkes Day (a holiday in Great Britain where effigies are lit to celebrate the failure of a traitor), and some people post screencaps of the movie V for Vendetta, where it's mentioned. November 5th, 2020 specifically had three huge news items: rumors of Vladimir Putin's resignation, Destiel (a ship from Supernatural) becoming (one-sided) canon, and the controversy over counting electoral votes in the U.S. election.
Life Day --- November 17. The equivalent of Christmas in Star Wars.
December:
Christmas Adam --- December 23rd. It comes from a Tumblr post making a pun on "eve" and "Eve" (from the Bible). As the original Tumblr post describes, it "comes before Christmas Eve and is generally unsatisfying".
Almost Christmas (Means It Wasn't Christmas) --- 11:59 P.M. on December 24th. This is from Ace Attorney, a video game where you're a defense lawyer. The fact that it's not quite Christmas is a crucial piece of evidence in one of the cases.
DL-6 --- Christmas/late December. This is when one of the most famous cases from Ace Attorney (mentioned above) occurs.
Other:
Annoy Squidward Day --- either January or February 15th. This refers to an episode of Spongebob where Mr. Krabs votes for Employee of the Month; a screen cap shows Spongebob pointing to the 15th day on the calendar with a sticker of Squidward on it.
Fuck this Post and Happy Birthday [Fictional Character] --- any character's birthday. The original Tumblr post starts out with a user saying "People who celebrate fictional character birthdays are annoying, pass it on", and another retorts with "FUCK this post and happy birthday, Sonic". "Sonic" can be replaced with a character of your choice.
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To Call You Mine
Chapter 6
Authors note: Enjoy this special extra long fluffy chapter 💖
Warnings: talk of domestic abuse/sa/trauma
Word count: 4321 Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist TCYM Masterlist
“Good news, nothing is broken. You're being discharged and are free to leave.”
Despite being interrupted you are glad to hear that, “Oh good. Well, thank you”
“No problem dear.” She says as she nods and sees herself back out of your room
“Well, I’m glad you get to go home. Hospitals are never fun to stay at.” Yelena tells you with a smile, “Oh sestra(sister), weren’t you saying something?”
Natasha attempts to give her sister a glare but it quickly fades away when she sees you turn to look at her, “Yeah Nat, what were you saying?”
“Oh...uh…well..” she stutters and she hopes her blush isn’t noticeable, “You see, I’m staying at a motel out near Yelenas for now, so Bruce can’t find me and well, I uh…”
“O moy Bog. Vykladyvay, pozhaluysta.(Oh my god. Spit it out, please)” Yelena whispers with a roll of her eyes
Now Natasha is sure she's as red as her hair, “It’s just me and Dima there and…I’m afraid to be alone. Would you mind coming over there with me and staying? Just for a few nights?”
You smile softly at her, “Of course. I don’t want you to have to worry about Dimas safety or your own.”
“Come on then.” Yelena says, “You can drop me off at home and then head to the motel.”
You nod and stand from the bed, only to catch the attention of the small pup in the Betas arms. He coos at you and gives you grabby hands which makes you and Yelena chuckle.
“No malyutka(little one)” Natasha tells him, “Stay with Auntie Lena, or let Mama hold you.”
You shake your head, “It's fine Nat. I can hold him.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want him to accidentally hurt one of your injuries.” she says as the three of you make your way out of your hospital room and into the hall
“I’m sure, give him here.” you say, holding out your arms.
Yelena passes you the boy and as you bring him to your chest he wraps his little arms around your neck. You smile down at him as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and gently rub soothing circles on his back as he settles into you. Natasha smiles wide at the sight, she's sure her heart is about to burst with how much love she feels for you. She's so glad her pup seems to like your company as much as she does.
Wanda smiles as she sees Nat practically giving you heart eyes and she and Yelena share a knowing look before she's looking back at you, “Y/n, did you get cleared to leave?”
You nod, “Yeah, nothings broken.”
“Shame Bruce can’t say the same” Vision says as he tries his best to hide the smirk that breaks out on his face
Yelena smiles, “Oh? Is that so?”
Wanda nods, “Carol texted us. Apparently Y/n broke his nose, fractured his jaw, cracked three of his ribs, split his lip open, and gave him a concussion.”
You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at the news, “Well, I’m glad my injuries weren’t as bad. Still, I kinda wish I broke his neck too.”
Yelena laughs as she pats you on the back, “True he deserved more, but good job.”
Your small group starts to walk down the hall, heading for the exit. Instinctively you end up walking next to the other Alpha, Vision, as Wanda falls in line behind Yelena and next to Natasha.
“Hey Vis, would you mind driving my car back to my place? I’m going to go with Nat to where she's staying and I’d hate for Bruce to bother you again thinking I’m still there.”
He looks back at Wanda briefly before nodding, “Sure. I’ll just have Wanda follow me in our car.”
“Thanks”
He shakes his head, “Thank you, Y/n. I don’t know if Bruce would have tried to hurt Wanda but in his state I wouldn’t have put it past him so thank you for keeping her safe until I could make it downstairs.”
“Of course, Wanda's my friend too and I’d be damned if he was gonna hurt her.”
Back with the Omegas, Wanda giddily shakes Natashas arm, “She's going to be staying with you?!”
“Shhh” the Russian scolds, “It's only for a few days.”
“Natasha, I swear to god you better tell her how you feel” she rasps out in a harsh whisper, “Because if you don’t, you might lose her.”
She looks at you then, watching the way that you carefully handle her pup. You've always been so sweet and attentive with him. Similarly you were always kind to her. Protective, helpful, caring. Truly there could be no better Alpha for her than you, and she just knows that you'd be a great parent.
Her chest warms with the thought of being claimed by you, being able to claim you in turn. Being able to mate with you and getting to bear your pups. She wonders if that's something you want too. If she's the Omega you want to claim as a mate. She certainly hopes so.
But then she thinks on Wanda's words, and her heart twists. Her eyes fill with sadness as she watches you. She remembers Sharon checking on you, and your upcoming date with her. Was the blonde who you really wanted as your mate? Did you ever even imagine a future with her, like she did with you?
“Nat?” Wanda questions
“It’s funny really. I can’t lose her to another Omega, that just might break me.” She admits solemnly, “But she might not even feel that way about me.”
Wanda's hand grabs her own and she squeezes softly, “Oh Nat. I really don’t think that's possible. Based on what I’ve seen over the years, since highschool really, the two of you are crazy about each other.”
“Really? That long?” Natasha asks, feeling hope flutter inside her once more
Wanda smiles and nods, “Oh yes. I think before Bruce did those deplorable things to you, that she was so close to telling you about those feelings. But then, well, she thought you chose a different Alpha.”
“I would never. Could never. She's it for me Wans.” she admits
“I know that dorogoy(sweetheart), but she doesn't. Poor thing was so upset by seeing his mark on your neck that night at dinner. Vis said she practically left in tears, mumbling some excuse as to why she had to leave. I mean, she never even noticed how miserable you were with him because of how distant she became afterwards. Not only with you but with our friend group in general.”
Her brows furrow, “She did that? Since Bruce hardly let me go anywhere I thought…I thought she just got busy with work and he figured out her schedule so we went when she couldn’t.”
