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#but *if* one gets abandoned for any reason I can take well care of it until we figure out what to do with them
oceansssblue · 19 hours
Note
If you're still taking clone requests, I would LOVE to see something cute and domestic! A couple ideas I've been rotating in my head lately:
-Fives and reader messing around in the kitchen together, making dinner, dancing to stupid music and teasing each other's cooking skills, which inevitably ends in a huge mess (and dinner probably being forgotten about...)
-Wrecker getting sick and being forced into bed despite trying to keep working. It's totally against his will at first, but soon he starts to enjoy the chance to be soft and gentle. The reader finally convinces him to let them take care of him for once, assuring him that he doesn't always have to be the strong one
-Echo and the reader discussing starting a family, Echo expressing his doubts about what kind of father he would be and the reader reassuring him, telling him how much they love watching him with Omega and how good a father he'd be. The more they talk about it the more excited Echo gets at the idea
Hope these sparked something for you! Have a great day :)
Okay okay! Decided to do the two bottom ones as I've already done a kitchen fluffy one with fives and got a few for him requested as well (one of which I'll be working on next).
They're short, since I wanted to do both of then in the same post under the cut. Hope you like them, enjoy!
"BED REST"
TBB REQUESTS– WRECKER/GN READER 📩💖
WARNINGS: none
Somehow, inherently with being a big, strong person, Wrecker was used to helping people. Maybe it was just Wrecker's personality on itself; the way he felt truly happy when taking care of someone, being part of the solution to someone's problem. Wether it be physicall help or kind words, it made him feel warm.
What Wrecker wasn't used to, however, was to be taken care of. Well, he had a very close relationship with his brothers, and they always had an eye out for each other; but it wasn't like that. It didn't soothe any deeper emotional part of him. It was more of a... physical safety check of sorts. Tech had actually suggested to integrate a monthly therapy session to talk about their respective feelings years ago; but it hadn't ended up being a reality, lost instead in his never ending line of hypothetical ideas.
Maybe that's the reason why Wrecker doesn't say anything about the way he's feeling himself. Maybe that's the reason why he puts up a big smile on his face and sits through the presentation of your project as if he's not feeling downright awful. He's so kind and sweet even in his state you don't even notice it until you're actually home with him; and you see him pulling up an uncomfortable expression when he watches you take out some pasta from your fridge.
"Wrecker?" You look at him confused and slightly worried. "Are you feeling okay, honey?"
Wrecker tries to smile again; but his expresion falls and he quickly takes a hand to his stomach, putting slight preasure to it.
You frown and close the fridge, abandoning the tupper back inside of it and aproaching him closely. You carefully place your hand on his wide shoulder.
"Sweetheart, are you feeling ill?" You guess.
Wrecker hesitates.
"Oh, it's nothing" he quickly answers, even with his face twisting in pain. "Just my stomach being whinny".
You smile and caress his shoulder. Poor Wrecker, trying to ignore himself to push through your presentation and make you happy. You can't have him suffering.
"Why don't you go lay down on bed for a bit? I'll make you some tea and be right there" you suggest.
Wrecker frowns in disagreement.
"Oh, no, love, there's no need. I'm fine, really. I'll probably be as good as new in a pair of hours".
You're a little confused as by why he's so reluctant to admit he's not doing good and let you help. You try to soothe him with another caress and a smile; gentle expression on your face.
"And you can rest til you do" you insist, softly but firm, leaving no space for him to evade you.
Wrecker glances to the side.
"Oh, uh... Love..." he suddenly exhales deeply, as if surrendering, and adds in an embarassed tone "I just don't want you to feel like you need to fuss over me. I can take care of myself".
You blink slowly. Ah. You might be starting to see the problem. Maybe it's related with the fact that he's a soldier; always the hero, the saviour, and not the damsel in distress. Maybe it's just that he's Wrecker; always strong and efficient. Well...
"You don't have to be strong with me all the time" you whisper to him, closing up the distance between each others faces and nuzzling your nose with his, affectionately. "I know you can take care of yourself, Wreck, but I want to take care of you too".
Wrecker sighs, and you know you've almost got him convinced, so you continue.
"You always take such good care of me, love. I want to take care of you now. Wanna make you feel loved and safe. Let me, please?"
Wrecker melts and finally nods. You give him a little smile and direct him to your bedroom. Your boyfriend slowly lays in bed, with his back against the wall, watching you hesitantly; you give him a peck on the cheek before returning to the kitchen and quickly putting up together the best of your teas. You think it might help to settle Wrecker's stomach.
You go back to your bedroom with it in your hand; and you carefully pass it to Wrecker, who inmediately gives it an exploratory sip. He humms in aproval; and you find a spot besides him, both of your thighs pressed together.
You patiently wait til Wrecker has finished his tea and has left the empty cup on your nightstand. Then, you slowly direct the clone to scooch downwards and place his head on your lap. You caress his head, then his shoulders and chest; soothing patterns with the sole purpose to comfort him.
Wrecker melts. This was better than what he had thought of at first. He thought it might be uncomfortable, relinquishing control to some other person, being the one in need; but oh, this is great, with your soft hands and your tender words. He might grow to even like it.
Your hands squeeze a sore spot on his shoulder and he groans.
Yeah. He will.
THE END.
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"TO PLAN A FAMILY"
TBB REQUESTS – ECHO/F READER 📩💖
WARNINGS: Mentions of prosthetics and starting a family.
You first noticed it at the end of your first year dating Echo. The lingering glances, the way he seemed to grow lost in his thoughts, how he sighed deeply as if there was something pulling at his heart. You became observant throughout the first part of that second year together; and you reached your conclusion. It's always Hunter and Omega.
They're incredibly sweet, both of them. It's warming to see them interact together in their own special father and daughter relationship. Hunter's firm and always attentive; Omega in his teenager era trying to be more independent. Trying to show everyone she's capable, though you all know she is.
Inevitably, you start paying more attention to Echo's own interactions with the blond girl. For some reason, Omega has always saved a special spot on her heart for Echo; and since you returned with him to the Marauder after a last dangerous mission with Rex and the Rebellion, she has grown even closer to the man that holds your own heart.
It makes you melt, the way he takes care of her. How he teaches her and how he patiently waits for her to replicate his lesson; gentle hands redirecting her and a proud, small smile pulling on his lips when she achieves it. When things get hard, and Omega grows sad or restless, Echo talks her through it; voice soft but not masking reality, helping her understand and process that things can't always be as they want to, but that there's always a reason to keep trying. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you think on how many times this wonderful man has said those same words to himself.
"Echo" you whisper his name one night when you can't keep holding it in. He slowly turns in bed towards you and hums sleeply. You brace yourself for any possible reaction of his. "Do you ever want to have kids?"
At first, Echo seems to freeze. Then he blinks twice, as if he is trying to move on from the fact that you've actually asked him this question out loud; and then he sighs quietly.
"I don't know if I should, to start with" he answers, voice barely audible in the silence of your bedroom.
You frown, lost.
"Why not?"
Echo mirrors your position in front of him; laying on one side of his body with his prosthetic knees slightly bent and head resting on his left bycep.
His eyes move away from yours, glancing down in that reserved way of his that indicate he's feeling a mix of contradicting emotions. You know him well by now.
"We're not living the safest of lifes, cyare. What kind of father would I be if I had to dissapear to help Rex here and there, or put my son through a constant runaway? Besides... They just might get scared of me".
You know the last statement refers to his appearance –you haven't met him before, so you've always seen this shape of his hot as fuck–; and you gently clasp his shoulder with your hand.
"Don't say that" you answer, softly. "They won't. They won't care if you have methalic legs or arms or a headset. They'd love you just the same, just like I do. It's what good families do".
Echo stays silent, thoughtfull. He shimmies forward in bed so that you're touching now; one of your thighs quickly moving over his hip and snuggling together, noses touching and nuzzling slowly.
"Would you?" He finally asks you. "Have kids?"
Your heart beats steadily inside your chest. You can't lie to him.
"Yes" you whisper, hand moving to caress his cheek delicately. You sigh, wishful, and you confess "I love watching you with Omega. You've just got the perfect ammount of gentleness, firmness, patience and honesty. I can't help but imagine you crouching down to explain something to a little Echo as well".
You kiss him sweetly and whisper in front of his lips "You'd be a great father, riduur".
Echo makes a sound with the back of his throat, pulling you tigther towards him. You close your eyes in the embrace.
Echo pictures it in his mind. A smaller version of himself and you, a perfect mix, running around and asking innocent questions to the both of you. How you'd look with him in your arms and how much you'd both love him. It's so beautiful in his mind it suddenly hurts for it not to be real.
Echo hums and conceeds.
"We can talk thorugh it seriously tomorrow" he agrees, pulling a radiant hopeful smile on your face "But right now it's late, and we both need to sleep".
You nod enthusiastically. You know you won't be able to for at least another hour, too excited at the possibility of your recents dream becoming true; but you'll just close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat.
You give his lips a peck and glance downwards. You tap his prosthetics with your index.
"You gonna take this today, mesh'la?" You ask him casually.
Once thing you have learned is that Echo doesn't like his physical problems to be treated as if he were made of glass. He understands the empathy; but it makes him uncomfortable, sometimes. By now, after two years together, you've already perfectioned your ways; and the best one is to just be normal about it, not to avoid it or tone it down. Echo's dissabled, but not uncapable. There's an abism of a difference.
"Yeah" Echo answers, moving to search the joints and attachments to abandon his prosthetic legs to the side. "My hips hurt today".
You hum and patiently wait for him to pull them off, leaving them carefully on the floor, before he rolls back towards you and you instanctly welcome him back into your arms.
You kiss him again and yawn.
"We'll take a warm bath tomorrow and I'll give you a nice massage afterwards" you offer, growing sleepy.
Echo smiles.
"You're too good to me" he whispers, cuddling closer.
You hum in disagreement.
"I'm as good as you deserve".
That night, you both dream of your own little family.
THE END.
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taraaaa! Two in one love, u can't complain! Hahahaha. I hope you liked them, they ended up really fluffy and sweet on my opinion.
I'll be writing either a Fives or Tech request next, stay stunned!
Xx,
Sky.
Back to general masterlist here!
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mushies-stories · 22 days
Text
Showering with TF141 for the first time headcanons
TF141Xreader
Warnings: little suggestive, 18+
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John Price
Showering with John the first time made you feel like you had been doing it wrong your whole life. 
He has separate shampoo, conditioner and body wash. None of it smells too strong but over is a more masculine scent. He even suggested that maybe you bring some of your own shower supplies over to keep at his place.
He let you take up most of the warm water, the selfless and generous man he is. ^v^
Pampers you. John washes your hair and body without question. 
Thinks grooming each other is not only romantic but also is a strong form of bonding and closeness. He craves your attention and presence and showering together is perfect for that.
He uses a loofah to scrub your body, standing a little closer while he washes your back. His hands are firm but gentle as they caress your body and lather it in soapy suds. 
You lean with your head and back to his chest while his hands massage over your breasts and stomach. Teasing you just a little, fingers grazing along your nipples a little too much as he presses you closer against him. 
When his hand dips between your thighs and he runs his fingers between your folds you can’t contain the little moan you let out. He smiles into the crook of your neck and does it again and chuckles when your back arches, pressing your ass against him.
“Feel good love?” he teases. his hand abandoned your heat to rinse the rest of the soap off your body. With little sighs of protest from you. 
When he washes your hair, his hands are too gentle and so delicate that you could hardly believe they could ever be used for violence. He takes care not to snag any tangles and works them out with his fingers. Your eyes flutter shut when he starts to massage your scalp.
He makes sure not to get the soap in your eyes.
Is more than delighted when you take to washing him as well. Smiles and hands over the loofah. 
Maybe it's just me.. But… I imagine John standing in front of you with your back against the cold shower wall, his arms caging you in while you trail the loofah along his skin. 
It actually takes everything in him not to get to hard and fuck you. He had time for that later. Once you finally moved in he couldn't see a reason why he couldn't shower with you every chance he could get. 
Lets you use his bathrobe and laughs at how big it was on you. Make a mental note to buy you one of your own in your favorite color, but fluffier. 
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
At first Simon wasn’t sure if showering together would be that good of an idea. He already took up a lot of space. When you finally convinced him and managed to actually fit you both in he was a little surprised. 
You fit but he didn't get as much of the water, otherwise he would take it all.
To your horror Simon uses a 2in1 shampoo and conditioner BUT he does have separate body wash. 
Nothing too extreme or strong for scent. Body Wash is like  irish spring or something but even lighter.
He was going to just take care of himself real fast then focus on you but you stopped him, hand on his arm and reaching for the bodywash yourself. You ask him with those sweet eyes of yours if you can help. He nods silently and lets you do as you please. 
The only thing he has is a sad looking rag so you opt to just use your hands, rubbing the soap over his chest and shoulders, making him turn around so you can reach his back. 
(if you are brave and so desire, you may try and cop a feel, go ahead. Just be ready to get your wrist snatched as he whips back around with a glare.)
But overall he enjoys the attention, it's soothing and relaxing and he's groaning when you wash his hair. Your fingers raking across his scalp helps his mind slow down a little.  
Insists on repaying the favor, being as nice and gentle as you were, caressing your body in his large hands. He had an easier time washing your body than you did his, making sure to reach every little crevasse of your body.
He's tried really hard to be gentle with your hair. He doesn't want to pull on any tangles and ultimately fails. But he kisses your head every time he snagged his fingers in your hair.
“Sorry lovie… not meanin’ta tug so much.” he mumbles an apology. 
Simon decided he didn’t really mind showering together, you actually made it a much more enjoyable process, not just something for necessity. 
After the shower he gives you one of his white shirts that covers just below your ass to lounge in, just to see your still damp body through the thin fabric. 
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John 'Soap' MacTavish
Johnny was the one who dragged you into the shower with him with one clear goal. To make you smell like him before you go out with your friends, he had to get up early and decided to stay home.
Only problem.. Mans uses 3in1… granted its extra scented and you won't be able to mistake it was meant for men. But still, your cringe at the thought of using it. Even though you complain the whole time he’s lathering your body up and chuckles at you. 
He doesn't even have a rag, just a true dude really, roughing it in the shower. Just uses his rough calloused hands that sends chills down your spine instead.
Is handsy, can't stop himself from groping your breasts and lingering a little too long between your thighs. Even nipping and kissing your shoulder once he washed your body off. 
You have to bat his hands away to make sure you're not late, knowing you still have to get ready. 
“M’sorry dove, just so pretty and naked for me.” he groans into your ear, holding your back to his chest, hands cupping your breasts. “Sure ya gotta go? Can't just stay’er with me?” he pleads with you. 
You firmly, while giggling from his kisses on your neck, tell him you can't.
When he washes your hair he puts a little too much in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rely on Johnny to help you to the water. Teases you when you cling to him in your blinded state.
Honestly he wanted to ask you to wash him too but he knew you were running late so he did it himself quickly so you could get ready. 
Overall you don't mind his playfulness or his touchiness, with more time you would even indulge in it, but with better shower supplies. 
Drapes the towel over your shoulders and wraps you in his arms to keep you warm from the cold air.
good thing you at least had your makeup and outfit with.
You promise to buy a few new things for him, so you feel better about showering at his place. Then you'll make sure to give him the same treatment, with much more time. 
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Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Kyle, like John, has separate products. The scent of his body wash is stronger but with a... spicy?? under-tone to it.
Showering with him is a little slow, and lazy. He normally likes to shower right when he gets up and this time you just happen to join him, wanting to spend as much time with him before he leaves for the day. Not like he was complaining.
Keeps you close so you both can enjoy as much of the warm water as possible. Holds you to his chest most of the time  
Goes to wash himself before you stop him and take the body wash from him with a small smile. His heart flutters when you softly ask if you could help, which he responds to with a tired smile and a nod.
