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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

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Live In Nanny Pt 2

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny (Pt 2). The morning after and basically wayyyy to long so the smut is gonna have to be in pt 3. (word count: a little over 2k)

pt 1 here

TW: Yandere themes, day after dub con, reader is held against their will

You were sore. Your hips, wrists, back, pussy, everything ached. A silky sheet was the only thing covering your bare form. You could feel that you were alone in bed, Toshi's bulkiness was no longer weighing down the mattress. It must be mid morning because light was streaming through the curtains. Maybe if you remained still you could absorb into the mattress. Not only because of your tender body, but because you would prefer to never see your boss again. But speak of the devil. "Are we staying in bed all day?" You groaned. Hating how he worded his question. We. It was condescending, patronizing, and somehow filled you with butterflies. Something was placed on the bed, definitely not heavy enough to be Toshi. And then you realized, not something but a tiny someone. Baby Izuku crawled over to you, babbling, and tapped your sore shoulder. "Morning, Zuzu," You mumbled. Your joints crackled to life and you tightened the covers so you could face the little one. Behind him the clock read 11:00 am. "I need to get dressed." The villain cocked his head, "I tossed your clothes in the laundry do you want me to go get something from your closet?" No, you didn't want him running through your belongings. He would probably make a mess. "Just give me one of your shirts." That provided you enough modesty to get to your room and you were surprised the menace didn't follow. You scrubbed your body raw under the shower, subconsciously punishing yourself for taking pleasure from the night before. You were frustrated. Clean and covered in giant sweat pants and a hoodie you stormed into the living room where Toshi sat watching izuku entertain himself. "I quit." There was a pause. You tried not to look at the child. He would sway your resolve. This didn't have anything to do with him, it was between you and his father. "Alright." Oh. He wasn't going to challenge you? Figures, the man got what he wanted from you. You turned on your heels and rushed back to your room. You didn't own much so it wasn't hard to shove your belongings back into the suitcase. Opening your bedside drawer you froze. Your keys and phone were missing. This was their spot. The dedicated key-and-phone drawer. You check the room once, twice, then Izuku's room, the playroom, the kitchen. "Where are my keys?" You hissed, to hell with the phone you could buy a replacement. "Why would you need those," His voice was taunting. You felt your fists ball up and your nails dug into your palms. You stomped your foot like a frustrated child. "Because I'm leaving, I quit, now give me my keys." "I agreed you can quit, if that's what makes you feel better. I didn't say anything about leaving." The tension could be cut with a knife. He wasn't speaking or moving, he was eerily looming. In the other room Izuku was getting fussy. It knotted your stomach not going to check on him, but you kept your eyes on the villain. Toshinori was the first one to move, he went to check on his son. Clearly you weren't a threat. You could do without the keys, even sacrifice your suitcase. You made it all the way to the front door where you expected him to be, but he wasn't. He was with Izuku. With a twist at the knob the door didn't budge. You tried once more before angrily shaking the door. All Might called for you, "I told you that you aren't leaving. It's a two way security system but feel free to keep trying." When did he install this? You didn't see anything obvious like a box or camera indicating a security system. You could've thrown a fit or tried to break open the window but you had a feeling you wouldn't make it far. "What are you getting at?" You asked, rejoining the father-son duo. "Nothing aside from what we discussed last night in bed," he was making your cheeks burn red. "Making sure we stay a happy family." By the tone of his voice you knew there was no room for discussion. He didn't chastise you for slamming the door your room. He didn't pester you through out the day. He didn't even open your door to tell you he made dinner. He came by later to tell you (through the door) that he left you a plate in case you get hungry. By midnight you were. You tip toed down the hall, peeking into to the nursery to see Izuku fast asleep. You scarfed down the food before crawling back to bed. --- The next day you shuffled out of bed and into Izuku's room where you picked up the quiet but awake baby. You were gentle as you combed through his green curls with your fingers. He was still warm the way babies gets when they sleep. Holding him soothed you. Toshi melted when he saw you two curled up on the couch. He didn't want to ruin the mood so he stayed out of your line of sight for a few more minutes. Finally he entered the threshold of the room, "I'm heading out for the day but I won't be out late." You could've ignored him, but Izuku's grubbing hands were grabbing for his daddy. You had been defeated by the toddler. You weren't a monster. You moved toward your now ex-employer so he could tell his son goodbye. Goodbye before he goes off to commit atrocities. Toshi kissed the child’s chubby cheeks without removing him from your arms. He was too close for comfort. You took an awkward half step back before his huge hand caught your hair. With a tug, your chin jutted forward and he pressed his lips to yours. "Zuku, keep an eye on mommy," Chuckling as he stepped out the front door. Your mind was fuzzy for a moment before looked down at the boy on your hip who was giggling and clapping his hands together. --- The jovial villain was focused at work. He was on edge, quiet and irritable. Eager to return home and help you with his son. All Might wasn't delusional — well at least not entirely. He anticipated that this would be a rough time for you, but you were a good girl, you would adjust.

When he placed that ad to scout for someone to watch Izuku he didn't plan for this. But you were so perfect. He ached for you in a way he never hurt before. Had you been anyone else he would've killed you when you found out his villainous ways. But no, he could never bring himself to harm you. God, you even took the news in stride. Yeah, you weren't thrilled and may have walked out of their lives if he hadn't stopped you; but you weren't trashing his house or treating Izuku any differently.

And you were so pretty underneath him, whimpering while you took his length, your nails digging into the man's shoulders when he released into you. You slept like a rock afterwards, rolling unconsciously into him. Your body sought his comfort, knowing you were safe with him. He just needed to give you time to adjust.

--- It didn't take long for you to stop leaving the room any time he entered. And soon you were back to your normal routine of caring for the child and keeping up with the house. You resumed playing around with Izuku and began reading a ton of books to the boy. You told Toshi that Izuku could even pick which books he wanted you to read. It was nice that you were talking to him again, sometimes making jabs at his life choices and always kept a distance between yourself and him. Izuku was becoming quite the talker, well the babbler because he hasn't said his first word yet. He was figuring it out though. He knew he could say 'Ap-ap' for apple or to get picked up. You were sure he would say his first word any day. --- The three of you were in the living room when it happened. Izuku was watching some baby show, the first "lesson" was colors and the little one did his best to make nonsensical noises. The next subject was family members. Siblings, sister, brother. Parents. Mom, mommy, mama. Dad, daddy, papa. Grandma, grandpa. Aunt, auntie. Uncle. Over and over again until the show was done. Toshi looked at the izuku who was wearing the face of a thinker. He looked at his dad, the little one was trying to get something of importance out. You both cheered for him once he finally got out the word "papa." It was cute to see the man beam with pride, even though he was a villain. The butterflies were breaking out of their cocoons again. --- Toshi didn't get much alone time with his son and he liked it that way. That meant you were with them. But when he did get time with son he worked on teaching the boy that you were the mommy. Mama. And Izuku would try to repeat but hadn’t quite got it. --- You were struggling to maintain your composure in between watching the news and cooking dinner. All Might was robbing a bank. There were hostages. You recognized the location immediately as a bank you passed almost daily before working for Toshinori. Did you know anyone inside? A small part of you worried for the man, probably because you were thinking of him as Izuku's father rather than a villain. You shut the TV off when you heard Izuku start to wake from his nap.

That night you couldn't help but notice a slice on his arm; it was superficial, not even bleeding but enough to draw out the question: Why do you do it? It's easy, he shrugged. All Might never initiated an attack unprovoked nor directed his actions towards helpless civilians. He stole, dabbled in the black market, and made sure everyone knew not to mess with him or anyone in his circle.

You just couldn't understand. When Zuku gets older he will ask questions. All little boys idolize their dads. What if someone tried to hurt the boy?

The two of you were whisper yelling with each other. You more so than Toshi but he was still running low on patience; it had been a long day, after all. Izuku was picking up on the changing atmosphere, watching you both through furrowed brows, the quiver in his lip worsening. You stopped when you heard the whimpering begin. He was a sensitive child. Maybe you just needed to sleep. Toshi picked up the baby, bouncing Zuku in the way that always prevented tantrums and wails. He kept babbling and you could tell he was doing his best not to cry. You started to head towards your room when a cry broke out for 'mama.' This time it wasn't Toshi “putting you in your place”. This time it was Izuku.

"It's okay, Zuzu," Toshi soothed. "Mommy just needs a minute."

The crushing realization of just how trapped you were knocked the wind out of you. You couldn't leave the house. Toshi was always being too kind and patient. Somehow he managed to teach Izuku that you were his mommy. The most infamous villain had ensnared you and no matter what he wasn’t letting go. You would never be able to convince him to leave you alone and you'd never be able to leave Izuku.

You were tired of stubbornly holding out. Pathetic tears cascaded down your face, gentle and oddly relieving. Izuku practically leapt into your arms. The tot clung to you and his crying calmed down. you turned away, not able to look at the man.

"Are you going to think the worst of me forever?" Toshinori whispered. Maybe? Probably not. It was hard to tell. You didn't want to.

He continued, "I'm a good father, I would never let anyone hurt Izuku. Or you. Sure I don't have a lot of redeeming qualities but there are some."

You were tired of being stuck inside. It wasn't good for Izuku either. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't so sure you would abandon them even if given the chance. You were tired of trying to hate the man behind you. Tired of pretending you didn't fantasize about that night when you were alone in bed. Toshi moved right behind you and you relaxed against his huge chest. He was surprised and hesitant to move in case he frightened you to your senses. He couldn't just stand there though, that would be weird. Two thick arms wrapped around waist. "Tomorrow I wanna take Izuku to the park," You whispered. Toshi was equally defeated.

"Okay."

---

After putting Izuku to bed you made your way down the hall. The shower in Toshinori's bathroom was running. That was fine. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. If this was going to work without you feeling like a hostage he was going to have to be open to loosing the reigns.

He was surprised to see you in his room when he exited the bathroom in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants.

"More fighting?" He cocked an eyebrow.

You shook your head, "I hate All Might, just as much as I hate every other villain. But when you come home I don't see All Might, I just see Toshinori, Izuku's dad. That's the man I care about and no matter how much I fight it I can't stop caring."

It was hard to keep eye contact with him but you continued, "I want to be with you and Izuku, not with All Might. And I want to be here on my own accord. I want to be able to go out with Izuku and with you. Can't we just try that?"

You didn't come in here to berate him again? Or to demand to leave? His heart softened as he realized that the person he wanted, wanted him back. You were willing to remain in their lives.

"I can try that."

Toshi trained his eyes on your body, fighting every instinct to close the space between. But you moved first, gingerly placing your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you straddled his lap.

"Can I sleep in here tonight? I want you to hold me," You whispered.

He nodded and rested his forehead against the crook of your neck. "Is that all you want from me tonight?"

#bnha yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #mha yandere #all might x reader #villain all might #all smite #toshinori yagi x reader

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

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Good Night Rituals - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You have a special little way to tuck your children in, to tell them “Goodnight” and send them off to have sweet dreams, and they absolutely love it. It makes, however, your Bruce a little jealous, at times...

When I was a kid, my mom used to sing to my brother and I a song every night, after our bed time story, and then she’d tell us she loved her, we’d in turn be like “I love you from here to the Moon !” and it’d go for a good half an hour of arguing over who loved the other one most...It inspired this mini-fic. Something very short, again to make you wait for longer more elaborate stuffs. Sorry i’m being slow, a lot of things (good things) is happening and I have very little time. I hope you will like this little thing :) :

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Dick

Dick is the one that invented this little “night ritual”.

He told you this was the perfect name for it, because it sounded like you were witches up to no good, and he “loved that for you two”.

Of course, it was fairly obvious he’d be the instigator of it all, as he was the oldest child. Your first little kiddo. Oh, but you helped too.

The good ol’ days, during which you had absolutely NO idea how to raise a child. When you and Bruce, frankly, hadn’t been adults for THAT long, considering.

And yet, and you were sure it was entirely thanks to little Dickie, everything came to you naturally. Everything felt right. Even if sometimes, you were a little clumsy.

Both you and Bruce tried so hard though. To make Dick feel home. And like you were his parents. You never tried to replace his mom and dad. But in Dick’s own words, you just slowly became his chance at having parents again.

Becoming Dick’s mom, and Dick’s dad, didn’t mean he forgot the ones he lost. It just meant he loved you as much as he loved them. And though the loss would forever hurt, he did know both John and Mary Grayson would’ve want him to be happy.

And at Wayne Manor ? With you and Bruce ? He became happy. There was a few rough and dark first days, but things slowly build up.

You became a family. You were his parents, now. And he knew, that his mom and dad wouldn’t be mad at him if he “moved on”, and allowed himself to love again.

Bruce often said that he adopted Dick because he didn’t want the boy to become him. And in that simple fact, in that simple way little Dick Grayson understood he still had a chance at being happy, at having a family...He was already extremely different from his “new” dad.

At least, from when he was at his age.

Mission accomplished.

In any case, this parent thing that was thrown your way, became one of the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life.

And again, although there were some clumsy moments, and not everything was always great (Dick had some mighty fit of rage at times, Bruce could be a jerk, and hell sometimes you needed to get away from them as well because you could be such a dick...Everyone has their moments where they’re not on their best behavior, it’s called life), you were a mom, now.

And being a mom, in your mind, meant tucking your kid in when it was time for bedtime.

Only, it was easier said than done.

Dick was a difficult child to put in bed. He’d always find ways to not sleep, and make you stay longer with him. Eventually, you made a “deal”.

And that’s how the “night ritual” was born.

You see, before this little ritual. This “deal” as you called it at first, before Dick found the name. It took you hours, to put him to bed.

Bruce was often out in the city early (although he always made sure to be here for a good night kiss and a “love you, champ. See you tomorrow, sleep well”) and Alfred would monitor the computer, at those times.

Later, when Dick grew up, you’d often be behind that monitor. But if a kid had to be put to bed ? You gladly took it upon yourself to do it.

For you, especially in those early motherhood days, it was important to be there for your child. For him to feel like he wasn’t an afterthought, and that “the butler” (although everyone knew Alfred was more than that) wasn’t here to take him off of your hands.

So bedtime, was your task. The task you gave yourself.

And oh boy, with Dick ? It quickly turned into a hassle.

“I’m thirsty...Wait, I’m afraid to stay alone in the room, piggyback ride to the kitchen ?”

“I can’t sleep, it’s a full Moon.”

“Hey, I didn’t clean up my room today ! We can’t leave all my toys laying around like that, can we ?”

It was always “one last story” or “I have to pee” or “I forgot to brush my teeth !”.

And at the time, you just didn’t have the heart to scold him and tell him it was enough, that it was time for bed. Oh well, who were you kidding. Even now, you didn’t scold your kids if they took their sweet time to get to bed.

You just didn’t quite understood the point in getting mad at them just because they didn’t go to bed right away. Dick eventually fell asleep, and not even that late. And if he was stalling for too long, he would only get mad at himself the next day because he’d be exhausted, and then that night he’d go to bed earlier.

So no. You didn’t get mad. It sounded ridiculous, to yell at kids for this. However, you were a mom now. And you knew your kid couldn’t just do whatever he wanted, even if he was as sweet as Dick.

Dick was nice almost all the time. He listened, did his chores, worked in school...So what if you gave him a little freedom sometimes ?

Yes. Sometimes. It was fine sometimes.

But not all the time, like it had become. And not for bedtime. Seeing your son, in the morning, with big bags under his eyes, made you think of your husband, and oh you didn’t want this little 8 years old to be as tired as your Broosh could be.

Of course, Dick was in bed WAY BEFORE Bruce came to bed. But for a small child like him, falling asleep at 10 or 11 pm was already too late.

And so, one day you had enough. And you decided to make a deal with him. There had to be things required for him to go to bed (like a story, for example), but when you said : “it’s time for bed now”, he HAD to listen. The threat was that you’d just kiss him goodnight and leave.

At first, Dick didn’t believe you. You couldn’t possibly have the heart to not tell him a story, and leave him alone so soon ! But you had to give him a lesson.

And so, came the first unpleasant act you did as a parent. Because being nice and lenient was one thing, but you still were his mom. Not his friend. And there had to be certain rules, especially for such a young child.

Rules, that he had to understand, or it was meaningless. Now, of course, you weren’t as harsh as your husband (you’d get mad at him enough, when he trained Dick and was a little too much). But still. You couldn’t let him decide of everything. You really REALLY didn’t want him to become a brat who thought he could just have anything whenever he wanted.

Dick was a great kid, your worst fear at the time was that he’d turn into a phony who thought of himself as superior just because he was from a famous and rich family, and allowed to do whatever he wanted.

And so, the “night ritual” began. On a common accord (because Dick was such a good kid, but also because that time you just kissed him, tucked him in and left really left a mark on him and he hated that so much !).

You realized the reason he couldn’t get to sleep right away was because he was always wayyyy too excited, but also...because he didn’t want you to leave so soon.

He dreaded the moment you’d leave, and he would be alone in his room.

So you put in place a system, that would gradually make him sleepy. And...

It worked.

First, you’d get dessert in bed. Usually fresh milk and a cookie. Something light, just to put him a little bit to sleep (Dick always got sleeping after he ate something, for some reasons). And you’d talk about your day, about how you felt. You’d lay it all out, so that your boy wouldn’t get to bed with any negative feelings. Talking, always helped.

Then you’d read him a bedtime story. Better yet, you’d invent a bedtime story just for him (this is how your most famous book saga, “Richard and the Space pirates” came to be). If you felt benevolent that night, you’d even tell him two stories.

One would usually do the trick, however.

Then you’d sing him a few lullabies, to lull him softly to sleep.

And as he’d fall asleep, you’d whisper :

“I love you so much.”

And he’d answer, outraged but too weak to really argue. A few last words before falling into a deep slumber :

“I love you more !”

And bam. He’d be passed out. Your soft voice in his ears, as you told him a story, sang to him, and told him he was loved...It was what he needed.

He was a rather young child too, who had a busy life. School, training, homework...So of course, with a little coaxing, he’d fall asleep fast.

But he had to know you were there. Had to know he had those moments with you, and wouldn’t be alone before he fell asleep.

See, you understood that all his stalling before the “night ritual” was put in place, was because he was trying to tire himself out before you left. He was trying to keep you there as long as possible, just so he would fall asleep fast once you were gone.

“I love you most.”

You’d tell him, as he was already sleeping sweetly, clinging to his comforter as you slowly caressed his hair, laid a last kiss on his forehead, and left the room. Making sure before, that his little light was on, in case he woke up at night.

Dick hated the dark.

“I love you.”

“I love you more !”

“I love you most.”

Night ritual.

Existing because your oldest kiddo, Dick, needed some “guidance” to fall asleep. But most importantly, because he needed to know you’d be there too, until he fell into his dreams.

You’d indulge him. Meeting him half-way between “doing everything he wants you to do” and “being way too strict”. There were rules, to bedtime.

A “night ritual”.

But the rules were lax. Could be bend. And existed only so he would be able to sleep relatively early.

For years and years, you’d do that little nightly ritual with him. It stopped when he was around 14, even if he still had a kiss goodnight and got tucked in. Things really stopped overall when he left for the Titans, shortly after turning 16, after that awful fight with his father.

Oh and to be honest, something he’d never tell anyone...Even now, as a grown ass adult, he’d sometimes call you at night just so you could sing him a song, as your voice was still the thing that’d put him peacefully at sleep even to this day. But the real “night ritual” stopped. Your little boy grew up.

Which made you so sad...But then Jason came in. And soothed the pain.

Jason

Jason ressembled Dick in that he really wanted you to stay for the longest possible. But, unlike Dick who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and who could be a bit of a brat sometimes, Jason wouldn’t say anything.

Dick definitely used his little charms and smiles to make you and Bruce crack, and give in...the little bugger even taught his younger siblings everything about how to manipulate you two into saying “yes”, to your greatest dismay...

Oh but, was one more scoop of ice cream really that bad ? After all, your children were nice most of the time, it was fine to be a little lenient sometimes, and though Bruce loved to think of himself as a strict parent, nobody was fooled, you were both pretty cool and lax...Which didn’t mean your children were misbehaving brats, although they had their moments, like everyone.

Anyway, Dick used to make it clear he was demanding for you to stay longer with him when bedtime was coming.

But Jason was a little shyer. He spend his entire life until then thinking he was bothering the people around him, that he was a burden, so he really didn’t want his new family to think that of him.

But you could see it in his eyes. You could. When he wanted for you to tell one more story, or to sing him one more lullaby. And although you were constantly teased by your husband about how easy those kids played you (as if he was one to talk)...you couldn’t resist.

You were always left rather sad and depressed, if you put one of your kids to bed and they looked visibly upset. So you’d stay longer. Anything for them to go to bed feeling good.

About life. About themselves. About everything, really.

A child shouldn’t have his sleep burdened by any worries.

Of course you knew you couldn’t be forever there for them, they’d eventually grow up and you wouldn’t really need to “tuck them in” anymore (at the time, you had no idea that even well in their twenties, if they came to sleep at the Manor, even as they already moved out, they’d ask you for a good night kiss...The magic of being consistent in your love for them, really).

You knew that eventually, they’d grow up too much and wouldn’t need you as much. That it’d be harder, too, to cheer your little ones up. Growing up unfortunately meant your worries grew with you too, and were harder and harder to forget. Or to be distracted from.

You knew one day would come, in which little Jason would not be soothed anymore, by you telling him a bed time story.

So maybe, you cracked a little too often, especially with him.

You knew Dick had a good childhood, before you adopted him. But Jason ? He was bruised and abused, and thrown away like a dirty socks too often. Nobody ever wanted him, anywhere he went.

Which was why, he didn’t dare to ask for a second story when you finished the first one.

See, Dick would just jump up in his bed, do a backflip and dramatically say : “Pleaaaase fair lady, another story for the poor squire boy !”. Which would make you smile, and tell him one more.