Wanda shakes her head, “No honey. The only time he confronted her about anything was when you became with pup. I don’t know what was said as I was too far away, but he had his finger in her face and she looked angry.”
“Then she does care about me.” Natasha says as if in disbelief, “Or, at least she did back then…”
“She still does Nat, trust me.” Wanda tells her, causing an excited smile to shine on Natashas face as you all approach the hospitals exit
The three of you say your goodbyes to Wanda and Vision and walk over to Natashas car. You hand Dima back to his Aunt so she can strap him into his carseat, and she hands you the keys. You hop in the driver's seat as Natasha gets into the passenger seat. She briefly looks at you, admiring the way the setting sun shines around your profile. The closing of a car door brings her back to her senses and she turns around in time to see her sister climb in.
Once you know everyone is in and buckled up you start the car and pull out of the hospital's parking lot, heading towards Yelena's apartment. And about twenty minutes later you pull up in front of her building.
“Thanks for the ride Y/n.” Yelena says, patting you on the shoulder, “Take good care of my sestra(sister)”
“No problem Lena. And don’t worry, I will.”
Because you were facing the blond you miss the subtle blush that adorns the redheads cheeks, but her sister doesn't miss it. She smiles before patting her shoulder, “Call me if you need anything, ok?”
Natasha nods, “I will. Thank you sestra(sister), YA lyublyu vas(I love you)”
“YA tozhe tebya lyublyu. I ty luchshe skazhi yey ob etom.(I love you too. And you better tell her that as well.)” she tells her before turning to her nephew, “I love you too little man”
She hops out of the car, waving at you both before making her way up the flight of stairs. It takes her a moment to unlock her door before she moves inside. You wait a few more seconds to be sure everything is alright before pulling away.
The ride to the motel has the car in a comfortable silence, except for when Natasha offers you directions there. Eventually you pull into the parking lot and she instructs you on where to park. She quickly gets Dima from the backseat before she leads you to her room, number 84.
You follow her inside and make sure to double lock the door behind you. You stand near the bed and watch her as she tentatively places a nearly asleep Dima into a small corner nest built specifically for pups. He quietly coos, before settling down, clutching his stuffie close to him. She smiles before kissing him on the forehead and then she makes her way back over to you.
She nervously plays with her fingers, “Uhm, this room has only one bed, so I can make myself a nest and sleep there tonight if you'd prefer.”
“It's fine Nat, we can share the bed.” you say with a shake of your head, “Not like we haven’t done so before. Yeah it's been a few years, but we’ll be alright.”
She smiles fondly and nods, a bit of excitement growing in her at the aspect of having you so close, “We always had so much fun sleeping over at Wandas. I always wondered why Vision and Bruce always seemed so jealous of Carol, Jen and you. I guess we know why now.”
At the mention of the unhinged Alpha, your eyes carefully scan her face, and you can feel anger building in you. You gently let your thumb trace along her bruised jaw line and split lip, “Would he hurt you alot?”
She nods, “I didn’t like listening to him or his rules. I didn’t act how he wanted, I wasn’t submissive and I fought back. I didn’t show him love or affection like he wanted. I refused to claim him. He didn’t like any of that. When I didn’t act how he deemed an Omega should, it made him feel inadequate. He didn’t want me as a mate, he wanted to control me, and it made him angry that I wouldn’t just willingly comply. So he took that anger out on me.”
You frown, and wrap your arms around her protectively. She sighs as she rests against you. She feels safe in your embrace, protected and loved. She wants nothing more than to stay like this, to have you hold her and never let go. You rub soothing circles on her back, a silent way to relax her so she can continue to tell you about what she endured if she wished.
“It…it wasn’t always by hitting me. Sometimes he’d pull my hair, push me, shout at me, belittle me, call me names, force me into a more submissive position, or keep me from leaving the house. But yesterday…yesterday was different. He did most of those things, but he also threatened me.”
The rage you feel upon learning how he treated her is indescribable. She's so amazing and lovable and he was out here making her miserable and treating her like she was nothing. If Carol hadn’t had him arrested you’d march yourself over to his house and break his face with a hammer.
Not wanting to frighten her, you bite back a growl, “What did he say, Nat?”
“He…he said he was going to force me to carry his pup again, and that if I didn’t claim him then he’d never let me see Wanda again.” she admits, letting her tears fall freely
This time you do growl, but thankfully it doesn’t frighten her, “I should have killed the bastard.”
Suddenly the pup whines, and thinking you woke him, your attention immediately moves to him. Natashas doesn't, as she is familiar with the sound and she knows it means he's just dreaming. But as you look away from her to glance at the sleeping pup, her eyes fall upon your many bandages and guilt swims within her stomach once more.
Your focus is removed from Dima when Natashas hand softly touches your shoulder and as you look at her, her worried green eyes stare back, “How badly did he hurt you?”
“It's nothing, really Nat.” you try, but her eyes bore into yours. You sigh, “Well I’m covered in more glas cuts than I can count. My left hand has a small fracture, he split my eyebrow open, he dislocated my nose, and dislocated my shoulder.”
Her brows furrow, “I’m so sorry. This was all my fault.”
Her breath hitches as your one hand strokes her cheek, “This wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong, Nat.”
“It is my fault.” she replies, shaking her head, “He knows how I feel about you, that's why he went after you.”
“You…you have feelings for me?” you ask, wide eyed and dumbfounded. She nods, “What kind of feelings?”
It’s now or never she decides, and she can’t live with never knowing, “I… I uhm…” She swallows harshly as she squeezes her own fingers to keep her anxiety at bay, “I want you, Alpha.”
Her words come out as merely a whisper, but you hear them loud and clear. And though happiness fills you, so does your guilt. You don’t feel worthy of her. Not after making her go through all of Bruce's torment alone. You failed her and so she got hurt by Bruce, how were you worthy to care for her, to protect her, to love her? She notices your hesitancy and her anxiety only grows.
“Please Alpha. I can be a good Omega, I promise, I can. I can be good for you. I can behave.” she begs, tears building in her eyes
Anger builds in you once more as you realize this is something Bruce has taught her, or rather forced upon her. You silently think about how good it would feel to take a baseball bat to his nice shiny new sports car before taking it to his shins, then his head.
You gently brush a tear from her cheek, “You are a good Omega, Natasha. No matter what you do, as long as you're just being yourself, you're a good Omega. Always.”
“Please, Y/n…please don’t go on that date with Sharon.” she pleads, grasping onto your hand as if her life depended on it, “Please, just stay here. Stay with me instead.”
Her lip quivers as more tears fall, she still hasn’t heard what she had hoped for and she's full of fear that you’ll reject her. You can read her anxiety like an open book and it makes you feel terrible. You can’t stand to see her so upset, especially when you know it's been your doing. So, you swallow your doubt and decide action, not words, is the way to go.
You gently grab her chin, moving her to face you. Her eyes anxiously scan your face for any sign of your reaction, but all she sees is you. Suddenly, your lips meet hers in the softest kiss she's ever had, and she eagerly kisses you back. As your hands cup her face, she wraps her arms around your neck. She never wants this kiss to end, it's better than anything she could have imagined. It's perfect.
You pull away from her lips for air and she can’t help but whine at the loss of contact, and her hold on your neck tightness slightly as if she's afraid to let you go. You chuckle at her cuteness before resting your forehead against hers.