He lets himself relax, enjoying your hands lathering his body in suds. You were gentle and a little hesitant at first but soon gained full confidence when he handed you the shampoo and asked you to wash his hair too. 
You do so happily. You scratch and massage his scalp, making him groan with delight as the relaxing sensation. 
Before you even think of washing yourself, he's doing the exact same thing and stealing the bodywash, telling you it was his turn.
He’s respectful, only gripping onto your hips a little and cupping your breasts for only a moment. He has work and can't give you the attention you deserve. 
But that doesn't stop him too much, still not able to resist grabbing your ass and pulling you in for a lazy kiss.
When he washes your hair, he practically has you falling back asleep while you lean against him. He decided he could just eat on his way to base, making sure you were clean and happy was currently his top priority now.
Takes a moment to hold you under the showerhead, relishing in the warm water and you against him before reluctantly turning the water off.
He only has towels, but they're big and cover most of your body.
While he dresses, you crawl back in bed. Naked and clean. Kyle smirks and tells you that you better be right there, just like that when he gets home tonight. And you happily obliged. 
“Just like that, got it? Want ya naked and ready yeah.” He instructs with a glint in his eye.
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plutoswritingplanet · 7 months
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could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?
You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)
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a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3
Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes
Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.
Part 2.
You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.
There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.
"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.
They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.
So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.
"Hostage!"
Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.
Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.
"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."
You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.
"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.
"Barely."
"Can you dance though?"
"Barely as well."
He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.
"You'll be performing in our next act."
Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.
"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".
"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.
They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.
"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"
The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.
"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"
He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.
Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.
"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.
"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.
He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.
"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.
"Sing for me some more" he says.
And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.
A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.
And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.
It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.
An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.
Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.
Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.
You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.
"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"
You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.
"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."
At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.
So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.
"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.
"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.
"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."
He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.
"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"
Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.
"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"
Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.
"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.
Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.
Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.
"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.
"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."
You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.
Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.
"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.
Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.
"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.
So he hasn't let this one go.
No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.
"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.
He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.
You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.
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crossdressingdeath · 1 year
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A thing I wish DAO went into more: the way Alistair is in some ways incredibly selfish. Like, the way he refuses to take charge of the group is treated as kind of endearing in the text, but the game doesn't really get into what a massive burden he just... drops on the junior Warden present with no warning or discussion. Think about it: the Warden is heavily implied to be very young (possibly younger than Alistair, definitely around the same age), most of them have no real experience in leadership, several of them have no experience in the world outside their small corner, all of them have only been Wardens for a few days. And Alistair dumps leadership of the group on them and refuses to take any of that weight. Does your Warden like leadership? Are they any good at it? Is it exhausting and difficult for them? Alistair doesn't care! He doesn't want to lead, and that means you have to lead, and whether or not you want to lead has no bearing on that. It's not a discussion, there's no suggestion of sharing the responsibility of leadership as the Wardens of the group; Alistair metaphorically throws the responsibility at you and runs.
But if you go for low approval with Alistair it's basically all about calling him childish and immature, even though I think a much more compelling low approval dynamic is the Warden despising Alistair for putting so much on them with no hesitation, but being stuck with him (because they know as well as he does that they need all hands on deck Warden-wise) and stuck with that burden of leadership (because a Warden kind of has to be in charge of the group and even if one didn't no one else in the group would be very good as a leader in this situation, and Alistair has made it very clear that he won't take it). Even at high approval it would be very compelling to have this sense of resentment at how Alistair just assumed they'd take on the burden of leadership and refuses to take any of it for himself. But that aspect gets completely ignored in the story, you don't really get the chance to raise the matter aside from asking why you're in charge despite him being the senior Warden present a couple of times.
It also adds something really spicy to the fallout of sparing Loghain, though, because... Alistair forced the Warden to take on leadership. He made them be the one to make these hard choices. It's never been a discussion, it's never been the Warden's choice whether or not they take on responsibility for these tough decisions, Alistair always just expects them to do it. And now they've made a call he doesn't like, and he abandons the group on the eve of battle because of his wounded feelings? I'd argue that's as much a betrayal as sparing Loghain if not more so, and certainly more of a betrayal of Duncan's memory; Duncan understood that a good Warden must be driven by necessity, not emotion or even morality, and I feel like in the Warden's place he likely would've made the same call. They need Wardens around to kill the Archdemon, as many as they can get, and even one more could make the difference between victory and defeat. The Warden and Alistair may not know the details, but with the most senior Warden present saying they should make Loghain a Warden instead of killing him a logical assumption would be he has a very good reason for saying so and maybe they should listen to him! I would've loved it if during the argument with Alistair after sparing Loghain you could really get into that "You forced the responsibility of making these decisions on me when I never wanted or asked for it, you don't get to throw a tantrum now that I've made one you don't like" aspect of it, but you... don't. And that's a shame, because it takes a lot of depth away from his dynamic with the Warden.
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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poly!marauders x reader but reader is contemplating their relationship?
(IDK IF YOU DO ANGST SORRY 😭)
No worries!! It's definitely not my most practiced genre but I'm happy to give it a try :) Honestly unsure if this came out as angsty enough, so please do not be shy and let me know if not! Thanks for requesting
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 886 words
James, Remus, and Sirius balance each other out perfectly. James is so sweet he should come with a warning label, always showering everyone in affection and bringing joy into every room he's in; Remus emanates a quieter sort of contentedness, and he provides a calm, rational perspective when the others need it; and Sirius takes everything they have together and dials it up to eleven, the depth of his feelings so intense that being around him is almost a sort of high.
The issue is, you're not sure where you fit into all that.
The boys seem to care about you, but you can't really figure out why. You have none of James' lightness, Remus' patience, Sirius' humor. You've been trying to hold onto this thing between you, to enjoy it while it lasts, but waiting for the other shoe to drop is becoming maddening. Eventually—someday soon, likely—they're going to realize that they're better off without you.
Naturally, you're pondering this while Sirius braids your hair, James chattering about why he thinks you all need a dog (Sirius has pointed out that you already have him) and Remus reading with his back leaned against your side.
You're trying to figure out the least needy way to ask why they care about you when Remus nudges you with a movement of his shoulder.
"You've been quiet tonight, dove."
It's far from accusatory, but the other boys pick up on the implication nonetheless. Suddenly, all the attention in the room is on you. It's a bit overwhelming.
"I was just thinking..." you say tentatively, unsure of your words. "Do you think we'll all stay together?"
James looks as though you've slapped him, and though Remus doesn't turn, you feel the muscles in his shoulders tense.
"Why would you say that?" James asks. "Of course I think so."
"But..." Merlin, there's no easy way to go about this conversation. "I just, I don't really see what I'm bringing to the table here." You cringe at your own words, awaiting judgement—or worse, epiphany—from your boyfriends.
Sirius, whose hands have been motionless in your hair since you spoke up, abandons his project entirely, letting your hair drop limply from his grasp. "Wha—what does that even mean, what you bring to the table?"
Remus turns around, placing a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Easy, love," he murmurs. "Y/N, can you tell us what you're worried about?"
You look between them as Sirius comes to sit beside Remus, feeling stupid and immature. "Sorry, it's not...a you-guys thing. It's just that, I can see how well you work together, and why you love each other, but I don't really see why you'd love me." Your voice gets quieter as you finish, shameful of your thoughts and the position you know you're putting them in.
Sirius releases a disbelieving exhale, slumping into Remus' side, and the taller boy wraps an arm around him, looking at you like you're one of his crosswords and have just given him a particularly perplexing clue.
"Sweetheart," James says, pulling your attention towards him, "it's not a matter of why we would love you, just that we do. Do you need to list off reasons for why you care about every person in your life, or doesn't it just happen?"
"I don't need to," you admit, "but I could. I love you guys because of who you are."
"And so do we," Remus says. "Dove, we care about you. Isn't that enough? Can you trust us with that?"
"It's not..." It's not a matter of trusting them. You'd trust any of them with your life, with everything. It's that you don't trust yourself. It's that you're worried you won't live up to it, to this earnest affection they're offering you. You don't think you deserve it.
"How about this," Sirius says, in his typical cut-to-the-chase manner. "If we didn't love you—and have damn good reasons for loving you—we wouldn't be with you. So there." You must look unconvinced, because Sirius arches a brow. "You don't think that, with James' bod and Remus' hot accent, not to mention my boyish charm, we could have anyone we wanted?"
You crack a smile, but Sirius just looks at you, awaiting an answer. You shrink a bit under his gaze.
"You could," you say sheepishly.
"Right." Sirius grins suavely. "And we used those combined faculties to snag this hot piece of ass." Without warning, he reaches out and drags you into him, the two of you piling an unfair amount of weight onto Remus.
You squeal, and James shouts "Oi! Leave our poor Moony alone," tugging on Remus' arm until Remus sighs, disentangling himself from Sirius and going to sit beside James. James ruffles his hair, planting a triumphant kiss on the taller boy's cheek. If Remus blushes a bit, you pretend not to notice.
"Got that?" Sirius looks at you threateningly, but his voice is soft, his eyes imploring. "We want you, baby. Finders, keepers."
James nods as if this is a sage decree. "Think you might be able to get used to that?" he asks, and you know he's only partly joking.
You relax into Sirius' hold, giving Remus and James an apologetic look. "Yeah," you say. You can definitely get used to this.
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httpswritings · 4 months
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We've created an artist — Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Child! Reader
Warning: angst, abandonment issues, hitting. avoid reading if you feel uneasy about these topics.
Word count: 1386.
Summary: Alexia and Jenni had a daughter back in 2020. They split up in 2022 and Alexia started dating Olga the same year. In this fic, Jenni and Alexia do not end up together but they do face some challenges coparenting.
A/N: I almost sobbed writing this lol. It's pretty dramatic but it's worth it. 🫶
Through 2023, Alexia began introducing Olga to you. She started to make some comments about “her friend Olga” so you could get used to her name. Then, she gave you some gifts her friend Olga gave you; they made you really excited, as they usually were toys, fluffed animals, cute pieces of clothing from your favorite cartoons, etc. As you got used to Olga being in your mother's life, she eventually introduced her to you.
It went well. Olga was caring, all smiles for you. She was a bit timid, which you thought was wonderful, as you found her to be a delicate and loving woman. Alexia ended up telling you Olga was, in fact, her girlfriend and not her friend. It didn't change anything between the three of you, as your mother, Jenni, was also around, and everything carried on well.
While you were going through the life challenges of a two-year-old, your mother, Jenni, had to explain to you that she was going to be away for some time. It was not an easy, but necessary, decision for her and her football career. Even if you did not understand it, the psychologist your mothers talked to said it was crucial for your well-being to explain to you why Jenni was going to be away for some time, even if it sounded odd. She kept in contact with you through video calls, calls, and gifts she kept sending you and visiting you in Barcelona anytime she could, giving up any opportunity to visit her family in Madrid as you were her priority. The reason she didn't bring you to Mexico is because she didn't have any family there, while Alexia had her whole family near her. You still got to spend some time in Mexico when you visited Jenni with her family, especially your uncle, Jenni's brother, who you always had such a great time with. Because of these trips to Mexico, being far away from your mother, Jenni, wasn't that tough. Of course you missed her, but you saw her every month for a few days.
The World Cup came, and it was the best moment of your life. You got to spend about three months with both of your mothers and their teammates, especially the one who was closer to them. You celebrated your third birthday during your stay in New Zealand, as you were born in July.
September arrived. You started kindergarten when you were already three years old. You had a great start, coming home amused by how much fun you had at school each day. Alexia was the one who picked you up from school most days, but some of them you were greeted by Alexia's family, Olga, or Jenni's family when they came to visit. 
It took you almost a month before you started having an issue with Jenni not being able to pick you up from school. Your class was quite diverse, with different kinds of families: with one parent; with two mothers or fathers; with one mother and one father. But you had two mothers in your life; you wanted one of them to pick you up from school, just like you noticed some of your classmates were.
“Where can I go back to Mexico to see Mami?" you asked Alexia as she was picking you up from school. “Where's the «Hello, Mamà»?" she said as she tried to avoid the question. “Hello, Mamà. When am I seeing Mami again?” Alexia smiled at your innocence. “Soon, baby, soon.” You did not keep asking her about it, as you noticed tears threatening to escape your eyes. But that didn't imply that you were taking Jenni's absence well. The videocalls with Jenni kept getting quicker, as you couldn't bear seeing her through the phone for too long.
“What's up to her, Ale? Is everything alright?" Jenni asked one afternoon, when you didn't even spend one minute talking to her. Alexia tried to hold you but snapped back at her, “Leave me; I want to leave.” Afterwards, you went to your room to play with some toys.
Some weeks later, Alexia told you it was time to talk to Jenni, but you refused. “I don't want to talk with her.” “What do you mean you don't want to? Mami is waiting for you, baby. Did something happen?” “No. I'm not talking to her or to you."
Alexia sighed. She was usually calm when it came to you. Whenever something happened with you, she would sit with you and let you express yourself, even if that implied crying out of frustration because you couldn't go to the park. Something not a big deal to her but a huge deal for you at your age.
“What do you need, my love?” She kept asking you questions with a delicate tone. Olga got nearer and caressed your cheek, to which you responded by smiling. Alexia was dealing with some discomfort in her knee, which had her very worried. Still, she managed to keep calm and try to understand you. But you kept quiet. Worryingly quiet. Your mind felt so loud inside that you noticed your sight getting blurry. Images of Jenni came to your mind in a rush. You loved Alexia, but you needed Jenni's gentle and motherly touch.
Alexia began to lose her patience, and you shouted, “I need Mami. I want Mami. I want her now.” Alexia tried to calm you down, but you refused to let her touch you. “No! Don't touch me. I want Mami, not you”, as you got out of her embrace, slightly hitting her on the arm, running to your room, and shutting the door harshly.
It was the first time you did something like that. Getting out of Alexia's embrace the way you did wasn't a big deal for you, but Alexia felt like the whole world was collapsing. Olga rushed to hug Alexia, but her mind was repeating the moment of you hitting her. “Ale, baby, come back, please. Look at me.” Alexia's eyes had no expression overall. "Alexia." Olga said as she made Alexia look at her.
“She doesn't want me, Olga.”
“Yes, she does. Alexia, Y/N adores you. She just needs Jenni here too. She knows she has you here, in the room next to hers, at home. She's going to see you when she wakes up. She's going to have lunch with you. She plays with you at home. You both go on walks. She knows it, baby. But she also knows she can't have all that with Jenni. She doesn't have her other mother with her.” Alexia nodded, trying to understand Olga. “Y/N probably isn't aware of what she has just done. It was her way of expressing it. Later, you can explain to her why she can't hit people, even if she's sad, but right now, let her have some time to go through her anger and calm yourself down before talking to her.” Alexia finally hugged Olga back. “Thank you, Olga. Thank you.”
Half an hour later, Alexia came into your room, finding it empty. She freaked out as she called out your name, but you didn't respond. She went to her room. Still, you were nowhere to be found. “Alexia, she's here." Olga said. Alexia rushed to an empty room in the house, used for nothing in particular. You were sleeping on the floor with a drawing next to you. As Alexia got closer to you, Olga got out of the room to leave you both some time alone. In the paper, you drew yourself, with Alexia and Olga to your left. Olga was dressed with a timid smile and in a dress. Alexia was dressed the same way as you, in a fairy costume. This was enough to make Alexia cry. In the drawing, you also drew Jenni next to your right. She was drawn with a huge smile, emphasizing her dark black hair.
Alexia took a photo of your drawing and sent it to Jenni. “Look, we've created an artist. A very talented girl, Jenni. Talk to you in a couple of hours, as I know it's still pretty early there in México.” Then, she took a photo of you sleeping on the floor and sent it to her too. “Even geniuses need some sleep 😴 ”
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(Genshin Impact) Jean, Eula, Rosaria, Ei, Shenhe, Yelan, Navia, Lumine rescuing their S/O
No one requested this, Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out For A Hero" came on and demanded I write. ...Same thing happened for the AK-15 fic actually. I NEED A HERO, I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO-
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The moment Jean learns that her S/O had been kidnapped for ransom, her senses become so hyper focused and immediately sets off to alert the Knights of an abduction.