But Jason ? He didn’t say anything. And held all his feelings of sadness and disappointment inside.

He wanted, more often than not, a second story so bad. But he didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t want you to realize he was actually a burden, and to throw him away, just like everyone else did.

Jason always got to have a second story. Of course, any of your kids would if they asked. But Jason never dared to ask. So you’d just give it to him naturally.

He always started to fall asleep half-way through the second story, which you’d keep on hold to then sing to him.

Your songs would make him slowly drift to sleep, a genuine smile on his face.

Oh. Jason. Always such a sweet boy, afraid to bother others, yet as contradictory as it sounded boisterous and full of life.

Your little Jason. When Dick left for the Titans, you hadn’t realized how much you missed having a little one home. And then.

Then there was Jason.

When he died, you thought your “motherhood” died with him. Dick was over eighteen by then, and even if Jason’s death made him come back to the Manor, there was no “night ritual” anymore. You didn’t have the heart for it anyway...

You still had Dick, but losing your young son like that, knowing how he died, made you feel like you would never recover. You were in such a bad shape, that you couldn’t even help Bruce when he also fell into a dark well. When he turned back to being overly violent as Batman, practices he stopped when Dick left and opened his eyes. When Dick questioned him.

You still had Dick, but it felt like part of what you were as a mother, died with Jason. How could you do a “night ritual” properly now, with the memories of your son’s sweet smile, him telling you this was his favorite part of his day ? With the memories of...

You moved from the East wing to the West wing, after Jason’s death. None of you could walk past his empty room anymore.

Dick came back. And it was his turn, to help you fall asleep. More than one night, he spend trying to comfort you as you couldn’t stop the tears from running down. He never left you alone.

Bruce couldn’t handle any of it, and he buried himself under his work as Batman. It would take him some time, before he realized that you had to be there for each others...

When Jason died, it felt like it was the end of everything nice about motherhood. Every night, you fell asleep with your head in your oldest son’s laps, seeing in his eyes the grief and pain of it all.

And you felt guilty. More depressed and sadder. You always hated seeing your children off to bed looking upset...

But it was hard to resist. Everything felt so far away. And Bruce wasn’t there. This was one of the darker moment, in your family life...

Dick felt helpless. He hadn’t been able to save his little brother. Now he couldn’t even help his parents. It felt like the entire family was breaking...

And then. Then Tim came in.

Tim

Tim’s parents never tucked him in, too busy with their high society lives.

So when he started to live with you and Bruce, after he lost both of them, he didn’t really expect you to...

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?”

You asked him on his first night being officially adopted.

Oh but this was rather long after you started to see him as your own son. Tim already stayed over the Manor many times (without his parents ever even calling to know where he was). And he’d been Robin for a few months, before his parents passed away and he was officially adopted into the Wayne family (A/N : no need to tell me that canonically, Tim got adopted quite a long time after his parents died and he was “just” a ward like Dick was, for a while ;). No need either to tell me he was “older” than the age I give him there, which is around 10/11...Firstly because it varies according to canons, like sometimes he’s young, sometimes he’s fifteen, but also because this is a fanfic and my canon ages for the boys are taken from the canon I prefer XD which are not the ones in which he had a certain “Happy 15th birthday” pizza. Anyway what I mean is, that I’m not entirely accurate here for sure, but eh, it’s a FANfic, let’s allow ourself a little freedom...there’s no official canon on his age or how old he was when adopted anyway, it varies wildly from era to era hehe).

Both you and Bruce kept your distance from him, at first. In more way than others, he painfully reminded you of the son you lost. And it felt wrong, to replace him so...

Replace him ?

Slowly, both of you were reminded of that conversation you had with Dick, once. When he was little, and asking if his parents would be mad if he called you and Bruce “mom and dad”.

That conversation, during which all of you talked about how you didn’t replace John and Mary, you just became another family for him. His new parents.

Didn’t mean he would ever forget about the ones who were ripped away from him. Just that he...

He allowed himself to love again.

And you did, too, when you finally accepted Tim in your life.

That boy had a way, anyway, to crawl inside your heart and settle comfortable there...He was just such a bright one, in more than one way. Sure, he was extremely intelligent, but he also just...Shone. A new sun in your life.

Not one that would replace any other Sun. Just. A new one. That you were allowed to love, too.

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?”

Now, he was officially your son. And this was the first night he’d spend in the Manor being yours. Before, you never dared to tuck him in, by fear of getting too attached just for him to be ripped away from you...And he almost did.

His father, almost took him away, before his ultimate demise... But that was another story.

Tonight, was the first night as your son. And he was still so small, just ten little years. The age Jason was too, when the official adoption papers were signed...

You chased away the painful memories, as little Timmy looked at you, surprised. But you could see a hint of interest in his eyes.

“A bedtime story ?”

“Yes, if you want to of course. You don’t have to-”

“I’d love a bedtime story !”

He was in such a hurry to tell you this, that it made you smile. And you could feel it in your bones. That boy never had anyone asking him if he wanted to be told a story, before sleep.

It was obvious in his excitement, and it was obvious in his hopeful eyes. Eyes that were asking : “...Do I really mean something to you ? Enough that you’d spend time reading to me ?”.

It broke your heart. Poor little one. Even though he had parents, and came from a rich family, he was never truly cared for. It was obvious in everything he did.

Often, he’d try to do stuffs on his own, and would be surprised if you, Alfred or Bruce would ask if he needed help...

Ah. Well tonight. Tonight called for one of your made up stories for sure. A mere random storybook wouldn’t do. No. You had to tailor one for him. Just for him. So he would finally know how special he is.

“Ok, well then.”

You settled next to him in his bed, as he sat up, the excitement pouring out of his very being. Alfred chose that time, to drop some milk and cookies, as he informed you he would be down in the Batcave to help Bruce.

Impeccable timing. As usual.

You thanked him, and started your story, as Tim looked at you with wide eyes, eating his cookie absentmindedly, quickly realizing you were telling a story about him ! :

“Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His name was Timothy, and he didn’t know it yet but one day...He’d save the entire Kingdom of Waynalia. How, you might ask ? Well it was simple. You see, young Timothy had a talent to cure people’s heart. And the King and Queen of Waynalia, who were known to be cruel and vile, only were so because they’ve had broken hearts for far too long...”

Tim fell asleep at the end of the story. And just like his brothers, quickly took to this “night ritual”. After all, he was still just a child. And this entire “milk/cookie/ story/lullabies/kiss goodnight” was great.

Cassandra

Cassandra was fifteen, when she started to live with you at Wayne Manor. Too old, you thought, for the “night ritual”

Dick himself stopped demanding it around aged fourteen (after a certain Wally West mocked him when he heard of it), and even that was rather old when you thought of it. One of the main reason he slowly detached himself from it (apart from being mocked), was being Robin full time now, and going most nights out, so he didn’t really have the energy anymore for the ritual. It wasn’t needed. Which sort of broke your heart.

Jason died before he ever got the “chance” to ask you to stop....

But this was not something you wanted to think about. Oh no.

In any case, Cass was fifteen, and you thought, too old to want some bedtime stories by her mom, or any sort of snuggles.

That was until...

A nightmare.

You heard her, it felt even in your sleep. Something woke you, and then she started to scream. Bruce wasn’t home yet, and it was her night off (you forced all of them to have one, at least once a week).

That night, you had marathoned your favorite TV show with her, and went to bed your separate ways. You did kiss her goodnight, and told her you loved her (you always told them at least once a day, because you learned that in your line of work...you never knew what could happen...Jason’s smiling cheeky face came to your mind, did you tell him often enough that he-no. Not tonight.).

And then, late, it was pitch black out, you heard her scream.

Your mother instinct made you run to her. Quickly, you understood she had yet another bad dream about her father coming to get her, and forcing her to be a weapon again. It happened so often...

You shook her up, and she almost knocked you down as she was slowly regaining consciousness and wondering what the hell was happening and where she was. You know, those few seconds before you’re fully awake, when you’re not even sure you’re even someone anymore ? The time you need to remember oh right, I’m human, and I was in my bed. This is my bedroom. Right.

To sooth her, you started to slowly sing to her. To hold her while you rocked gently back and forth, and sung.

She didn’t talk, as you dried her tears. As you reminded that this was all fine, she was home, and David Cain would never hurt her again.

Cass calmed down, and fell back asleep. You held her most of the night, waiting for Bruce to come back. You just didn’t feel like going back alone in your bed, after such screams

The next night off she had, when it was time to part at the top of the stairs after yet another TV show marathon, when you’d go to your room and her to hers...

She stopped. And held onto your sleeve.

“Cass, honey, what is it ?”

There was a few seconds of silence, before she said :

“Do it again ?”

And you understood instantly.

See, the other nights, the ones she didn’t have off, Cass would come home exhausted after a night of vigilanting. But when she had her night off, when she wasn’t “working”...Sleep was hard to come.

You knew all too well what she felt. Your Broosh was the same, and already poured his feelings to you about it more than once.

Now, Cassandra wasn’t much of a talker (your husband either, really, but then it was different with you)but you could see it in her eyes.

“Sing ?”

She nodded. And so you went to tuck her in.

You thought she was “too old”. You thought she wouldn’t like it. You thought, as she was slowly discovering her own independence after being treated as a weapon and not choosing anything in her life, that she’d want to be alone in moments like this.

And oh. Oh you thought wrong.

That night, you sang to her until she fell asleep. And slowly but surely, the “night ritual” put himself into place.

Over the years, it didn’t change much. Because it was such a successful formula. Milk and cookies was talking about their day, getting their feelings out. A story by you. A soothing lullabies. Snuggles and kisses.

Winning formula.

Why change it ? Your children were all wildly different, but the one thing that linked them all, was how much they loved you and your antics.

Each of them had “mom time”, where they’d spend the day just with you (just like your Broosh and you had date nights and such). You always took time to spend individual time with all of them, and during those times the activities would be very different from one kid to another.

But those “night rituals” ? They didn’t need to change. Because they were perfect the way they were. Exactly what they all needed. Pure love, in many ways. And the knowledge they’d never be alone again.

Love and loneliness.

Two things your youngest son, Damian, struggled with for years.

Damian

“I love you, little one.”

The first time, Damian didn’t respond. He just nodded, and turned around in his bed, back facing you.

He couldn’t face you, or you’d see the “stupid” smile plastering his face at the mere thought he was loved, and had a real mom...But that, you didn’t know.

You didn’t really take it personally, you happened to know another “emotionally stunted” Wayne, so you were used to it. It took a while, for Bruce to finally admit his feelings for you. Even if they were obvious, and written all over his face (which is why Damian used the “back facing you” trick).

You knew it’d take time. So for now, you’d settle with a simple kiss, and reminding him he was cherished.

And then one day...

“Why do you not read me bed time stories ? Or make one up, with me as the hero ?”

“Beg you pardon ?”

You were diligently tucking him in, as he never told you off when you did it, when he asked this, taking you by surprise. What he said didn’t quite register, until he added :

“Grayson says that when he was little, you’d tell him a story. Made him the hero of it. And then you’d sing. He said there were cookies, too. Why do you not do that with me ?”

Oh. Oh. Oooooooooh.

You got it now. But you’re no less surprised.

“I thought...You had no interest in those ?”

Damian nodded slowly, and said :

“I know why you would think this...Mom.”

Mom. That...He hadn’t call you that very often, so far...

“But when you come to tuck me in, I never have nightmares. I sleep soundly, and I dream of-Soft things. Like unicorns and cats.”

This makes you smile. Oh. Oh if only people could see the Damian right in front of you, and not the Damian he liked to pretend he was.

Sweet, sweet boy.

“I know why you think I don’t want a story, and snuggles, and all the thing Grayson gushed about for hours. But I...Do. I like when you come to tell me goodnight, and I wouldn’t mind if it lasted longer ?”

He was so unsure. Very unlike his cocky usual self.

This, was the real Damian.

The one who really wants to connect with others, who wants to be good, but he’s just not really sure on how to proceed. So he pretends he doesn’t care.

But he does. He cares a lot.

He’s very much like your Broosh, in that regard. Like father like son, eh ? Both of them love to hide emotions from their faces, and pretend everything is ok, even when they’re breaking inside.

Silly boys.

You managed to reach Bruce. You were sure you could reach your son...

And it had already started. You could see it. You smile, and leave his room to get cookies and milk.

And oh damn it, you should’ve told him you were doing that ! Because when you came back, he was laying in his bed and looked absolutely crestfallen ! There was even small tears in his eyes, oh no !

You quickly understood that he thought you were refusing to do the famous “night ritual” with him. That you just went to bed too, and weren’t going to tell him a story.

His face brightens, truly brightens, reminding you of when the sun just comes out from behind high mountains. He sees the cookies and milk, and oh. Oh he looks so excited.

You dried his tears with the back of your hand, and smiled fondly at him.

It makes everything worth it. All your effort to connect with him, worth the work and heartache it brought.

You knew. You knew you’d eventually make it. And it’s that evening, when he asked for “the night ritual”, that you truly realized it.

First, cookies and milk, and a little talk about his day. His feelings, too.

Then the story, one you made up with him as the hero. He seemed to love that, especially to be a good hero, and not a villain. Cute, and heartbreaking at the same time.

Then come the lullabies.

And finally, the soft drift to sleep, and a last feel of warmth as you kiss his forehead and leave him to a deep slumber.

Damian has never felt so peaceful in his life before.

Duke

You didn’t really dare, at first, going to tell him good night.

Unlike your other children, Duke arrived in the family being a sixteen years old boy. Way pass needing someone to tuck him in. And you didn’t want to overstep your bound, you already knew how difficult things were for him. How hard it was to adapt to it all.

It was quite the same than with Cass. But even more complicated.

Cass’ childhood was inexistent, really. Destroyed before she could enjoy it. So sometimes, when with you or Bruce, she’d let go, and act like a child, even though she was older. It was fine. She never had a childhood, she could make up for it now. And so what if she liked hot cocoas and cuddles ? Nobody would hold it against her.

In fact, most adults would probably LOVE to be taken care of by their mom again.

But Duke, was different. He had a happy childhood, parents who were loving and caring...His mom most likely told him stories, and sung him lullabies.

And he was sixteen. And in the middle of an identity crisis, as his powers just barely manifested.

So you didn’t go to tuck him in. Even if you really wanted to.

You wanted to give Cass freedom, let her explore herself, as she always lived following someone else’s orders and view of life.

But Duke ? Duke was an entirely different case from Cass. And you could see him, at times, feeling lost and sad.

You always hated having your kids go to bed upset. But what could you do ?

He was certainly not gonna let you...Or, was he ?

After all, you never asked.

“Do you...Want a bedtime story ?”

He stares at you, visibly confused and thinking you’re a little crazy. And you realize yes, this question is ridiculous. The boy was sixteen !

“Nevermind, sorry that was stupid. I was just thinking...Well I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry. Night buddy.”

“Wait !”

Uh ? There was a sort of little panic, in his voice. As if he was afraid you were leaving so soon. You turned around, and waited for him to speak again.

“Maybe not a...bedtime story but...Maybe, maybe we could talk ? For a little bit ? My...My mom and I used to talk every night, it helped me sleep.”

You felt a lot of things at the same time.

Touched he wanted to do with you what he used to do with his mom.

Reassured to realize your guts were right, and that his mom did tuck him in sweetly every night.

And sad that it took him so long to ask you for this.

“Of course Duke, of course.”

Duke, was older than any of your other children, when he came into your life. But it didn’t mean...

It didn’t mean he didn’t need you. Or your motherly side.

He never quite had the full “night ritual” experience, as some aspect of it were definitely too childish. But he had the cookies and milk. And the talk. And the feel that you would always be there for him.

Always.

************

The end ?

No.

Bruce

Bruce tossed and tossed in his bed, sleep evading him.

There used to be a time, every nights were like that. Unable to fall asleep, and when he did, his slumber was plagued with the most terrible nightmares.

Maybe that’s why, more than anything else, he decided to use his nights to be a vigilante ? Of course, the cover of nights helped in many ways, doing his Batman work in broad daylight would be more difficult (even if he did do some work during the day). Especially in regards of his “Brucie Wayne” persona, his cover up, pretending he definitely can’t be Batman.

Ever since his parents died, Bruce had trouble falling asleep. That’s probably why it was so easy for him to train himself to sleep barely a few hours a night, and stay in shape even as he often ran on very little resting time.

He lived like that for so many years...

And then. Then you appeared in his life.

And every nights in your arms were peaceful, he was taken by a deep sleep that could happen only with you. He slept so soundly, when you were there, that often when you had to wake up before him, you had to call Alfred so he’d help you untangle yourself from his grasp (I wrote a story about that haha : How to remove a Wayne safely).

You forced him to take at least one night off, and he was so sure he wouldn’t be able to rest on those nights...yet he always fell asleep like a baby, around 11 pm max, often falling asleep in front of whatever movie you were watching, just the two of you.

You had that power. To allow him to sleep well, and not have such awful nightmares.

So when you weren’t with him, he couldn’t find sleep.

He would toss, again and again, and whenever he’d almost fall asleep, his hand would unconsciously look for you in bed and the fact you were absent would make him be wide awake again.

Yes. He just couldn’t sleep, when you weren’t there.

Which is why...Which is why he was a little grumpy, when you would take a long time telling your children good night. It was a sort of jealousy he wasn’t very proud of.

Fighting other men to get your attention ? Any day. Fighting his own children...Felt a little shameful. Not like he could control this feelings, there was time, he was a little selfish. And you two had such few times to yourself, with the life you lead, that any opportunity was taken gladly.

He’d always try to be there for the story time, and for a kiss and some “Love you, kiddo” before leaving either for the cave, or to take an early night in.

Early night ins. Rare occasion.

Like tonight. His one night off this week.

He trusted his cousin, Batwoman, to take care of the city, and his oldest sons, Dick and Jason, who were now old enough to go out there on their own, too...Well, he did still hid trackers in them, and made sure to ask Kate to keep an eye on them, but they were adults.

Capable of taking care of themselves, and go out there to keep Gotham safe, and take care of their younger siblings.

They were still absolutely forbidden to go out there alone. And no one wanted to argue much with your husband about safety, he had already made punchlines for those occurrences and it was impossible to win against him.

Cass, Tim, Damian and Duke weren’t allowed yet to fly solo like their older brothers. They were only allowed to go out there while Bruce wasn’t IF they were with Kate, Dick, or Jason.

Bruce particularly liked when they were with Jason because although many would think he was the most reckless one, because of his “bad boy” reputation but...When it came to his siblings’ safety, he did NOT joke around.

Dick encouraged them to become their own person, and to take initiative (he trusted them to know what they could and could not do, and he was right). But Jason ? Jason took after you, and your “mama hen” personality, for sure.

Actually, Bruce often sneakily stuck one of his younger kid with Jason, so his reckless son would be more careful. Neither you nor your husband wanted to ever lose him again...So what if you had to resort to dirty tactics and ask him to look after a younger siblings for him to be less incautious ?

In any case, it had been a long time deal by then, that Bruce HAD to take at least one night off. All of them had; They each had one night a week. Conveniently, there were seven of them.

On those nights, you and Bruce would be together every single second of it, relishing in a little alone time, and in spending an entire night together for once, and not just a few hours there and there.

But tonight, Damian was sick, and couldn’t go out either. Which was why you weren’t in bed with Bruce, right now. You were tucking your sick son in, and it already took quite a while on normal days but as he was feeling under the weather ??

Bruce knew you. He knew you would stay with him until he fell asleep. And he knew his son, too. He knew he would try to stay awake as long as possible just to be with you.

Which meant...Your husband being alone, right now, and unable to sleep. Ugh. He should’ve just gone out as Batman tonight, and take a break another day. ...As if you or Alfred would’ve let him. You knew that “taking a break another day”, with him, meant never.

Bruce tossed a few more times, and resolved that he couldn’t sleep up until you’d come. So he sat up, and thought he might as well take a walk around the Manor. It always calmed him down, as a child...

That’s when you decided to come in.

“Going somewhere ?”

You ask him, suspicious. He knows you think he was about to leave for the Batcave. And he doesn’t correct you. It’s better you think that, you already knew way too much how to push all his buttons down, he’d rather you not know that he was in fact about to just walk around the Manor and not go to the bat cave because he promise you to take the night off...

Oh. Oh if Superman could hear his thoughts right now. He would surely not recognize his “workaholic” friend...And definitely not recognize his will to not piss off his wife, and listen to her. The Batman didn’t care, if he pissed people off ! Well. Except for his wife, who could be very scary, when angry.

Damn it.

Your face.

Your face shows much concern, behind that slight bit of anger at the thought he was about to sneak to the Batcave, that he can’t hold it back for too long.

To hell, if you were the only one who knew him perfectly, and had him wrapped around your little finger. You gave it back to him plenty. So, just as soon as he was telling himself he wouldn’t tell you the truth...He told you the truth :

“No. I was-...I was just about to take a walk around the Manor.”

You look at him, a question in your eyes. And you don’t have to ask him, as he answers :

“I can’t sleep when you’re not there. Needed to clear my mind.”

It makes you smile, of course. And it’s the truth, oh it’s the truth.

He really can’t fall asleep, when you’re not near.

You climb on the bed, and slowly move to him.

“How’s Damian ?”

“Asleep. His fever went down, finally. Thanks the gods.”

“Was he trying to fight sleep, and argue to have another story ?”

“Oh you know he did.”

“Haha, I don’t blame him. Anything, to keep you closer for longer.”

“What a sappy man you turned out to be, my heart. Who would’ve thunk, right ?”

“Don’t tell Clark.”

This makes you laugh, and you move even closer to him, settling in his laps, facing him. His hands find themselves around your waist naturally, and as you lay your own hands on his cheeks, looking at him fondly and longingly, you say :

“I love you, my Broosh.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you so much I think I’d die if you were gone.”