“You're the Omega I want. Not Sharon. It’s always been you.”
At your admission she can’t help the tears of happiness that slide down her cheeks. She quickly engulfs you in a hug, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck so she can freely breathe in your scent. She's always loved it, it's like the forest after it rains with a hint of leather. Without hesitation your strong arms wrap around her, and she softly squeals when you pick her up. Her legs wrap around your torso as you carry her to the bed, pulling the blankets back before you sit down gently, allowing her to stay in your lap as you pull the blankets around you both to cuddle.
Once settled, she pulls away from your neck, and pure adoration shines in her eyes before she surges forward to kiss you again. Her hands rest on your shoulders as yours land on her waist, pulling her closer to you. Now that she knows what your touch is like she can’t help but let her thoughts wander. What would your hands feel like on her bare skin? What would they feel like on her thighs, hips, ass, or breasts?
Reluctantly she pulls away from you, panting lightly as she catches her breath. You smile at her and her heart flutters at the sight. There's so much adoration and love in your eyes, and now she knows it's all reserved for her. She wraps her arms back around you in a sweet embrace, resting her head against your shoulder as she does so. You return her embrace, softly threading your fingers through her hair and you smile as she begins to purr for you.
“It’s always been you, too. I love you, Y/n.” she finally admits as happiness fills her
“I love you too Natasha, so much.”
She hugs you a little tighter, settling into your hold. Still, as comfortable as she is, as a mother she has to ask, “You're ok with me keeping Dima, right? I know he's not yours, but I love him so much. I could never be without him. I couldn’t bear to let Bruce raise him.”
“Of course Natty. I would never turn him away. I love him just like I love you. I’m honored that you trust me with him, and I would be honored to help you raise him.”
She beams at the new nickname and her heart swells at your admission, she knows that for you to help raise him it means you intend on claiming her and she couldn’t be happier. Her pup is sound asleep and safe in his little nest and she's cuddled up with you, her loving Alpha. Nothing could compare to this feeling, except maybe the feeling that is sure to come over her when she receives your mark.
“You really are the best Alpha.” she tells you, kissing you once more, “I can’t wait to fully be yours.”
You chuckle, “Neither can I. Maybe tomorrow we can convince Lena to spend a day with her nephew, hm?”
Her heart races. Could she really be with you as soon as tomorrow after all these years of waiting and wanting? She nods enthusiastically, “I’ll call her.”
In her excitement she fumbles to remove herself from your embrace, so you help her turn around in your lap. You smile as she leans back against your chest, purring as she dials her sister's number.
“Is everything ok?” Yelena quickly asks as she answers
“Mhm, everything is absolutely perfect.” she replies
Yelena chuckles at her sister's blissful tone, “Oh? And why is that?”
Her eyes glance back at you before she replies, “Ona menya lyubit! Ona khochet byt' moyey, i ona khochet pretendovat' na menya! Ona dazhe rada pomoch' mne vyrastit' Dimu!(She loves me! She wants to be mine and she wants to claim me! She's even excited to help me raise Dima!)”
“YES!” Yelena shouts, doing a small dance, thankful that no one can see her, “Oh that is wonderful news! I’m very proud of you for finally telling her! I'm so glad you finally get to be happy. I'm so glad you got your Alpha.”
Natasha smiles wide, “I’m really glad too! So, uhm, do you think you can watch Dima tomorrow?”
Yelena smiles, knowing her sister is blushing at asking this question, “Yes, of course. I would be more than happy to watch him so you can be with your Alpha.”
Natashas smile gets impossibly wider, “Thank you so much sestra(sister)!
She laughs, “It’s no problem at all, you know I love you both. Whatever you need I’m here.”
“I love you too, and I know. You know I’m always here for you too.”
“I know sestra(sister). Now go be with your Alpha.” she says with a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As she hangs up you snake your arms around her waist, pulling her flush against you. Her purr returns as you rest your chin on her shoulder, and her eyes flutter as you nuzzle against her scent gland. You slowly breathe in her honey and raspberry scent before placing a gentle kiss on the area. She hums as you settle back into nuzzle against her and she swears her heart might burst from how full of love she feels.
She hasn’t been this happy in so long, she can only imagine the way Wanda would react- oh my god she has to tell Wanda! She quickly pulls her phone back out and opens up her texts.
Nat: You were right. Thanks for pushing me past my anxiety.
Wans: Wait!! Does this mean what I think it does?!
Nat: Y/ns my Alpha ❤️ We make it official tomorrow.
She can practically hear the way the Sokovian is screaming in excitement right now. Poor Vision, he probably got so startled and confused. Or maybe not, maybe he just expects that sort of thing from her by now.
Wans: Congrats dorogoy(sweetheart)! I’m so excited for you!
Nat: Thanks Wans, I’m excited too! Never been happier honestly.
Wans: I’m glad, you deserve happiness and I just know you’ll be happy together
Wans: Now stop texting me and be with your Alpha. We’ll talk later.
Nat: Talk later Wans. And thanks again, I owe you. And Yelena.
The smile Natasha wears as she turns back around in your lap to face you is something you know you’ll treasure. You’e never seen it so bright, not even before Bruce. Sure you've seen her smile and be happy, but this was different. And it warms your heart to know it's because of you.
“Wandas happy for us.” she tells you, brushing a hair behind your ear
You hum, “Oh I’m sure she is. She had been harassing me for quite some time back in college about this. About us.”
“Really?”
“Yup” you confirm with a nod, “I really thought I messed it up by not listening to her back then. I thought I lost you.”
Her eyes soften, “Never. I’m yours. Only yours.”
You smile as you lay back in the bed, allowing her to practically curl up on your chest, “I’m yours too, Natty. And I promise, I’ll never treat you like he did. I’ll take good care of you and Dima.”
She relishes in the warm feeling that has once again overtaken her at your admission and she cups your face, “And I’ll take good care of you, my Alpha.”
You smile and kiss the tip of her nose as, “I know you will. You have such a kind and caring nature, my Omega. Dima is a very lucky pup to have you as his mama”
She nervously chews her lip, “Maybe, once we get settled together, we can have more lucky pups?”
Your eyes widen at her implication, “You really want to have my pups?”
“Of course I do, Alpha. I want to have a family together, wanna give Dima some siblings.” she admits before chewing on her lip nervously, “Do you want that too?”
“Yes” you quickly nod, knowing you’d put one in her right now if that's what she wanted and if Dima wasn’t in the corner, “I’d love that Natty, to have our own little pack. Just imagine Dima waddling about as your belly grows with pup, we’d be in our own house with a yard big enough for a playground. Our bedroom would have a special area specifically for your nest as well as a bed for us. Our little ones could sleep, curled up with us until they get bigger. Would you like that?”
She nods, purring as she listens to you dream about your future together, “I’d love that. All it needs to be perfect is a cat.”
You chuckle, kissing the top of her head, “Then I will absolutely buy you one, Omega.”
She smiles, enamored with how devoted to her you already are, and she of course was the same way with you, “I love you”
“I love you too. Now let's get some rest, ok?”
She sleepily nods, cuddling into you as she holds you tightly and you hold her tightly in return, “Goodnight Y/n.”
“Goodnight, Natty.”
Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @marvelwomen-simp @wannabe-fic-reader @naslt @lattayhottay16 @yelenabelov-ed @thatonebrazilian
#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#omega!nat#omega!natasha romanoff#marvel#fanfic#marvel fanfiction
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Monster Spotlight: Rorkoun
CR 6
Neutral Evil Huge Aberration
Adventure Path: Kingmaker: Rivers Run Red, pg. 86-87
These absolutely bizarre aberrations slither through the lightless waterways and endless, inky depths of the Darklands, making their homes in tight crevasses no creature of their size should be able to fit in and emerging to gorge themselves on whatever creature may pass by. Able to cram themselves into tiny cracks thanks to their boneless, semiliquid body, victims may not even realize one's there until its teeth are already closing around them!
When discovered in cavern waterways closer to the surface, Rorkoun are typically found nesting in pools or bogs near the hideouts of goblinoids and mite/mitflits, because their alien intellect registers two facts: they cannot stand the flavor of goblins and mitflits, but both of those creatures often bring in what the Rorkoun truly enjoy: the (say it with me now) flesh of sapient humanoids. While normally these creatures are opportunistic ambush predators, Rorkoun fill a strange niche in the Darklands: that of the guardian to small raider tribes. Not out of loyalty, but because goblins and mitflits both love to antagonize nearby civilizations, which invites reprisal from those civilizations, and that reprisal comes in the form of delicious morsels the Rorkoun truly enjoys to feed on; any actual guarding it does is purely incidental. While goblins often believe the twisted abominations to be protector beasts that guard them from the retribution of dwarves, drow, and other Darklands denizens, their fanatic belief often blinds them to the fact that the Rorkoun only ever attack invaders until it manages to grab onto a morsel or two and dive back into the waters to enjoy its meal, leaving the rest to do as they will.
Rorkoun strike like the snakes they just barely resemble, lashing their lengthy bodies from their watery homes in the hopes of Grabbing onto a target and either constricting them to death or pulling them into the water to drown. They have a 15ft space and a 15ft reach, making shorelines in the Darklands even more precarious than they already were, and their strength and size can spell doom for single targets that get grabbed by their bite or their coiling slam attack. The bite of one of these creatures deals 2d6+7 damage, the slam 2d6+3, and both of them Grab anything they hit. Anything that can't break the grapple takes an additional 2d6+7 damage each round from constriction, but the primary danger is being dragged into the water and swiftly drowned; even breaking free of the grapple doesn't end the danger, because most creatures pulled underwater--especially ones which rely on bludgeoning weapons--have their offensive options drop to nearly zero. It's difficult to fight back or gain any meaningful distance before the horror just grabs them again next round!
If you think you're safe taking to the air or being able to walk on water, they have a disgusting way around that, too, by horking up Gobs of their horrid mass at targets within 30ft as ranged touch attacks. Anything hit by a Gob takes 1d6 damage from the impact and must succeed a DC 19 Reflex save or become entangled in the slime, plummeting to the ground if they're in the air, sinking if they're swimming, and becoming stuck in place if they're on solid earth. This technique is especially dangerous when aimed at foes already engaging goblins and gremlins alike, as being entangled usually assures a swift and horrible demise by countless thrusting spears and cutting daggers. Mercifully, any amount of Acid damage destroys a Gob completely and utterly, allowing Wizards with Acid Splash to free themselves and their allies without risking too many resources, and Rorkoun themselves have a Vulnerability to Acid that means bringing acid flasks and Acid Arrow into the depths is a good move.
Rorkoun are incentivized to use their slime as a support projectile, as tribes of goblins near their homes will usually throw such victims into the water for them to feed upon like a sacrifice. Without other monsters helping them kill creatures that were gobbed up, any creature that gets outside of their reach and stays out is typically safe. "Stay away from the water" is the surest way to avoid having to get into combat at all with these things, and while not always feasible, taking the battle away from the shoreline assures no third party attacks will leap from the depths to assault the party. The threat posed by these tentacle monsters is immense, but the Rorkoun need this massive threat radius because of a crippling weakness: Aquatic Dependency. Their lives swiftly end if they spend even a single round without their space intersecting a source of water, their bodies painfully and "violently" dehydrating the second they're not drawing water into themselves. They take 1 point of damage the first round they're not touching the water, then 2 the next, 3 the one after, then 4, 5, 6, so on and so forth until they either slip their body back into the water or die horribly. The process is stated to be so painful that Rorkoun will only bear it if they're literally on the verge of starving to death, and otherwise will never risk leaving the water for any reason or any length of time.
Before we wrap up, let's talk quickly about something unusual and unique about them: Deathwatch. This ability isn't listed anywhere in their Special Abilities block, nor is it a Universal Monster Ability, and it's not listed under constant spell-likes as it technically should. I'd consider this a printing error if it weren't for the fact that Deathwatch as a spell exists, and it's a fairly useful spell for something that's an opportunistic ambush predator: It allows the Rorkoun to constantly assess the health states of living creatures around it, letting it know which one to focus its wrath on as the easiest target, and how to avoid hidden Undead, unappetizing Constructs, or creatures who are too full of vigor for it to bother with. It's a 30ft cone, which also allows the Rorkoun to track prey in complete darkness, prey which is invisible or hard to spot, or sense when something (perhaps even something wounded) walks or swims past its hiding spot so it can spring out like a snake in a peanut can.
You can read more about them here.
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Danny and Jazz get adopted by Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, and Waylon Jones after the Fenton Adults accidentally forget about their kids after a science convention in Gotham. Jazz is ten and Danny is six, this uses your version of young Danny in which he can safely eat anything.
Danny and Jazz develop differently in Gotham with a loving trio of parents to guide them through life in Gotham, the Batfamily cannot comprehend how to kids raised by three supervillians can be so normal (by Gotham's twisted standards).
Also for this idea Harley is married to both Pamela and Waylon which is fully legal in the court of law, Harley is the glue that ultimately keeps their family unit together.
KILLER CROC! KILLER CROC! KILLER CR- *somebody slaps me*
Whoo! Ok, sorry, he's such a fun villain. Here we go!
It was less Harley, Waylon, and Pamela adopting them and more Jazz and Danny adopting the trio.
Danny pretty much latched onto Waylon. Literally. With teeth. Waylon thought it was hilarious, brought the gremlin home, and bam! another kid was riding on his back the whole time and he didn't notice.
At first, they try to find their parents, but the kids don't want to leave. As in 'causing potentially deadly shenanigans' don't want to leave.
And you know what? They can respect that. Waylon falls first. Not only are these kids Not Afraid of him, the little biter won't leave him alone. He shares Waylon's food (people don't like to get within 5 feet of a guy named Killer Croc when he's eating for a Reason), and he somehow accidentally starts teaching Danny how to hunt in the sewers and abandoned buildings.
(Does Danny get a taste for human flesh in this? Probably.)
Jazz likes the human mind, she's insatiably curious, and so she gets the nickname of Harley's little duckling. (Changes to Red Swan or something badass later, but she keeps the goose/swan/duck in her name because those are Scary Birds) (ooh or maybe The Cassowary)
Danny gets a nickname too. Maybe Gator-Bog or something?
More under the cut!