She wastes absolutely no time in tracking S/O, and does so easily with her and the others searching.
Her adrenaline kicks into overdrive, and she does not rest until S/O is safe inside Mondstadt walls, ignoring any injury sustained and insisting that she can keep going.
For only a brief moment, Jean loses control and doesn't even warn warn the kidnappers or attempt an arrest, immediately using her Vision to blow them back.
The sight of her S/O is enough to get her to snap back to her senses, and promptly make the offenders pay for their crimes by sending them to the jails.
With a sigh of relief, Jean feels the exhaustion on her body start to take its toll, but she smiles as she unties them.
(Jean) "Thank goodness you're alright. Let's get you home."
She gives her S/O the tightest hug of their life, and has one arm locked around them the entire journey back.
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Eula absolutely loses it the moment she learned that someone of the Lawrence clan has kidnapped her S/O.
This was the exact reason she did not want them associated with her-
No. Now was not the time for such thoughts. Now was the time for vengeance.
Being the Captain of the Reconnaissance company, she doesn't have any difficulty in locating their whereabouts.
As much as Eula would like to make sure the Lawrence in question never take another step, she knows it'd be far worse for them to be alive and imprisoned by the Knights of Favonius.
With a swing of her claymore, she instantly puts down the attacker in an ambush and cuffs them. Her gaze turns to her lover before releasing them, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.
(Eula) "Hmph, how careless of you to be captured by another Lawrence. Next time, you will not be so lucky."
By the way her hand was shaking and how close she remained at their side, they could easily see past her words and how worried she was about them.
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VIOLENCE
Unlike most people in Mondstadt, her idea of justice is if the person never takes another breath again.
The person kidnapping S/O more than likely had no idea that she was even associated with them. That was their first mistake.
Their last mistake was assuming they would get away with it alive.
Rosaria stalks the kidnapper to where her S/O is being kept.
For the moment, they were unconscious.
Which worked for her.
Dropping down from the shadows, she quietly but violently dispatches of the kidnapper, taking extra care to not make a mess on S/O.
She unties them before carrying them in her arms out of harm's way, not making a comment until they woke up.
(Rosaria) "Good, you're awake. I'm glad you're okay, but be more careful next time."
Rosaria's grip tightens on them before gently setting them back down if they could walk.
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What do you think happens when you kidnap God's girlfriend/boyfriend?
If you answered death, congratulations! You're right!
Ei on the inside is scared for their safety, but she knows that panicking will not make things better.
Instead, she goes out to rescue them personally while alerting the soldiers at her command to ensure no one escapes.
And to add extra insurance, she sends out the Shogun to find S/O as well, and to exterminate any offender with extreme prejudice.
The skies darkened and lightning split apart the clouds, striking at the entrance of the abandoned base.
The last thing S/O's kidnappers saw was a woman in purple, staring down at them with a katana held in her hand.
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROOOAAAAACHING
There was literally nothing left of the kidnappers to arrest or bury, so Ei casually walked up to S/O before untying their restraints.
(Ei) "I am glad to see you unharmed. Do you require any medical assistance?"
For the next month, Ei and the Shogun personally accompany S/O to wherever they needed to go.
Ensuring that if anyone was stupid enough to try it again, they got to see what they would be up against.
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EXTREME VIOLENCE
The red ropes on Shenhe is barely enough to contain the rage that swells within her at this very moment.
Someone dared to kidnap someone as loving and sweet as her S/O?
Thanks to them and the Traveler, she tries not to use violence as the answer to all her problems.
For this particular situation, Shenhe decides that violence will solve the problem that is the kidnapper's continued existence.
The very second she found out their location, she begins ripping and tearing through anything and anyone in the vicinity that she deemed was responsible.
The treasure hoarders that kidnapped them? Turned to ribbons.
The wooden doors trying to conceal them? In splinters.
That one Hilichurl sitting near the cliff minding its own business and not even realizing what was happening? It's now at the bottom of that cliff. (And if Shenhe didn't do it, you would've, you monster.)
Shenhe is absolutely stained red the moment she frees her S/O, her rage slowly subsiding at the sight of her lover.
(Shenhe) "I am here to rescue you, S/O."
Shenhe is almost super glued to their side from then on, never wanting to let them get hurt ever again.
And Archons help anyone who tried to again.
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Yelan figured something like this would happen. Her enemies would try to kidnap her S/O as a form of revenge or luring her out.
Unfortunately for them, Yelan had a contingency plan if something like this ever happened.
Informants are able to pinpoint the exact location S/O was being held with relative ease.
She infiltrates the building and without warning, her strings immediately sweep the kidnappers off their feet and left them dangling in the air.
(Yelan) "Not so fun when you're tied up, is it?"
Ignoring their shouting, she walks over to S/O and gives them a smile.
(Yelan) "Sorry for the wait. Dinner on me?"
She seems casual about the situation, but when they're out of earshot of everyone, she gives them a firm but gentle hug.
Yelan was no stranger to losing people she cared about, but she was glad she did not have to re-experience the feeling today.
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(Navia) *LOADS UMBRELLA WITH MALICIOUS INTENT*
Oh, perfect! Looks like S/O's kidnappers just volunteered themselves to be target practice!
Navia charges headfirst to wherever S/O is being held, not really worrying about the collateral damage other than S/O themselves.
Her bodyguards were able to find them quickly, and joined her in their rescue.
Navia lets all guns fly, making sure these punks would be taught a lesson they'd never forget.
NO ONE touches her darling, except for her!
When Navia finally gets S/O out, she has them in a near bone crushing hug, kissing them repeatedly on the face, being a bit too playful considering the situation.
But in private, she nearly breaks down crying as her hug on S/O tightens.
She was so afraid that they'd get hurt, or worse.
But she's thanking the gods above that they were unharmed.
The aftermath of the situation, Navia and her guards are almost stalking S/O. For their safety, of course.
Even though sometimes that safety has to be all three of them hiding behind a bush very conspicuously, even after S/O's insistence that they were fine.
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Sadly, this was not Lumine's first experience with a close person to her being kidnapped. Probably wasn't going to be the last either.
While she is worried for their safety, she has no doubt that they're going to get them out fine.
Lumine blitzes into the domain they're being held in and clears out everyone in her way with nearly blinding speed.
No one has a chance to even react as she effortlessly takes out every single attacker, making her way to them.
Finally after knocking out their kidnapper, she has the guards who she informed the kidnapping about make their arrests as she personally attends to S/O.
(Lumine) "You're not hurt are you?" sigh "Good. Come on, let's go home."
Lumine holds S/O's arm the entire time as they get enough distance from town, remaining silent.
She couldn't find her brother, and she didn't want to lose S/O as well.
Brightening up the mood a bit, Paimon appeared behind them.
(Paimon) "Why don't we have S/O stay with us at the Teapot for a while?"
Lumine makes it mandatory for S/O to sleep in the bedroom with her, and has Tubby or Paimon usually keeping an eye on them so she has some peace of mind.
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cepheustarot · 2 months
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What does fate have in store for you in the near future?
Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.
Paid readings
Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.
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Pile 1: Here fate will arrange for you to meet a person. It will be an unexpected meeting for you, since a person will literally appear suddenly out of nowhere but from the first days you will feel a strong connection with them, you will get very close to this person, you will open your soul to them, as they will open theirs to you, in general, emotional and personal conversations will be involved here. By themself the person is calm, perhaps they are not very emotional and in some places can behave as if they do not care but in fact it is not so! Person is very sensitive, prone to empathy, they are a good listener and you can say they generally like to listen more than talk. They may also be well versed in psychology or something similar, may have a lot of experience in terms of relationships between people. And although a person is very sensitive, still relies on logic and common sense, not allowing emotions to take over. In general fate organized this meeting for you to help you succeed in some area (mostly in terms of studies, finances, work) or if you had problems then they will help you solve them. It is also necessary for you to find support in it since now you may be in limbo and feel unstable or you constantly have situations that unsettle you.
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Pile 2: As I see it this option could be chosen by those who do not feel very well morally, you feel exhausted or you have been depressed lately, you may feel very tired, burnout, stress and all that sort of thing. You may also miss a lot of privacy, being alone and you may feel a lot of pressure from your family or people around you. Here you might not find the opportunity to relax or generally forget to rest because you were immersed in some kind of activity. So here fate, roughly speaking, will "force you" to take a break, perhaps your plans will be interrupted and you will be forced to spend time with yourself. Perhaps your loved ones will leave for other cities, places or will be too busy to meet you or vice versa you will have to leave for some reason.
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Pile 3: Here fate will give you a choice that cannot be abandoned, where there will be no third option and you will have to choose from what you have. In particular this choice is associated with some person dear to you, with whom you have known for a long time, communicate closely and in general you can have a very strong connection. It can be your close friend, your lover, your colleague, your partner with whom you work, etc. In particular here you will have to make a choice to continue communicating with this person or not, since your relationship has reached some kind of dead end and is not developing in any way, you may not feel the same warmth on his part, the same interest and it may seem to you that this person has changed. This choice is a turning point in your life or on your life path but in any case, thanks to this situation, you will be able to gain wisdom, become stronger, more experienced — in any case, all this will only be a plus for you even if it is hard or painful at the beginning, then everything will bear fruit in the end.
Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤
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aft3rhrs · 4 months
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— companionship ღ
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: strangers to lovers
warnings: yandere, jimin says hi <3, allusions to kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, threats of murder (not towards the reader), corruption, a tiny bit of voyeurism (?), jealousy, possessiveness, hinted bdsm, rough sex, spanking, choking, degradation, praise, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie
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How could someone be so cruel?
Frowning, Jimin picked up the crumpled sheet of paper and tried to smoothe it out with his thumbs. He should hang it back up. The weather was dreary, and he really doubted the tape stuck to it would hold with how the wind whistled, tugging at his hair.
The vibration in his pocket distracted him from his thoughts. He reached for his phone, barely glancing at the screen before answering the call.
"Hey," Jungkook greeted, "busy?"
"No, why?"
"Well, I need to get some stuff for Bam and his friend, but my car's still not fixed... Can you give me a ride? I won't be able to carry this shit home."
Jimin snorted.
"What the fuck are all these muscles for, then?"
"For girls to look at, hyung. What else?"
Rolling his eyes, he folded the damaged sheet and slipped it into his coat, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.
"You're so full of shit. Are you planning on buying the entire store?"
Either way, he was already fiddling with his keys. Jungkook chuckled on the line, because he knew.
"See you there."
Jimin sighed, hanging up to spare his already rigid fingers from freezing any further.
Jungkook hardly ever had to worry about finances, despite being a full time student. He already had Bam to take care of — and he loved to spoil him with the best food, toys and treats that stores had to offer. Lately, he's been talking about getting a new pet.
He stated that Bam could use a friend while he was stuck in college all day; and while Jimin could see his point, he didn't understand how Jungkook could possibly find the time to do his work, keep his social life in check and take care of two dogs. He's already been going out less, too busy with homework and too tired for their usual clubbing sessions.
It didn't really matter though, Jimin supposed. Jungkook wasn't anything if responsible, and maybe he didn't mind the quiet nights in.
As long as he was happy.
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Silence.
It's been three days, and Jungkook wasn't picking up his phone. They were supposed to meet for drinks tonight, unwind. Jimin waited for an hour before he downed another whiskey and left the pub.
They didn't talk every day, but getting completely ignored and stood up? That wasn't Jungkook's style.
Rather than frustration, it was concern that had Jimin driving up to his house. He has been getting so withdrawn lately. He did mention his assignments were taking a toll on him. Checking if he was okay was probably a good reason to use his emergency key, right?
That was what Jimin decided on anyway when he knocked and there was no answer.
He stepped in through the door uncertainly, scanning the living room. Nothing out of the ordinary. The light was on, too.
"Jungkook?"
Again, no answer.
Was he asleep?
Heaving a sigh, Jimin locked the door and started making his way up the stairs. When he reached the top, however, he paused promptly, a hushed voice reaching his ears.
Jungkook's voice, to be precise.
What the hell was he doing?
Annoyed, Jimin stalked towards his bedroom, the door before him opened no more than a few inches.
His hand almost grabbed the knob; his heart almost stopped.
The rest of his body followed, freezing. Cold spread throughout his ribs, his stomach, the frost webbing his bones.
He suddenly felt the weight of the folded sheet he found, abandoned and forgotten in the pocket of his coat; until this moment. Unconsciously, his fingers twitched, touching it.
There was Jungkook, crouched down on the floor, a leash in his hand, his nose almost brushing the one of his new pet.
His new pet... that looked exactly like the girl on the missing poster Jimin picked up on the street.
He eyed the opened cage he helped Jungkook bring in, the diamond collar around your neck.
He felt sick to his stomach, felt his palms start getting sweaty. The initial shock was slowly fading and alarms were going off inside his head. What the fuck.
"— you even understand when I'm talking to you?" Jungkook whispered, his jaw set as he tugged on your leash.
On all fours, like a tamed kitten, Jimin saw your body jerk forward and your lower lip quiver.
"What did I say about talking to Yoongi when he comes down? What did I say?" Jungkook snapped.
Yoongi? The dealer?
Jimin watched the scene in front of him unfold in horror. Jungkook was... some kind of disturbed creep. Did he ever really know him at all?
Finally it made sense why he stopped going out, why he was no longer interested in hook ups. Was he the one who ripped your poster off the pole...?
Jimin shivered. He had to help you. He had to make sure he remained unnoticed and get you out of there as soon as possible.
"It's not my fault he flirts with me," you suddenly whispered, meek.
He didn't miss the way Jungkook's thumb caressed your face, settling on your jaw.
"Do you want me to break his neck?" He breathed. "Do you want to spend another night in that fucking cage? Do you?"
Jimin took a careful step backwards. He needed some air. Needed to leave and throw up. Maybe calling the cops was a better idea than handling this alone.
"I'm sorry," you whined, nuzzling your captor's neck. "Please don't be mad at me, daddy. Please touch me."
Poor thing; you had to resort to complying with his depraved demands just to—
Wait a minute.
Jimin froze again, feeling his stomach twist and turn.
Did he hear you right?
He definitely heard Jungkook's breath hitch, and at that point he was moving intuitively, slowly backing out into the darkness of the corridor and losing sight of you. He couldn't bear to look anymore. There was something in your eyes that unsettled his soul.
"You want me to touch you?" He heard Jungkook ask, raspy. "Want me to fuck you?"
A moan.
Jimin took a deep breath and tried to keep his composure, cheeks hot and hands unsteady as he reached for the banister of the staircase.
Poor little thing, in love with the maniac who snatched her up one day and changed her life forever. He pretended he didn't hear the unbuckling of a belt, pretended the chills running down his back weren't making him dizzy.
Maybe your demeanor should have been a sign that you needed help more than he imagined. Somehow, though, he doubted you'd accept it. It looked like he discovered Jungkook's little secret too late; you couldn't be torn out from his claws now. Once the separation anxiety kicked in, you'd wither away.
No pet wanted to live without their owner.
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The collar was tight; it closed around your throat like a fist, tighter the harder Jungkook pulled. He took in the curve of your back, greedy eyes tracing down to where you were connected.
His cock throbbed as he watched it split you open, glistening with your slick. An inked hand dug into the supple flesh of your ass. You were so perfect, your whines music to his ears; somehow that only made his anger flare up.
"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, a slap, then another resounding through the room, leaving your skin hot.
He loosened his hold on the leash, then abandoned it altogether, gripping your hips to fuck you harder.
You fell forward, oxygen rushing back in and pussy tightening. His pretty little mess, sweat beading your body like morning dew glimmering on a flower.
"You wanna let another man flirt with you? You wanna be a little bitch?" He groaned. "Then shut the fuck up and take it like a bitch. Agh."