“I love you so much I put up with your bullshit.”

“Hahaha. Cheeky. I love you so much I eat your awful gluten free cake without batting an eye.”

“You ass ! Well, I love you so much I don’t even mention it when you call this disgusting mixture you make in the morning “coffee” “

“Oh wow, ouch. I love you so much I don’t even care about you criticize me.”

You chuckle a little, and kiss his nose, before adding :

“I love you so much, that I wouldn’t change anything in my life. Not even the heartaches...Because everything lead me to you. And a life without you, is no life at all.”

Admittedly, you cheated a bit, using his “I love you so much without you I’d die” against him, twisting things a little to pack a little more punch. And...

There’s a short pause, he looks at you, and then he leans over, slowly and softly pecking your lips. You think this means you won tonight, and you will be back in his arms in no time, allowing him to sleep properly...But you’re wrong.

He says, after burying his face in the crook of your neck, in barely a whisper, his breath tickling you softly :

“I love you so much, I would quit being Batman if you asked me to.”

“Wait, what ?”

You never asked him to. You never did, and never will. Because you were on of the only person on this Earth that truly understood him, and that loved him unconditionally.

You knew and understood why he dressed like a bat each (or almost each) nights, to go fight crimes in Gotham City.

You knew and understood all of his motives.

And for this reason, you’d never ask him to stop doing so. But him admitting he would stop if you did ask, it made you feel...So much.

It touched you beyond all measure. You didn’t even know how to respond to it.

“Ah, I win, didn’t I ?”

You had no words to answer. You knew how much you loved him, how much he meant to you, and how impossible it was to even envision a life without him. But he always managed to surprise YOU with how deeply in love he was with you. How much he’d give up, just for you. How you knew, he would burn the entire world, if it meant saving you...

He would for his children, too. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had been to that warehouse sooner, and killing the Joker meant saving Jason...he would’ve done it. There was no point doing in afterward, once his son was already gone...But there, in the moment, to save him ?

He would. He would kill everyone, just to save his family.

This was a side not a lot of people knew. They all assumed he wouldn’t do it, that he would let you or his children die for the greater good. That��s why considering, you guys weren’t kidnapped that much.

Every villain, everyone, always thought that the Batman would not budge from his principles even if it meant saving those he loved.

And they were wrong. They were so wrong.

It was good, though, that only you knew that.

“Ah. I win, didn’t I ?”

You don’t have the words to answer him, your heart overflowing with so much. Overwhelming. So you go to the next best thing.

Actions.

You kiss him. With all the passion and love you can gather in your being.

You kiss him, and he kisses you back.

That.

That was his night ritual.

The only way he could fall asleep peacefully, like he used to when his mom and dad tucked him in. Before their death.

Finding purchase once more, in your arms, after years of night plagued with nightmares and pain.

Being near you. With you. In every way possible. Touching you, feeling you near. Right there. By him.

The big bad bat’s “night ritual”, it was you.

It was, and would always be you.

The end (for good, this time, haha).

_________________________________________________

As you might’ve noticed, I’m in a very soft mood lately haha. I guess I’m just happy about my current situation, so I wanna write all the fluff and make the Batfam happy...Not for long though. I have some mighty angst in store for you, just you wait ;). In any case, here’s to a small bonus story. Hope you liked it even if it’s not what I said I’d post ^^'. I assure you what I planned is coming, I’m just being damn slow. As usual any comments and reblogs are more than welcomed <3.

PS : Last time I posted a bonus story, an anon wasn’t happy I wasn’t posting longer stories I said I would post soon haha...So just a quick thing : those stories I’ve been posting lately literally take between 20 minutes to an hour to write. It’s extra fast, and I don’t re-read myself. So I can post them rather rapidly. But those I have in store that are long as hell and full on one-shots I thought a lot about, not just random drabbles, need a lot more work. Which is why they take longer. Which I’d think is obvious to everyone (most of y’all are super understanding and nice <3), but I guess not huh...Please. Be patient with me. I’m super busy lately. But everything I said I’d post WILL be posted. I can promise this much.

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vinnival · 3 years

Note

Ooh, I just remembered that today is the 19th anniversary of Hank's first massacre and therefore Madness Combat itself. Since the idea of the halo-wristband reader has become a sort of mini-series now, I'm requesting another short story that's sort of prequel that takes place during Madness Combat 1 where the reader decides to help Hank get the boombox and shows how they first got the halo wristband (dropped by Jebus probably)

AHHH 19 YEARS!!??????!?!? when madness combat is older than you </3 i am ignoring all of my requests (ily all) and doing this in commemoration!!!!!

Genesis

(bible reference... ironic)

As much as you hoped it would be, this past week was anything but normal. Everything you knew around you started falling apart at your whim- this new supernatural object that you managed to acquire seven or eight days ago did all of it.

It all began when you were cuddling up on your lovely little couch in Arizona. You were so content, so happy, watching your comfort movie after a good week of work.

Then you had the urge to go on a walk. Something was telling you to just go out and enjoy nature. Your brain almost made it seem like you'd never see trees again.

Nevertheless, you relented. It was a nice day, so why not?

You gathered your things and exited, opting to go to the sort-of close by park.

...

You trotted along, breathing in the beautiful air and humming to yourself. After a while, you heard music. Interested, you headed towards the sound.

A party seemed to be happening! You smiled when one of the people there waved you over- they must've seen you wistfully staring at the group.

Though, through the festive mood, you can sense something was off. You tried to take your mind off of it, sitting down at a tree and drinking the complimentary drink that you gained from the one that invited you over.

You spotted another person sitting at the tree. They looked kind of lonely and sad, so you scooted closer to them.

"Hello," you mumbled over to the other person. They tilted their head in your direction- not fully looking at you.

Their hand raised to toss a wave at you.

"Don't talk much, huh?"

They shook their head.

"Could I at least get a name, please?"

"...Hank."

"Ah, hello, Hank! Cool name!" You smiled, and told him your name.

You two talked (mostly you, obviously) for a while. Alas, that feeling... it just couldn't leave you.

You were about to comment on the strange atmosphere when you realized, that song has been going on for wayyyy too long.

"Huh, this is a really long song."

Hank looked up, glancing at the one hogging the boom box. You can tell they were annoyed at the song by now... honestly? You were too.

He got up, and approached the boombox DJ, tapping on their shoulder.

And... oh fuck, all hell broke loose.

You flinched when the boombox guy pushed Hank, Hank pushed back, some punches broke out, and then a brawl followed immediately after.

You frantically hid behind the tree from everyone... why was that one person still dancing?

"Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into..." you whispered to yourself once you started hearing gunfire.

Around a minute passed.

Soon, you noticed a strange-looking man with a golden glowing... IS THAT A HALO?

Things got weirder and weirder, how was Hank surviving the onslaught of attackers? Why was that man look like an angel? Scratch that, why does he look like Jesus Christ himself?

A stupid thought popped into your head.

Maybe... maybe if I make a run for it, I'll live?

You acted on that idea.

Preparing, you bolted out from the safety of the tree. While running, you glanced behind you, and began slowing down.

Hank seemed to be in battle (using a shotgun, where did he get that?) against this mysterious halo man. That's when you noticed something fly out of his pockets when Hank landed a shot to his shoulder.

Fly out of his pockets... flying all the way over to your location.

You stopped in your tracks. It was sparkly and gold, just like the halo...

You reached out.

It's like the stars aligned perfectly, like fate designed this for you... the gold thing slid perfectly onto your arm, resting on your wrist.

You choked as the feeling of you being dunked in ice-cold water washed over you.

Through your blurry senses, you can hear the yell of surprise from someone else. All you could see were very blurry blobs slowly making their way towards you. They were a sickly green color.

You came to just before the zombies attacked you.

Dodging just in the nick of time, you stumbled.

How were you supposed to fight? You've never trained for or engaged in combat before!

The perception of reality you once had was actively being shattered.

Zombies?

A man with a halo, who seems to have literal godlike abilities?

Hank SURVIVING said godlike abilities?!

"This is literal fucking madness," you breathed.

Your head whipped over to more zombies, about to dive at you.

Deciding to shield yourself with only your arms, you accepted your inevitable early death. If only you had an actual shiel-

Your thoughts were interrupted by your nerves rushing once again, this time with less cold liquid.

When the attacks never landed, you looked again to see a dome-like shield protecting you. The zombies were banging on the thing, trying to break it.

For only a couple seconds, you were confused. Then, your mind clicked together, looking down at the new halo-like bracelet. It shone with an ethereal light, the same color as the shield.

Holy fuck, I have superpowers.

You watched as Hank finally shooed off that mysterious man. You briefly wondered why the man didn't come after you for the thing that he's lost, but didn't dwell on it.

Hank rushed over and killed the last few zombies attacking your safety bubble, and nodded to you when you finally diminished the shield- you were also gawking at your newfound abilities- and got up.

"Tha... thank you, Hank..."

"Mmm," was all he said.

You looked down at the bracelet again.

"This... this fell out of that guys' pocket..." you began.

And, well... the rest was history.

And so on this day our hero had slain thirty men (thirty seven, if you count the zombies), and our other hero acquired a new powerful artifact.

They would later admit to having a good time doing it.

#this was so fun to write #madness combat #happy birthday madness combat #wooowowooo!!!!!! the big one nine!!!!#madness combat hank #madness combat jebus #madness combat reader insert #madness combat x reader

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clareguilty · 3 years

Text

Only Yours

My second follower giveaway fic! These are coming out wayyyy longer than i anticipated so thats why they take so long LOL Charles Smith/fem!Reader Word Count: ~2600 Rating: Explicit | A/B/O, heats/ruts, smut, inherent dubcon of heats/ruts

It should never have been so sudden. Out of the blue. One minute, you were making your way through the crowd of the train station, and the next you could feel everyone’s eyes on you.

Most of the looks were of pity. Your discomfort and fear were written clear across your face.

And then there was the danger. A pack of men in dark coats who were making their way off the platform had turned at the scent of the wind.

You were an omega, alone, going into heat.

It had come out of nowhere, weeks earlier than you anticipated. Otherwise they never would have put you up for this job, never would have dropped you off in Saint Denis by yourself.

Still, you were on the middle of the train platform, surrounded by people. You were safe for now. No one would try anything unless they could get you alone. You just had to do your part.

Dutch had explained the job carefully. You would board the train in the city, case the passenger cars and anywhere else before the rest of the gang slowed the train farther out into the marsh. Once they boarded, you would lead them to the wealthiest passengers and steal as much as you could before escaping with them.

Except now you were going to be the most noticeable passenger on board, unmated and on your own at the very start of your heat. The law would no doubt be able to track you by your scent alone once you escaped the train.

You kept your eyes to the ground as you handed the conductor your ticket, intentionally picking a seat as far back away from the other passengers as possible. Most of them were polite enough to give you your space.

The fever was setting in, and the last place you wanted to be was around all of these strangers. Why couldn’t you be at camp? Safely curled up in your tent with the others to look after you?

It felt like an eternity before the car pulled out of the station and over the murky water. You watched it all pass by with your fingers curled tightly in your skirt and your lip caught between your teeth.

You still had quite a while until you reached the location Dutch had planned to stop the train. Trapped in your seat, you watched the feathered plumes of the ladies a few seats ahead of you bob with their conversation.

The sound of the wheels screeching on the tracks snapped you out of your daze, and you glanced out the window to confirm that is was far too soon for the train to stop. Something wasn’t going according to plan.

That something revealed itself in a booming voice in the car ahead of you. “Why don’t you go ahead and see if these folks have any valuables while I look for our little treasure.” It was an unfamiliar voice, definitely not someone from the gang. You knew you weren’t safe, not in your state.

The door to the car banged open and you slid down in your seat until you were out of sight. “She’s in here,” the voice called. “I can smell her.”

Oh. That would be you. The only one on this train dealing with a particular biological failing that made you detectable to anyone around.

“Where is she?” the man demanded. You knew these strangers would give you up in a heartbeat. Sure enough, heavy boot steps sounded down the aisle towards where you were hiding. “Come out, come out,” he teased.

You pulled your revolver from your satchel, pulling the hammer back as quietly as possible. You could definitely shoot this guy, then maybe escape out of the back of the car before anyone else could get you.

The man came into view and you recognized him as one of the leering asses from the train station. An alpha, but a dangerous one. He seemed surprised to find you with a gun in your hand, but he only chuckled and lunged for you.

You squeezed the trigger.

He staggered back, clearly offended that you shot him. You didn’t wait around, climbing over the seat in front of you and stumbling down the aisle with your head spinning. The other robbers noticed you, glancing up from the car ahead. You gathered your skirts and jumped the moment you reached the platform beyond the car door. Scrambling away from the tracks you took off through the mud and the trees. You had only made it a few yards when someone massive tackled you to the ground and the sound of a gunshot rang through the air, startling the birds.

You had moved to elbow your attacker when a low, familiar voice reached your ears.

“It’s just me.You’re safe. We need to move quickly.”

“Charles,” you breathed. “Thank Christ.” Charles was probably one of the only alphas you trusted to be around you during your heat. Some of that may have been attributed to your poorly hidden feelings for him, but also because he was a good man.

“C’mon,” he pulled you to your feet and led you into the brush, whistling for Taima. You climbed into the saddle as soon as she came into view. Charles settled in behind you and you dutifully passed him the reins. He spurred her into a swift gallop, racing along the tracks. “We need to tell the others the train has already been hit.”

“I can’t stay,” you said. “They’ll track my scent.”

“We’ll go north.”

“No!” you exclaimed. “I have to go alone.”

Charles hummed low, not happy with your defiance. “I’m not letting you.”

You wanted to argue, but knew it was useless. You didn’t even have a horse to take. You would have to ride with him. But the thought of being alone with Charles when you were so out of your mind -- what if you made a mistake?

A lantern was lit at the sound of Taima’s hooves, and Lenny’s face peeked out of the trees. “It’s Charles!” he called.

One by one, Dutch, John, Arthur, and Bill appeared out of the dusk.

“The train was hit by another group about two miles back. You all should scatter before the law gets here.” Charles reported.

John and Arthur nodded. Dutch reached for your hand where it was clinging to the saddle horn. You fought the urge to recoil. As much as you were loyal to Dutch, you did not want him near you when you were in heat. “Are you going to be alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “They’ve got my scent. I’ve got to get out of here quick. I’ll head back to camp in a few days.”

Dutch nodded, turning and immediately shouting orders to the other men. Charles turned Taima and took off again. It was a blessing that damn horse could cover so much ground. The two of you made it to the plains in just a few tortuous hours. Hours of you trying to ignore how close you were to Charles, how right it felt to be near him, how much you wanted more.

Charles followed along the creek bed until you came to a run down mill. “We can stay here for the time being,” he said. You staggered out of the saddle. The door was locked, but easy enough to pick without breaking. You scoped out the dusty interior.

It looked safe enough. Charles dropped a lantern, bedroll, and saddle bag before heading back out to take care of Taima.

You lit the lantern and hid yourself away in the corner. Your heat had only grown stronger and you worried what you would do with Charles so close by. You trusted him. With your life. But he was still and alpha, and just the nearness to him during the ride had made your life a living hell of desire and frustration.

He finished bringing things in and taking care of Taima. When he saw where you were curled in on yourself he frowned, watching carefully for a moment.

“Would you like me to stay outside?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you said weakly.

He nodded. “Do you need anything?” you noticed he was favoring his left arm as he looked through his saddlebag. In the dim lantern light you could see the blood staining his shirt.

“You’re hurt!” you shot up off the ground. “What happened?” you rushed to his side, bracing yourself on the table as your head spun.

“It’s nothing,” he said, grabbing a tonic and a roll of gauze from his bag.

“The men from the train,” you remembered the gunshot. They must have been aiming for you and hit Charles when he tackled you.

“It’s just a scrape,” Charles insisted.

“Let me clean it. It’s the least I can do.” You tried to pry the gauze from his hands.

He relented after a moment of stubbornness. You tugged at his shirt as silent instruction for him to remove it. Maybe you would have time to wash and mend it during your heat -- though it wasn’t likely.

“We shouldn’t-” Charles pushed you away. You knew it was just as hard for him to be near you as it was for you to be near him. He was everything your body wanted: a protective alpha to watch over you and keep you safe. And you were catering to his every instinct at the moment.

“Hold your breath. I’ll do the same.” You grabbed the clearest liquor you could find and wet your bandana to wash away the blood.

He growled low at the sting, but kept his gaze pointed away. You held your own breath, trying to keep your eyes on the scrape instead of anything else. The broadness of his chest, the shine of his hair, the unmarred skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

You weren’t looking.

It felt like too long before you tied off the bandage. But you couldn’t pull your fingers from his skin, letting them trail over the muscles of his arm.

Charles grabbed your wrist, squeezing in warning. “Don’t,” he breathed.

“I trust you,” you said. You knew it was just the heat talking. At least partially. But those poorly hidden feelings of yours were tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. “If it were going to be anyone, I’d want it to be you.”

He moved on instinct, to fast for you to understand. You were flush against his chest, held tightly in his arms.

“I’m not that good. I don’t deserve you.” He looked pained, avoiding your gaze.

“What do you mean? You’re one of the best men I know.” Now that you were in his arms, you let yourself run your hands over his chest.

“Why would I have brought you all the way out here alone? Would it not have been safer for you to go with Lenny?” He grinned wryly, as if he was disappointed in himself.

It was true, Lenny was a beta but still perfectly capable of protecting you. You could just as easily have left with him.

But you liked being with Charles, and you were flattered that he would want you like that.

“I’m selfish,” Charles said.

“I want you to be selfish,” you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his bare skin.

He lifted you into his arms and knelt so he could lay you down on his bedroll. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

“I want you to,” you moaned, baring your neck to him. You were done fighting off your desires, and you just wanted to be knotted and mated and taken.

“Take your clothes off before I tear them,” he growled. You had never undone your buttons so fast in your life. It felt like a victory, knowing that Charles wanted you, that he would have you like this.

Charles removed his trousers and helped you tug your skirts over your thighs. “I’m going to knot you,” he murmured. He crawled over you, kissing you feverishly as you clung to him. He kissed over your jaw, down your neck to the sensitive, aching skin just above your collarbone.

You turned your head to bare your neck, gasping at the slight scrape of teeth. “Please,” you begged. It was the heat talking. As much as you cared for Charles, it was irresponsible of him to mate you, especially when you could barely think about anything but his knot.

He chuckled, his breath warm against your already burning skin. “Not today.” His lips trailed down over your chest. You were thankful that he would watch over you, keep you from making any rash decisions. There was no other alpha you trusted like him. He was the only one who could have you like this. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him up for a bruising kiss.

You slid onto his lap, thighs bracketing his hips. His cock was hard and aching between your bodies. He leaned back, and you moved so you could grind your dripping pussy along his length. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

He held still as you lifted your hips and began to sink down onto his cock. “Ah, fuck,” you dug your nails into his shoulders as your thighs shook.

“Easy now,” he moved his hands to your hips to help support you. You didn’t want easy. You wanted to be filled. Furrowing your brows, you took him as deep as you could in one motion. Both of you moaned at the sudden sensation. He was so deep inside you, the swell of his knot pressing against your clit. You rolled your hips carefully, delighting in the way Charles’s hold on you tightened.

Every movement felt so good; you began to ride him desperately, spurred on by your heat. His hands roamed over you body, squeezing your ass and rubbing over your thighs.

You came embarrassingly quickly, you hips stuttering and shaking as you tightened around his cock. Charles -- remarkably strong even for an alpha -- simply grabbed your hips and moved you on his cock, chasing his own release.

It was everything you needed, fucked through the oversensitivity and aftershocks of your orgasm, stoking the desire that still burned through you. With a thrust of his hips, Charles knotted you. You cried out and fell forward against his chest, panting and whimpering as he filled you.

It was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and Charles’s low moans. Both of you laid still for several minutes, enjoying the feeling of being tied together.

You were pulled from the haze of pleasure as Charles lifted you off of him. His knot slipped free and you winced. You were still very much in heat, and the emptiness was like an ache.

“Turn over for me,” Charles murmured, and you obeyed. Laying on your stomach, resting your head on your arms, you were surprised when Charles pushed your thighs apart.

Oh. You got the message. You lifted your ass, spreading your legs so Charles could push back into you from behind. “That’s a good girl,” he squeezed your ass.

It felt so good, being taken from behind. Charles’s cock seemed to hit every right spot as he fucked you into the bedroll.

“You’re sleeping in my tent when we get back to camp,” he said, voice breathy and low. “You’re going to be mine. No one else can have you.”

“Yours,” you moaned as he knotted you again. He continued to move, fucking you with shallow thrusts as he came again.

You whine when he moved you again, rolling you so both of you could lay on your sides with Charles still inside you. “Get some rest,” he murmured.

“Only yours,” you murmured, lost to your heat and the pleasure. Just the warmth of Charles holding you, his scent. Only his.

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kim-chann · 3 years

Text

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

❝ Confession ❞ -- Coffee Truffle Cake

- - - | Yūji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, Satoru Gojo

〄 Order Instructions ;; Hello again ! I was the anon who asked for ideal date headcannons for Megumi and Yuji and I absolutely loved them. 🥺🥺🥺 Thank you for taking time out of your day to write that !I’m here to request headcannons on how the first years and Gojo would confess to their crush ! :3

-- Anon

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ $ 2.45

༺ Chef’s Note: I’m sorry that this took a month for me to get to. I really hope that this is okay, and I hope that you enjoy your order. I’ve been doing okay for the last month, and I think I’m doing better than last time. Sorry for the long absents, please come again soon!

༺ Chef’s Note: Sorry if some parts are cringey, I tried my best because ending a confession headcanon is honestly harder than I thought. Also, I felt creative with Megumi’s lol.