Despite Waylon's insistence that Danny is adopted, they all believe he's his biological son because they have witnessed Danny: bite the Joker's nose off when he got too close, eat a sewer rat, nearly bite Tim's fingers off (luckily he was wearing heavy gloves), hiss like a creachur, and he also sets off Damian's 'dangerous animal let me pet it' alarms.
Danny can eat everything because he's contaminated by ectoplasm, so there's also the reflecting eyes, sharp teeth, and weird strength.
Batman returns Danny to his 'dad' at least once a month. Keeping Danny out of Shenanigans is pretty much a full time job, so he's a lot less of a frequent bat-villain lately.
Jazz, meanwhile, seems perfectly normal. This leads to the batfam kidnapping her at least once a month for several years. Hilariously, when Danny is cleaned up, he gets confused for Damian until he opens his mouth leading to multiple accidental kidnappings.
By the time the Fentons find Danny, the batfam is just cackling. "That kid? Go ahead, pick him up. Just count your fingers after."
By the time they find Jazz, the batfam is no longer laughing because they had some weird ghost netting that managed to hold Gator-Boy.
At some point, Constantine arrives and continuously tries to persuade everyone that Danny is a ghost.
Damian is the least kidnapped member of the batfam, despite being the youngest, because kidnappers have accidentally mistaken Danny for Damian before. The ones who managed to keep their lives (Waylon is never happy about people kidnapped either of his kids), and their fingers/noses/ears (Danny has and will happily rip a kidnappers face off) spread the rumor.
When Danny actually, finally dies and becomes a halfa, because ghosts look like how they see themselves, he turns into a ghostly version of Killer Croc.
Hilariously, everyone STILL believes Constantine is wrong. That's no ghost. Clearly, that's a were-crocodile.
Danny is still a hero! Sort of. He takes a bite out of crime- literally.
Vlad tries to kidnap him. It does Not Go Well. For Vlad. Danny, Pamela, Jazz, Harley, and Waylon have a great time.
"That's a ghost!" "Yes, Constantine, Plasmius is a ghost, we know." "Danny is too!" "Leave sleeping were-gators lie, honestly"
Damian and Danny regularly blame hijinks on the other. "Damian, who beat an abusive zoo owner nearly to death?' " Gator-boy, most likely." "Danny, who rescued 200 people from Mr. Freeze?" "I heard that one of the Wayne kids was there."
OR
Alternatively for Vlad: realizes the Fentons abandoned their kids like they abandoned him and becomes the weird, slightly concerning uncle. Teaches Danny all about being a halfa, but also has cloned him.
"You cloned my son?!" "It was an accident!" "There are 4 clones!!!!" "Oops?"
Constantine breaks down into tears because there's now 6 ghosts in Gotham, and nobody believes him about 5.
Danny, the were-gator. David the were-skeleton. Don the were-Frankenstein, Michael the were-dinosaur, and of course Dani the were-shark.
Vlad's 'children' go trick or treating as sheet ghosts to Constantine's house every year because it's always hilarious.
#danny phantom#inthememetime#danny phantom au#vlad masters#jack fenton#maddie fenton#waylon jones#killer croc#poison ivy#pamela isley#harley quinn#dp x dc#constantine#batfam#ask answered#come ask me things
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Something Reckless ❙ ES Breakdown x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+
Word count: 2200+
Warnings: Smut ( oral and touching ) and robot x human. NSFW 18+.
Notes: Yet another robot x human. This got way out of hand but I have no regrets. I'm in love with Breakdown. I think he's charming. Might consider a part II later. Thanks to anon for sending in request. Enjoy ❤️
I accept Coffee! ☕🥰
Well, not the smartest idea, but you did it anyway. A storm had hit Witwicky and you drove to the Malto's to make sure they were alright, only for your car to get bogged and you ran the rest of the way in the pouring rain and icy wind.
It only got worse when you did arrive and no one was home, however Breakdown was settled in the barn and bunker. After the events with Mandroid, both autobots and decepticons tried to work together and fix the space bridge back to cybertron, which of course was going to take time.
Bumblebee and Breakdown were friends, brothers, and the Malto's offered him to stay which he accepted.
You knew him because you used to work for GHOST. You somehow started talking with Breakdown from his cell, and that’s how you both got to know each other.
You always suspected something wasn’t right within GHOST but by the time you were going to expose the truth all hell broke loose, but you managed to helped the decepticons escape and the terrans to defeat mandroid.
Breakdown kept you safe, helped you even in return. You grew to like him, perhaps a little more than you should've but this you never revealed to anyone.
Now here you were, soaking wet, freezing and stuck. At least you had shelter and company, could've been much worse.
"Thank you, Breakdown. I really shouldn't have driven in this weather. I'm not having the best day at all." You could only let out a soft laugh as you entered the barn and head into the bunker with Breakdown tailing behind.
"It's alright. Guess Dot forgot to tell you she was taking the family away on some weekend thing. Bumblebee did invite me but not my sort of thing."
"I can only hope this storm isn't affecting their weekend." You let out a shaky breath before looking down at yourself. "Shit. I think Dot keeps some clothes in the bunker, in case of an emergency. I need to warm up. You sure you don't mind the company?" You check, not wanting to be a burden to him.
"Nah, I enjoy your company. You're alright."
You beam softly, feeling flattered as you get some dry clothes out for yourself. "I'm nothing special."
"I think you're a pretty special lady." Breakdown chuckles lightly.
This causes you to blush a little. He's called you many things before, including that, but it just hit you differently today.
From the moment you became cell buddies he's been kind to you. He was nothing like the other decepticons. What made you all so different?
"You're very kind, Breakdown." You say before you start to undress.
Breakdown saw what you is doing and couldn't tear his optics away. He watches as you skimmed out of your wet jeans, kicking them across the floor, leaving you in a tight fitting black thong before you unbuttoned your sloping wet blouse that clung to your skin, shrugging it off and tossing that towards the jeans.
You casually hummed and let out a soft sigh as you shivered from the cold, but knew once you dried yourself off and got the dry clothes on you will feel better. The silence in the bunker suddenly comes to your attention and looks over at Breakdown, noticing he is staring at you.
Another realisation. You stand there in your undergarments, wet from the rain, without privacy, not even stopping to think that this would bother Breakdown.
"Oh...shit. I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You feel a little stupid as you turn yourself around, forgetting you were wearing a thong.
"You didn't. I mean...sorry, I didn't mean to stare." He tells you, optics lining over your ass, unable to pry his optics off from you.
"I'm so stupid." You felt like slapping yourself.
"Y/N, hey, you're not stupid." Breakdown tries to tell you as he shifts closer. "I mean, for a human, you have a fascinating figure. I've been thinking about you a lot, and having reckless thoughts."
Hearing this got you to turn your head to face him, realising he was much closer now. His amber optics were so alluring.
"What kind of reckless thoughts?" You ask, nerves building up in you a little. Yeah, you've had thoughts too, but surely he isn't having the same thoughts as you, right?
Breakdown tries to find the right words. "Scrap. Putting me on the spot hey? Well, I like you, Y/N."
"I...I like you too, Breakdown." You say back, turning a little more in front of him. Does he feel the same about you as you do for him? "What are you thinking now?"
"I'm thinking I want to be closer to you, but I don't want to scare you. My thoughts...they're wild, maybe dangerous."