He threw his head back, blocking out the image of your ass bouncing as he slammed against it, the way your little hole swallowed his fat cock. It was too much to handle. The filthy sounds and the feeling of your cunt alone were enough to make his stomach burn, and he couldn't think straight anymore.
He just wanted to fill you up.
Again and again, while you drooled and panted, begging for more. Insatiable, just like him.
"Fuck," he gasped, "good slut."
You were close. His knees always weakened as you keened and tightened at the degrading praise, and he swallowed, no better than an animal himself as his cock rammed into you.
"Mine," he whimpered, his voice almost breaking. "Mmhm, gonna come—gonna keep you full—agh—here you go, baby—"
A heated shudder went through him, unraveling deep in his abdomen. Jungkook was never the one to break a promise, pumping his cum as deep inside as it would go while he moaned, letting your orgasm soak his cock completely.
"Fucck..."
Mine mine mine mine.
The only thing he knew, pulsing as the last drops of his seed shot out, leaving him blissfully empty. Of everything, except thoughts of you.
He caressed your sides, leaning down to press kisses to your spine. The hot trail ended right below your ear.
"If you ever talk to him again," Jungkook murmured sweetly, "you'll be sleeping in that cage next to his corpse. Understood?"
The little shiver of fear that ran through you was delightful. Jungkook kissed your neck, smiling when you nodded your head.
"Mm, yes daddy," you sighed out.
"Good girl."
You still needed some training, it seemed. But Jungkook had more than enough time and patience, and most importantly, he loved to remind you who you belonged to. It didn't take long for you to get it.
Jungkook would always take care of you. He would kill and die for you. There was no breaking that bond, not now, not ever.
This kind of companionship was meant for life.
taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @ar14dna @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @bnagtanx1306 @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111
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kquil · 11 months
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SIRIUS BLACK | HIS FUTURE WIFE
request : Hi, this is my first time requesting so I don't really know how 😅, but can you write something with Sirius being in love with reader and basically just like jily type of love where he always follows her and calls his future wife — @moonlightwonderland
length : 1.1k
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“There’s my girl,” Sirius grins, walking up to you with his arms open as if he was expecting a hug. 
“I’m not your girl, Sirius,” you huff, clutching your books closer to your chest and side stepping, avoiding his arms entirely. It’s been a year since Sirius Black has decided to pursue only you and abandoned his playboy persona. Now he was a committed man. His entire focus has zeroed in on you and you hate it. You hardly used to draw any attention but now, most of the female population at Hogwarts was glaring you down. It’s not your fault Sirius Black decided to turn over a new leaf and made you his primary objective; these girls need to stop making it seem like you forced Sirius to take amortentia. 
But, from the circumstances, you might as well have given him the love potion. He follows you around and does whatever he can to get your attention, even if he makes a fool of himself. He goes out of his way to buy and give you your favourite treats from Honeydukes and helpfully does your bidding wherever, whenever. It would have been a nice gesture when he brought down books from higher shelves for you that one time…if only he didn’t immediately demand a kiss as ‘thanks’ right after. He deserved being hit upside the head for that.   
You just want to be left alone so you wouldn’t have to worry about constantly being stared at by envious girls or gossiping teens who had nothing better to do with their time. 
“My future wife then,” Sirius’s boyish grin grows wider the instant you roll your eyes at him and stomp away, figuring a different route for your journey to class would help you avoid the rebellious teen. But Sirius is unrelenting, following after you with a skip in his step. 
“Stop following me, Sirius,” you groaned and quickened your pace but it was no use. His persistence is challenging and you eventually succumb to his irritable company. 
“But I don’t want to, wifey,” he protests. 
“Don’t call me that, and it doesn’t matter; I want you to leave me alone,‘ you counter. 
“No,”
“Yes,”
“No!”
“Yes!”
Your bickering is commonplace in the hallways and within classes now, although it’s more a legitimate argument for you and Sirius is just playing along. It truly was a mystery to everyone why the Sirius Black, notorious fuckboy and ladies man was suddenly abandoning all that for one girl. Only he knew the real reason. And it was frustrating, especially to you. He can’t just change everything about his mannerisms and force all that attention on you, his good looks, fun personality and enchanting eyes could only absolve him so much. You’d rather be dead before you ever confess that to him, though, it’ll only worsen your situation. 
You did have one saving grace, however. When classes were over, you could find peace and quiet down by the black lake, teetering on the borders of the forbidden forest. This was where you had met your year-long dearest friend, Snuffles. Injured and quivering from the cold, you nursed him back to health a year ago, abandoning your classes for the day so that you could make sure he got better. You knew that dogs weren’t allowed at Hogwarts so you didn’t want to risk anything by taking him to madam Pomfrey. Thankfully, his injuries weren’t too bad at the time and he just needed some company to care for him lovingly. 
“Hello handsome,” you smile upon seeing the familiar black dog through the trees of the forest. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he bounds over with enthusiastic barks and happy tail wags, “I’m happy to see you too boy!” kneeling down, you hug him around his neck and press kisses into his soft fur, “How are we today, hm?” as if he could understand you, Snuffles barks and sits before laying down to rest his head in your lap. 
Cooing at the large beast, you begin your usual pets as you delve into how your day was going, making small jokes and giving the occasional complaint over workload and stress build up. Snuffles gives a gentle whine as he paws at your thigh as if distressed over your worries and you smile warmly. He seems so human, someone that really cares about you and your wellbeing, it was nice to have. 
“Thank you for worrying about me Snuffles,” you muse softly, “but I’m really okay…so long as Sirius Black stays the hell away from me,” you huff in annoyance. It’s only natural that the conversation directs itself to the man in question as he’s made himself a prominent part of your days for the last year, “ugh! He’s so infuriating,” you frown down at the black dog still resting in your lap, “he won’t leave me alone no matter how much I tell him to. He’s been doing it for a year now and I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Today, he actually called me his future wife! What’s that about?!” you groan and push your head back. 
The sky is a pretty blue and you stare at it for a while before you continue, looking down when you feel a significant shift in Snuffles’s postion. The large black dog sits up and leans over to prop his head up on your shoulder and press his muzzle into your neck. He finds a sensitive spot and elicits a dulcet giggle from you, “if only he was as sweet and gentle as you, Snuffles,” you sigh, a small heat climbing up your neck and settling into your cheeks, “maybe then he could finally get me, just like he wants,” Snuffles pulls away and huffs, his version of a subtle sneeze. 
“Excuse you,” you tease, reaching up to scratch at the fur on his neck before you cup his face and bring his nose close so you could boop it with your own. 
“It’s a real shame, though,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around Snuffles’s neck once more and tucking your face into his fur, “his looks are exactly my type…”  Snuffles stiffens under your embrace but you don’t notice, “and he has some good personality traits too…if only he wasn’t so irritating,” there was a stutter in Snuffles’s movement when you lean back and pet his head softly, “you know, he started acting strange like this after I met you, Snuffles…I-” it was just a passing thought but there was a sudden realisation that slowly consumes your features, reflecting primarily in your eyes. It doesn’t help that the large dog before you slowly morphs into the man you were just complaining about. 
“Clever girl,” Sirius grins as he takes your chin in his fingers and pulls you in close, his breath ticking your lips as he continues to whisper, “I expect nothing less from my future wife,”
When he kisses you, sweet but amorously, you kiss back.
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a/n : my first request! lets go! i hope i did it justice darling, and i hope everybody enjoyed the read!
navi. | more oneshots
taglist : @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @tiensmamains @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @rosaleenablack
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ushiromiya · 7 months
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(madoka magica / rebellion spoilers below. TW: suicide and controlling behavior)
I don't know the direction in which walpurgisnacht rising will take homura's character but I can say with confidence that from at least where rebellion left off that I truly believe that homura made the decision that she felt was the most correct one even if it meant she had to become a monster in the eyes of every person that loved her. she felt that if things were left in the way the law of the cycle was currently running things that it was inevitable that kyubey would eventually capture madoka in her goddess form, study her, and use her to as a source for mass amounts of energy at the suffering of herself, the others within the law of the cycle, and magical girls at large again. this is something he explains very clearly when talking to homura before her transformation into homulilly.
I get so exhausted when I see people try characterize homura as an actually evil person with completely selfish desires and no regard for others. all of her actions, while not explicitly explained outright, when looked at closely always indicate that she does things out of her care for the other girls but feels like she bears the burden of having to do it alone because she believes she's the only one who doesn't let her emotions get in the way of protecting madoka and the others from kyubey and sometimes each other.
I will always use the scenes of her interactions with mami and sayaka in rebellion as huge examples of this. she has no reason not to kill them if she's a completely selfish and unemphatic person that only cares about madoka and no one else when given many opportunities to do so. I also don't personally think she keeps them around JUST because of madoka's happiness either. she very easily could have suppressed their roles in madoka's life with the world rewrite and clearly choose not to. I believe her mocking sayaka and acting in a clearly "evil" manner is deliberate acting on her part to frame herself as a villain. she might believe this would her actions more palatable and will create distance between herself and everyone else to protect them as well as allow her to assert more control in this situation. it is further emphasized how she truly feels with imagery displayed in homura's new world around herself (shoes abandoned on the side of a building to potentially indicate suicidal ideation, a half moon alluding to homura feeling unfulfilled and unhappy with this decision, her dancing around happily before stopping and slowly falling off the cliff side with a similar implication as the shoes).
homura's relationship with the others is incredibly complicated but she cares for them deeply too as they are also people she considers friends, she just had a particularly strong attachment to madoka. we don't get to see as many instances of her interacting with them as we do them interacting with each other as we are unfortunately only really privy to homura's life after she began looping for the most part but we can see it in the way she has expresses concern and distress for them in moments where she believes they are in real, tangible danger of being hurt (she's winces and tries to turn away when aiming for mami's leg and screams out when she believes mami is about to be truly harmed after their gun fight, which neither ever had the real intention of hitting one another with any of those bullets in the first place). her entire witch's labyrinth is one where everyone is happy and gets the lives they desire. why would her labyrinth, which is meant to reflect in-part her inner feelings and desires, appear that way if she didn't truly want that for everyone?
rebellion is so compelling to me for all of this and so much more!! (I could write a whole other post on the way it presents it's freedom with danger vs control with safety question at the end of the film) she is a girl who has repeatedly suffered incredibly traumatizing events and longs for a world where the person she loves and the friends she considers dear are safe. homura is not really the devil, but she wants to appear to be because being the devil would be easier than being a human being in these circumstances.
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sleyu · 9 months
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all i everrrr think abt is post argument over something like reader being too close to a male friend and reader being oblivious to it, n ron being lowk a lil mean abt it but he ends up feeling badd w makeup sexxxx after & soft cuddly ronn
nooo because i just saw a tik tok about this exact scenario (it was the harry potter boys react to videos<3) where you wake up late for class, and ron, who’s already sitting in the classroom waiting for you, wondering where the actual hell you are, sees you walk in late with another boy who just so happened to be late as well.
buttttt we all know ron and how jealous he can get. his jealousy prevents him from abandoning any form of reason and he automatically becomes suspicious and assumes that there’s something going on between you and that guy. you sit down beside him and before you can even smile or say ‘hi,’ to your flushed boyfriend, he immediately pulls you close and whispers, ‘who the fuck was that and why’d you both come in late.’
actually, you’d be lucky if ron actually communicated his curiosity and jealousy, because the more likely scenario would be him brushing you off and rolling his eyes every time you’d speak to him. and you would be so confused :( you woke up late, didn’t get to have breakfast or kiss your boyfriend good morning, and now he’s being a big fat meanie ? the atmosphere in the room where the two of you would be together would be simply tense. ron would either glare at you, and when he relieved you of his scowling, he’d begin glower menacingly at the boy who walked with you to class.
he genuinely doesn’t care about the idea of it being a mere coincidence if he was already in a bad mood. he gets sooo possessive, especially when he gets regularly taunted by the slytherin’s for literally everything, but ever since the two of you began dating, he just feels extra threatened and is scared that someone is gonna steal you away :( the thought of some guy even being within 5m radius to you is enough to make his blood boil and his cheeks flush.
eventually, he gets soooo antsy that he corners you in an empty corridor and demands you to tell him who he was and why you would miss your daily walks to walk in with some other guy. what’s nice about ron is that it doesn’t take much to reassure him on the spot. all you really have to do his wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tiptoes, emphasizing his height, and press a soft, loving kiss to his lips. your doe eyes, combined with a cute little pout on your lips, plus the slight tilt of your head in confusion is enough to have him apologizing for how he acted throughout the day :(
‘i’m sorry, love, it’s just—ah—i’m tense and—uh—i really missed you this morning,’ i’m sorry but he can’t communicate for shit so it’s better to just cut him off with a kiss and let him express his sorry to you physically.
hhh makeup sex with ron is so good because even after making up with him, even after all the apologies and reassuring, each thrust of his hips feels so territorial, as if he’s trying to engrave himself inside you, claiming you for himself. even though he whispers that he’s sorry and that he’ll try his best to control his feelings next time, you can still tell that the way he’s pounding into you is almost as if he’s trying to prove a point: that you’re no one else’s but his and that nothing in the world could take you away from him.
he’d groan in your ears, slow his pace to kiss you on the lips, ‘all mine, yeah? you’re all for me, y/n, aren’t you?’ HHHH
he hates himself for it, but he gets such a kick out of how small you look and how big you make him feel as he’s fucking you. your mewls, the way your eyebrows furrow, as if you’re almost overwhelmed by his size and each rut boosts his ego to the max and only makes him want to fuck you harder :( you just looks so pretty and ronald weasley is a firm believer in the fact that pretty girls deserved to get fucked well !
and you best believe, he’s leaving hickeys all over you. maybe not in places where other people can see (despite however much he wants to show the world that your his, he knows he’ll never hear the end of it if the twins or anyone else caught sight of the marks he left on you), but all over your breasts and inner thighs. it gets him going that he’s the only one who will ever get to leave marks in those places.
and let’s not forget his big finale. you best believe that after some good makeup sex, he is definitely cumming inside you. ron’s breeding kink is something we can discuss next time, but seeing his cum drip out of your abused, swollen cunt is the icing on the cake for him. as said in my previous ron fic, it completely solidifies and affirms the fact that he’s the only one who will ever be able to do that, and in years time, he dreams of getting you pregnant with his children to show the world that you’re his forever </3
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griffin-girl-r · 6 months
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You're not mine (Part 1)
Created: 08.10.2023
Finished: 08.10.2023
Edited: 08.10.2023
Age: 15
Word count: 1,344
Warnings: Abandonment, Child neglecting, Self harm, Blood, Blade, Arguments, Screaming, Child favoritism
Note: Please proceed with caution if you're triggered by any of the warnings above.
Request: Yes (Wattpad user) (@herospark18)
Pairing: WinterWidow
Summary: Natasha adopted you from the Red Room when you were only a baby, but when she and Bucky had their own child, she started forgetting about you.
Part 2
"I hate you!" You shouted, slamming the door behind you
"Y/N, we're not done!" Natasha, your mother, shouted from downstairs "Get back here!"
This was a daily occurrence by now.
The, once nonexistent, daily arguments between you and Natasha only got worse over the years.
Although Natasha isn't your biological mother, she raised you like her own after she saved you from the Red Room.
You were only 2 months old when she adopted you and everything went well. You both formed a happy little family for a while.
That was until Natasha started dating Bucky a little after your 10th birthday and she slowly started spending less and less time with you.
But not Bucky was the factor that determined your mother-daughter relationship with Natasha to drift apart.
The main reason behind everything was your 5-year-old baby sister, Tanya, who came into the world a few months after Natasha and Bucky started dating, with a little bit of help from Tony and his technology that, nowadays, seems to defy all odds.
Tanya's arrival only strengthened the bond between her parents, who had a romantic history that started years before even you were born, and, at the same time, weakened the bond between you and Natasha.
You knew the drill by now.