〄 ⤷ Yūji Itadori | 虎杖悠仁 - - -

☉ The way the Yuji would confess to his crush would be 50/50; straight forward, or implied so terribly that the person he was trying to confess to made it seem less obvious that he liked them

☉ Yuji is a straight forward person, and sometimes, he just speaks his mind without thinking and his attitude is completely nonchalant

☉ However, with you as his weakness, he just feels all jittery and shy all of the sudden, he just goes quiet whenever he’s around you because he doesn’t know what to say with butterflies invading his stomach

☉ The thing is, Yuji won’t really confess unless it takes him 100 years or at least some random confidence out of nowhere, so you may have to imply it yourself

☉ It’s honestly pretty obvious by the way he acts with his hand fiddling, his cheeks a shade more rosy than his usual shade, the way he walks, the way he talks, and how he avoids eye contact whenever you call his name

☉ Nobara or Megumi will pick up on this and immediately call you into cafe after school to talk

☉ Nobara will be the first one to tell you that Yuji has an obvious crush on you and scolds you how you didn’t even acknowledge it when it was right in front of you

☉ “It’s so obvious! How can you not tell, (Y/n)!” Nobara groans

☉ “I agree with Kugisaki. He’s been trying to confess to you for a while.” Megumi adds on, taking a sip of his black coffee

☉ Then the game would be set if you and Yuji racing to confess to each other (if you reciprocate it, that is)

☉ The next following days, you’ll notice Yuji helping you around more often, taking things off of your work and doing them for you, complimenting you out of nowhere, it’s hard not to blush at his attempts to court you.

☉ The sudden gain of confidence is sort of scary, but you’re trying your best to make sure that he can tell that you’re interested in him too

☉ With you giving him a towel for his sweat after training, buying him a drink, treating him lunch, and praising him, it became more noticeable how his face gleams with fluster as he hears your every word and observes every action that you do, it’s honestly adorable (he’s like a puppy!)

☉ At the end of the day it alls ends well with just a simple--

☉ “(Y/n), I like you!”

☉ “Yuji, I like you!”

☉ The two of you would never forget the way how you both stared into each others eyes, full of wonder and confusion. Both your minds trying their best to process those synchronised words that the two of you have been meaning to tell.

☉ Yuji would in shock and deny it at first, not knowing what to say, “Wha? No, no wayyyy!”

☉ And the next thing you know, you’re in his arms while his face is buried in your neck, his grip tight and comfortable. “You don’t understand how long I’ve been wanting to hear those words from you (Y/n)...”

☉ It will all end so sweet and well, give him a kiss on the cheek and this boy is gone for the day.

〄 ⤷ Megumi Fushiguro | 伏黒恵 - - -

☉ I don’t know how this dude will ever get confident to tell you that he likes you in the first place pfft.

☉ I know, I know, Megumi is an honest and a straight forward boy, but just the words, “(Y/n), I like you,” honestly just leaves him breathless with anxiety

☉ Megumi would definitely be the type to wake up in the morning and think of you while brushing his teeth and attempt to practice confessing to you in front of a mirror. But Megumi would realise how childish and embarrassing he’s acting and immediately stop.

☉ It’s not really obvious to an acquaintance to see Megumi be all quiet, but to people who’re close to Megumi like Yuji and Nobara, notice the way how he looks you at you, the way that his eyes shimmer with a little bit of light every time you smile, and how he just talks to the elders for them to give you less work. It all made Yuji and Nobara quirk a brow.

☉ “Oi, Fushiguro.”

☉ Megumi turns around to see Nobara and Yuji standing side by side, hands on their hips, “What’s up with you?”

☉ “It’s nothing really,” Megumi states, attempting to walk past them. Nobara groans and pulls him back with the back of his collar, “Oi, we’re not stupid! You’re acting so weird. It’s gross.”

☉ “Tch, I said that it’s nothing...!” He tries to flee away from his classmates but they just pull him back with a pout.

☉ “Hey, Megumi-- Oh! Hey! What’re you all doing here?” You pop out from the corner of the corridor and walk up to them, hands full fo boxes.

☉ “Oh, we’re just chatting.” Megumi spoke before the other two can.

☉”I see, I’ll be on my way, see you guys around!” You start to step to away, “Oh yeah, and Megumi, can I talk to you later?”

☉ He just nods.

☉ Nobara and Yuji stare at Megumi with their eyes bulging out of their sockets when they saw how Megumi’s eyes soften just hearing you. It surprised him how hostile he was, to soft in a second he heard your voice.

☉ “The hell was that?!” Nobara and Yuji yell at him.

☉ “It’s nothing, you idiots!”

☉ “You know what? I’m going to doll you up tonight for you to tell (Y/n) your feelings, this is stupid that you’re trying to hide it when it’s obvious. But honestly, I never expected Fushiguro to admire someone. I thought you were the type to say, ‘ah, this is a waste of time,’ and continue on your day.”

☉ “I’m not--”

☉ “I agree with Kugisaki, I’d honestly thought you’d be more into books instead of real people.” Yuji says.

☉ “You guys!” He whines through gritted teeth, pinching them at the back of their ears.

☉ Later that night, Nobara and Yuji dragged Megumi into Nobara’s dorm. Right now, he was sitting in Nobara’s chair, while Nobara applies slight makeup on his face. He has never felt more embarrassed in his life until now.

☉ “Is that necessary?” Megumi asks as Nobara applies mascara on his lashes. “Most definitely,” she replies, with a quick whisper of, “why do you have such nice eyelashes... I’m jealous.”

☉ When he came up to you that night, he wanted to die when you turned to him and saw visible lip gloss and mascara on his face, “Megumi! My god, come here!”

☉ Megumi’s breath hitches when you bring him closer to you, face just a couple inches a part when you brush your fingers gently on his skin to feel the makeup with a grin.

☉ “This honestly just proves to me that you’re a pretty boy, Megumi!”

☉ “A-A what?”

☉ “You’re a pretty boy.”

☉ “I’m not...”

☉ “Mmhm, sure, why don’t you look in the mirror and say that, and tell me if there’s a lie?”

☉ “...No.”

☉ “Aw, then I guess you accept that you’re a pretty boy.”

☉ He turns to you, “I never said--”

☉ “I’m messing with you, Megumi!” You say with a laugh, “Gosh, this is why I love you so much--”

☉ The silence was painfully silent.

☉ “(Y/n)...”

☉ “I-- forget what I said, I--”

☉ “I like you too.”

☉ “Huh?” You turn to him, eyes wide.

☉ “You heard what I said... I like you.” He repeats himself again.

☉ Megumi went to this dorm that night with makeup on his face, and a visible kiss mark on his cheek. And the thing that stood out the most was a smile.

☉ (Sorry if that ending was bad, I didn’t know how to end it...)

〄 ⤷ Norbara Kugisaki | 釘崎野薔薇 - - -

☉ Nobara is the most straight forward against her two male classmates.

☉ But that doesn’t mean that she wouldn’t be nervous.

☉ Nobara would most likely confess after getting to know you for a while. Nobara would gain you respect for everything you do, and once she’s settled that you’re the one, she will try to confess as soon as possible because she doesn’t want anyone else attempt to court you

☉ She’s the type of girl to fight people who even look at you the wrong way and defends your name if someone talks shit about you.

☉ “The hell did you say?”

☉ “Oi, come over here and say it to my face, I dare you.”

☉ Stuff like that

☉ It’s sort of scary when she’s in everyone’s business when it involves negativity around you. Sure, you appreciate the gesture, but sometimes, it just gets out of hand, so make sure to let her know what she’s doing a lot for you and she will listen to you (temporarily before she throws hands with people for you again)

☉ Nobara will also give you little gifts out of nowhere every time she shops. She really takes pride the way that you smile and is grateful for the gifts.

☉ Sometimes, she’ll invite you to go shopping with her and insists that she pays for everything because it’s her treat.

☉ Nobara is really sweet on how she treats someone she cares about, and she will always make sure that you’re spoiled and happy

☉ The way that she confesses will be during a hang out or during lunch

☉ “Hey, (Y/n), can I tell you something...?” She’d start off, her cheeks rosy. Once you encourage her she’ll confess, “I like you. I really like you... I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t simply put it into words.”

☉ She will be biting her lip, her eyebrows narrowed with her fingers fiddling around with each other, awaiting your response.

☉ “Nobara, I like you too!”

☉ Once she hears those words from you, she’ll let out a dramatic sigh of relief before holding your hand.

☉ “Oh my god, thank you so, so much. This was going to give me an acne breakout just feeling one-sided for a while... but thank you for telling me the things I was scared about was all me.”

☉ Now that she’s your girlfriend, expect her to be inviting you to her dorm to watch movies or even put makeup on you or do a skin routine together

〄 ⤷ Satoru Gojo | 互助悟 - - -

☉ He won’t confess, he’ll tease you in attempt to make YOU confess

☉ Gojo is an asshole and won’t be straight forward at all. He’ll be left and right, and up and down, and you can’t predict his movements.

☉ But he is straight forward on teasing the hell out of you.

☉ “Aww~ (Y/n)! Do you like me?~ You don’t have to be shy, you can say it! Say, ‘Gojo san, I like you’~” Before he just laughs at your unreadable expression.

☉ But it makes it confusing how he teases you about liking him, when he’s the one initiating everything. Gojo will give you gifts out of nowhere, then pout that you owe him, share his sweets with you, then complain that there’s less, or sometimes he’ll even treat you for lunch or dinner whenever the two of you are free

☉ Gojo is like a child, and he honestly will get whatever he wants somehow because he “deserves it” according to him

☉ He’s a touchy person and he always gets into everyone personal space, so expect him to be randomly holding your hand, have an arm around your shoulder, hug you, or just ruffle your hair

☉ It’s sweet but it can get annoying, fast

☉ But by the way that he laughs at your angered state, it almost seems like he wants this reaction

☉ So if you decide to play with him and pretend to be content with his actions, he’ll be really confused.

☉ Gojo makes you mad on purpose, but if you show gratitude or any sense of content with his teasing one day, he wouldn’t know what to do.

☉ “(Y/n),” he calls, his tone serious, “Are you high? Did someone drug you?”

☉ He immediately thinks that you’re on something to be content with his actions because he has never met someone who show’d content

☉ But since your smiles and laughter has thrown him off guard, he’ll be staring at you with awe, his mouth agape every time you joke around with him or smile at him

☉ It just proves that he likes you, rather than him thinking you like him.

☉ Which leads to an unintentional and inferred confession, “Hey, (Y/n), do you wanna get dinner with me tomorrow night? I’m free.” Gojo invites

☉ “Is it a date?” You tease.

☉ The dead silence is a give away.

☉ “If we make it one, yes, love~” He pulls his blindfold over his head and sends you a wink and a grin, his cheeks a shade of pink before he leaves the room.

☉ Once he leaves, he’ll put his hand in a fist and chant, “YES!” before he continues on his day, happier and peppier than usual (which is creepy to his students and Nanami)

༺ Chef’s Note: Sorry that it gets bad at the end but I hope that this is okay, thank you for ordering! Please come again soon!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #kugisaki nobara #gojo satoru #anon

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plus-ultra-oof · 3 years

Text

Break Time! | Bokuto & Kuroo | Haikyuu!! | Tickle Fic

A/N: This is one of the fastest things I’ve ever written lol. I love Bokuto and Kuroo’s friendship a lot but this could be read as Bokuroo too.

Disclaimer: Includes swearing and minor spoilers for the timeskip (Kuroo’s future plans are vaguely mentioned)

Summary: Kuroo’s working himself to death with exam season on the horizon and Bokuto has just the idea to “help.”

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Upon a third glance at Kuroo in just a few minutes, Bokuto had determined something was wrong. He could hear him sigh and shift in his seat from where he was sat on his bed. It wasn’t in the restless way that Bokuto was feeling right now though. It was a lot more tired. He narrowed his eyes at his friend, taking in his stiff posture and tense jaw. Rubbing his eyes with one hand Kuroo scrubbed an eraser across his paper with the other, the movement far harsher than necessary. He craned his neck to read something out of a textbook and his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to comprehend it. The near silence in the room aside from his friend’s quiet frustration was honestly freaking Bokuto out.

When he’d shown up at the other captain’s front door, he’d been ready to go get food, screw around in his backyard, and maybe see an action movie or something. They’d planned this for weeks in advance —their schedules were both pretty packed— and as far as Bokuto knew they were both really looking forward to it. He’d prepared to just mess around and have some simple fun, so he was really surprised when Kuroo opened the door with a tight frown on his lips and not at all dressed for a day out.

“Bo?” Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows as his arms came up to cross over his chest, “what are you-“ Realization took over his features and after a few mumbled curses to himself, Kuroo opened the door further and let him in. The house was the same as Bokuto remembered it: Clean, but still clearly lived in. The mild clutter was charming in its own way and Bokuto had seen it when he’d visited his friend in the past. Kuroo himself was actually the only thing that seemed different.

His hair was messier than usual somehow and the beginnings of dark circles were smudged under his eyes. Instead of his usually clean and neat clothes, he was in a ratty white t-shirt and some old looking red sweats with “Nekoma” written down the sides in faded white block letters. It wasn’t just that though, all of his apologies and attempts at conversation also seemed off as he led Bokuto up the stairs to his room. Like his heart wasn’t really in it with his mind so preoccupied.

“Sorry man, I completely forgot, my bad it’s just-“ he cut himself off with a sigh as he heavily dropped into his desk chair. Bokuto felt overwhelmed just looking at the numerous stacks of heavy books lining the desk, so of course he hadn’t protested when his friend asked for another hour to finish up. He hadn’t been excited to sit and do nothing for an hour, but even he wasn’t going to complain when the usually cool and collected guy seemed so frazzled.

So after running back down to the kitchen to grab some snacks, he’d settled down on Kuroo’s bed to wait, scrolling aimlessly through his phone to try and quell his boredom and keep his restlessness at bay for a bit.

That, of course, didn’t work for long. After maybe 50 minutes —a new record!— he started stealing glances at Kuroo over his phone and as time continued to pass he became more and more concerned. He could practically feel the stress rolling off him in waves as he flipped through another workbook, so Bokuto did the only thing he could think to do at the moment, with what little information he had on whatever was happening; He messaged Kenma.

After tapping out a simple “whats wrong with Kuroo?” he’d set his phone down, not expecting much from it. Even though he barely contacted the guy on his own, Bokuto knew Kenma was terrible at responding to anyone who wasn’t Hinata. This obviously meant his chances of getting a reply before the day ended were slim. He practically jumped to grab his phone when it lit up again, only minutes after sending the message. Pretty damn fast for Kenma of all people.

From Kozume Kenma:

entrance exams. he’s been like that all week.

Ohhhhh. That made sense. Bokuto looked over at Kuroo again, as he glared down at his calculator, a new kind of disdain burning in his eyes. Bokuto hadn’t given the exams much thought honestly, but to Kuroo they surely mattered a lot.

When Kuroo told him that he was going to be quitting Volleyball once they graduated to pursue a career in the marketing side of things, Bokuto’d both understood completely and not gotten it at all.

He’d never really know how anyone could give up something that gave him such a thrill and brought him such joy. Sure, Nekoma wasn’t exactly a powerhouse school, but Kuroo was still a damn good blocker. He surely could’ve made it onto at least a division 2 team if he tried. Still, his friend was different. He wanted something else and that was okay. What wasn’t okay was the fact that he seemed set on working himself to death for it.

To Kozume Kenma:

k im gonna fix him

This time the reply was instantaneous. A simple “good luck” that felt suspiciously like Kenma doubting him. He scoffed, looking over at Kuroo again. The guy was probably even more tired than he looked. Koutaro could definitely take him in the messed up state he was in. Then again, he was incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be.

Bokuto glanced down at his phone. He’d already gone 20 minutes over the promised hour. That plus the whole week Kenma described had to be enough time for now. Going for that long without a real break sounded insane to Bokuto, and there was no way it was healthy either.

“Hey Kuroo,” Bokuto called, sitting up and grabbing his phone after sending a final text off to Kenma (An assortment of emojis portraying his confidence and competence at the given task). When his eyes fell on Kuroo, he hadn’t moved at the sound of his name.

“Kuroo?” He tried again. Still no response. It seemed the blocker was lost in his own world of textbooks and pages on pages of meticulous notes. Bokuto practically shuddered at the sight. He didn’t know how his friend could stare at all of that for so long.

Standing and taking a few steps away from the bed landed him right behind the desk chair. He frowned. Kuroo still hadn’t even noticed him moving around. Then he reached across the desk to retrieve a different colored pen and an idea popped into his head. Bokuto, always quite the impulsive person, followed it without question.

He quietly set his phone down on the opposite side of the desk to free his other hand and then reached out and jabbed him in the ribs on both sides. The action was instantly rewarded with a jolt and a squeak from Kuroo, a clatter from his pencil when it fell from his hand, and a loud triumphant laugh from Bokuto himself. Kuroo whipped around, scowling, “What the hell, man?”

“Your hour is way up bro,” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him and scrambled for his phone. Once he found it beneath a large stack of colorful print outs, Bokuto saw the suspicion and slight annoyance in his eyes turn into guilt.

“Shit,” he turned to actually face him and Bokuto could see the way his shoulders sagged and his hands fidgeted in his lap in a very un-Kuroo-like fashion, “I’m sorry Bo,”

Koutaro gave him a bright smile in an extra effort to assuage his guilt, “It’s no problem, we can just go now!” He exclaimed, straightening and nodding at the door. Kuroo hesitated at that but before he could say anything, Bokuto’s phone chimed from its place on the desk. It lit up for both of them to see and Kuroo’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Why’s Kenma texting you?” He asked. A hint of his usual smirk flashed across his face as he peered at the deadpan emoticon, familiar and characteristic of his childhood friend. Bokuto bristled at the question. Why wouldn’t Kenma text him? Sure they weren’t exactly close, but Kuroo didn’t need to look so smug about it!

“I text a lot of people!” He replied, tucking his arms to his chest petulantly, “and you were busy,” he added before he could think better of it.

Kuroo immediately deflated at the reminder of his work. The glimmer of his usual playful self vanishing as he looked back over at his collection of practice booklets and papers and whatever else was strewn across his desk. Then he bit his cheek, and Bokuto knew he was going to argue before he even forced it out.

“Bo, I should probably keep going,” Kuroo frowned, his words almost pained, as if just the idea of going back to studying hurt him. That was what really solidified everything in Bokuto’s mind, “Maybe we can-“

“Nope,” Bokuto said succinctly before launching his attack with the overwhelming energy of a hyperactive athlete who’d just sat in one place for way too long. Kuroo squirmed in place as the spiker snuck a hand up his side. He was unable to stop from giggling already, too caught off guard by the suddenness.

“W-Whahahat the fuhuhuck, Bokuto?”

Bokuto shrugged and used his other hand to scribble at his neck. He made no effort to hide his shit eating grin when his friend squeaked in response, attempting to lean away in the chair, “You’ve been doing this for wayyyy to long,” he chuckled, grin only widening when the best defense Kuroo could muster was to slap at his wrists. Weak at best, but compared to his usual struggle, it was even more lackluster for the self proclaimed provocation master, “You can barely even fight back!”

“Shuhut uhuhup- Bohoho!” Kuroo’s volume went up in slight alarm. Bokuto grabbed onto his arm, using it to pull him out of his chair while simultaneously continuing his attack on his waist. Then he sent him falling back into his bed with a gentle shove, easily maneuvering him into a semi-pinned position with a practiced grace. Now with one of his arms held firmly away from his side, Tetsuro was feeling a lot more vulnerable. The shift was evidenced in the more frantic giggling as he tried to muster enough energy to pull away from Bokuto’s playful torment.

“Don’t worry, we can get you some barbecue! It’ll fix you right up!” Bokuto exclaimed, as if he wasn’t currently digging his wriggling fingers into Kuroo’s stomach to make him shriek louder. Still, he shook his head wildly.

“Ngh- ahahah ihihi- ihihihi neheheed to stuhuDy!” He tried, his voice shooting up an octave when Bokuto decided that the dips in his hip bones were a suitable place to grab and squeeze. Damn Bokuto and his stupidly extensive knowledge of this particular weakness.

“Mmm no,” Bokuto responded, slowing his fingers to fluttery circle to let the other captain breathe, “From what I hear you’ve already done way too much of that! It’s break time!” Kuroo took in the extra air greedily. As he did, he leveled his friend with an incredulous stare.

“How did you even-?” Kuroo started before his expression dropped and his eyes darkened in realization. His gaze went back up to Bokuto’s face where he was leaning over him curiously, “Kenma,”

“Yup,” Kotarou laughed boisterously and nodded his confirmation, “This is an intervention man,” The blocker scowled and started to say something that sounded like the word “traitor” but he was quickly cut off by his own hysterical giggling. The break was over, and Bokuto had decidedly shoved his hands higher to scratch at his friend’s ribs at the sign of continued resistance.

“He- aHA shihit! Hehehe’s lying!” Kuroo yelled through his laughter, desperately trying to catch Bokuto’s wrists as his hands seemed to continue crawling their way up his torso, “Lehehehet mehe uhuhup!”

Bokuto scoffed and smirked at his panicked movements, “Not a chance,” His hands didn’t pause for a second as they avoided Kuroo’s grasp. When they honed in on the space between his top two ribs he threw his head back with a helpless cackle. Bokuto had to bite down on a fond smile at the sound, “Now come on! Just say you’re gonna stop overworking yourself and come get food with your best friend!”

“KehenmahaAh’s my behest friehehend!” Kuroo jeered defiantly, apparently still sassy despite everything. Bokuto narrowed his eyes and dug into his ribs harder, making him throw his head back with the force of his laughter.

“Rude,” If Kuroo wasn’t so busy dying, he would’ve teased Kotarou for the childish pout on his face, “but fine, your second best friend,” he corrected laboriously, as if the Nekoma student was in any place to properly respond to him.