"I thought you liked danger." You can't help but smirk softly as you start stepping closer. "What's got you worried?"
"I'm worried you'll run for the hills once I open up. Bee said I should just talk to you but it's not that easy. I've never been good at expressing myself."
So he's talked to Bumblebee about whatever was going on with himself. You thought that was good, knowing that he trusted Bumblebee and you did as well.
"Then don't express or talk. Just do it." You hear yourself say that with a small shrug.
He stares at you, optics warning. "That sounds reckless."
"I thought you already were. What's stopping you?" You step even closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him against your cold skin.
"I don't want to hurt you." This confession got you to reach out to him and touch his servo under your palm.
"You could never hurt me. I trust you."
Breakdown likes the feel of you touching his servo, distracting him a little, but he hears what you said and that's what got him doing something, definitely reckless.
Gently, he scoops you up under his servo and brings you close to his chassis. You held onto his digit, staring at him curiously, wondering what his next move might be.
He walks over to where he had been recharging in the bunker, his own setup, and sat down with his back pressed against the wall while keeping you in his servo and close against him.
It is you that touches his face, hand sliding across his bright orange cheek plating, and you smile warmly seeing him lean into your touch with his optics closed, a low groan leaving him.
"Y/N, I fear there won't be any going back after this, whatever happens now." He warns you once more.
"I don't want to go back." You admit, and that finally did it.
He brought you closer to his face and leaned forward, pressing his lips against your own. Because of your size difference he was gentle, tender, as his large lips moved across your own.
The kiss broke apart though, making you look at him a little confused when you noticed his hesitancy. "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?"
"Nah, it's not that, it's just...scrap. I'm going to admit that back on cybertron I was popular with the femmes," You can't help but snort a soft giggle making him chuckle lightly. "I know my way around femmes, but not humans. I'm just not familiar with what you like."
You understood that. Of course he wouldn't know.
"That's fine. It's not like I know my way around cybertronians either. We'll both learn as we go, right? Here, I'll start."
Casually you remove your bra, unhooking it and letting it drop below. His optics widen a little at your breasts, not something he wasn’t used to seeing at all.
Guiding him, you lead his digit towards one breast and press your chest against him, the padding across his digit brushing against your sensitive skin.
"Feels soft." You hear him say. "Delicate."
"Yeah, they are, but they can be fun to touch." You giggle lightly before biting your lips as your nipples perk out under his touches.
Breakdown seemed fascinated by your breasts, and he is being so careful to not push into your skin too hard. Tough out in the field, gentle when being intimate.
"Can I try something?" He asks permission, which you found sweet.
"You can try whatever you like."
"Careful, I might get reckless." He jokes.
"You and me both." Is your answer.
Watching him you see he leans closer into her breasts and watches as his glossa slowly rolls out and runs across your breasts, earning a low moan from you feeling his wet glossa drag across your chest.
"Breakdown." You whisper his name out of reacting, loving the feel of it.
"Yeah?" He questions, making you let out a breathy giggle.
"That feels great."
He sends you a smile before going back to doing that again.
More gasps and moans left you when you feel his glossa run across your breasts again, stomach, and up across your collarbone. Shivers of desire break through you, loving every moment of it.
You feel him letting out a groan against your skin as he tastes you, your body reacting very positively under him.
He goes lower, nearing between your legs where you wore the thong still, but was soaking wet from the rain, and a little from you.
Breakdown moves his servo, his digit running down your back and across your ass, snagging at the fabric a little too roughly and ripping the elastic.
"Scrap, sorry. Hope you didn't need those." How is he so charming and funny like this?
"I've got others." You manage to answer between heated breaths. "Like I said, try whatever you like."
Helping yourself you remove the ruined thong and drop them below, and you sit fully naked in his servo, gazing up at him with lust and curiosity.
He seems to have the same stare, amber optics lingering across as if he wants to read every little detail he could about you.
"You're beautiful." His words make you smile.
"And you're handsome." You say back, leaning up towards his face and kissing his lips tenderly with your hand running along his cheek plating again.
He moves lower again, so close, his glossa flattens against your skin before you feel it right between your legs. This seems to be what he wants to try, and you can't help but become more aroused knowing what he has on his mind.
You feel the warm wetness directly against your core, lingering as it drags up a little, before rolling back down, then between your slit.
A surprised moan leaves you, the sensation and pleasure suddenly starts to boil so fast in your belly while you cling onto his helm. Automatically, you open your thighs for him to have better access, and you can feel his smirk against you before the tip of his glossa invades you.
He holds you up as you hold onto his helm, thighs open across his mouth while throaty moans and sharp gasps leave you. His heated vents hit against your skin, his warm thick glossa moving back and forth inside your depths as he pretty much tongue fucks you, and you feel yourself in a world of bliss.
His humming sends vibrations from your core up directly through your entire body.
Your response is to rock your hips against him, riding his mouth gently as your hands run across his helm and gripping at different areas.
"Oh fuck!" You can't help but curse out, letting out whimpers as you feel yourself coil, but hold back as you don't want to cum so fast just yet, although he is making that a little hard for you.
Breakdown enjoys your reaction, but even more he enjoys the sweet juices coming from you. Very different to a femme's valve he thinks to himself, and somehow he finds yours so much more addictive.
He presses his glossa deeper inside, stretching you tight depths and making you suddenly fall apart through an intense orgasim as you cling tightly onto his helm, crying out a long moan. You couldn't help yourself, he is just that damn good.
Even after your orgasim he continues to do what he's doing, tasting everything and making sure he got every last drop of your juices. It is very intense, but you love every second of it.
He stops, moves away with you supported against his servo and chuckles lightly at you. "Was it that good?"
"So good." You manage to answer, smiling fondly at him.
Breakdown gets up then and picks up a blanket that was with the spare clothes, before he wraps it around, making sure you weren't just pressed against his metal before sitting back in his area with you.
"What about you?" You can't help but ask as you snuggle into the blanket.
"Nah, I'm good. We'll have time and opportunities to explore further. I don't want to push you too much." He answers.
Knowing there are going to be more opportunities already makes your stomach flip with excitement. "Sounds wonderful."
"I'm glad you got stuck with me." Breakdown smirks lightly, gently settling you up close to him with the blanket wrapped around you for you to rest on.
"We can be reckless next time." You say softly into his audio which earns a satisfied chuckle from him.
"Looking forward to it, Y/N."
#transformers#earthspark#breakdown#breakdown x reader#reader insert#robot x human#fanfiction#writing#smut#sugarrusheag
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Haha, I also spoil myself intentionally, but for the plot of movies, tv shows, and games I’m not super invested in. If I accidentally spoil myself (especially if I learn a character dies) I’ll cope by telling myself “I don’t know how/when it happened though”
Anyways Major Character Death!!
I’m SO disappointed in them killing off Soap and especially in how they did it! No buildup or anything! To me it was disrespectful to the character and to Neil Ellice. And then the 141 don’t even say anything and it cuts to them spreading his ashes with a simple goodbye! They could have at least made them a little more upset 🥲 also I hate how abruptly the game ended. Makarov gets away, but no mention to that at the end.