'Tanya is perfect.'
'Tanya is ours.'
'Tanya is innocent.'
Their voices echoed in your brain like a broken record.
Tanya knows that she can get away with everything and Tanya does get away with everything.
Since her birth, it was as if Natasha had completely forgotten about your existence.
It began by ignoring you while she focused her attention solely on Tanya.
She wouldn't feed you anymore, wake you up for school, or cuddle you at night.
She didn't even notice that you changed.
But, how could she, when Tanya was everything she noticed?
You stared at yourself in the mirror.
Determination was etched on your pale face as you picked up the blade that was on your sink.
It became a relief for you.
Sliding that blade on your wrist helped you forget about the unbearable pain in your chest.
The crimson blood that was pooling from the cuts held your attention. The pain of being abandoned by two different mothers was momentarily shoved at the back of your mind.
You started harming yourself 2 years ago when you couldn't take Natasha's ignorance any more.
You haven't told anyone and it's not like they would care if they knew anyways. Tanya was the center of their world, not you.
She was the perfect baby, while you were the adopted bastard and a grand mistake that Natasha made.
Natasha never admitted it out loud but you understood the message from the way she was treating you.
The blade fell down from your hand into the sink.
'Is it all because she never gave birth to me?'
And you stared at the trail of blood it left on the white sink.
'Are adopted kids not important, just because they're not blood related?'
You slowly understood.
'Will I ever be treated the same as Tanya?'
The only one left to understand was Natasha.
"Y/N, do you want to play with my dolls later?" Tanya asked you a few hours later, during dinner
You pulled at the sleeves of your hoodie even more, hiding your hands inside of them.
"Sure, Tatu." You gave the small child a shy smile "I think I'd like that."
"Tatiana." Natasha sternly looked at Tanya but the tone of her voice was soft "Remember we have a movie night tonight. You can play with Y/N another time."
"Can Y/N come too?" Tanya's big, innocent eyes sparkled while she asked, as Natasha refilled the girl's glass of orange juice
"I think she has more important things to do." Natasha replied, not even bothering to ask what you want "We're going to have a mother-daughter night. It's going to be just us two, sweetheart. Wouldn't it be fun?"
"Yay!" Tanya cheered, throwing her arms in the air
But as she did, she accidentally knocked over the glass filled with juice.
"Oh oh..." Tanya said, looking at the spilled juice "Sorry, Mama."
"Don't worry, baby girl." Natasha smiled, sitting up to clean the mess "Accidents happen."
"That's not what you said the last time when I accidentally knocked over my glass of water." You bitterly spat out at Natasha
"You have no right to talk, Y/N." Natasha snapped at you "Shut up!"
"Natalia, honey, calm down." Bucky, who was sitting beside Natasha, put his hand on her arm "She didn't do anything wrong. She's just a kid."
"She's not a kid, James." Natasha shouted, turning her head in Bucky's direction "She's a grown-up teenager now."
"Talia, I think you are just overreacting right now." Bucky kept trying to calm his wife, sparing a glance in your direction
He looked down at your plate that was untouched, the effect of your lack of appetite obvious on your skinny and fragile frame.
"I think I'm full." You quickly sat up from the table
"Sit back down, right in this instance, Y/N." Natasha shouted at you "You don't disrespect your mother like that and get away with it."
"Well, lately, you didn't act like a mother at all." You shouted back at Natasha, pain evident in your voice, but Natasha was oblivious to it "All you care about is Tanya."
"Because she's my child!" Natasha screamed offended "It's only normal to care for her."
"I used to be your child as well!" You shouted, tears forming in your eyes "I still am your child."
"You're not mine!" Natasha shouted and you widened your eyes shocked "You're not anything to me! You aren't my child because you don't have my blood. I didn't carry you or feel you grow day by day inside of me. But with Tanya, I did. You are just a mistake, Y/N!"
"You are the mistake here, Mom!" You cried, slightly lifting your sleeves as Bucky's eyebrows shot in his hairline "Look!" You showed your scarred wrists to the woman "This is all because of you! Why can't you love me like any mother should do? Blood shouldn't be important! You raised me, Natasha."
Bucky reached his metal arm slowly towards your extended arms to inspect your wrists but he was pushed aside by Natasha, who blocked out the fact that you were hurting because of her and ignored the truth, her intrusive thoughts winning as she said something she would never be able to take back.
"You were never truly a part of this family, Y/N!" Natasha shouted "Get that in your head. You are not our blood and you will never be. I saved you because I thought that you would change but I see that you didn't. You are the same. But I did change. I am not the same Natasha that I was in the Red Room. I am better."
Shaking your head, you took a few steps backward.
"I can't believe you." You whispered in disbelief
"Y/N..." Bucky breathed out, sitting up from his chair "Don't listen to your mother, she's just tired. She didn't mean what she said."
"She knew damn well what she was saying." You kept shaking your head, a lone tear falling down your cheek
"Then get that in your head once and for all." Natasha shouted once more, stubbornly fixated on her wrong belief that she was right
"I hate you!" You shouted at Natasha "I wish you never rescued me from the Red Room!"
And with that, you stormed out of the house and ran into the veil of darkness provided by the night.
Bucky tried to run after you but it was too late.
He found no sight of you or any clue where you might have run away to.
Bucky walked inside the house and looked at Natasha who was still oblivious to the damage she had done and muttered one question.
"What have you done?!"
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apomaro-mellow · 17 days
Text
I wanted to write church fucking again but it turned more into church love-making
Steve was long past caring if anyone heard them. The only thing on his mind was taking Eddie deeper and deeper. This place was built with Eddie's money anyway. And it wasn't really a building to practice any religion known to man. As Eddie had put it, the first and only thing being worshipped here was them and their love.
And to Steve there was honestly nothing more sacred.
-------------------
"Do we really need to do the separation thing?", Eddie asked. He didn't whine. He definitely wasn't whining as Steve packed his bag.
"We're only doing like 5 traditional things for our wedding and this is one of them", Steve said, zipping up a duffel bag.
He gave Eddie a kiss on the lips, one that was too short considering he wouldn't even be seeing him for another twenty-four hours, let alone kiss him again. He chased after Steve's lips only to have his beloved pull back.
"You're going to make me late. Robin's already honked once", Steve said.
"Mmm, she can come up and rip you from my arms if she wants you so bad", Eddie said, pulling Steve into his hold and falling back against the bed.
"You know she will. And she'll have the spray bottle and everything", Steve warned, but doing nothing to stop Eddie from groping his behind.
Steve was able to break away before Robin got pushed to that point and leave to stay at her place until the wedding. Eddie let out a sigh that was equal parts dreamy and forlorn. He did his best to keep his mind off of not being around Steve and his friends had the ultimate bachelor party planned. But he couldn't help but think at times how much nicer it would be with his Stevie there.
"Technically we're both bachelors, so we could've had the same party", Eddie reasoned.
The others wouldn't hear it and kept him sufficiently busy until they all passed out around 3 am. At 5 am, Eddie woke up walked over to the church. He took out his key and unlocked the door. Inside was completely empty. But Eddie had saw to the renovations himself to make sure it was up to par.
He sat in the first pew and let out a sigh. In just a few hours, he and Steve would be standing in front of this altar, vowing themselves to each other. Eddie would have done it anywhere, the courthouse, a friend's backyard, their sacred bedroom. But Steve's upbringing wouldn't allow him anything less than a church. Thankfully, Eddie had enough 'fuck-you' money to find an abandoned one and have it built back up just for the two of them. And perhaps any other queer that wanted an unofficial ceremony.
Eddie himself rarely looked to Jesus for answers and was just about to ask what he was even doing here when the doors opened again. And who should walk through it but the answers to any question he ever had.
"Eddie? What are you doing here?"
"Awaiting salvation. And here you are", Eddie smiled. "What are you doing here?"
"Searching for...well, for you, I guess", Steve said as he walked down the aisle and took a seat in the same pew as Eddie. But at a distance for polite friends and not two men who were getting married in a few hours and already knew each others bodies.
"Why are you all the way over there?", Eddie smirked. "You think we need a chaperone or something."
"I came to get a moment of peace and quiet before the storm today is going to be", Steve said. "And you are anything but peaceful and quiet."
"You just said you were searching for me?"
"I meant that sometimes searching for one thing can bring you another." Steve smiled as he shook his head a little, a memory coming back to him. "My mom always said 'when you ask God for patience, he doesn't give you patience. He gives you a situation where you need to be patient'."
"You sure your mom wasn't praying to a genie? Or a monkey's paw?"
"I'm just saying that I came to a church for peace and instead, I see my fiance."
Eddie scooted closer to Steve. "Sounds to me like His Mighty Heavenliness is throwing down a challenge. Can you be quiet around me Steve?"
Steve knew he couldn't. And Eddie knew he couldn't. Nor would his fiance's big ego even allow Steve to even attempt to be quiet. Eddie wouldn't stop until this place was filled with his echoes. But he held steady.
"There's not even a comfortable place to do it", he said.
To which, Eddie jumped up and went over to the altar, normally it would have a cloth draped over it, but when Eddie pressed down, there was a bit of give, like it was cushioned. Steve didn't even have the presence of mind to ask why because Eddie was already palming himself through his pants, beckoning Steve over with a finger.
Let it be known that marriage didn't stop Steve from being a slut. It was just reserved for his groom-to-be.
So he loved on Eddie and let Eddie love on him, in an embrace that felt more rapturous than any praise he'd given in a church. This was what ecstasy was. Steve knew deep in his soul that he was born for this, to share this with Eddie.
Hours later, dressed to the nines and promising themselves to each other in front of an audience, Steve couldn't stop thinking about his body draped over the altar. Eddie had said more than once that he worshipped Steve's body but the same was true for him. When Eddie slipped the ring onto his finger and kissed him, Steve felt like he was being smiled on by Heaven.
A man like this loving and promising eternity, how could be anything less than a blessing?
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suchawrathfullamb · 2 months
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One thing I don't get is how can some fans see and write Hannibal as protective or caring of Will? He never cared about Will's safety, he has done so much damage to Will's body, it's out of character that he'd suddenly care...I don't know, I just feel like it's wishful thinking of shippers. I ship them too but I'm not delusional about Hannibal...He would still hurt Will in season 4 and I hate when fics write him as if he gives a fuck about Will's well being.
Oh wow. Okay.
Hannibal has known pain in a way most people around him have not. He has known cold, hunger, loss, abandonment, violence and death and god knows what else. All of this before his rational mind was fully developed, which essentially means his mind was shaped through those experiences. That's what it's ingrained in him, regardless of anything else, even the luxurious and opulent life he built for himself years later.
"God" throws his seeds in the air, violently, and they scatter everywhere. Some fall on fertile soil, and grow to become beautiful, strong trees. Some fall on rocky ground and don't yield any fruits. And some fall on thorns, and those thorns choke them. God is ruthless and careless, but not all of his seeds become the byproduct of his violence. But some do. That's just the way it is.
So the first part of this answer is not an attempt to justify Hannibal's behavior, but simply put it into context. No, he didn't have to punish the world for his own suffering. But he chose to do so. Well, I personally don't believe it's a choice, per se, but more of an illusion of choice. People tend to think they are always choosing how to act, but digging into human psyche, you'd find that no, you never had a choice. Free will is an illusion. The reasons behind your behavior go way back, to places you cannot reach. But that's besides the point.
So, again, don't take this as a justification. Hannibal is what he is, and does what he does.
Hannibal found himself at the mercy of a merciless, careless, amoral God, in his formative years. And so he mirrored that God, "can't beat them, join them" sort of deal. If God is careless, so will he be, if God is amoral, then so will he be. If He gives and takes as he pleases, then so will him. If he delights in bloodshed, then so will him. He won't try to please God, he will please himself. He won't worship God, he will worship pleasure, because it is the antithesis of what he feels. We worship that which we desire to experience, or that which we perceive as the opposite of what we're trying to escape from, the remedy for our specific wound. if you fear death, worship him, the one who conquered it and rose victorious above it. Or if you fear your own desires, the same one offers you to be cleanse of those things you perceive as shameful. Whatever you fear, there's a God for you.
And Hannibal's God, at least for most of his life, would become the big P's: Pleasure and Power. It's only a little funny that in order to experience one, you need to let go of the other, at least to some degree.
Hannibal is so afraid of the pain and vulnerability he felt, having perceived it as lethal, that he learned how to remain in absolute control of himself and his environment. He was, in his mind, unaffected by God. You can't hurt him, because he does not expect You not to. In fact, he expects the worst out of You.
He collects church collapses to remind himself that God does not care, since He is destroying his dedicated worshippers. To remind himself of how little his own destructions matter, how small they are, compared to God's.
So, play a little Will Graham here and see through his mind. Walk in his shoe and see. If you do so, you'll never think that him caring about Will is out of character because he hurts him.
Will did something to Hannibal that only God was able to. He made him vulnerable, made him feel out of control. Not even his sister was able to fully accomplish that. Hannibal loved Mischa, but he ate her to prove to himself (and to God), that he was beyond love. That even if he loved, he was still stronger than that feeling. That it wouldn't overpower him. Our NBC Hannibal didn't eat Mischa because he had to. He ate her to forgive her, for making him love her. "I forgive you for being so lovely, and now I will consume you to dominate this weakness". He wasn't able to do that to Will, and he wasn't going to. Bryan Fuller has confirmed he wasn't going to go through with it in the head sawing scene. No matter how hard he tries, Will always conquers him.
Imagine what this must feel like for Hannibal. He had the will to eat his sister. God took her away from him, violently, and he was still capable of defying Him by willingly consuming her, "you do what you will, but I'm still stronger, you are not capable of destroying me, look what I can do with the pain you give me". It's as if Hannibal sees God as a ruthless father who keeps testing him, over and over again. Beating him in the face, repeatedly, and all he needs to do is take it, bloody and smiling, as if he's enjoying it, as if God's intention of causing pain is futile. Does that evoke a certain scene from the show in your memory?
Hannibal finds some people slightly interesting, some disposable, some inconvenient, and most boring. He sees them as weak, mostly. They haven't endured what he has, they complain about things that are frivolous to him, they care about things that don't matter to him, and mostly, they would never relate to him, to his view of life. They'd be scared, or disgusted by him. He knows he's a monster in most people's perspective. Does he see himself as a monster? He tries not to. He looks at his church collapses whenever he feels this thought creeping inside his head. Yes, of course he sees himself as a monster. But he works very hard to argue against that...After all, God is so much worse.
Arrogance is not a an actual belief of superiority. It's just a mask for a deep feeling of inadequacy. It's an overcompensation. He has learned, from the way he was raised, and the type of people around him, that politeness and etiquette are signs of dominance, and most importantly, the opposite of what most tend to consider ugliness and brutality. Someone harmed him very gently. A nice and friendly person. No one believed him. And so, he learned the best character to play was this exact one.
I could be wrong, this isn't canon, it's just the most obvious explanation. But regardless if Hannibal is the way he is independently of the trauma, as Mads stated, that doesn't mean he didn't adapt, evolve, become. I already established that I do not think he is the way he is because of his trauma, I'm still going along with canon. But I see him as just one of God's little seeds that didn't fall on good soil. But he's still a human being, regardless if he's the incarnation of Satan, he's still incarnated, literally meaning born in flesh. He still has a linear story, a way of becoming, of flourishing (or withering) in a manner that his thorns could rise from his skin and harm others, even if they were there all along.
Punishing "the rude" is a way of justifying his own motives. Can't kill other killers, that would be hypocritical of him, he's not trying to be a vigilante, he's beyond that. Can't kill people who remind him of those who harmed in the past, that would be vindictive of him, therefore a display of weakness, as if he's still affected by them. So? Kill whoever is rude, disrespectful, unrefined out of pettiness. It's petulant and it is flippant (in most cases, that homophobic medical consultant may or may not had it coming, I didn't say it, you did), but it's the only reason he found. Other killers may kill because they can, because whatever. Hannibal needed to justify it to himself, in a way that still put him in a position of power. Again, vengeance or vigilance is too affective to his liking. He doesn't like playing good or bad. He just likes playing.