“Gahahahah yohou’re ridihiculous!”

“Blah blah blah, let’s go get food Kurooooo!”

“I hahave to- wahahait! No no no Bo DoHON’T!” The resounding screech that Kuroo let out when Bokuto’s fingers finally made contact with the soft skin of his underarms was priceless. He fell into a fit of insane laughter as the other captain watched proudly. His hyena laugh even made an appearance, sending Bokuto himself into manic giggling as he set about driving his friend crazy. “BWAHAHAHA NOHOHO NAHA BOHOHO!”

“What was that?” He teased watching as any final hope of escape fell away, leaving Kuroo a laughing mess. His hair was skewed all of the place along with his clothes that had ridden up in his struggles. His face was bright red, from embarrassment, laughter, or both Bokuto didn’t know, but it was entertaining any way. It was also comforting to see that even in his almost catatonic pre exam state, his friend was still capable of loosing himself in something as simple as tickling.

“FIHIHINE! FINE FINE FIHIHINE!” Kuroo screamed, giving up his pride at last. Anything was worth it at this point just to stop the sensations taking over his brain. All he could think of was the way Bokuto’s deft fingers were scribbling over his underarms and how no matter how he jerked or squirmed or squeezed his arms to his sides it just wouldn’t stop. He could never handle being tickled there long and Bokuto was taking full advantage of that information, “AHAH YOHOHOU- GahHAH YOU WIHIHIN DAMNIT JUHUHUST STAHAHAP!”

Bokuto shot up from the bed, stopping to throw his arms up in a cheer. His loud shout of “HEY HEY HEY!” in victory was lost on Kuroo though. He was too busy trying to catch his breath where he laid K.O.ed on his bed. Still, when Bokuto finished celebrating and turned back to him he looked better. Still tired, but significantly less stressed out of his mind.

Even as he punched him in the shoulder in revenge, his posture had relaxed and there was a wide grin left on his face. And as the last of his giggles faded away, Bokuto was inclined to believe that it was genuine.

“Come on bro, I wanna go check out the new Rec center by the park!” Bokuto yelled, earning a raised eyebrow from Kuroo as he moved around his room, picking out new clothes for their outing. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into his laundry basket before turning to face him.

“I thought you said we were getting barbecue?” He asked, amusement coloring his tone as he picked up a new shirt. Bokuto smirked.

“Both,” he replied, squeezing Kuroo’s sides as he lifted his arms to put it on. He laughed loudly, batting his hands away and shaking his head.

“Ahaha enouhough!” He giggled, taking a few shaky breaths. Then his taunting tone returned at last, “As long as you’re paying man,” His usual smirk was now secured back in its place, for better or for worse.

Then he ducked into the bathroom just in time to avoid Bokuto’s distressed groan. Rest In Peace his wallet.

Still though, he was admittedly happy that Kuroo was back to normal, even if that meant that he was back to being a stingy jerk.

#Bokuto Koutaro #Kuroo Tetsuro #ticklish!Kuroo #haikyuu! tickle fic #tickle fic #tickle #tickling #tickles #fanfic #thanks for reading

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alovesongshewrote · 3 years

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Almost A Thousand Years - Wizard Underground | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 7,579

Warnings: Canonical Character Death!! (and torture)

A/N: buckle up kiddos, it’s about to get angsty. the gif does not match the energy at all, but it’s from the episode so, yeeeeet

Taglist: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip @dolphincommander @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05 @justarandomhoman @tales-of-hisirdoux @blixeon @yagirlcheesely

When the green cleared, the sky looked more or less the same. Dark, stars, clouds. It was clear you were home though, both from Douxie saying so and the immediate urge you had to murder him. Well, you couldn’t say you weren’t expecting it, but it still sucked. The drive to end Douxie’s life was always a real mood killer whether or not you were expecting it.

“Welcome back to the twenty-first century!”

“Ah! Sweet pollution! How I missed you!” Steve choked as he inhaled a lungful of said filthy air. Normally, that wouldn’t be a great thing, but you were sort of thankful for it this time. It distracted Douxie from the whimper that left your lips, from the way you sank to the ground, clinging to the railings, struggling against yourself. This was Not Fun.

Steve, however, was still having a wonderful time, “Heh! And reception!! Hot dang! So many messages.”

From the high-pitched chimes that rang out through the air, you could only guess that Steve was looking at his phone. You couldn’t really see at the moment due to the sudden and blinding pain in your stomach. That was new! You weren’t really sure why that was happening, or how Douxie didn’t feel it, but it probably had to do with the Arcane Order and your lack of homicide!

Across the ship, Jim let out a scream, the shard in his chest glowing red and sinking deeper. Fucking lovely. That was two of you in shard related pain. What was next, you losing control and killing not only Douxie but everyone on this damn ship? Another wave of pain rolled through you, which brought an end to your sarcastic thinking. At this rate, that outcome looked less and less insane by the minute. You bit your lip in a silent prayer that nothing else would go wrong. Then Camelot fell out of the sky.

“Oh, shit.”

Douxie’s words shocked you enough for you to open your eyes and look at him.

“D-Douxie, you-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m sorry, hang on tight, love!”

You did as instructed as your wizard flew the ship towards the falling castle, pulling up right beside it at what appeared to be the perfect time.

“Need a lift?”

“Douxie!” you could hear Toby’s voice, but you couldn’t see him. The momentary release granted to you by shock had worn off, and now all you had left was the pain. You shut your eyes and kept them closed, focusing on not passing out, or committing murder, or passing away. Actually, that last one might not have been so bad. At least it would end your suffering and the threat you were to others. That wasn’t going to happen though.

You could hear Archie now, the familiar’s voice was… well, familiar, and it was comforting to you, in an odd way, “But you’re trapped in the past!”

“Not anymore!”

“Took you long enough. We have much to talk about. Like- them?” you didn’t have to see Merlin to know he was talking about you, and in your current state, you were indeed worthy of conversation. You were curled into a ball, shoved against the rails of the ship and trying your damnedest not to cry. You felt like shit, you probably looked like shit, and Merlin didn't even like you in the first place, so yeah, you were something worth mentioning.

“D-don’t worry,” you choked out, “I’m fine. Focus- on Jim.”

Douxie did not want to focus on Jim. He didn’t want to focus on anything except for you at that exact moment. What was happening to you? Why was the love of his life doubled over and in obvious pain when he barely felt a thing? More than anything Douxie wanted to help you. He wanted to make the pain stop, and he wanted to hold you close and make sure you were okay, but Jim, unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the pov, had perfect dramatic timing.

The poor boy let out a groan, the shard glowing red once again, and causing everyone more concern. You knew there was no way in hell he could have heard what you said, and the groan was probably because Aarrrgh, Toby and Blinky had all boarded the ship which made it move a bit, but you liked to think he was on your side.

You could hear Toby scream something that sounded like a question, and you knew that Merlin replied, but there was only one voice that mattered to you. He said your name, sounding scared and anxious. It broke your heart, but you said nothing. You didn’t want him to notice you any more than he already had, because if he did, he would try to help, and that meant getting close to you, and if he did that he’d probably receive a broken neck for his troubles. Nobody wanted that. Least of all you.

“I-I’m getting everyone home safe, as promised.”

Merlin said something else, and you felt another shift as something, or rather, someone, landed on the ship. A small squeak left you, you couldn’t help it. Everything just hurt so bad, and you honestly didn’t know how Douxie wasn’t feeling it. You were thankful for that, of course, you’d never wish for him to be in pain, ever, but this was just so intense! You could barely function, you just had to keep breathing, hoping that the next inhale would somehow end the pain.

Another series of squeaks and gasps escaped you as Douxie maneuvered the ship through a field of castle-shaped debris. In any other situation, you’d have complimented him, but at that moment, you were trying to avoid causing anyone any bodily harm. It was difficult while you were flying, but as soon as you landed, things got wayyyy harder.

Douxie approached you cautiously, not wanting to hurt you and not wanting to trigger anything that might make you hurt him. The rest of the squad had jumped off the ship, so for it was just you and your wizard. For all intents and purposes, you were alone with the person you’d been sent to kill. There was nothing stopping you. His hands were raised in surrender for god’s sake. Why was he making this so difficult?

“Douxie, you need to go.”

“I- no, I’m not leaving you, we have to go, we have to get somewhere safe-”

“No, you need to- just get off the ship, I’ll join you in a second.”

That was a total lie, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t seem to register it, either. He just looked at you sadly before taking a step back.

“We’ll fix this. I promise you, we’ll fix this. I’m not going to let anything else hurt you.”

You tried to laugh, but the attempt was pathetic, “I know.”

And then he was gone. You could hear Jim screaming somewhere in the night. The sound drowned everything out, submerging you in a sea of guilt. That kid had suffered through so much, and now this. You knew his pain. He didn’t deserve this, and there was nothing you could do to save him.

Douxie was going through the same motions. You were in pain, you didn’t deserve it, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Not yet, anyway. He was bound and determined to help you, to end the nightmare you were living in. And it was indeed, your nightmare. He couldn’t feel a thing, even after centuries of sharing your pain. Even now, he could still feel the ache of your cracked ribs, but there was nothing beyond that. He didn’t know what was happening to you, or why, but he knew it terrified him. If this, whatever it was, took you from him, he didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t stand to lose you. Not after all of this. Even as he spoke with Merlin, his thoughts never left you. The image of you curled around yourself, face contorted with pain, lips bleeding as you bit them to stay silent, would haunt him for the rest of his days.

You, however, were haunted by something else.

“Nari, come back to us and finish the work you have begun!”

“You misunderstand our grand vision.”

Oh, fuck.

You pulled yourself up, desperately clinging to the rail, pausing every time your vision went white. You weren’t sure yet whether you were going to run away or fight, but the first thing you needed to do was hide. If you chose to run, they couldn’t see you. If they did, they would chase you, capture you, and torture you again. If you chose to fight, you wanted the element of surprise. So, yeah. Hiding was a good plan.

You threw yourself over the edge of the ship. It was not graceful in the slightest, but no one saw, so it worked out well enough. Your plan was going according to plan, even if everything hurt and you longed for the sweet release of death. You let yourself lean on the ship for a second, closing your eyes against the pain. The cold metal stung where it met your skin. It sucked. Everything sucked. This whole Order ordeal sucked. You wanted to go home. But where even was home? Right, it was the black-haired wizard boy with the shitty dye job who you’d loved for years.

A green light flashed on the other side of the ship, and you knew you had to make a choice. Either run, and keep running, the same thing you’d been doing since you escaped your life as a spy, or stay and fight. Run or go back to the start of your story and change the meaning. To fight, not for Gunmar and an eternal night, but to protect the people you loved, the town you lived in, and the punk wizard who owned your heart. Yeah, no. That choice was already made for you. It had been for almost a thousand years.

Without a sound, you dragged yourself around the ship and waited for the right moment. It came faster than you’d expected, but that wasn’t a huge deal. You snuck behind the green Knight, and when he demanded surrender, you struck him with your sword. He stumbled forward for a second, and that was it. The only solid hit you made in that fight. Ah, the element of surprise, everyone’s favourite element.

You ducked as the Knight's sword sliced at your throat. Your movements were delayed by a few seconds, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. You just had to keep going.

Your sword clashed with his, once, twice, a third time, and on that third, you were sent flying back. You scrambled to your feet just in time for another attack, this one accompanied by words. Whether it was a monologue or a taunt you couldn’t tell. Your brain was focused on not dying. You heard him call you a traitor, and a servant before he declared that your soul was his. You didn’t have a smart response for that, so you just kept fighting.

Up, down, side, dodge, sweep the leg, parry, twist left, over and over again. You were almost on autopilot, one hand still clutching your busted ribs, the other doing its best to keep you alive. There was no coherent thought, just adrenaline and movement. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, select start. Jeep, dodge, ram him with your face, or whatever the hell else kept you alive. There was nothing left but basic instinct and training that you’d never forgotten. This was your fight. And you weren’t actually that bad for someone who was half-dead. At least, you weren’t until the Green Knight knocked the sword from your hand and grabbed you by the throat.

Everything went numb. Your vision was lighter as if a filter covered the world making everything bright and hard to look at. You heard everything and nothing at the same time. It was all… dull. Like you were hearing the battle from somewhere far away. Douxie screamed something that you couldn’t make out, there was a muffled guitar riff, another scream, someone calling you a traitor, and- wait. What in the fresh hell was that? Did someone just fucking roar?

You were dropped, and you rolled out of the way just in time to see a troll you’d never met charge at the Knight. You sat still for a minute, struck dumb by this turn of events. Then you felt yourself freeze, ice creeping into your veins as you realized what was going on. You couldn’t hear Jim screaming anymore. You looked back to the ship. He wasn’t there. That left one, probably unreasonable explanation. The new troll was Jim. Fuck.

Pulling yourself to your knees, you took another look at your friends, gathered by the ship. It looked, for a moment, like Douxie or Claire would run into the fight. You couldn’t let that happen. So, you did the one thing you could think of, the one thing that would keep them out of this. You stabbed yourself in the leg. It wasn’t a big stab, just a little one. Just enough to convince Douxie that you’d lost control and were now out for his blood. It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped. You could see your wizard fall to one knee. His eyes met yours, and for one second, everything was still. He was there, and you were here, and you were both alive, but on opposite sides of this battle. That’s how it had always been. Maybe that’s how it was always supposed to be. You were back at the start again. A scared kid on the wrong side, clinging to what little light you had left. There were tears in your eyes. You don’t know how they got there. Maybe it was the stab wound, but you didn’t really believe that. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. He saw you. He stood. And then they were gone.

You smiled, for a second, despite the tears streaming down your face. They were safe, for now. They had a chance. Your momentary peace didn’t last long. Holding his sword above him, the Knight took control of Jim, the red light that ran through his veins turned green, leaving the troll on his hands and knees. At the same time, the pain in your stomach subsided, allowing you to stand, finally. You readied your own blade, but before anything could be accomplished, the Knight turned to you. For once, you could hear what he was saying.

“Attack and the beast dies.”

There was no other choice. You couldn’t let anything bad happen to Jim. You lowered your weapon just as Bellroc jumped from the castle and landed in front of you.

“Take them with us,” you flinched back at their voice. That sound only brought back memories that you would rather forget. Fear took you, and you allowed the Green Knight to grab your shoulder and guide you back to the castle. This was not going to be fun.

Speaking of things that weren’t fun, Douxie was having the worst possible time right now. After hiding in an alley, making his way to Hex Tech, and dealing with a less than pleased Zoe (which involved explaining that he had found you, found out exactly why you left, and lost you again,) he was more than a little bit tired, which was fair. To make matters worse, his leg stopped hurting somewhere between the field and the alleyway. You were on the Order’s ship. They had you, and god knows what they could do to you without him knowing. Quite honestly, Douxie was beyond terrified at this point. He wasn’t really sure what he was. In any other circumstance, he may have been paralyzed by pure fear and anxiety, but someone had to keep Claire from murdering Merlin, so paralysis was a no go. He was sure he’d have time for a nice mental breakdown later, after you were safe. For now, he would focus on keeping the peace, making sure nothing got broken, and forming a plan to get you and Jim home.

You were playing the same game with a different set of pieces. You stayed silent and obedient, making yourself as small as possible to avoid taking up space and pissing off your captors. No matter how panicked you were, you maintained an aura of calm for both your sake and Jim’s. You couldn’t let your emotions slip. Not here, not now. Not that any of your efforts were doing much good. You still flinched with every quick movement, bit your lip whenever someone got too loud. This was not a good situation, and you were straight-up not having a good time. It only got worse with the resurrection of Morgana. It was all too loud, too bright, too- too familiar. This was too close to what happened the last time you were here, and you were terrified.

Your hands were cold. You tried to focus on that, but for the life of you, you couldn't stop thinking about every bad thing that happened to you within these walls. Someone was yelling, someone else screaming, and you couldn’t tell whether it was real, or if it was a memory. You didn’t even care that the Green Knight was the old king. You just wanted to leave, but for now, against all odds, you had to stay calm. It was not working. At all. Especially when the room turned on you.

“And as for you, treasonous witch,” y’know, that wasn’t a very original take coming from a primordial ice god. You were honestly a little disappointed. In terms of torture, Skrael had always been a bit more creative. Perhaps, subconsciously, you’d expected that to carry over. It didn’t. In any other situation, you would’ve told him to get some new material, but Bellroc swiftly prevented that by throwing you into the center of the room. You hit the ground hard. Hard enough to blur your vision and clear your mind, but there was no time to process the pain.

“You have failed us,” the flaming demigod’s voice darted from high tones to low ones, sending a chill down your spine. If Bellroc was angry enough to lose control of their voice, you were beyond screwed.

Both demigods drew nearer to you, looming over your damaged figure, “You will pay for this.”

You winced, preparing for the burn of ice or fire on your skin, but no impact came. Instead, you felt a harsh tug on your hair as Bellroc forced you to face them. Both demigods looked way too calm, though you could feel their anger, a flaming riot beneath their skin despite their icy exteriors. Their rage alone was almost enough to hurt, but what came next was worse.

“You are much too fond of that wizard apprentice… we will make sure he suffers for all of your mistakes.”

You felt yourself shaking as Skrael rasped out the threat, but you didn’t have much more time to react before you were thrown into a wall. That was where their fun began.

Douxie was having a significantly better time than you, but that didn’t mean he was enjoying himself. Over the sounds of Blinky cursing autocorrect, Merlin and Claire were having a battle of ideologies right in front of my metaphorical salad. The audacity. This, of course, was not easy on your wizard. His friend wanted to find a way to save her boyfriend. His mentor wanted to move forward and run away. Douxie also wanted to save Jim and you, but Merlin made a good argument about the fate of the universe and how if they didn’t leave now everyone would die. That argument, however, was not enough to erase the memory of your face from his mind. He still saw that image, you, distorted with pain and struggle every time he closed his eyes. The fighting only made things worse; especially when Merlin decided to put that face on screens around the room, side by side with Jim’s new troll form. I don’t know why he thought that was a good idea, but it was Not helping Douxie.

“James Lake and (Y/N) (L/N) are corrupted, gone! They cannot be brought back!”

“Or you’re just too stubborn to try!”

“Please, you both have solid points!” he could hear the stress and fear in his own voice. Good. Maybe it would make the universe feel bad for him and it would just… throw you through a window at him or something. He didn’t know or care at that point. He was too tired for this and too awake for it at the same time. His eyes hurt. His jaw hurt. Everything hurt except his leg which was just another reminder of how much he missed you. God, he was having an awful day, and it was going to get worse.

“I will not jeopardize the mortal plane for one troll and one wayward witch!”

“It’s what they’d do for us!”

“And look where that got them!” This outburst from his former Master frustrated Douxie enough to make him slam his head into the nearest flat surface and keep it there.

“What!?” Claire exclaimed, the screens around the room went black, your face and Jim’s hidden from view. It would’ve been a relief if Douxie had looked up to see it. “Come on, back me up here. Anybody? Archie? Douxie?”

He heard the question in her voice. Will you stand up for your significant other, Casperan? Or will you fail them again? He let out a strangled groan to answer the question.

Archie’s answer was more dignified, “Don’t look at me, cats don’t have the right to vote. Neither do dragons. Yet.”

The familiar’s body glowed gold for a minute as he changed forms. It was only a second of shining light, but it was enough to give Douxie an idea.

“Wait a tick. I know a way we can rescue Jim and (Y/N) without risking the world!”

“Is that so?”

“How?”

“If it works, it will be quite the little magic trick.”

And it would indeed be quite the little magic trick. Risking life and limb to save you and Jim would be one hell of a feat, but if there was anyone who could pull it off, it was this specific team. At least, that’s what Douxie told himself. He had to. He had to pretend there was hope and focus on the plan. If he didn’t, his thoughts drifted to you, to what the Order could be doing to you, and that persistent question in his mind, the one that asked if you were alive at all. You had to be. You had to. There wasn’t another option, though Douxie found, as he boarded the small ship, that fear was building in his chest. A sense of dread surrounding what exactly they would find, lying still on the floor of the Order’s base.

Douxie was shaken from the hell in his head when Merlin spoke, something about being concerned with the plan and heading into a lion’s den. Your wizard was growing tired of this.

“You gave me a staff because you trusted me, right? So, trust me.”

“Very well. I stand by your decision… wizard.”

The comment was shrugged off by its intended audience, “Everyone knows what they need to do. If we pull this off, we’ll get our friends back.”

In his head, Douxie begged whatever godly forces were out there (that were Not Arcane Order aligned) that they would get their friends back in once piece, safe and sound; though as the lights of the Order’s ship shone in his face, blinding him, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. Oh well.

“Arcane Order!” the ship shifted to face him, a sign that someone was listening, “We’re here to barter!”

The skull moved down through the air, clicking and groaning as it’s jaw dropped to form an entrance, or at least something close to one. Douxie cast a glance back to his comrades, “And that means, ‘Come in.’”

“Wait, we’re flying into the bitey devil castle?” Steve asked incredulously, pointing at said bitey devil castle. Douxie nodded and flew them into the bitey devil castle. Bitey devil castle. I want one.

Steve, however, would not agree with that sentiment. Fear crossed over the teen’s face as their ship drew nearer to the larger craft. He shook so much while exiting the boat that he just fell over. Douxie, Merlin and Not-Nari failed to notice or maybe failed to care. Either way, Steve had an opinion on all of this. He did not like it, “Uh, this is supes dumb. Like, even I know it’s dumb and we’re still gonna go inside?”

If you had been in your right mind and entering the skull with them, you would have agreed, 100%. Unfortunately, you were not that. Instead, you were deeper inside the horror-show palace, writhing with pain and unable to think clearly. That sucked for you, but honestly, you were starting to get used to it.