I had also initially requested what would become infinity in the palm of your hand (eternity in an hour) as a way to “cope” with 2009 Soap’s death because it’s always been on the back of my mind for years (weird, I know). But now after playing the new MW3 campaign I look like boo boo the fool because of who went and got killed off 😭 now every time I go back to reread it, it will be painful knowing what’s in store for reader for their current reincarnation of Soap.
Tldr I’m kinda not okay with MW3.
From what I've seen, it feels like they pulled it out of a hat. All names went in, but his (amongst others) came out. And I guess it's safe because he died in the OG, so the backlash can easily be deflected from within their own community when other fans come to their defence over this choice. But idk.
I agree with everything you said. It doesn't make any sense. It's jarring and misplaced, and canonically pointless. I'm not against character death. Grief is a powerful thing. But I just hate when it's so contrived and needless. It was definitely done for shock value over plot/character growth and I think they were trying to re-create the massive storm that happened when OG Soap died because they know they don't have much else going for them. It just massively missed the mark because: a) Price and Gaz had no tangible in-game relationship with Soap the same way Ghost did; and b) what does his death really amount to in the end? Nothing. It feels cobbled together and poorly thought out. It's sad when Portal 2 has better writing than your whole remake combined. Honestly, it's kind of impressive how little thought they put into this. I'm getting flash backs to DGG's Halloween.
If it's any consolation, the mythology I based the reincarnation off of in infinity would essentially just be neverending. An ouroboros. The events would happen much the same way. A knock on the door. Spiral of grief. A bog. A deal. Restart. So, you'd just wake up again and live life until whatever the old you made a deal with decides it's time to collect. You're forever stuck in a loop with your soulmate until you get it right.
The rest is just how I kinda wish it went, but this was getting very long because I have more thoughts on this than I anticipated lmao 😅
Personally, I think it would have been much more interesting if they brought in a new passel of characters and slowly chipped off the main cast in a series of horrible decisions that slowly begin to feel hollow and empty. That leave you, the player, feeling emotionally gutted with each new chapter because the choices previously are absolutely impacting the way they move forward, but they're too deep into their own revenge fantasy to see it until the very end when it's too late. Give me actions have consequences and every choice you make is directly responsible for someone's death. The realities of war. And what happens when you give a group of people the power to play god in countries they know nothing about. It would have matched the gritty tone they tried to go for with the trailers and actually served as an interesting conversation about war and how we tend to deify the military when they're just men with too much power in their hands. Instead, we have a death that means nothing. That arguably happened much too early in the series so the payoff is solely meant for clicks and reaction channels. Pointless.
And Makarov. A Russian Ultra Nationalist. I feel like that title alone says everything for me, and yet. They still somehow managed to give a Russian War Criminal so many wins. I'm just so irritated by it all.
#cod spoilers#mw3 spoilers#mwiii spoilers#call of duty spoilers#cod 2023 spoilers#SO MAD!!!#but also#it was a cheap way to get more engagement with their fanbase and theyre technically protected against backlash so#poor writing for the win (again)
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new ac6 au idea help me
okay so i've been playing pacific drive since it came out, and it gave me SUCH brainworms for a post-apocalyptic AU of AC6. In BULLET POINT FORM:
when the Fires happened (the first one), it occured just as a coral collapse started to initiate
this basically fucked up rubicon and its now the bermuda triangle of space
anyone who lands on it don't come back and no sensors or satellites can penetrate the thick crimson cloud that covers the entire planet (looks like jupiter from the outside now, with storms and the like)
still, corpos gonna corpo. so after a few decades when nothing changes, they send a few reconnaisance groups to the planet
some manage to report back before vanishing, and the reports are: laws of physics have been screwed up, nothing makes sense, and everything's trying to kill them
Corpos sent their ac squads bc if its dangerous bring guns
They vanish, and after sending a few more they throw up their hands and are like, planet's haunted. fuck it. no coral ever now
ENTER WALTER
who's been closely observing this whole thing for a while
paranoid this effect will spread to other systems, as ambient coral levels are rising in the vaccuum of space around the planet
sends 621 to the planet's surface with strict orders for him to find 'watchpoint alpha' which should have a functioning comms array that can send through heavy coral interference
621 crashlands on the surface and man, what the hell is this scp shit
anyways, there're still ppl living on rubicon, but they've adapted to the fact that they're stuck in a reality-warped nightmare and roll with the weirdness
they have acs, but they're such precious resources that they're only deployed whenever they're gonna do a big expedition for a resource haul when identifying a safe passage opening up to some intact ruins or old foundries
most of the time they're trundling around the planet's surface on old MRAPs or jeeps, harvesting resources where they can
the redguns and vespers who were sent before have kind of like. settled down there - those that survived, anyways. bc they can't leave, but they can't survive without working together either. so there's like an uneasy alliance between the native rubiconians, the redguns and the vespers. as well as various independents that landed and learned to survive
AYRE OF COURSE IS IN THIS
so sentient coral do exist, and they tend to possess random objects
ayre in this case has possessed a car :| 621's gonna drive it
anyway 621 and ayre come across rusty, who's a scavenger for his rubiconian outpost - and the pilot of STEEL HAZE - and tl;dr rusty takes 621 back to the warrens
621 saying he has a mission to reach watchpoint alpha, bc then he and walter can "fix" rubicon
(621 is unaware of the "burn all the coral" plan. walter only told him they're fixing this mess)
rusty's interested, but says reaching the watchpoint is dependent on the conditions. he may have to wait a while
THEN POST-APOCALYPTIC ROAD TRIP AND FALLING IN LOVE while ayre plays wingman
anyway i had to get that idea out of my mind and writen down. ac combat is super rare and is only done when redguns and vespers scrap over a big haul of resources, and even then they try not to damage each ther too much, bc if their acs get too damaged, that's it. it's not being fixed with their limited resources.
rusty who's never been a spy. born on rubicon when it was already messed up and thinks this is normal. oh hey so the landscape is constantly shifting and transforming a mile long field of grass into an acidic bog that'll chew through metal in seconds? haha yeah that happens. it is what it is. oh those manniquins you see on the road sometime? yeah they multiply when you're not looking and try to creep up on you. they explode. yeah that's normal. it really is!
god rusty would actually be incredibly weird in this. even 621 would be side eyeing him...
#armored core#armored core 6#fanfic ramblings#i just like the idea that the coral basically took reality and snapped it over its knee#and the native rubiconians were like#welp#at least this is keeping the corps off our planet???#even if we can't leave#no one can leave#iguazu is pretty certain he died and this is hell for him#snail also thinks he's died and gone to hell#freud's having the time of his life
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Because I love you~Xanlow
"Because I love you."
xanlow | 1.4k | rated T
ask game
Laslow's been left in a heap of mud.
Not long ago, he and a small army of Xander’s personal guard were in the midst of fighting. Only against some bandits and ruffians, but they were facing off in a mucky marsh. That was trouble all by itself, it was hard to move around without worrying you were going to lose a shoe.
But Xander's father provided them with a battalion of faceless for protection during their travels. And as creatures that are notoriously hard to control, one of them carelessly thwacked Laslow in the chest as they fought. It knocked the wind out of him, and he actually flew backwards and straight out of the battle.
At that moment, Laslow was profoundly grateful for the squishy mud that broke his fall. It could've been a lot worse, and a lot more deadly, had he landed on something hard or sharp. The mud acted as a nice and slimy pillow, and he was promptly smothered in it.