Here comes Will Graham with his rude, dismissive, agitated, grumpy and messy behavior. He's arrogant, he's childish, he lacks control of himself, yet everyone sees him as innocent, pure, genuine. What a punch to the stomach. Hannibal has to try so hard to be seen as innocent. And there goes this mongoose, acting all crazy and everybody treats him like an injured puppy. But he's just like Hannibal, he has thorns peaking out of his back, forcing their way out. And he's still able to be perceived as innocent? Oh no. Not on Hannibal's watch. So he turns people against him.
Hannibal's very aware of how Will affects people around him. He knew Alana liked him, he even told Will in the first episode, in the breakfast scene, but they cut the line out. He wanted to know if Will liked her back, but was dismissed. He tells him how Jack sees him as fragile, tells Alana they have Will dressed in moral dignity, pants, "nothing is his fault". He's very aware of how Will is able to evoke this type of unconditional compassion.
But then it affects him.
He wasn't expecting it, he was surely not prepared for it. All he knew was to hurt. Eat him like he did his sister. Hannibal realized his feelings were deepening in the opera episode, the singer who played that part (of the opera singer) said she chose the aria specifically for this, because it was like Hannibal was realizing he had a heart. He cried. Later on, Will told him he kissed Alana and that his connection to the killer, Tobias, was getting stronger ("it's our song"). This affects Hannibal in a way that disturbs him, and so he acts impulsively and sends Will to Tobias. "I do not care about him, see?". Denial.
What a shocker when he has to face the truth that he does, in fact, care. He looks defeated, and submissive in that scene ("I was worried you were dead"), even their physical positions mirrors that...But, "I got here on my own", he insists on remarking, after Will says he feels like he dragged Hannibal into his world. No. You didn't. I am here because I chose to be. I am still in control.
After that, he cannot lie to himself any longer, he knew what he felt when he thought he had lost Will. And so, it only got worse from that point on. Now, he was aware of his feelings and actively fighting them. All of his actions were an attempt to eradicate Will, as a way to eradicate his feelings towards him, to prove to himself that he can still overpower his feelings, "see? I can still do what I want with you, my feelings for you do not stop me". And Will rejects him for the first time, in that kitchen. And he still loves him. How infuriating. So he decides, "No, I will not jeopardize my own freedom for you." Anger.
When he saw Will in prison for the first time, you could almost see the exhilaration in his eyes. To cage the one who controls you, how divine of a feeling. He is elated. At first.
It seems that it takes Hannibal a few shocks to realize that he does care, a lot, about Will. And so he realizes that, once more. And needs to deal with it...Again. Meanwhile his inner world is spinning out of control, it is becoming a grand, beautiful mess, and he cannot stop himself, even though he is trying very hard to.
Bedelia brings him to awareness by telling him he's obsessed. "I'm intrigued", he tries, mostly to himself. Obsessed? Him? No, it can't be. Nobody is capable of doing this to him. Obsession indicates a lack of control, the incapacity to take one's mind off of a subject. Just imagine the war he was battling inside himself.
When Will tries to kill him (by proxy) he is as satisfied as he is hurt. Satisfied because he was right, Will is a killer. Hurt because he did almost die. The night he lets Alana kiss him and decides to engage with her, it's the night Jack made it clear Hannibal was a suspect. He felt alone without Will, and Alana made him feel less alone, "walking away what does that leaves us with?", he asks, "each other", she says. He does appreciate her, even if she doesn't truly see him and when she eventually does, she's afraid, she's still better than nothing, and convenient for his alibi. But it's more than that. This is the woman who had (has) feelings for Will, and those feelings seemed to be reciprocated, at least to some extent and at some point. Having her is like conquering Will in a petty way. "She rejected you. You rejected me. Now we're together", it says.
But he still sees potential in Will, in their union, and he still cannot deal with the ache of being without him. And so he finds a way to get him back, let his bird out of the cage, unbound, even if it means danger. He's so lost in his feelings that he allows himself to be deluded, to believe, to open himself up. And even after realizing the betrayal, he still couldn't let go, and offered his carefully crafted life, up, "we could disappear tonight". And when Will says "you were supposed to leave", he doesn't interpret it as protection, he hears it as rejection. Again. He did the same thing to Hobbs, not because he cared, but because he wanted to. He doesn't think Will did that because he cares, at most, he thinks he did because he felt guilty for lying. But mostly, this is Will rejecting him again. He is devastatingly hurt, and Will stands like God, so cold, so cruel. But at least you have a body, so I'll hurt your body, since I can't hurt your feelings, apparently. "You think you can change me?", denial, "I already did," the truth, spitting on his face. So he ends Abigail, because to Hannibal, Will cared about her, he protected her, he had compassion for her. But not him, so she will be Will's pain. "No, you haven't changed me. See? I'm still the monster". The monster he tries to convince himself he isn't, the monster he tried to show Will he wasn't, but Will didn't want that gift. That burden, that curse. But he'll call it a gift, to make himself feel better. After all, he's so much better than everyone else and seeing him in all his truth is such an honor...Isn't it?
He knows Will is right, even if he kills Abigail to prove a point, in his mind, he knows he's right (the script says so). So really, there is no point in denying anymore. But can still move on, overcompensating for the dark, endless pit in his soul, with opulence and a smile. Until Will comes to him, and once again, he cannot handle himself, and he's at it again, acting completely reckless and out of control.
"I forgive you", hope. Then Will tries to kill/harm him. And he's so done. With everything. Everything. How many times will Will Graham shake him out of his center, ruin his sense of self, spin him out of control, play him, hurt him? Leave him? No more, that's how many. He's done. He's ending it. And he knows he won't live without him. He's so deranged in that scene, so...Out of it, almost uncharacteristically insane. Consuming his God, finally. "I'll do this, so the pain will stop," he bargains.
Then, he would most likely end himself indirectly after that. After all, "suicide is the enemy", but letting himself get caught after a lifetime of expertly evading it, isn't the same now, is it? Of course not. Surrendering to the authorities even though you are certain you'll get the death penalty isn't the same as suicide, of course not. Refuting your insanity plea that saved you from getting the death penalty also isn't suicide, of course not. Not at all. Neither is allowing God to throw you off the cliff, even though you made it very clear that you were aware of His intentions.
Hannibal Lecter loves Will Graham to the point of insanity. He hurts him out of insanity, out of the inability to surrender to his love. When he finally does, he regrets what he did to Will. He's so insanely filled with regret he tries to reverse time. He's acting maniacally, and then he's rejected again. And just...Gives up. Accepts it. "He knew Will would come back, it was just another manipulation"...He gave up his freedom and risked his life just to be petty? Sure. You tell yourself that cause it's exactly what he'd rather you believe in.
At the end, he looks at a weapon and considers hurting Will, but he can't. He knows Dolarhyde is watching. Knows where he is. Will tells him he doesn't think he can save himself, and maybe that's okay. Hannibal clocks him right there, and his compassion for Will is inconvenient as he steps in front of him and takes the bullet. It's inconvenient when he allows Will to pull them off the cliff just to be able to hold him, even if it's for first and last time, because he'd rather die than live without him.
After all, how do you leave without your God once you've been graced by His glory?
So no. I don't this logic makes sense, anon. You're interpreting Hannibal as a person who follows one logic, when he in fact, "follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any". And one of the trains is love.
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berryunho · 3 months
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THE ANSWER: XXVII
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Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3
← previous || next → || masterlist chapter word count: 8,561
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You take in San’s words, blinking aggressively. You pull your face away from his, your questions clear from your expression.
San squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look at you for too long. “I can’t explain it now. Or, well, I’ll explain it all soon, but we need to leave.”
“Leave? Like, the farm?” You question, your words coming faster than you can control them. “What? San? Did something happen?” 
He opens his eyes, then, staring into yours. The pain is evident in his face, his internal struggle still battling. 
“After today, I can’t predict what Hongjoong will do to get you to break.” San admits, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s going to hurt you, and if he can’t, he’ll kill you.” 
“What happened to you, San?” You ask, more concerned by his disheveled appearance than by the revelation of the thoughts that you’ve had hundreds of times. 
He shakes his head. “It’s not important, I promise. I’m fine.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “How do you feel?” 
“I’m fine, San, just shaken up, I guess. Do you know how Hongjoong did that?” 
His hands squeeze your forearms tighter, gripping you like he’s going to lose you. “I have no idea. But if he’s willing to go this far, I… fuck, I can’t believe it. I have to get you away from this.” 
You can only gape at him. You can’t believe that San is saying these things to you. San had always been so loyal to Hongjoong, even leading up to the very moments before the ceremony. What could possibly have made him flip his entire script so quickly? 
It’s almost touching to realize how much San must care for you. If he’s willing to abandon this for you… Fuck. 
“San, when can we go?” You try to not sound so eager, but the prospect of getting away is so sweet. 
He presses a kiss to your forehead before replying. “I have to think on it, but I swear that it will be soon. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to figure it out.” 
You want to ask what it is that he’s figured out or what made him realize, but that sits in the backseat compared to the thought that suddenly rises to the forefront of your mind. “What about Haseul? And Mingi?” 
San freezes, still searching your face. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, but no words come out. 
“San?” 
“I,” he pauses, biting his lip, “I’ll have to think about it more. We might have to come back for them.” 
You don’t like that idea, but you had thought it yourself a few times before. It would be a lot easier to get yourself out and come back with people that could actually stand a chance against this group rather than try and sneak out with someone else, risking all of your lives in the process. 
“Just trust me, yeah?” He smiles, letting go of your arms to readjust his shirt. 
You nod, throwing the blanket off of your legs. This is as good of a time as any to get out of the infirmary. Whatever had been going on with San, they must not care too much if you’re back with him considering the fact that he’s here now. 
Once San is reassembled, he offers you his hand again, helping you stand as you swing your legs off the bed. The two of you leave the room, passing by Nayeon as you walk down the hallway. She waves, smiling while you go. 
San drops your hand once you’re outside, but keeps one on the small of your back. He could reasonably pass that off as just helping you stay upright. 
By now, it’s mid-morning, almost 11. The sun is high and the fields— 
For the first time since you had arrived at the farm, you saw the farm equipment actually being put to use. A huge combine harvester moves through the field, still relatively close to the barn. You’re awestruck to actually see work being done, amazed that the time has passed so quickly. 
You halt in your tracks, lifting a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun so that you can watch the machine move. It doesn’t move particularly fast, but, by God, is it freaky looking. You wouldn’t want that thing coming to run you down, that’s for sure.
Which only reminds you of the time that you had tried to escape. And then resorted to hiding in the corn. 
When all of the corn is harvested, how will this place look? Barren. Cold. You don’t want to picture it; all that land with nowhere to hide. Will you even have to see it? Maybe you’ll be gone by then. 
A waving figure catches your eye off in the distance. You’re easily able to identify Yeosang once you look fully at him, and you raise your hand back in greeting, having to squint your eyes against the sun. 
San doesn’t wave back, instead ushering you to turn back toward the compound and keep moving. 
“Are we in a rush?” You ask, allowing him to steer you toward the door. 
San glances around, “I wouldn’t say that. But I’d feel better if we were alone in our apartment.” 
Well, okay, you guess. You would think that it would be a bit suspicious if you both suddenly started acting differently, but it’ll probably be okay for right now. At least until you can talk to San about everything. 
You head inside, trying to walk to the stairs. But you’re stopped before either of you can make the first step, a voice calling your name behind you.
It’s Wooyoung, you realize, before you even turn around to face him. 
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” 
You glare across the foyer at him, wondering what kind of nerve this kid must have to be talking to you like you’re best friends again. 
He has a point, though. You turn your attention to your stomach, but you’re not surprised that the general sense of nausea and unease still lingers there; nothing like hunger. “I’m not hungry.” 
You know better than to directly accuse him of drugging you again. You really don’t know if he did… it’s possible that he didn’t. But, really, looking back on it… Ugh, you’ll just ask San later. He had already told you what he thought, but… you don’t know. Just, whatever. 
Wooyoung squints, a flat expression on his face. “Are you feeling alright after everything? Not just anyone can say they stood down a Guardian.” 
That’s really rich, coming from Wooyoung, you have to admit. The guy that basically told you that you need to accept your role in this place because he isn’t happy with his, either. Maybe he’s trying to sympathize with you, as a fellow skeptic. You won’t take the “compliment” at face value, but you still don’t appreciate the remark. 
“I’m perfectly fine,” you shrug, hoping to end the conversation there. 
He doesn’t look convinced. “I’ll have someone run some food up for you guys.” 
San thanks him for you, clearly ending the conversation there. He ushers the both of you up the stairs and to your apartment, swiftly locking the door behind you once you’re inside. 
You look around your apartment, almost expecting something to have changed, but nothing has. Everything is just how you left it this morning, not a single thing out of order. 
“Are we talking about this now, then?” You question, looking to San as he paces in front of the couch. He doesn’t stop pacing, but he does gesture for you to sit down, “you’re really worrying me, San.” 
He halts in place then, frowning, but not sitting next to you. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” he lets his sentence hang in the air, “I can’t believe… I can’t believe it.” 
“What happened to you while I was out?” You want to reach out and grab his hand, but you can’t, he’s moving too much. 
San starts pacing again, “well, first of all, sorry for disappearing on your right before the ceremony.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Seonghwa appeared out of nowhere and pulled me aside to talk about literally nothing and then, by the time I realized what was happening, the ceremony had started and I couldn’t have helped you.” 
He freezes, as if recalling the memory, “and then the ceremony happened. And, and that thing appeared. I hope to God that Hongjoong or Seonghwa or someone was able to explain that to you, because I can’t. I don’t know what that was, I’ve never seen anything like it or heard of Hongjoong—” he stops abruptly. “I mean that I don’t know how that happened. And I saw it grab you and I seriously, I thought that it was now, that, that Hongjoong had enough of you and— I thought you were going to die.” 
It’s only now that his voice falters, breaking with his last sentence. You’re no stranger to San’s emotions, but his tears always have an effect on you. To his credit, he does a good job of keeping it mostly together as he keeps speaking. 
“But then it was over, and you were on the ground, and I tried to stand up to go to you, but Seonghwa held me down, and I couldn’t do anything. I felt so helpless watching Hongjoong pick you up, watching Mingi run to his side to take you off of his hands and carry you out. I tried to get up again, but Seonghwa wouldn’t let me go. I almost fucking hit him.” He shakes at the memory, his voice thick with both anger and his tears. “We stayed there for a long time. We just waited until Hongjoong came back, and he sure fucking came back. He was incensed. Didn’t even say why. Even Seonghwa looked nervous as he screamed and bitched and threw shit around.” 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
“You will not take her from me!” Hongjoong screams, at neither man in particular. “I don’t care which one of you it is; I forbade it for a reason and I will be fucking respected!” 
Seonghwa doesn’t move an inch at San’s side. San doesn’t say anything, either.
Hongjoong’s rage permeates the chapel. “Why isn’t she scared? Why isn’t she terrified, whimpering and begging for her life at my feet?” He starts pacing up and down the aisle, kicking copies of The Answer that he had thrown to the ground. “Doesn’t she realize that I am the only thing standing between her and a cold grave?” He whirls to face the other two men. “Answer me!”
“I think she is scared of you,” San mutters, “but she’s good at hiding it in front of you.” 
Hongjoong’s face contorts into a smile, and San knows that he’s fucked up. “Is that it? How do you know, San? Do you hold her at night while she cries in your arms at my cruelty?” 
San only blinks, unable to respond in a way that would please his leader. 
“She doesn’t know about Haseul yet. What is she going to think when she finds out that her boyfriend let her die?” 