Douxie, however, was not used to nor prepared for the sudden pain that hit him like a wall of bricks as soon as he entered the Order’s den. It started off intense, matching the pain you felt exactly, but it faded fast until it was a dull throb in the back of his mind. They’d hurt you. They’d hurt and maybe killed you because you didn’t kill him fast enough. That thought, that fact was going to haunt him for the rest of his days. He could already feel his breath coming faster, his chest rising and falling rapidly and leading him to disaster if he didn’t control it. To avoid having a panic attack, your wizard took in his surroundings.

The lair was, as many good evil lairs are, made of stone and lit light blue with moonlight. It was quiet, empty, so much so that Douxie had to mention the overwhelming silence just to hear something. Merlin did not respond. At least, not to him.

“Good evening, Skrael.”

The ice demigod appeared in a twister of ice and sleet. If he was anything other than an ice demigod, it would have been very uncomfortable, but alas, Skrael’s gotta Skrael, and that included monologuing in his chilling and creepy voice, “Surrendering already? I was hoping for a little more cat and mouse.”

Douxie was suddenly very uncomfortable knowing that this was the company you were trapped with during your ten-year absence. That this was all you’d heard for a decade. Douxie wondered, for a moment, against his will, what exactly they’d said to you in the past ten years. What horrors had you heard?

The wondering only got worse when Bellroc decided to jump in with a threat of their own. It was a classic, “You will be rewarded with a quick and painful death,” but Bellroc’s intimidating and ever-changing voice added a new level to the threat, something that most other villains lack. The Green Knight didn’t even make a threat, he just growled like a basic bitch.

Merlin didn’t care though. Basic bitches or otherwise, he got straight to business, “A fight here will end poorly for all of us. We seek a truce,” the old wizard turned to his apprentice and nodded. It was time for someone who did care about basic bitches.

“Good evening, doers of evil and ancient terrors. We have a proposal: a trade. One of yours for one of ours,” Douxie moved forwards and back again, his lanky-ass limbs swishing through the air, trying to illustrate his point. It was super effective.

“Our missing third in exchange for your troll mongrel?”

“You would give up your only advantage? What does this gain you?” both Bellroc and Skrael sounded confused, the perfect conditions for a lengthy explanation that would hopefully buy Claire all the time she needed to get Jim and you out safely.

Douxie took a short breath, “Yes, well, an excellent question, one that requires a long, thoughtful, time-consuming answer. Come on, Claire.”

Somewhere above your friends, your pain began to subside. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for you to stand and make your way over to Jim. You knew that it wasn’t really your boy, and you knew that he wouldn’t respond, but you made an attempt to speak with him anyway. You owed him that much.

“Hey there, kid.”

He grunted and moved away from you, retreating into the darkness, “Woah, woah, woah, easy buddy, just- try and stay in one spot for me-” your voice caught in your throat as another wave of agony rolled through you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the face of your old friend almost looked concerned.

You brought yourself back up, and a little gasp escaped you as the pain subsided. You were okay for the moment, but you didn’t know how long that would last. It was time to talk as fast as you could.

“Jim, honey, I need you to listen to me. I know how hard this is. I know what it’s like, trust me. But we- we have to fight this. You have a life to live, kiddo. You need to get back to Claire, to Toby and the rest of them, and I-” you cut yourself off before you could say you needed to get home, to get to Douxie. As much as you loved Jim, he was under the Order’s control. They’d already threatened your wizard’s life, you didn’t need them knowing exactly how much he meant to you. However, magic be damned, you had to get through to the boy inside this monstrous shell, “I know it’s hard, Jim, but I’m fighting this with you. Neither of us are alone.”

He growled at you but didn’t respond outside of that. It was time to be persistent.

“I know. But I need you to come back. I need-” once again, you couldn’t say what you were thinking. You couldn’t tell him that you needed proof, something to believe in that could maybe restore the last of your faith. You needed to know that there was hope, that you could come back from this. Jim Lake was one of the bravest and strongest kids you knew. He’d been through so much, and in comparison to your age, he was just a baby. If anyone could fight this, it would be him, and if he couldn’t, you weren’t sure if you could. You drew a shaky breath before you continued, “I need you to come back, for Claire, Toby, your mom, for yourself. You deserve better than this.”

He growled again, burrowing deeper into his hiding place. You bit your lip, thinking of what to say next, but you were interrupted. Someone was coming. Now you needed to hide.

It wasn’t a member of the Order as you’d suspected. Instead, Claire portaled into the room. You had no idea how she got in here, but seeing her was better than seeing the alternative. You stayed hidden while she spoke to Jim, almost feeling like you were intruding. At least he actually talked to her. You watched, hidden in shadows while she tried to coax him into leaving with her. You stayed silent, which became a little more difficult when a sharp pain shot up your side. You bit your lip to avoid crying out, but nothing could prevent the gasp that escaped you when you realized exactly where that pain had come from. If it wasn’t yours, then that meant it was Douxie’s. Douxie was somewhere in the castle.

That thought drove a deep, unyielding fear straight into your heart. You had to get to him, to protect him from the Order, curses and shards be damned. You jumped from your hiding place, causing the briefest of distractions to Claire, Jim, and Morgana, who had joined the fray while you weren’t watching. You paid them no mind, though. Claire could portal out of here, Morgana could more than take care of herself, and Jim was Bellroc and Skrael’s new favourite weapon. They would be okay. But you? If the sudden sharp pain in your back meant anything, you had somewhere else to be.

The first thing you saw was Jim, clinging to the ceiling above your wizard, ready to pounce. You would have attacked him if your vision hadn’t gone green. At first, you thought it was Merlin, trying in vain to protect Douxie, but then you realized exactly what was happening to you. And that was much worse.

Here, in close quarters with both the Green Knight and Douxie, the drive to kill your love had increased exponentially. Your mind clouded with bloodlust, your hands seized your sword. Before your eyes, you saw vivid flashes of green and red. It didn’t take you long to realize that the red was his blood. Or, it was supposed to be. At any other time, these visions would have destroyed you, but at the moment they only added fuel to a raging fire; one that had gone out long ago but somehow burned anew in your chest. For a moment, there was nothing but hate and rage towards the person you loved the most in this world. For a moment, you feed yourself.

And it only got worse from there. You leapt clear across the room, grabbing Douxie and putting your blade to his throat. At the same time, Jim jumped down from the corner of the roof he’d been hiding in and collected Archie and Merlin, holding them at bay. Out of all the things you’d been through, you decided that this was probably the worst. You were so close, so close to killing him. To ending his life, wiping his existence from this earth. You could see the horror on Archie’s face, and on Merlin’s, for that matter. You couldn’t see Douxie, but you could feel what he felt. Betrayal, heartbreak, and fear. So much fear. He was afraid of you.

If you went through with this, no one would ever forgive you, and you couldn’t blame them, but their scorn would be nothing compared to what you’d do to yourself.

You were vaguely aware of your surroundings. Of Clarie and Steve getting themselves frozen, and of the ultimatum offered to Merlin.

“We propose new terms,” Bellroc said, their voice much calmer now that they were in control.

“Give us Nari, or he dies,” Skrael pointed towards you. You could hear Archie yowling, Merlin yelling something and Douxie apologizing. In any other situation, you would wonder what he was apologizing for. Was it for trusting you? For what, in his opinion, must've been failing his mentor and Master? You had so many questions, but the answers didn’t matter. You weren’t in any other situation. You were there, in the Order’s castle faced with an ultimatum of your own. Kill Douxie, the love of your life and the person you trusted more than anything, or fight to save him. The answer to that question was clear. You closed your eyes.

The visions didn’t stop. You tried to stop everything your body was doing, to drop your sword and free him, but you couldn’t seem to let go. You bit your lip, tearing your skin with the effort, tears already coming to your eyes.

That’s when it started to hurt.

Excruciating, agonizing white-hot pain spread across your body from deep inside your core. You’d been hurt before, hell, you’d been tortured not much earlier, but this was beyond anything you had ever suffered through. You dug your nails into Douxie’s shoulder, whimpering, slightly. Your hand was clenched around the hilt of your blade, knuckles white, hands shaking. It was all you could do to keep from screaming. Your entire body felt like it was burning and freezing all at once. The smell of blood and acid hung in the air. The taste of metal stung your mouth. Your muscles seized and relaxed in waves. Tears collected in the corners of your eyes as your poor body battled against itself. You strained against yourself, whispering apologies into the back of Douxie’s hoodie. Your words, however, twisted into a mixed groan and scream. Your mind went blank, and for a moment, you were nothing.

The world was a void. A painful, painful void. You couldn’t focus on anything. You ignored Merlin, his fight for Douxie’s life and his escape from Jim. You paid no mind to the blasts of green magic and Bellroc’s frustrated screaming. You couldn’t give any of it a second thought. Instead, you kept going, locked in a battle of your own. You had to keep breathing through the pain, to take back control. And Douxie noticed.

“(Y/N),” his voice was low, and maybe a little broken, “(Y/N), I know you’re in there. You don’t want to do this, you won’t- you can fight this. You have to fight this. Please, come back to me.”

A gasp escaped you as the pain heightened, reaching a brand new peak. You were 90% sure you were about to die. You dropped your sword, and stumbled back, falling away from your wizard.

For a second, there was nothing. Then you opened your eyes.

And you felt everything.

For that second, for that one moment, you felt the world sink into place. The pain was gone, and you didn’t want to kill any of your loved ones, and you were okay. All you saw were hazel eyes. It was all you needed to see.

But it was just a moment. It didn’t last. You felt a tug somewhere in you, within your magic, and you turned just in time to watch Merlin get stabbed.

You’d never been close to the old wizard. It was just how things turned out. You were a spy and traitor and he was, well, Merlin. There weren’t too many opportunities for bonding between you. But you had to admit to yourself, you did care for the old fool. He’d taken you on as an apprentice all those years ago, and even if you didn’t count it as a ‘real’ apprenticeship, it was. He taught you about a side of magic you’d never known before, and for that, you had to be thankful. And Douxie. Oh, god, Douxie. You knew how much the old wizard meant to him. Merlin was his teacher, his mentor, the man who’d saved his life all those years ago and, in a sense, saved yours. Almost a thousand years ago, Merlin had bonded you to that boy and given you the best thing in your life. The two of you had your differences, but you would be forever in his debt.

Which is why you screamed as the blade tore through him. You found yourself reaching out as he was thrown back to the earth, as if you could do anything to stop it. You felt yourself go numb. Douxie had a slightly more emotional reaction.

You braced yourself against a storm of blue magic, radiating from your wizard. You stood, still as stone, while Jim, the Order, the Knight and Morgana (who’d joined the party at the most dramatic time possible) were blown back. As soon as they were out of commission, you grabbed Archie, scooping the familiar into your arms. In any other situation, the cat would have been fine with this, but at that moment, he struggled. Archie frantically tried to escape your hold, motivated by an intense drive to get to Douxie’s side, to support him in whatever way he could. You felt the same way.

You took a step towards your wizard, but before you could get to him, he turned. His eyes were glowing. Blue. He yelled for you to run, to get away from there, but you were frozen in place by a force you couldn’t name. The difference in his magic, in his soul, could not go unnoticed. He was stronger, somehow, and it stopped you. The light behind his eyes sent a shock through your system. Douxie was never one to use offensive spells on you outside of a full-on fight, but he was out of time and out of options. He threw you and Archie towards the others, calling out another “Get out of here!” before breaking a window and flying out of it. You didn’t even have time to process that. You just did as you were told, jumping through a shadow portal without a second thought.

Earth was colder than you remembered it.

But then again, maybe that was just a side-effect of travelling by shadow portal.

The most likely option, though, was that it had something to do with the scene before you.

Merlin was on the ground. He looked smaller, weaker than you’d ever seen him before. That thought on its own was horrifying. Merlin was the definitive master wizard. He was the strongest of your kind, your leader, in a sense. He was everything a good wizard was supposed to be. And you could feel him dying.

You weren’t the only one.

“-Hold still. I can fix this, I-I-I can fix this-”

I can fix this.

You’d heard that one before.

You’d heard that one a lot, actually. If Douxie had a catchphrase outside of kid-friendly swears, it would probably be “I can fix this.”

He was always so determined to keep everyone safe and to prove himself. Every mess he found himself in, he’d insist that he could fix it. He could fix time. He could fix your broken heart. He could fix the world one day if he wanted to.

But you weren’t sure he could actually fix this.

You took a small step forward, releasing Archie from your hold. Douxie said nothing, at least not to you. He kept repeating those words, over and over again. You could hear him start to lose hope.

“Douxie-”

“(Y/N), help me, please. You have to help me save him- we can fix this. I can-”

“Stop, Hisirdoux,” Merlin’s voice brought your attention back to him, “No one can. Do not blame yourself.”

You took a few more steps forward before kneeling at Merlin’s other side. The part of you that was trained in medicine, a part of you that you were almost surprised to still possess after today, took in Merlin’s injuries. You hated to admit it, but he was right. There was no hope here. Dread settled in your stomach as you realized these wounds, and therefore this death, were, in some way, your fault.

“I’m sorry. I should have listened to-” you stole a quick glance at Douxie. He was doing as well as one might expect.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the old wizard winced and you put a hand on his shoulder, using what little power you had left to ease his pain. It would not save him, but it might make passing a little more peaceful. He nodded at you, the most approval you’d ever received from the old man, before he continued, “I spent a lifetime serving the wrong master, trying to save this world.”

“You can’t! You’re Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time!” Douxie collapsed onto Merlin, and you could tell from the small tremors that ran through him that he was crying. The old wizard put a hand on his back, trying to comfort him. You felt tears spring to your own eyes. You could feel his pain. You’d known it yourself, centuries ago. Merlin offered a hand to you. You took it.

“Merlin- master, I’m so sorry,” you were only whispering, but you know he heard. They both did.

“I saw a glimmer of greatness, of what you could become,” he moved his hand to Douxie’s face, “And the greatest thing I ever accomplished was saving you,” he brought the hand holding yours to hold Douxie’s. You felt your wizard take a shaky breath.

“I’ll try and make you proud.”

“You already have… son.”

And he was gone. Merlin was… gone.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until then.

“No, no, no, you can’t go!” you pulled back as your wizard cried out, your hands covering your mouth, catching your tears as he pulled his mentor closer to him. His voice lowered to a whisper, “No, please. I’m not ready.”

And then Merlin was ash, dust in the wind, a pattern dispersed.

“Douxie, I’m so sorry,” Claire said as she, Steve and Archie crossed the clearing you’d landed in. Claire went to Douxie’s side, Steve went to yours. It wasn’t much, but it was some comfort in this uncertain world.

“I-I can’t believe he’s gone,” Archie nudged a little closer to Douxie as he spoke.

And he was right. With a final gust of wind, Merlin left you, leaving behind a thick, leather-bound book. His grimoire. Your last hope.

“What is that?” Steve asked as Douxie picked up the book, clutching it to his chest.

“It’s all we have left to guide us,” he stood, “Other than that… we’re on our own.”

He was right. You were more alone than you realized. More than you had been for the last few hundred years.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #angst #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux

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tloujm · 3 years

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Part XV: How About Now?

Author’s Notes: Nothing to see here but Joel slowly breaking out his dad jeans and interacting with the fic’s newest character. I hope y’all enjoy this one. It’s a little bit longer than the last two and its a build up to some major fluffy plot development.

Genre: Fluff with a couple drops of angst

Summary: Joel tries to bond with the new girl. He convinces you to go camping with him. The two of you take the relationship to the next level.

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel’s boots crunched against the wet gravel as he found himself walking toward the daycare center. He knew that you’d be there. This week had been so busy for the two of you, that you’d barely gotten time to see each other. He acknowledged what the feeling was that pulled at his heart strings; he missed you.

With the intention of pulling you away from your duties, if only for a moment, Joel walked inside and glanced around the play room for you. His eyes fell on something familiar, but it was not you. It was his jacket that he recognized, still wrapped around the shoulders of the new little girl who arrived in Jackson not so long ago. It was as if she had never taken it off. Joel noticed that she was sitting by herself at a table. As he walked closer, he found that she was drawing. His heavy footsteps alerted her, causing her to drop the pencil in her hand and look up at him. With a low grunt, he crouched down until he was eye level with her.

She shrugged off the jacket and handed it to him. “No, you can keep it, kiddo. I have another.” He waved it away before she placed it on her lap like a blanket. “Let’s see what you’re drawing here. Oh, well now I believe this one is called a Velociraptor. Yep, I learned this from a little known movie that came out back in…’93 I wanna say. Some feisty creatures. They may have been small compared to the rest, but you wouldn’t wanna get on the wrong side of those fellas.” Joel said, filling up the air of the one sided conversation. “You ever seen a dinosaur in real life? S’pose you haven’t. That’s wayyyy before your time.” He attempted to make her laugh. “Technically, I’ve seen them, their bones at least. I used to go to science museums all the time before the outbreak. You’ve probably never been to one, have you?” He genuinely waited for an answer, to which she barely shook her head. “I know of one not too far from here. Maybe me and (Y/N) will take you one day if you’re up to it.” Joel got back up slowly and stretched his legs until his knees popped. He tipped his imaginary cowboy hat as a farewell and continued his search for you.

Joel eventually found you in the backyard taking down laundry from the line. “Hi, darlin’.”

You put the clip back on the line and threw yourself into his arms. “Hey! I missed you.” Hearing you say that melted his heart.

“Missed you too. You know, I was thinking we should go campin’.”

“That’s random.” You laughed off his suggestion.

“Why? I reckon we can go hiking, fish, cozy up next to a fire, lay under the stars.”

“I don’t even know how to fish.”

“I’ll teach you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I might be a bit rusty. I mean I haven’t gone fishing since I was a kid, but I’ll get back into the swing of things. But those other things, I know you like.”

“I mean I do, but we can do that here in Jackson.” You countered.

“Yeah, but it’ll be something different.”

“I don’t know, Joel. Ever since we settled here, we haven’t gone beyond the gates unless we had to.”

“C’mon now, don’t tell me you forgot about your birthday. The aquarium, remember?”

You glare at him knowingly. “How can I ever forget. But in my defense, I didn’t know we were going to leave the walls of Jackson. All you said was that it was a surprise and that was it. I just don’t want to run into any hunters or people from a hostile settlement.”

“I thought I was the worrisome one in this relationship.” Joel joked. “Listen, this ain’t our first rodeo. We’ve survived a lot out there and not for nothin’. People or clickers, we’re good at staying alive and even better at it when we’re together.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and rubbed them up and down your arms. “I promise we won’t go far. We’ll pick a patch of land along a recently cleared route. I trust you. You trust me?” You nodded. “Good! We’ll have fun! This is excitin’.”

“You know, I’ve never gone camping before.” You spoke up.

“Really? Not even an RV or cabin?”

You shook your head. “You know I love nature just as much as you, but I’m really just a city girl. I was used to seeing animals on tv or behind a barrier at the zoo. The wildest animal I’d ever seen before the outbreak was a raccoon. Maybe the occasional deer. The closest to hiking I ever did before was at a nature preserve park. It may all be outside, but damn, the actual woods are a whole other story.” He let out a light laugh. “Before the outbreak, I bought all my meat from the store and had a tendency to kill every plant I owned.”

“Well now look at ya, a natural country girl.”

You laughed. “I never chose this life. This life chose me.”

“It chose a lot of folks, but it suits you.”

“You don’t gotta butter me up anymore, I already agreed to go camping with you.” You said while giving him a sly smile.

“I mean it, it does.”

“Why do you wanna go camping anyway? I can see a hike for the afternoon, but everyday out there since the outbreak has felt like one big camping trip.”

“That wasn’t campin’. The difference is that campin’ is fun, you’ll see.” He tried to convince you.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” You said. He looked at you blankly. “Why though! We’ve been in Jackson for years now and you’ve never suggested it before.”

He shrugged. “Now just seems like a good time. Jackson’s in a good place. They won’t miss us for a day or two. Besides, we have some downtime coming up and I feel like I haven’t really gotten to spend time with you in awhile. I just want it to be you and me again for a minute.” He blushed at the last part.

You smiled at his defensive romantic side. “Kind of like a romantic weekend getaway?” You playfully wiggled your eyebrows.

He deepened the tone of his voice. “That’s exactly what it’s gonna be.”

“When should we go?”

“How’s the day after tomorrow sound?” He suggested.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied. The idea of camping was growing on you. The clothes line was now empty and the basket was full of folded linen. Joel followed you as you walked back inside to put them up.

“Now, onto other business.” He began.

You looked back in confusion. “What else is there?”

“I don’t know if you recall, but I remember a certain someone promising another certain someone that she’d move in with that…certain some...the original someone…wait um...” Joel began stammering over his thoughts. “It’s you. That certain someone was you who promised that if I made you breakfast in bed, you’d live with me again; no more of this back and forth. And if you recall again, I did in fact make you that breakfast.”

“Pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice? How could a girl forget? They were delicious by the way.”

“For bonus points, I do remember being right as well when I said there wasn’t gonna be any bloaters in that manor.” Joel added on. “So what do you say?” He asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

“Suppose you were right about that, so yeah sure.” You said.

He looked at you for a moment before looking down at his feet. “Don’t make it sound like you’re doing it because you lost a bet or somethin’. If you’re not ready, I have no intention of forcing you, but,” He lets out a sigh. “I guess I don’t understand why you wouldn't want to.”

“Joel, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I love you, you know that.”

“Sounds like a ‘but’ is coming on.”

“It’s just new to me is all. I know we’ve lived together once, but I’ve never had a serious relationship with anyone before you and I sure as hell never lived with a romantic partner before you. The outbreak happened right after I graduated college. I only ever lived with my parents and a couple of roommates. I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve never had my own place before where it was just me doing whatever I wanted, however I wanted, wherever I wanted. I love spending time with you, believe me I do, but there’s something about having your own space, you know. I hate the way in which I got here, me having my own place, but I’ve grown to like it. Does that make me selfish?” You genuinely asked.