Dazed, Laslow couldn't pull himself up right away. Then he started sinking, fantastically, and he had to use every muscle in his body to try and keep himself steady. With a dull ache in his chest, Laslow resigned himself to his fate of needing some help to get up.
Everyone left him behind, though. Smartly, the battle moved out of the swamp and onto the more solid ground of the forest. So now Laslow's stuck, alone, mind jumbled and chest sore, in a smelly bog. Perhaps the mud was more of a curse than he imagined.
Thick drops of rain begin flicking down onto Laslow's face. Ah, not good. He might actually drown if this place begins to fill up. He decides to stop mucking around (ha-ha) and give an honest attempt to get up. It isn’t exactly fun to be lazy in the mud, but he’s tired, and he wanted to wait out as much as he could.
And he tries to escape! He really, really does! He just realizes that he's still sinking more than he's making progress and stops quite quickly afterwards.
So that's horrible. Laslow’s senses don't sharpen exactly, rather he begins to panic. Wait, is he really stuck? He tries to struggle less aggressively, but he can't find any sort of solid ground, and he really regrets letting himself sink down this far. Oh, it feels gross, and the rain is still coming down. He’s going to be devastated if anything gets in his mouth.
Which makes Xander’s sudden voice all the more heaven sent.
“Laslow!”
Laslow tries to lift his head enough to see where Xander is—and he eventually spots him, only his blond hair standing out against the dark. But he’s looking around quite aimlessly, Laslow realizes.
“Milord?” Laslow calls, and Xander snaps to attention, eyes finally on Laslow in his personal mud bath. He comes running over, and Laslow kind of awkwardly plops his head back down. “I’ll have you know I was just thinking about getting up, but somehow my limbs aren’t entirely cooperating—”
“Are you hurt?” Xander asks, kneeling next to Laslow while safely out of any gooey spots. He’s looking him over, and also absolutely staring at the mess of muck Laslow’s gotten himself into.
“Oh—I think so. But I’m not bleeding.” At least he’s pretty sure he isn’t. He feels oddly moist, but he’s certain that’s because of the frequently aforementioned mud. “I think it’s my ribs? I’m achy.”
Xander frowns down at Laslow. Then, in what seems to be a quick decision, Xander grabs the top of Laslow’s vest in a hard grip, and begins to lift him out of his muddy heap. It’s weird, even more so because it works, and Laslow stumbles onto solid ground on his hands and knees.
An exhaust comes over Laslow in the moment. It was hard work, seriously, to keep himself from sinking, lazy as he looked. He slips a bit, rolls over to sit down, and looks over at Xander quite pathetically.
It should be noted that pathetic looks work enormously rarely on Xander. So when he sighs and begins to turn, at first Laslow thinks he’s actually leaving him to his own grubby devices.
But, a cautious “Climb on my back,” from Xander speaks a different truth which Laslow readily accepts.
“Ah, my savior,” Laslow says as Xander stands, holding Laslow’s weight very well. But he always does, despite the many burdens Laslow brings along with him. “I was worried I’d drown for a moment there. Someone once said to me that it’s not a bad way to go, but how could they possibly know that? I’m not convinced, I'm really not.”
“You’re awfully talkative.”
Laslow sighs. “I’m very lightheaded.”
“We’ll find a proper place for you to rest soon.” Xander continues walking, carefully avoiding the deepest mud pits in the bog. “You were quite a ways, you know.”
“Because you all ran off and left! Abandoning me in a literal pile of goop.” Laslow flings a slop of mud off of his hand for good measure, and Xander shakes his head with a scoff. It gets a laugh out of Laslow, which makes also his chest hurt. So he just rests his chin on Xander’s shoulder. All cold and metal, of course.
“…You came back and found me, though,” Laslow says. He’s teasing a bit, too.
“I did.”
“What made you?”
Xander scowls, eyes still ahead and looking at the thicket of trees they’re slowly approaching. “What made me? You disappeared.”
“I suppose so.” Laslow tilts his head back and forth, chin still planted on Xander’s armor. “Any better reasons?”
Very often, Laslow fails to amuse Xander. Unfortunately, there isn’t a happy ending to this. “I will grant you the mercy of not assuming that you were hoping to be praised for having been trapped in mire.”
“Well thank you, because I wasn’t. I’ll admit, however, that I’m always open to my ego being stroked.” Laslow tilts his head a little far, and manages to bonk the side of Xander’s head lightly. Xander doesn’t shake him off—he doesn’t really do that anymore. Laslow has been gracefully granted the right of toleration. “My heart needs an extra beat or two, or I’ll die right here.”
“Quite the exaggeration,” Xander says plainly. Laslow scrunches his nose.
“Won’t you indulge me? Savior?” He earns a huff from Xander for that.
“Was there something noxious in that mud?”
“You wound me!” Laslow kicks his feet about, until Xander readjusts and makes Laslow nervous to fall. “I’ll be quiet if you tell me something good.”
Xander seems annoyed, but not nearly enough so that Laslow will stop being playful. There’s always some room for this, he thinks. Unless Xander gets actually mad. But lately, many things have changed, and… He doesn’t, as much.
“Why did I rescue you,” Xander repeats, not quite muttering. “Am I correct that you wouldn’t be satisfied with my saying that you’re my valuable retainer?”
Laslow grins, feeling a small warmth radiate in his chest. It’s just beneath the pain, settling in soundly. “It would’ve been enough, though you’re welcome to go on.”
Because Xander is fundamentally a kind man, he doesn’t just drop Laslow for the comment. But there’s long enough of a pause before Xander speaks that Laslow’s sure he considers it. “What would you like me to say?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Laslow presses his lips together. “Because I’m invaluable and not an idiot for getting knocked into a pit of mud and almost dying very stupidly?”
…Laslow is kind of embarrassed, actually.
“Hm.” Laslow waits, but that’s all Xander provides.
“Hm?”
Xander looks around. Though the army isn’t in sight even still. The two of them are very much in their lonesome, unless this muck and gunk all over Laslow is sentient.
“May I say because I love you?” Xander asks.
Laslow feels himself blush. He grunts a little, and he stuffs his head into Xander’s cloth collar, digging his nose into his neck. For a moment, he rests there.
“That works, I think,” Laslow says, still nestled in. He pauses. “…May I say I love you back?”
Xander slows his pace a bit, and he rests his head against Laslow’s. “Will you always be so needy with me?’
“Only a little.” Despite how he can’t find any exposed skin, Laslow still kisses Xander’s neck. “Thank you for saving me.”
Xander exhales. And he keeps walking through the forest while Laslow pecks his neck and bumps his jaw.
“It was only some mud.”
#thanks for the request~~~!!!!#i will be like oh maybe this time i wont do established relationship--#(in walks established relationship with a steel chair)#I JUST LOVE THEIR BANTER. OKAY. THEY ARE IN LOOOOOOVE#i dont know why i keep writing fics where laslow gets thrown into [substance] and xander has to rescue him but here we are.#its good and fun SUE me (dont)#dots answers asks#anonymous#dots writing games#<- it took me forever to find this tag LOL i forgot what it was#im also gonna use#dots writes#might go around reorganizing tags soon bc im such a mess w these#anyway thank you again~~!!! ah its always so fun to write these two than k youu
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