“Hongjoong—,” Seonghwa cuts in, “She can’t know about Haseul, even if you want to scare her. It’s invaluable for us to be able to hold this ove—”
“You will not tell me what I can and cannot do, Park Seonghwa!” Hongjoong yells, “I am in charge here! I am! If I want her to know about Haseul, she will know about Haseul.” 
“Of course you are, Hongjoong, you don’t need to be so angry.” Seonghwa tries to console Hongjoong, to absolutely no avail. 
Hongjoong puts his palms together, resting his index fingers on his forehead as he thinks. “I cannot take this disrespect much longer.” 
The chapel remains in tense silence, neither San nor Seonghwa wanting to be the first to say something.
Apparently that’s not what Hongjoong wanted, either. “Seonghwa,” he gets the man’s attention, “hold San steady for me, would you?”
San knows what’s coming. Hongjoong’s had it out for him for ages, and this is finally it. He’s outlived his purpose, his presence is only backfiring, it’s time for him to go. He knew that it was coming, he should’ve known that it would be now. His death would utterly destroy (Y/n), there would be nothing for her to do except accept her fate. 
Seonghwa does as Hongjoong instructs, standing behind him to hold his arms in place. San doesn’t struggle. He has to be strong. Go bravely. That’s what he wants. 
But Hongjoong surprises him. He takes a step toward him, smoothing his own ceremonial shirt before grabbing the hem of San’s and pulling it out of his pants. 
Oh… San really hadn’t been expecting tha—
But then Hongjoong hits him. Just once. 
“We’ll see how she feels when you’re not so pretty.” Hongjoong spits, literally, onto the floor of the chapel. 
San can hardly hear him through the pain rippling over his jaw, but the message is clear enough. He doesn’t need a mirror to taste the blood, or feel it pouring down his chin. Seonghwa lets go of his arms and it takes everything in him to not double over. Instead, he looks up at Hongjoong, unintimidated. 
Hongjoong stretches his hand. “She asked for you, Seonghwa. Better go comfort her.” He glares up at him. “But not too well.” 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
Of course, unbeknownst to you, San leaves the… sensitive details out as he recounts Hongjoong’s tantrum for you. Not a single word of Haseul is spoken to you, but the rest is mostly accurate. 
You sit in horror as San recounts these details to you, unsure how to even react. You’ve always known that Hongjoong is capable of violence, and Seonghwa, too, but to hear of them acting such violence onto San, of all people… it’s almost unthinkable. At some point in the not too distant past, Hongjoong had trusted San to watch over you at all times of the day, and now? His own paranoia has driven him to violence? 
Your thoughts wander to Seonghwa against your own better judgment. Seonghwa is his own person, he’s taking care of himself. He doesn’t want you meddling in his relationships, and he has made this more than abundantly clear. 
But how does Hongjoong treat him? It can’t be kind. You’ve seen the slights between them, seen Hongjoong deny Seonghwa of even the simplest pleasure. Behind closed doors, what do they talk about? How does Hongjoong act around him? 
Though you’re loath to admit it, you have to worry for him. If Hongjoong is violent with you, the person he considers to be one of the most important figures in his religion… that doesn’t bode well for Seonghwa. 
“San,” you bring your thoughts back to the present moment, “I’m so sorry that you went through that for me.” 
He doesn’t stop pacing, almost ignoring your sentiment all together. “Hongjoong is crazy.” 
“I’ve known that for a while now.” 
San smiles. Smiles. “I don’t think you understand the extent of it.”
You find that hard to believe, but there probably are things that San knows about Hongjoong that you don’t.
“But that’s not important for right now. I just need you to keep your distance from him as much as possible; I’ll ask Seonghwa for his help—”
“Seonghwa?” You’re astounded. “You’re going to ask Seonghwa to help us escape?” 
San shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, not looking at you. “No, but he’ll keep you away from Hongjoong. That’s basically his number one priority, anyways.” 
It makes sense. If Hongjoong is as volatile as he was with Seonghwa and San earlier, he’s a danger to be around. Even more so than usual. But getting Seonghwa’s help… “Won’t it be obvious what we’re trying to do?”
“You already avoid Hongjoong,” San says. “I don’t think it will be a drastic enough change to draw attention, as long as you’re not refusing to see Seonghwa.” 
The way with which San says this last sentence… is different. He’s not stuttering anymore, you realize. He hasn’t been for a while, now. When San is upset, his stutter is more pronounced than anything else, its absence is suddenly so jarring that you have to wonder why you didn’t realize when it stopped. 
There’s no emotion in his voice anymore. No personality, no San. 
You stare up at him, watching him walk back and forth in front of you. He’s not upset, not anymore, at least. What is this? 
“San.” You try to get his attention. “Are you alright?” 
He finally stops walking, if just for a second, to give you a good look at his face. “I’m fine,” he states. His eyes aren’t red, his breathing is perfectly even, his expression flat. “Why do you ask?” 
“You’re scaring me,” you say. “What’s going on?”
San resumes his pacing. “You should be scared, I should be scared, I should’ve been this whole time; But I’ve been so stupid and now isn’t the time for me to be some sniveling boy.”
You can’t respond to that. 
“I think I know when we can try to get out. I’m not going to fail you this time, (Y/n), I swear.”  
“San, wait, hold on,” you start, shaking your head, “what about your laptop? The phones? Can’t you just call the cops?” 
San smiles tightly, “I considered it, but there would be issues. Hongjoong has a plan, and things would not end well if law enforcement got involved and Hongjoong had more than five seconds to think before he was arrested or killed.” 
“So you’re seriously proposing that we run away, leaving everyone else here… forever… including the children?” 
“Would you rather be alive and here or dead and buried?” San blinks. “That’s what this comes down to for the rest of the group. We can find a way to get Mingi and Haseul, but it’s not feasible to save everyone knowing that Hongjoong has a plan for this exact situation.” 
Your stomach rolls over itself as he explains this. How can you just leave? How could you leave everyone behind and forget about them? How could San even suggest something so horrible?
The thought of freedom is enticing, but the weight that would remain on your conscience… It makes you sick just thinking about it now. 
Whatever. Fuck San. You’ll remedy the situation yourself once you’re out. There’s not a chance in hell you’d leave all of these innocent people to rot on this farm. 
San’s apathy is so jarring. Maybe that’s what waking up after years of brainwashing does to a person.
You don’t want to judge him when he’s so clearly doing this for you. To protect you. You can hardly complain that he’s resolved in this situation. 
… Yeah, no, it still rubs you the wrong way.
But you’ll shrug it off for now. “When can we go?” 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
San explains the general idea to you, which he’ll refine in the coming weeks. 
With the beginning of the harvest starting, that puts the farm about one month out from the conclusion. Apparently, they don’t actually own that much acreage, just enough to surround the commune itself, so harvest doesn’t take very long. Throughout the month, there are various ceremonies that all culminate into one, final, grand ceremony at the end of the harvest. After this ceremony, there’s a party. 
It was about here when you realized where this was going.
The party is huge, apparently. Like, all-out, rager huge. Everyone gets drunk (apparently this is part of the ceremony) and everything gets a bit wild and confusing. San’s proposal is that the two of you make a break for it when everyone is (a) extremely inebriated and (b) distracted by the celebrations. 
It’s kind of cliche, but you have to imagine that it’ll work, especially if this party is as crazy as San explained. 
If it doesn’t work… the thought puts a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re not going to start pondering what you’ll do if you get caught for a second time. 
Really, this plan should work. San has access to the vehicles. With a car, you can be fifty miles away before anyone even realizes that you’re gone, so long as Hongjoong lets you out of his sight for even just a few minutes. 
With all of the noise and distractions, no one will hear the car starting. No one will hear you guys peeling out, the terrible crunch of the gravel under the wheels that you had heard what felt like so long ago. 
You think back to the night in the corn field. What a shitshow. You had to give it to yourself, you were very brave. And you got quite far for the amount of preparation that you had done. But that night… 
Remains one that you want to forget. But you’ll never forget the fear coursing through your veins, the feeling of your heart in your chest, your ears twitching with every sound that you heard. When Seonghwa was chasing you, when Hongjoong reduced you to a puddle at his feet. 
It was like being hunted for sport. 
You have to hold out hope that the car will make all of the difference here, which you’re sure that it can. Where you’re going to go… you aren’t sure. 
Surely, you know that you have to get law enforcement involved, but what San said is weighing on your mind… Maybe, if you fully explained the situation, you could get some sort of covert mission operating… But that would probably have its pitfalls, too. It’s hard to know what’s right, but you trust that you’ll figure it out once you’ve saved yourself. 
There’s also the option that the police will entirely write you off and think you’re just some crazy lady. Especially if San… 
No, wait, pause. San would tell the truth, right? Like, he would be your witness? He wouldn’t actually just let this keep happening once he’s out… 
God, the fact that you even have to weigh this option is exhausting. Why can’t you just trust him? You’ve had no problem with it before, so why should it be an issue now? Has San ever done anything to betray your trust? Minus him being a high-ranking cult official, but, like, that’s just part of the deal. You have to trust him, especially now.  If you can’t trust San, who can you trust? 
Your mind wanders to your apartment, your old college dorm room, your childhood bedroom. How dreamy would it be to be anywhere but here? You miss your big bed and your pantry full of snacks you actually like and your bookshelves stacked with your books. You miss sleeping alone, but hearing your neighbors through your thin walls; when you didn’t have a sanctioned bed time that everyone obeyed. 
On your nightstand at home, you have a framed picture of your friends. You try to picture their faces, all of them. Changbin, Mingi, Soojin, Haseul, Juyeon, and Jungeun. And, of course, your own face. When’s the last time you looked in the mirror? You think of your features, your hair, the color of your eyes and your smile. 
Horrifyingly, you can only picture Hongjoong’s smile. 
You stop trying to picture yourself.
Mingi comes to the forefront of your mind. Mingi. Do all roads lead back to Mingi? It feels like it. San had said that Mingi had run to you when you fainted, that he’d taken you from Hongjoong and carried you to the infirmary. You try to picture it, the feeling of Mingi’s arms wrapped around you again. Had he held you close, like a friend, or sterile, far away from his own body, the act of an EMT? Had he let your head hang upside down, over his arm, or did he support your neck like you would a baby? 
You don’t know what feels right. You only know that Mingi had held you and Mingi had cared. 
Maybe he threw you over his shoulder like he used to do when you refused to follow him somewhere. Probably unlikely. But you smile as you think about it, anyways, how he always used his height to his advantage and how he would sling you around like you weighed nothing. 
How many times did he have to carry you to the library? How many times did he carry you out of the library? What does carrying someone mean? When is it an act of love and when is it an act of control?
Haseul had been carried. Where is she, now? In a little room? Is Wooyoung talking to her, keeping her company? Has Mingi been a good companion to her? Is she being subjugated to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, yet? Are you going to have to attend her own Choosing ceremony, soon? 
Hongjoong wouldn’t trust you to just silently watch her ceremony, you know that well enough. It’ll probably just happen and you’ll be told after the fact. When its too late to warn her. The next time you see her, she’ll probably be in the infirmary, recovering from a fucking stab wound. 
Your own scar tingles. Would Hongjoong just kill her? He had made it clear that he decides who lives and who dies. He could just lethally aim the knife. And wouldn’t that be the ultimate punishment? Not knowing she’s dead until being told after the fact? Not being able to see her one last time? 
San wouldn’t let that happen. He would warn you, he would try to help her again, you’re sure of it. 
So you just have to focus on yourself, for now. Keep your head down, wait it out, and trust San. That’s really all that you can do. You can’t help Haseul while you’re stuck here, just like you can’t help Mingi, either. 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
You had half expected Hongjoong to give you a break for a few days, considering your encounter with… whatever that thing was, but that illusion is quickly destroyed when Seonghwa comes knocking on your door at the usual time the next day. 
San answers, quickly lowering his voice in what sounds like an attempt to plead with Seonghwa to leave you alone for the day. You sneak up behind San, making eye contact with Seonghwa as your appearance calls his attention. 
“What do you think, princess?” He sounds as pissed as he looks. You can imagine that he wants to be here just as much as you want him here.
Resting a hand on San’s shoulder, you tell him that you’re fine to go. Afterall, how else are you supposed to keep up appearances? And you need to learn more about what this month has in store for you.
San steps aside as Seonghwa offers you his hand, which you take. Strange, though, that he doesn’t take your arm as he usually would. Is this his way of…
Your last conversation echoes in your head. Seonghwa seemed genuinely concerned. And quite rattled. And he was honest with you, as much as you could expect him to be. Maybe he’s feeling bad. Or sentimental. Or protective. 
… Pft, who are you kidding? He probably didn’t even think twice about taking your hand instead of your arm.
Hand-in-hand, you walk silently to Hongjoong’s apartment.
Fuck. You can only hope that he’s not there. You could probably play off your curiosity about the month as your worry about what’s going to happen to you, but something tells you that Hongjoong is going to be looking for reasons to be cruel. Or you’re going to be in for some intense attempts at gaslighting you into believing… 
You have to resist a shudder at the memory. With enough effort, you probably could believe that that shit was real. Didn’t you have to beg Seonghwa to tell you that it wasn’t? You still don’t understand what the hell that even was or how it could’ve been faked, but you really can’t bring yourself to think of it. 
Seonghwa drops your hand to open the door, holding it open behind him to allow you to enter as well. 
Hesitantly, you glance around the apartment. 
“He’s not here,” Seonghwa says. “But he wants you here when he comes back.” 
The door shuts, and you sit at your usual spot on the couch. Seonghwa flops into his chair, facing you. 
“When will he be back?” 
He just shrugs, folding his arms across his chest. The image takes you back to a certain other night the two of you have been alone, and you have to clench your jaw to drive away the thoughts, looking anywhere else but at his body. 
“I suppose you have more questions.” Seonghwa doesn't ask you this, but tells you. 
Yeah, you have a lot of questions. The primary ones you either can't ask Seonghwa or you've asked him already, to no avail. 
You look at your nail beds, trying to be nonchalant. “Are you still jealous of San?” 
Why that's the question you decide to ask, you have no idea. 
Seonghwa scoffs. “Really?” He asks. “That's where we're going?” 
Shrugging, you try your best to resist looking at him. “I just thought it was strange that Hongjoong didn't want me to see him yesterday. I can't help but imagine that you must still be feeding him lies,” you say. “He also told me that it was you that had to physically hold him back when I fell.” Not to mention the other holding he did. 
Though you don't look at him, you can imagine his displeasure spreading across his expression. “I don't know why you insist that there's nothing between you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, minus the fact that your misadventures could only cause harm to San.” 
“Exactly,” your eyes flit up to his face, “I'd never put him in danger.” 
“Your loyalty to a man you hardly know is admirable,” Seonghwa says through a sneer. 
“I know San better than I know you.” 
You could swear his eye twitches. “Sure you do.” 
“Is there something you want to tell me?” You blink. “I have no reason to not trust San, and every reason to not trust you.” 
Seonghwa shakes his head, smiling. “I think you're forgetting your situation, Princess. San is your punishment, and you're his.” He brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “I never said you had to trust me. I think you do, anyways.”
You stay silent, knowing that he's at least partially correct. You probably do trust Seonghwa, at least more than a lot of the people here. 
“Otherwise, you wouldn't have asked for me to calm you yesterday.” 
“I asked for San, first.”
“And what would he have told you?” Seonghwa leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Not what you wanted to hear. He wouldn't have been able to assure you of anything. I did.” 
Again, you know he's right. San hadn't been able to do much to calm your nerves, despite tell you his plan for your escape. 
You lock eyes with him, planning to defend San, but your gaze betrays you. Seonghwa leans back in the chair, knowing he's got you.
“Who was in the costume?” You ask instead. 
Seonghwa deigns to look confused. “I'm not sure what you mean.” 
The frustration of the prior day comes back at full force. Why can't just one other person acknowledge the fucking insanity of this place? Why can't Seonghwa just say what he means? Why is he so insistent on agreeing with Hongjoong, no matter the cost?