He let out a deep sigh. “No, it doesn’t. But, you know It’d be your house too. It won’t be you moving into my house; it’d be you coming back to our house. If you’re comfortable here, I can move in with you or we can find a whole new house altogether.”

“I don’t know, Joel.” You replied.

“Just think about it alright, darlin?” He requested. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and paced the floor around the linen closet. The air fell silent, but he wasn’t done pleading his case. He just had to find the words. “You may account your life experiences, or lack thereof, to being young, but you probably never thought about the fact that I’ve never lived by myself before the outbreak either. I was a teen dad. I went from living with my dad and brother to living with my daughter and her mother. After she left us, it was just me and Sarah all the way up until that day. After me and Tommy fell out, I was on my own for the first time. I...uh...It wasn’t easy; none of it.” He shook his head before looking at you with tired, pleading eyes. “I’m tired of being alone, (Y/N).” He sniffled and then you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up. “I know I’m not much to look at in the morning, but I want nothing more than to wake up next to you everyday. That’s where I stand, (Y/N), but if that’s not where you are, that’s ok ‘cause you’re the only one I’d wait for. I just want you to want this too.”

“Joel, I never...I” You tried to begin. He was right, you never thought about the fact that he always had someone. When you first met him, you grew to know him as a withdrawn, independent man. “I want to wake up next to you too, but not just that. I want to spend the middle of my day and end of my day with you too in our house.” You stood on your tiptoes and rubbed the pad of your thumb against his wrinkles.

He closed his eyes at your touch. “I need you to mean that.”

“I do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too!” You smiled up at him.

“How much longer do you have here?” Joel inquired.

“I just have to finish folding the laundry.”

“Meet me at your place when you’re done. I’ll go and find some boxes.”

“Wait, what?”

“What better time than now? The rest of my day is clear and we still have a few more hours of daylight. What do you think, darlin’?” You playfully rolled your eyes at his eagerness, but seriously couldn’t think of a reason not to start today.

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arsonistslut · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9: Reminders of Tragedy

"Hey, Jane!"

"Hey, Ingrid! How is my favorite person in the world?"

Jane's girlfriend of a good 9 years now happily walked over and kissed her on the cheek, beaming as she always seemed to do whenever she looked at her lover.

"Amazing now that you're here. Hey, you wanna go to that party Randy's having at his house tomorrow?"

"He's having a party? I didn't figure him the partying type."

"Despite the whole business parents thing, he is a real party animal. Hey, you know what's weird about the party?"

"What is?"

"He invited that Jeff guy there..y'know, that creep with the Conduct Disorder?"

She gestured to the tall, dark clothed young adult that sat alone at a lunch table nearby, playing with a switchblade.

"Hey, I remember him being pretty nice.."

"Remember him? You two date at some point?"

"We did, actually, wayyyy back."

Jane smirked when she saw the look of surprise and pride on Ingrid's face when she realized she guessed right.

"What was he like?"

"He was a sweetheart. Cheesy, but a sweetheart. Hell, even cheesier than me."

"Jane, you've carved our names into multiple trees. There's no out-cheesing that."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how we met, either. My dad was out mowing the lawn, and he accidentally ran over a rock and it hit Jeff in the head."

"Oof, that sounds bad.."

"I visited him in the hospital with my parents one time, and I will never forget what he said to me as a pick-up line."

"What did he say?"

Jane cleared her throat, before trying her darndest to do an impression of a young Jeff.

"Did you come from heaven? Because you look like an angel!"

Ingrid couldn't help but let out a giggle as she quickly pulled Jane into her arms.

"Aww, that sounds so cute!"

"It was!"

Jeff himself was hearing this conversation from afar, the little tricks he played with his knife not an adequate distraction from the constant reminder of what could've been.

"I don't think he handled our breakup too well..nobody really wanted to treat him as anything other than a freak after his diagnosis went public. One time, I heard him ranting to his brother about how it was hypocritical of the school to do a health topic on depression when they wouldn't stop judging him for his CD."

"Sheesh, it sounds like he's been through a lot..poor kid could use a friend."

"It doesn't really look like he wants any. Liu isn't sitting with him..that's weird, Liu always sits with him."

"Prolly had an argument or something, you know siblings."

"Yeah.."

The day continued without incident, Jeffrey getting home at the same time as usual..yet his mind was not thinking about the party, or school, he was thinking about Jane and Ingrid. Why was Jane so special that she had everything she wanted in life and not him? What crime did he commit that landed him with absent parents, demonization from his peers, and a fucking smile cut into his face? That love, that relationship they had..Jeff came to the conclusion that it was something to be destroyed.

Liu, meanwhile, was..struggling with something. Something he never expected would be a problem in his life. Lately, he began having these thoughts..these violent, awful, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be begging to be spoken aloud, the actions they describe seeming to grow more and more appealing as time passed.

Kill Randy.

Maim Keith.

Skin Troy like the cattle he is.

Maybe if he gave the thoughts an identity, they'd be easier to handle, he thought as he thought of a name for these urges..one stood out from the others. Not at all goofy, but not as laughably edgy as the other options.

Chapter 10: Enter Sully

Liu ended up speaking to Sully for the entire night..and even into the morning. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he could already hear Liu downstairs talking with..someone.

"It's sad, really..so concerned about themselves..no time spared for you."

"I-I guess..but they've got more important things to worry about.."

"Child, they do not have a thought in them about you. They're all self centered egomaniacs that would rather get pushed around by a genetic failure of a human rather than do anything about their situation!"

"That's not true, Sully! You're lying!"

A horrible growl soon came from the room.

"We are friends, child! Friends do not lie to each other, do they?"

"I..I guess not..goodbye for now, Sully."

"Where are you going?"

"I..I need some time to think."

Liu got back up, jumping from fear when he saw his brother staring at him.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You scared me!"

"I bet."

Awkward silence soon filled the dining room where they stood.

"Hey, Jeff...?"

"What?"

"I'm..sorry about punching you, and saying all that shit about you. I shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The elder brother turned around and began walking back up to his room, but not before his brother called out to him.

"Hey..is there any way I could make things up between us?"

"You could make things up by not betraying my trust again. You're all I've got, Liu..don't pull a Jane and fuck it up for me."

Liu always did question that grudge Jeff held for his ex, after all, he chatted with her in the past, and it always seemed like she genuinely enjoyed what her and Jeff had, and she always felt bad for leaving him like that. Hell, it sounded like it was as painful for her to leave him as it was for him to find out that his girlfriend left him. He was tempted to point that out, but he feared ruining things with his brother again.

"Alright.."

Chapter 11: A Hell of A Party

When Jane and Ingrid rounded the corner home, they found..a disturbing sight. A dead raccoon laying in the middle of the street, it's guts ripped out of it's body and thrown aside, Jeff gleefully pawing through the freshly murdered animal, childishly gawking and giggling over the corpse.

"Hey, Jeffrey! What happened here, what the fuck did you do?!"

Ingrid cried out to the blood-soaked kid, who looked up at her, confusion riddling his bloodied face.

"I killed a raccoon. It's not like anyone's gonna miss it."

"Why, you little-"

Ingrid slapped Jeffrey right across the face, knocking him to the ground as Jane held her girlfriend back and tried to keep the situation from escalating any further.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"You killed a helpless animal, you freak!!"

"I oughta kill you next, you piece of-"

Woods choked on his own spittle as he made his threat, never having been particularly..elegant with his words.

"Oh, really?! I'll kick your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"I swear to God, I'll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!!"

When Jeff reached for his switchblade, Jane panicked and grabbed her lover's hand, running off with her as Woods continued to scream at them.

"Your last words better be some Mark Twain shit, because it's going on your tombstone!! You hear me?!"

That experience was all on Jane's mind as she watched Jeff steadily get more and more wasted by the bonfire outside as time went on, at least, what glimpses she could catch of him when she wasn't busy dancing with the other students. Randy was also outside, reluctantly playing Truth Or Dare with the others as well as his increasingly hot and bothered enemy.

"Ok, Jeff!"

"Whaddup, baby?~"

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, hit me with the worst ya got!"

"Slow dance with Randy."

"What the-no! I'm straight as a arrow, dude!"

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet~"

"Jeff, never say that again."

"C'mooooon, do the dare, ya pussy~ I don't bite!~"

Woods took his time getting up, but still had enough cognitive function to put on Grover Washington Jr's "Just The Two Of Us", to try and improve the mood, but Randy still wasn't having any of it. In a last ditch effort to try and seduce Randy, Jeffrey just..up and took his shirt off. That'll get things going, right? No, it didn't. Despite some swooning from some of his classmates, Randy himself didn't want any part of this. He was a few drinks deep as well, so in a drunken haze, he grabbed one of the bottles of booze they had, took a running start, and smashed it right over Jeff's head. The problem with that is that they were only a couple feet away from a bonfire, so when Jeff stumbled backward, he fell right into it, the alcohol on his exposed flesh quickly igniting. He quickly burst into flames, screaming and running off as the fire quickly seared his body, every remaining nerve ending he had that wasn't burnt away shocking his body with waves of pain. He could feel his scalp burning up once his hair was scorched away, finally finding solace in a nearby puddle that put out the flames. Jeff could see his life flashing before his eyes..his family, his brother..that was all he could see. As Randy and the other students' screams of horror faded away, Woods silently cursed himself for not doing anything more with his life..a single bloody tear rolled down his face as he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time.

Chapter 12: The End Of The Beginning

Suddenly..he was in some sort of void. The ground beneath him was black as pitch, and footsteps began to grow ever closer to him. When Jeff looked to see who was approaching, he found no earthly being waiting for his attention. When he laid his eyes on whatever approached, the previously totally dark void began to turn a sickly red. What stood before him was a monster unlike any other, an otherwordly monster many believed to be a mere tall tale.

HE COMES.

#creepypasta #jeffery woods #liu woods #sully #zalgo #tw violence #tw animal moidah #tw jeff fucking burns

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squirrelly831 · 4 years

Text

Kidnapped Her [Hakyeon and Hongbin]

This is a yandere au! A bit more on the darker side of things. It strays away from the idea of love and more to control and so I leave you with that as my warning. There’s violence and lots of it for some members. You’ve been warned.

I’m not playing… There’s violence. Not for the weak hearted or easily triggered by violence.

Enjoy~

P.S. I’m just posting reactions when I complete them. I realize waiting for me to finish an entire group reaction takes WAYYYY too long.

She didn’t know him, but he knew her. To her was a classmate. A drop dead gorgeous classmate, but just a classmate nonetheless. She knew his name, everyone did. He was a Prince Charming, super smart and had a voice that could soothe a baby to sleep if he had to. Girls gawked are him, but never approached him. Guys neared him to at least pretend they were good friends.

To him, she was an angel. Her beauty was unlike any other. He wasn’t in the same major as her, but he wanted at least one class with her. He craved her. He loved her. She was his even if she didn’t realize it, others would. Any man who approached her, would never make a second pass at her. They’d all know how much he treasured her.

And yet, much to his disappointment, she was one of the few who paid him no mind. Before, she would at least glance in his direction when she entered class, but now, she doesn’t even look up from her friend, Mary. Someone he saw as a nauseating threat. She stole away his angel’s attention from him and it infuriated him.

It’s not like she would deny he was handsome or smart, but she also didn’t care. She drew a boundary the moment she entered university, no boys and no dates. And after two years of her no boys and dates policy, she had done good. Her grades were the best, her social life was ever blooming, and she felt at peace. At least she was until her professor assigned a pair project and took the liberty to assign everyone a partner.

Mary was her saving grace from the others, but instead the two were pulled apart. Mary grouped with another girl while she was with him. She gathered her things, her mood evidently soured, and made her way to sit beside him.

“Hey, happy to work with you” he greeted. His voice was light and welcoming, but she remained silent. She gave him a nod before opening her notebook to prepare for the notes. He felt his anger flare inside. Was he still not good enough for her? Was there someone else who stole his attention? He glanced to her to see her pull out her phone and send a quick message. He then looked over to Mary who had pulled her phone out on cue and gave a sad look to her phone. She then turned and met her eyes. Mary blew her a kiss and held up two small heart fingers. An action that caused his angel to break into a smile and hold up a finger heart of her own which only angered him more.

As the lesson went on, he glared daggers at the back of Mary’s head. She-- That slut. She was the one who was stealing his angel from him. She had to go. As long as she was around, his angel would never look at him...

Hakyeon

Hakyeon knew he needed to act and fast. Kelsea was slipping from his grasp each day she ignored him. Each day she focused her attention on that bitch. He couldn’t even want that name to grace his thoughts. She had already stolen Kelsea’s attention and friendship, she wasn’t going to take his thoughts. To Hakyeon, Mary was a plague. A plague that could easily be eradicated if patient enough.

Kelsea’s pen stopped mid-tap as she looked from her paperwork, “What was that?” Her stray hair cascaded over her left eye as she looked up at Hakyeon.

Hakyeon’s charming smile appeared on his face, “I just think we could work on this project at my place or something. We want to get this done with quickly, right? We ca--”

“Or we can just meet at a library” she interjected as she capped her pen. She pulled back the stray hair as she watched their professor leave the room. She sucked in a breath as she stood, “I don’t see the point of going to one of our places, no offense. The library will have the research material we need to begin with then we would be working on our own individual sections.” Kelsea’s eyes found Mary as she hopped down the aisle. Mary stopped and looked back, she flashed Kelsea a wide mouth grin and Kelsea let out a breathy chuckle.

Hakyeon’s eyes closed and opened slowly as he glanced off his peripheral to Mary with disgust. His look didn’t go unnoticed as Kelsea saw the murderous look in his eyes.

She paused as Hakyeon turned back to her with a smile, “Fine. Let’s meet at the library at 6. That work for you?” He asked with a soft defeated sigh.

“Yea...” She replied cautiously, taking a step from him with her bag in hand. “I’ll meet you there...” She turned swiftly before she raced down the aisle towards Mary. Mary gave her a confused look as Kelsea grabbed her wrist and dragged her out the class.

Hakyeon waited for the door to shut as the last student left. He let out a growl as he threw his backpack from the desk.

When Kelsea came to, she found herself cuffed and gagged in what looked to be a basement. The cold concrete under her caused her to shiver as she tried to get a better view of her surroundings.She tried to recall what had happened before she blacked out, but was plagued with a migraine from hell. She pressed her back against the wall behind her as tinges ran their course through her hanging arms. Her fingers wiggled around to get the blood flow through her arms as her eyes sought for anything in the darkness.

There was a sound of a door opening, the screeching of the hinges as if it struggled to open. Light flooded the room and Kelsea winced at the sudden attack of light against her eyes. She squinted as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the intruding light when she noticed the silhouette before her made its move. “Who--” Her voice died in the throat as a memory surfaced. Her confusion cleared to a look of anger, “You’re Cha Hakyeon, right?”

A smile graced the figures lips as he neared her, “I’m glad you remember me. It only makes this easier.” He bent down before her, his eyes met hers at an equal level. His hand reached out and his knuckles caressed her cheek.

“Makes what easier...” She shook under the cool yet domineering air about him.

Hakyeon’s eyebrow rose as his cheshire smile grew, “You telling me you’re in love with me of course. I’ve waited for you to see me. To acknowledge me and not to continue this unbearable teasing you do with me.”

Kelsea jerked back hitting the back of her head against the fiberboard wall. A sting of pain pricked her as she stared at Hakyeon. Her words caught in her throat as she tried to formulate what to say next. The sound of her heart pounding against her chest echoed in the silent room. “I--” Her voice shook as she felt unable to look away from his alluring eyes. There was something in them, something dark that made her blood chill. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” She paused as she finally looked from him to the ground, “I don’t love you. I have a girlfriend and men--men don’t interest me.” She didn’t notice the darkness that consumed Hakyeon’s feature as she spoke. Suddenly, his hand wrapped itself in her wavy locks and pulled her head back hitting the wall once more. Kelsea let out a gasp as she winced at the pain, “I swear--” she whimpered. “If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone what happened today. Please just let me go.”

“Let you go?” He repeated with a growl. “You want me to let you go so you can whore yourself out to that slut?” He released her hair as he stood abruptly, but Kelsea’s relief was short lived as he grabbed a fold-able chair and threw it near her. She let out a scream as she tried to retreat into herself. The chair clattered to the floor hitting her thigh on the way down. Kelsea quivered as she looked up at Hakyeon who was glaring down at her. “Don’t worry, my love” his voice was cold, but definite. “I’ll clean you of that whore. I won’t let her taint you further. I’ll get rid of her.”

Hakyeon swiftly turned away and made his way out of the room. “Wait-- Hakyeon what are you going to do?” She asked in a panic. “What do you mean get rid of her?” He ignored her as she stood up and pulled at the cuffs. “Hakyeon, don’t hurt her! Please!” She screamed in desperation as the chains clanked against her. Her breath quickened as she sought for a way to get out of the cuffs. Her body stilled, her thrashing ceased and her tears spilled. ”Mary... Please, run” she pleaded to no one as she gave in to the weight of gravity.

Hongbin

After the professor dismissed the class, Nicole began packing away her things, “We can meet at the cafeteria at 7:30 tonight. I have work before then, so I can’t meet any earlier. I’m only meeting so we can talk about who will do what and set a schedule for the deadlines.” She zipped up her bag and took the moment to glance at Hongbin, “Any questions?”

Hongbin swallowed his annoyance as he flashed her a smile, “No, I’ll see you at the cafeteria.”

Nicole looked away from him and back to Mary who was waiting at the door. Her lips curved upward at her, “See you then.” She replied to him curtly. She swung her bag over her shoulder as she approached Mary. The two girls intertwined fingers before Nicole surprised her with a kiss.

Hongbin’s eye twitched as a new fire ignited in him. He leaned forward as he glared at Mary. She was stealing away his angel and pulling her closer to hell. His fingers spazzed as he pushed them down with his chin. Hongbin watched them leave with a clenched jaw. He’d let the devil take his angel--for now. He’ll get her back. He knows she was just testing his loyalties.

Nicole tried her best to fight off Hongbin’s grasp as he dragged her into his home. She shouldn’t have agreed to meet him in the cafeteria. Had she followed her gut feeling, maybe he wouldn’t have been able to drug her with the tea he insisted he’d buy her. Her pathetic screams echoed through the night, but none of the neighbor’s lights flicked on. The front door slammed shut as she was thrown to the ground.

Hongbin looked down at his arm where a long claw mark drew blood. His eyes darkened as he licked off the seeping blood, “You made me bleed” he stated in disbelief. “The nerve. After all I did for you.”

Nicole crawled away from him as a scoff left her lips, “Did for me? You fucking psycho-you kidnapped me!” She got to her feet and ran off down the hall.

“Fuck! Get back here, Nicole!”

She ignored him as she made a sharp turn into the kitchen. Nicole’s eyes raced around until she saw a knife. She grabbed it before she continued down the hall to find the back door. At the end of the hall was a door, a way out, she hoped.

“Don’t go in there, Nicole! I’m serious!” His eyes had all but widened in fear as a panicked cry escaped his mouth.

Nicole looked back to see him closing in on her, she swung open the door and entered a garage. Her eyes took in a view that she could never get out of her head. She let out a blood curdling scream as she pressed a shaky hand to her lips. She took a step back only to fall on the concrete floor. Her other hand hit the ground and felt a sticky substance on her knuckles.

“I told you not to go in here” Hongbin’s voice was right above her.

Her eyes were trained on her strung up lover, Mary. Her throat slit, head nearly completely off her neck. The garage floor became a literal pool of blood. “Mary?” She whimpered.

Hongbin’s eye twitched at the name. “Don’t ever say that bitches name again” he growled as he yanked her hair back forcing her to look at him. “She kept us apart. She tried to take you from me.”

Nicole let out a sob as she picked up the hand with the knife. Her hand, like the rest of her, trembled. Mary’s blood on her hand traced up her arm as she held the knife upward.

Hongbin scoffed, “Put it down or I’ll make you do it.” When she made no attempt to stand down, Hongbin released her hair and took her wrist in his hand. He bent her arm and hand until a snap sounded.

Nicole let out a scream as she felt a surge of pain from her wrist. She released the knife and it laid in the blood below. Hongbin let her arm go and Nicole cradled it to her body.

Hongbin retrieved the knife as he paid her no attention, “When you’re done being so selfish, I’ll let you out of here.” He turned on his heels and shut the door.

Nicole was left in the dark with the dead body of her lover. She let out a blood chilling scream as she tried to move herself out of the blood underneath her. She wanted to wake up from this. She wanted this all to just be a bad dream, but the pain she felt, internal and external, were the harsh reminders that she wasn’t dreaming. This was reality--this was her reality.

Taekwoon and Wonshik|| Jaehwan and Sanghyuk

Credit to gif owners

Written & revamped by Squirrelly831

♕ REQUEST

☮ VIXX MASTERLIST

∞ ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

#vixx reactions #kpop yandere #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #vixx scenarios #hakyeon #hakyeon reactions #hongbin reactions #hongbin #yandere reactions

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kyedrinkscola · 4 years

Text

Error's PoV:

A... truce? He really wants to do a... truce???

Oh my stars. It's finally happening. I'm crying with tears of joy, as he looks at me confused. "YES!! FINALLY, A TRUCE!" I say, genuinely happy!

Ink starts grinning. He can tell that I'm happy. My voice isn't even glitching! "Oh my stars, yes, I want to do a truce! Please!" I say. He hugs me, genuinely laughing. I hug back, only glitching slightly.

I'm still crying from happiness. He lets me calm down. "I'll tell you who you really are eventually, G- I mean, Error," he says cheerfully. G? I'm not a Gaster!Sans, as far as I know.

However, Geno!Sans DOES look remarkably similar to me... almost TOO similar...