“Do you ever get tired of being Hongjoong's lapdog?” 
“Lapdog?” He smiles. “Come here.”
You swallow as he gestures for you to stand in front of him, recognizing the gesture from weeks prior. “No.”
Seonghwa stands instead, stepping around the coffee table to be able to stand before you. Forced into looking up at him, you hate this upper hand he's suddenly gained through your refusal. 
He bends, using a hand to grip the sofa behind your shoulder. Face to face, he mockingly pouts. “That's what you think of me?” 
You keep your mouth shut, hoping your gaze is burning through him.
“You said it yourself,” he leans closer to you, “you hardly know me.” 
With his face so close to your own, you hardly even feel like you can breathe, like it would be encroaching on his space. You glance between his eyes, trying your damnedest to not look anywhere else. If you looked at his lips… his pretty, plump lips… 
Fortunately, or, perhaps unfortunately, the doorknob starts rattling a few feet away from the both of you, and Seonghwa quickly leans out of the compromising position. Slipping a hand in his pocket, he stares down at you once more. “This isn’t over.” 
The door opens, but neither of you turn to greet who you know will be in the doorway. You’d have to imagine it’s quite a sight to see, the both of your staring daggers at each other, unwilling to be the first to look away. 
Hongjoong isn’t pleased by your ignorance. He slams the door behind him as he enters his apartment, and Seonghwa finally relieves you of his look. 
Your eyes only move to Hongjoong when he comes to stand next to Seonghwa, his hand resting on his bicep.
“Well, well, well,” he says, “having a lively conversation? Without me?” 
Hongjoong gently turns Seonghwa so that he’s angled to sit on the couch, pushing him down until he’s sitting right next to you. Your thighs brush. Hongjoong moves back to sit on the chair Seonghwa vacated, settling himself in before speaking again. 
“Have you had time to reflect on what happened yesterday?” Hongjoong inquires, tilting his head. He’s wearing his glasses, the overhead light reflecting off of them, obscuring his irises. “If I seemed frustrated with you, I must apologize. You have to understand that it was a very scary experience, even for myself. And I forgive you for the way that you reacted, as well.”
You squint at Hongjoong. As if you had anything to be sorry for. He’s the one that got himself all mad for no reason. He should be apologizing to San. 
But you can only imagine how this conversation will go if you continue to argue with him about the validity of the… thing. And San requested you to keep a low profile. He probably wouldn’t want you bringing up his mistreatment. So you nod a couple times, hoping that he doesn’t want you to vocalize an apology. 
“You must have been in shock,” Hongjoong continues. “Which would explain your inability to accept what had happened.” 
Nodding again, you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Does he want you to start asking questions? Does he seriously, genuinely believe that you’ve lost it, now? He can’t.
So, what? He just wants you to act like you have? He must know that it would just be a ruse, so why does he want you to go along with it so badly?
Seonghwa certainly knows that you’re not fooled, and you can expect that he told Hongjoong this after you spoke to him yesterday. Who is this act for, exactly? 
“As important as you are, it makes sense that you were targeted. The Guardians, in fact, are responsible for the loss of your predecessor.” 
Okay, so, that’s a lie. Hongjoong told you as much himself. He’s really going to go back on his word, gaslight you into forgetting what he already said? He might be able to get you to forget what he told you about Haneul, but not so soon after you found out about her. 
Haneul’s memory is alive and well in your head, despite the fact that you never met her. You owe it to her to remember the facts of her life, and her death, as best as you can. It awakens a tinge of anger in you to even hear Hongjoong so blatantly disregard her truth. He told you, to your face, that he liked you more than her. So he got rid of her. Not these “guardians” or whatever the fuck he’s trying to blame for her death. 
“The Guardians,” you say, plainly. “Are… what, exactly?” 
Hongjoong leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Well, there’s quite an extensive explanation in The Answer, but I suppose it could be beneficial to hear about them from me.
“The Guardians, simply put, are our antagonists. They protect the Sign, keeping it in the hands of those that oppose us. When we’re close to reaching the Sign, or when the barrier is thinner than normal, such as during a ceremony, they can appear. They’re rather frightening, and they can kill or bring Followers back to their dimension.”
… You blink at Hongjoong, remembering to nod periodically through his explanation. What are you supposed to say to that? 
“So, yesterday, then, it was trying to… kill me?” You ask, sensing that Hongjoong wants something to bounce off of. 
He tsks. “I don’t suspect kill, but rather kidnap. If they know that you’ve been Chosen, they’ll continue to target you whenever the barrier is thin. Surely they know that we would go to great lengths to recover you if they were able to steal you away.” 
Hongjoong speaks with such a conviction that you can see how people are led to believe in him. If you had a weaker mindset, his crock of shit might just make sense. Or be just scary enough to make you want to believe that he could protect you. 
“But you scared it away? Yesterday?” 
Hongjoong nods gravely, closing his eyes. “They fear my presence, thankfully. Very rarely can they stand to be in the same room as me.” 
You smile, hopefully not sarcastically. “That’s very lucky for me, then.” 
“It is,” Seonghwa cuts in, surprisingly. “Hongjoong will always be with you, so you’ll always be safe.” Even more surprising than his words, Seonghwa slides his hand into resting on your mid-thigh, assuringly squeezing you. You turn toward him with wide eyes, about to question what the hell he thinks he’s doing, when his expression makes it very clear to you that you should drop the subject. 
Bizarre. Why would Seonghwa be warning you to stop talking about what Hongjoong so clearly wants you to speak about? 
So you turn back toward Hongjoong, who’s agreeing with what Seonghwa said, seemingly oblivious to his little boyfriend’s hand on your thigh. “Is there any way to protect myself, if I am alone?” You ask instead of heeding Seonghwa’s warning. 
He squeezes your thigh harder, but you ignore it. What the hell is he trying to steer you away from? If he doesn’t want you to talk about it, surely it’s something that you’re going to want to know, right? Seonghwa can’t be looking out for you, not when Hongjoong is in the room. He has his priorities in order, and Hongjoong far outweighs yourself. 
“Great question,” Hongjoong smiles approvingly. “So long as you have a Sign of the Answer on your person, you can fend them off yourself. They revere the Sign, they won’t harm someone under its protection.”
If that’s the case… you would’ve been fine, yesterday, then. As always, you had been wearing a Sign pinned to your shirt, somewhere. Though Hongjoong would probably try to argue with you that you must have been missing it, otherwise the Guardian wouldn’t have been able to attack.
But then that also raises the question. Is kidnapping someone the same as harming them? Maybe it wouldn’t have killed you, but could it still have taken you? Assuming that Hongjoong isn’t just some very creative psycho, that is. Purely for thought exercise, you have to wonder what the Sign could really protect someone from. Was yesterday an attack? Or merely an appearance?
You sense that Seonghwa is trying to warn you away from the areas that Hongjoong doesn’t have fleshed out. For all you know, yesterday is the first time that a Guardian has ever appeared in the flesh. Hongjoong might not have prepared for every possible question that you could ask. 
The questions that you’re most curious about are things that you can’t ask him. Who did he have dressed up? How did they make that stature, that outfit, that… aura? Where was the face? Were you drugged? Was everyone drugged? Did everyone see the same thing that you did, or is everyone collectively lying to you to help their leader? Seriously, where the fuck was that thing’s face? How did they do that? If it wasn’t for that gaping maw of nothingness, you’d have a much easier time writing the entire experience off as the complete joke that you logically know it must have been. You push the thought away for now. 
“I’ll be sure to always wear my pins, then.” You motion to where you have one pinned to your collar. “I have questions about the ceremonies in general, though, Hongjoong. Can I ask a few things?” 
He motions for you to proceed, and Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t tighten its hold on you, so you do. “Will there be more sacrifices?” 
Hongjoong nods. “There’s a sacrifice for each ceremony.”
“What is the sacrifice for? To what deity?” 
A hint of exasperation crosses his face as Seonghwa slides his hand a little higher. “I’ve explained this. Sacrifices are sent to different universes as aid for our clones. There’s no God in particular the sacrifice is for, except for me.” 
“So they can even use animals, in the other universes? The situation is so dire?” 
Seonghwa pinches you instead of squeezing. Hongjoong’s exasperation melts into wry acceptance. “Yes, it is. Have you ever gone months without eating meat?” 
… Yeah, probably. But you’re not going to press him harder on the subject. “I was just curious, I didn’t mean to question you. How many more ceremonies will there be this month?”
Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t move, and it’s right about now that you’re starting to feel a little bit insane because of it. Why would he put his hand on your thigh, of all places? Why does it keep migrating upward? Why don’t you just say something to stop him? Or use your own hand to move his away? Why is the warmth of his palm seeping through your jeans so quickly? Why hasn’t Hongjoong said something yet?
“There will be one ceremony each weekend.” He says, calmer, now. “But you won’t have to participate in all of them. The most important ceremonies, the first and the last, are different and thus require the Bearer’s presence.” 
Well, that takes a bit of the pressure off, at least. Knowing that you don’t have to personally participate in every ceremony, though, no doubt, you’ll have to be present at each of them, makes you feel just a tad bit better. You have to imagine that Haseul’s Choosing ceremony will be soon… 
“Hongjoong, did I do good yesterday?” You ask, trying to feign your most innocent look. “Can I see Haseul, soon?” 
He gives you a small smile, but his answer doesn’t match it at all. “No. You made me quite mad, yesterday.”
The response is actually slightly shocking. You knew you had made him upset, but for him to vocalize it to you? To deny you seeing Haseul because of some bullshit that he orchestrated himself? 
“But—”
“No buts about it,” Hongjoong says. “You’ll be able to see Haseul once you’re behaving on a consistent basis.” 
“Won’t she have a Choosing ceremony?” You blurt, hoping that you weren’t the one to put the idea in his head. Maybe he had been planning on just keeping her locked up and not actually indoctrinating her. Had you even considered that? 
Hongjoong sighs. “I haven’t decided. Is she worthy of one?” 
What the hell does he mean ‘worthy?’ He’s seriously not going to jump at the chance to bring her in? If he wanted to, he could just kill her then and there; wouldn’t that be his dream? To end her life in front of you? Wouldn’t that just tickle his fancy? You don’t understand. 
Unless he’s taking a certain pity on her, which you highly doubt.
He must see your confusion painted plainly on your face, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. “It’s no matter. You’ll see her when you deserve to. Seonghwa,” —he abruptly changes the topic and his tone— “where exactly is your hand going?” 
Seonghwa’s hand flies off of you, landing promptly back into his own lap.
“That’s what I thought.” Hongjoong tuts. “Do we need to discuss the lines that must not be crossed, again?” 
You shake your head. You do not need the sex talk again from Hongjoong. God. And it's not like you were feeling him up. 
“Seonghwa, you look particularly guilty. Do you need to tell me something?”
You suspect that, if Seonghwa looks or feels guilty of something, it's not the hand on your thigh. It's the warning you to stray away from topics that could upset Hongjoong. 
But, glancing over at him, you’re surprised to see how red his face has gotten. Do you really get him going so easily? You could almost laugh, if not for the circumstances. Surely he's not so embarrassed just to have been seen with a hand on your leg. Its not like Hongjoong walked in on his hand down your pants or anything. And hadn’t he been all up in your face before Hongjoong arrived? Where’d that confident asshole go? 
Hongjoong’s presence makes all the difference, you suppose. Hopefully he's able to play off this little episode as embarrassment about touching you. If Hongjoong realizes what he was doing, he'd probably get in trouble. 
Which is still perplexing. Why had Seonghwa done that? Since when does he want to protect you? The way he's been acting, yesterday and today, just doesn't… align with the picture you have in your head. 
Seonghwa looks literally anywhere else than at you or Hongjoong, shaking his head as well. 
Slowly, he uses his hands to slide himself farther down the couch from you. Hongjoong chuckles from your opposite side, bringing you back into the reality that you temporarily abandoned. 
“That’s pathetic, Seonghwa, really.” 
Seonghwa simply looks back toward the coffee table, his face pink. Hongjoong is so harsh.
“Anyways,” Hongjoong calls your attention back towards him, “anything you want to tell me, (Y/n)? How’s San?”
This obsession with your relationship with San is infinitely annoying. What makes them think that you’re ever going to admit to what they suspect of you? 
“San is perfectly fine.” 
Hongjoong’s eyebrow twitches. “Oh? I only ask because he was rather… upset, yesterday, is all.”
“Wasn’t everyone a little upset?”
“Not so personally.” 
You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know how many different ways I can tell you that you made us live together, so it’s only natural that we care about each other.” 
“Well,” is Hongjoong’s entire response. 
The room falls into a rather uncomfortable silence. 
You look back at Seonghwa, but he’s just looking at his hands, folded in his lap, now. 
Hongjoong looks at his nail beds. 
“Are we done, then?” You ask. 
“You don’t have any more questions?” Hongjoong responds with a question, not looking up at you. 
You rack your mind for anything else. Sure, there are plenty of questions, just not ones that he would be happy to answer.
“I guess not.” 
Hongjoong looks up, flicking his eyes between you and Seonghwa. “Shall I escort you back to your apartment?” 
You look back at Seonghwa, who’s now looking between you and Hongjoong. 
“I don’t have a preference,” you say, even though you definitely do. 
“I can take her,” Seonghwa springs up, offering you his hand. 
Taking it, you also stand. “I actually have one more question, Hongjoong.”
He has to look up at you for once. He simply waits for your question while you gaze down at him.
“Is the sacrifice always an animal?”
He smiles. “More or less.”
Great. Wonderful. Perfect. You absolutely hate that response. More or less? Thats the most non-answer answer that he could've given you. And it definitely means that its not always an animal. Which makes you wonder when… and who… 
Stunned into silence, you say nothing. Neither does Seonghwa.
“Hurry back.” Hongjoong requests, dismissing the two of you without another word. 
Once you’re outside of Hongjoong’s apartment, you debate teasing Seonghwa, but decide against it. Though it would be quite fun, the poor guy is probably going to get it from Hongjoong already, no need to add to his torment. Plus, he was just trying to help you. 
He walks you in silence, again, hand-in-hand, back to your apartment. 
No sooner than you’re saying goodbye and shutting the door behind you does San appear in the entryway, grabbing for you. 
“Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?” He frantically asks, looking you up and down and all around, his hands flying around your limbs to check for injuries.
Stunned, you stay still. “I’m fine?” 
San sighs in relief, guiding you back toward the couch, sitting and pulling you onto his lap. “I was so worried they’d somehow found out. That you’d be hurt.” 
You shuffle around so that your back can rest against the armrest of the sofa, your legs still resting over his.
“They absolutely cannot find out, no matter what,” San says. “Can you tell me what you talked about?” 
So you explain the conversations for him, using a free hand to card through his hair as you do. He seems to relax after you’ve elaborated, though you leave out the part about Seonghwa and his hand. 
Part of you wonders if you should feel guilty about messing with Seonghwa. Not for his sake, but for San’s. What even is going on between the two of you? You probably shouldn’t be flirting with the enemy anyways, but San probably wouldn’t be overjoyed to hear about the things that have happened between yourself and Seonghwa. The fact that you leave it out when recounting the meeting must prove that you know that it’s wrong. 
“Come here,” you open your arms to him. 
He slips out from under you, realigning himself so that he can rest his head on your chest. “We’ll get out of here, together.” He wraps his arms around your waist.
You do the same, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. There’s nothing you can do but agree with him. The two of you will escape together, and soon. After that, you can forget all about this place. 
… Yeah, in your dreams. The real horror might start after you’re gone. You have to believe that San is telling the truth about Hongjoong. Revealing the cult to the authorities will only end in horror if you’re not careful. 
And you find it hard to believe that you’ll be okay once you’re gone. You’ve considered it before, the way that this sort of trauma affects someone. How long will you have to recover? Will you be able to go back to your old life? 
Will San be part of it? 
You squeeze him tighter and he reciprocates. 
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