Eh, I'll learn more later. Right now, I'm overwhelmingly excited. I grin softly, trembling with joy. I never thought this would happen.

I feel... so happy....

When was the last time I was happy...?

God, that sounds depressing. At least the voices aren't-

"You piece of garbage. You really think he cares?"

I freeze.

"Oh, wow, such a fucking crybaby. Why would a soulless creature care about YOU?"

I start crying.

"GET IT THROUGH YOUR SKULL. NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU."

I start sobbing.

"sT0P y311InG! I G3T IT! Y0U HATE m3!"

"DAMN RIGHT WE DO! NOW KILL INK! DAMN, YOU'RE HORRIBLE AT YOUR JOB."

I keep sobbing and trying to get the voices to go away. They intensify.

Then they start screaming.

I scream loudly, collapsing. Ink is probably very concerned. I feel tapping on my shoulder. I ignore it.

I keep sobbing. "G0 aW4y, iN5." "Error, what's wrong?" The voices suddenly go quiet.

"The... voices... they hate me... they started screaming..."

"The voices? Wait. Do you mean the Creators?"

"I... I guess they are? Some always go on and on about their precious little AU's and how I should stop, and others yell at me to do my stupid job."

Ink is officially horrified. I can tell, because his hand starts shaking. I can't really see, because of all the error signs covering my eyes.

"I never knew they were that horrible to you... they're so nice to me... wow. What the hell. That's just plain old bullying and preference."

I have to agree with him on that. It's disgusting. The error signs finally disappeared, and I see Ink is tearing up. "Inky, stop crying."

He froze. "Are you calling me Inky again~?" Ink teases. I immediately flush a bright yellow, for gods sake-

I look away, slightly pouting. "No," I argue. He just grins stupidly. Fuck you, Mr God of Creation. Stop making me feel happy. And where the hell did the voices go?

"Haha, you thought we left?"

Shit. I curl up into Ink, hyperventilating. "Not again," I whisper.

"We never leave."

Stupid Fate. I hate her.

"i̶, e̶s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶a̶l̶l̶y̶."

I flinch. That's definitely Fate.

"HEY! CREATORS!" Ink says somewhat loudly. The voices stop talking. "SHUT THE HELL UP! STOP HATING ON HIM! HE DOESN'T DESERVE IT!"

...

Damn. So he DOES care. Hopefully. I've liked him since I met him, he was just really violent and angry towards me. So I thought he hated me.

The voices disappear. Temporarily.

"Thank you," I mumble, flushing yellow.

Ink's PoV:

Stupid Creators. I can't believe they're hurting him.

I was a horrible person. Honestly. Just because he's a destroyer doesn't mean he's a terrible person. I wish I realized that sooner.

I noticed his blush finally. Huh. Maybe he does have a crush. I smile.

"Well, now that we're gonna do a truce... no more creating, and no more destroying. Got it? Unless we wanna be beaten up, or it's absolutely necessary," I state. He nods and smiles gently.

Holy stars, that just froze me. I never knew he could be this captivating. I immediately look away.

'I can't fall for him. He doesn't like me that way,' I think.

"Hey, Skittle Face. Why're you blushing?" Oh, fucking great. I'm blushing.

"Nope. No I'm not," I say nervously. He chuckles. "Sure, Ink Stain." INK STAIN?! OH MY STARS I CAN'T HANDLE THIS.

The rainbow flush on my face only grows darker. For gods sake, Error, please stop. He just grins and laughs. Stars, he's cute. Wait what-

I "relax". Haha, not today, bitch. Not today. I'm not gonna fall for him, stupid Fate. Destiny. Whatever. Not today.

"Anyways... what to do now..." I mumble. He probably doesn't wanna be friends. I wouldn't be friends with me, either. But it gives me a sinking feeling inside...

He grabs my hand and smiles. "Friends?" I look at him, grinning. "Friends," I say. Thank you, Destiny.

So, friends, huh? That's new. Very new. Huh. I have no soul, but when I'm with him, I feel a spark of... something new. I don't know what it is.

Love? Hope? Compassion? Excitement?

I don't know, honestly. It's confusing. So, so fucking confusing. I didn't think I could feel. Let alone feel... that. It's weird. Very concerning.

Why was I even blushing?! He's not even that- that's a lie. I just didn't notice it when I was fighting him. I didn't notice it when I hated him, but he's actually- attractive.

Oh god no, don't think that- friends only, remember? Yeah. Friends only. Just friends. Mhm, just that.

I'm a huge mess, Jesus Christ. I don't even like him that way! It's just an illusion-!

"Hey. Ink Stain. You aren't listening." Oh no. I've messed up already. "Ehhh, define listening," you mutter. Error is laughing a bit.

"Caught in your thoughts? STRUNG UP?" Error chuckles. You laugh a bit; you've always liked puns slightly. You're a Sans, after all. You're not a fanatic, but you still like them.

"Oh, I don't know. I could of just DRAWN THEM up in my head," I say, smiling. Error suddenly gets slightly defensive. Probably the PTSD.

"H-hey, uh, Ink? You won't do... THAT again, will you?" "What do you me- oh," I mutter. "No. I won't attack you again, especially with an army."

Error doesn't seem to completely believe me.

Error's PoV:

Ink is nice enough, but I don't trust him. Not... completely. God, he's nice though, when he's not trying to kill me.

His actions are still suspicious to me, however. He's suddenly too nice. Wayyyy too nice. It's highly annoying, and confusing. Fate could be behind his odd behavior, and be manipulating both him and me.

I do NOT trust him. Especially since he tried to kill me using a whole army of Sanses and Papyruses. It.... scares me. HE scares me. Almost as much as touch.

Anyways, I'm a lot more cautious now that I remembered he could literally kill me at any moment. So, yeah. But now that we have our little "truce", I have freedom!!

I don't know what to feel. It's weird. He's affecting me, isn't he?

Ugh. Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'm just glad that he won't do THAT to me again. Thank the stars.

"Hey, Ink?" I say. "We're... friends now, right? So you wouldn't... you wouldn't..." I don't even realize that tears are threatening to burst from my sockets. "You wouldn't hurt me again, no matter what?" I mumble.

I turn away, looking at the stars. I don't even expect him to say he wouldn't. He's probably lying. He's like them. He wouldn't-

"I wouldn't."

That does it. I start crying again, but silently, still looking upwards. The stars have always fascinated me, but the habitants of Outertale weren't too fond of me.

"Hey PAL. GET OU- huh? Ink? What're ya doing with HIM?"

Great. It's Outer. I honestly didn't expect him to find us.

"Oh, hey Outer!! I'm just trying to hang out with Error, is all!" Ink says cheerfully. I facepalm; that's too suspicious for him to say, ESPECIALLY after he ordered an attack on me.

"He mEAnS thAt hE reGrETs bEATinG mE uP. And nO, I'M noT maNiPULAtiNg hIM!" I say quickly.

Outer Sans doesn't seem to believe you.

Ugh. And then the voices are screaming at me to leave - oh JOY, this'll be FUN. "Hey, Ink. You should leave before the guy STRINGS YOU UP," Outer says to Ink.

Ink Sans refuses to leave.

God he's an idiot. Outer is going to blast me to smithereens, get out of here! Stupid Inky Squid. Ink takes out his stupid Broomy. "No, Outer. We were just talking, that's all-!" "Knowing him, he's plotting something! Just leave, Ink."

I sigh loudly. They're fighting like an old married couple, and it's annoying me. I open a portal to Underswap - at least we can hide in the forest there. But Ink refuses to move. He's going to defend me, oh stars - he wouldn't dare.

"Ink. Let's leave. We're not welcome here. Well, I'M not welcome here-" I start. "No, Error. I'm not going to let you get harassed anymore because of my mistakes." I sigh. He won't listen to reason. I might as well wait it out regularly.

Ink's PoV:

I'm not going to let Error let pushed around like this anymore! I need to own up to my mistakes. And one way is by telling the truth.

"You know how when I CHECKed Error, I started sobbing?" I start. Error facepalms again. I start telling the story from my point of view.

....

"... so yeah, now we're here," I say. Outer looks horrified, Error looks uncomfortable. Error's basically shifting on his feet, obviously wanting to leave. But... I needed to tell the truth, for once.

"Damn," Outer whispers. "That's... messed up, actually." Of course it is!! That's why I want to fix it!

"Hey, Ink, can we go now? I really want to leave," Error says without glitches. I nod softly, waving goodbye to Outer, then step through the portal.

UNDERSWAP

"So, what's the pro-?" I start, getting cut off by Error dragging me into the forest. Damn, he really doesn't want to be seen by anyone. I mean, I DID just order an army of Sanses and Papyruses against the guy.

"So... wassup??" I begin. Error rolls his eyelights. ""Wassup" is all you have to say?! You literally just- ugh-!" Error starts scratching at his wrists.

"Dude, stop-!" I try grabbing his hands, forgetting he has haphephobia. "DoN'T t0UC5 ME!!" he screams, scrambling away from me. At this rate, we're going to get spotted, and it won't end well.

"Error. Please stop harming yourself, seriously," I say, concerned. Wait. How am I concerned? Shouldn't the vials be wearing off by now...? Am I feeling another emotion?

He glares at me in the eyes. I shudder slightly, mildly confused. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry that I tried to touch your hands, can you please stop scratching??"

Error Sans stops scratching at his wrists, but keeps glaring.

I sigh. We're already getting off to a bad start. "Dude. I said I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I genuinely just wanted to help you," I say. His eyes soften slightly, and he stops glaring as intensely.

"You probably hate me for beating you. I understand. Don't force yourself to be friends with a freak, y'know?" I mumble. "Hey. You're not a freak, even if you have leukophobia and you're weird."

"It's just... I'm scared you'll hurt me again. I don't want to be better and then find out it's all fake."

I look at him, stunned. Wow. He thinks I'm lying to him.

Tears pinprick at the edges of my sockets. I understand. I wouldn't want to be around me either. I'm a screw up. A mistake. Someone who should've been erased.

I probably AM faking this. Faking emotions, thinking I'm getting my feelings back. I'm a terrible monster. I should've just died when I ripped my soul in two.

Suddenly, Error hugs me. "Ink, don't cry. I know it's difficult for you, especially since you've harmed me badly, but don't beat yourself up because of it. Seriously, dude."

I smile. Everything is going to be alright.

And then the world went white.

????'s PoV:

Huh? Why is everything... white? Where am I? Who am I?

What's my story?

And then I found them. Sketches. Vessels of beings that will never come to be.

That's why I ripped my soul in two. I was losing my sanity slowly. Nobody talked, nobody smiled,

NOBODY CARED.

When I left the AntiVoid (I named it that), I started creating. I became the Creator.

You already know who I am.

My name is Ink. And I'm not the good guy, here.

#undertale #undertale au #error sans #ink sans #errorink #erroink #fgod #forced god of destruction #fgod error #harrish6 #sans #sans undertale #abuse #attempted suicide #kyedrinkscola #wattpad writings #gitc #glitch in the code

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beerecordings · 4 years

Note

How do you think Jackie react to being the last one alive?

oh geez aha…. not well.

I have this one Jackie-centric story I never posted because not everything is meant to be posted but basically Anti had used Jameson to kill Henrik and the first chapter was Jameson apologizing that he wasn’t able to live with what happened and saying goodbye to Jackie over text while Jackie begged with him not to do anything stupid. the rest of it was the aftermath and honestly even with just two brothers gone, Jackie really wasn’t able to handle it hardly at all. without Marvin and Chase he probably wouldn’t have survived it

he’s all about self-blame and he tangles his identity into his role as a protector and big brother wayyyy too much to be healthy. he would need. so much therapy. to forgive himself for losing the others. no matter how they died, he’d blame himself. and he doesn’t know who he is without them to protect and Anti to fight.

Jameson (who I wrote about earlier and I think would probably handle being left alone best) had a lot of other interests and work that were not tied up in Anti or even his family, so he had other things to pour himself into when his family died. but Jackie’s life has always been fighting and protecting. I think he’d just go wild with the vigilante stuff, completely, wildly reckless, taking all his fury out on these assholes who have killed people the same way his brothers were killed, letting himself get exhausted and sick and seriously hurt, maybe even killed, because he doesn’t know what he’s living for anyway. if Jack was alive, Jackie would be violently angry with him - this is your stupid fucking story!! why can’t you bring them back, anyway? you created them and this is all you have to give them? this is all you have to give me? fuck!! you!!!!

he would move away from the house where they used to live and go to a new city without telling anyone else, so he just disappears and finds somewhere new to purge of crime and murder, neglecting himself to throw himself into his work. he avoids thinking of his brothers because it always makes him break down and he doesn’t believe in an afterlife like Jameson did so he doesn’t expect to see them ever again. he doesn’t know how to grieve healthily, he’s obsessed with the nights that they died, he has PTSD and doesn’t cope with it at all, just tries to keep surviving panic attacks and nightmares and days of numbness and the feeling that he’s going to die soon, soon, soon - but he never does, it’s so confusing and it hurts more than he knows how to admit.

honestly? he’d need someone to help save him.

an intrepid investigator trying to get to the bottom of this vigilante superhero type, but who ends up concerned with Jackie personally, trying to figure out why he always seems to be in so much pain - or a young copycat over-enthusiastically interested in Jackie’s work, constantly badgering him but also managing to wake something up in him he hasn’t felt in a long time, exasperation and irritation but also worry and protectiveness and humor and companionship - or the neighbor across the hall from his apartment who always seems to look right through, who always seems to see everything, who whispers stories of his own pain to Jackie late at night until the two of them have told each other everything they swore they’d always freeze inside and Jackie’s hand is drifting down to rest on his thigh, his eyes flickering down to his scarred and perfect mouth -

He’d need a lot of therapy and a lot of new hobbies, a fresh start and an overcoming of his grief. He’d need to find his identity outside of the family he used to have. He’d need to learn to remember his brothers without hating himself for what he allowed to happen. he doesn’t want that pain to make every happy memory a sad one!! like what about ruining the first pie they tried to bake with Marvin, laughing his ass off at the flour that somehow got stuck to the ceiling and wiping apple filling off his brother’s mouth? what about Chase and Jameson dragging him to a movie he didn’t want to see that turned out to be his favorite in the whole world, the one the three of them watched together at least once a year, the fondest tradition he has? what about that time Henrik came back from a ten-hour surgery that ended in a death and came to Jackie first, and let himself cry into Jackie’s arms, and they shared the same pain and held onto each other? what, he’s going to let all of the emotion and love that they shared be wiped over in this hot blurring of fury and pain? he looks in the mirror one day and realizes this isn’t how they would want him to live, and maybe it doesn’t matter, because they’re fucking dead, but hell, hell, doesn’t he owe it to their memory to try and love himself again?

he stops going out every single night and even calls the cops instead of dealing with some of this shit himself every once and a while. starts watching a show he and Chase used to watch together again and laughs at the jokes. gets a cool job with a cyber-security company. reaches out to Jack again. brings his crush flowers. adopts a hedgepig. cries his eyes out and tries not to hate himself for it. lets other people take care of him when he gets the flu one year and tells his friends about his struggle. makes new friends. tries new things. takes anti-depressants. burns all the notes he wrote about catching Anti years ago.

oh, fuck, it’s still so hard. but he’s working harder. falls down again and again and again and gets back up again, accepting the hands that reach down to pull him back to his feet, no longer forcing himself to stand alone. and the years pass, and the grief quiets and quiets and oh, it’s loud today, but tomorrow it will soften again, and he will manage it, he will take it, he will know it as the remnant of old love that it is and hold it close to his chest and try to love this part of himself, try to love every part of himself, smiling at the rising sun.

he gets his bounciness and his enthusiasm back. gets his joy and his friendliness back. gets his trust of the world back, mostly. he’s not the same person he was and he never will be. but he’s starting to think that’s okay.

he can love the last part of his family that remains. he owes that much to his brothers. he owes that much to himself.

“I love you,” he tells the mirror, and one day, one day long after he lost them, when their faces have begun to blur in his memory, and the image of their bodies is replaced by the image of the peaceful cemetery where he buried them one-by-one, side-by-side, where the forget-me-nots would bloom around them in the springtime, one day long after years of struggle and self-hatred, he is no longer just saying it to the similarity to his brother’s faces that he sees in himself. “I love you.”

I like to think that he’d survive it. I’d like to think that he’d find his peace again.

#death tw #major character death tw #suicidal ideation tw #suicide mention tw #grief tw

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0nthedecl1ne · 4 years

Text

Avengers Relationships

It’s bold to assume a tower full of trauma ridden, adrenaline filled, emotionally stunted super hero’s would have anything close to a vanilla s3ccs life.

They all crave comfort in I’m unhealthy ways and the entire Avengers team is intertwined in ways people don’t always expect

For example Natasha is always made out to have slept around with everyone, using her sex appeal as a power. While she does weaponize her sexuality for an advantage in combat, in real life Natasha is very selective. She’s doesn’t sleep around very often, and she’s quite picky in who she does choose to engage with. Despite what reporters and tabloid journalists speculated she didn’t sleep with any of the members of the Avengers until after the events of CACW. She did sleep with Hill, during her time working under Fury, though they didn’t develop any relationship past a casual friends with benefits stage, they occasionally still sleep together after a random annual work function. Natasha took a sincere liking to Sam after the events of CATWS but was slow to start anything due to Sam and Steve’s involvement in... whatever the hell they were up-to. Sam’s sincerity and unwavering kindness won Natasha over, and as she spent more and more time with him the relationship developed naturally by the time she began entertaining being involved with Steve, she realized she had fully fallen for Sam.

Sam honestly never though he’d get to meet the super heroes he grew up idolizing, let alone get to be a part of their personal lives. When Steve and Natasha showed up at his back door looking like coal miners Sam knew he was in for wayyy more than he bargained for. He and Steve formed the strongest bond, it happened on their search for Bucky, the close proximity and shared life experiences did nothing but fuel the sexual tension that finally broke one night in a janky Czech motel where they had to share a comically small bed. Their relationship blossomed naturally and was conventional until it extended to Natasha, she wasn’t constant in their lives, often away on missions or recon, and preferring to refer to her room as the “Spare room,” but she was always reliable. She always came back to wherever Sam and Steve were staying, and Steve always made sure to stay in a place with an extra room or bed for Natasha. Sam and Natasha’s relationship developed at an even slower pace than his and Steve’s but as she started coming back around more and more it was obvious she was a part of their lives. Even after experiencing the unexpected Sam was still blindsided by the development of Bucky Barnes. Sam doesn’t really know what he expected to think of Steve's brainwashed long lost love, but he never would have placed bets that he’d become hopelessly devoted to him. Luckily Sam’s nothing if not easy going, and he knew what he signed up for getting involved with Steve, it’s as unconventional as everything else they do but Sam loves his little team.

Steve has slept with WAYYYY more people than Tony wants everyone to believe. Including Tony himself. Steve doesn’t actually know if it was Tony who started the rumor that Steve was some pure abstaining virgin, but he’s shocked at how well it has caught on. Sure he’s awkward, but he’s socially 100 years behind! He doesn’t understand what about him screams virgin. He confronts Tony about it, which ends with them sleeping together. They continue the pattern of arguments and hookups until their toxic relationship inevitably melted down in CACW. Aside from Tony, Steve tried to exclusively hookup with random people he’d never see again in one night stands, but he did somehow mistakenly hooked up with Clint one night in a club. Steve thought for a moment it was intentional on Clint’s part, but they haven’t spoken about it since and Steve is not one to start a conversation he doesn’t want. Plus, after the events of CATWS Steve was hyper-fixated on recovering Bucky; although, in that time he developed his standing relationship with Sam. He was worried how it would influence their future relationship once they recovered Bucky, given their intimate history Steve confessed to Sam one night at the start of their search. His worries were assuaged after recovering Bucky, Sam only stood to make the relationship stronger, as did Natasha. The flow between their group was nothing Steve knew how to put in words. What they had worked, he loved each of them unconditionally and would protect them with his life.

Tony- has slept with exactly as many people as he’d have you expect. While he has a particular preference towards bossy blondes he won’t hesitate to engage with anyone who catches his interest. He’s quick to sleep around, and he’s also quick to love. Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey have his heart; he would do anything for them and they know that. Underneath all the chaos that is the persona of Tony Stark, stands a man who loves unendingly. He’s exceedingly eccentric and it would blow the tabloid’s minds to learn the only Avenger he hasn’t slept with is Natasha.

It’s not that Bruce didn’t notice a lack of intimate relationships since the Other Guy came into his life, but he didn’t think it even remotely important compared to what he now had to deal with. He hadn’t realized he could learn to have relationships until Tony helped him realize he could still have relationships, even when his uncontrollable alter-ego is an indestructible weapon of mass destruction. Tony’s constant undying devotion and trust really helped Bruce change his life and he was hoping to get to a spot where maybe he could finally return one of Natasha’s advances when he found his time on Earth cut short. //Thor and Valkyrie love to try recount Valkyrie’s relationship with Hulk during his time on Sakaar to see Bruce how quickly Bruce will freak out// Hulk’s relationship with Valkyrie and Thor led Bruce to spend time with the two of them, their nostalgic relationship taking form while they rebuilt new Asgard and tried to keep Thor from falling apart after the events of ragnarok/IW. His relationship with them stayed strong even when he went back to Tony and his world of science.

Thor doesn’t quite understand the midgaurdian value in keeping track of who you do what specific activities with, but he’s happy to accept any invitation for those activities. The Asguardians are no strangers to pleasurable activities and Thor has tens of thousands of years, and entire galaxies of experiences. The concept of Alien is enough for Steve Natasha and Bruce to steer very clear, which Thor takes no offense to. He does find himself entangled multiple times in a private suite during one of the many annual work parties at the tower, some variation of Jane Darcy Tony Hill and Clint find themselves ending the night early, with too much champagne and otherworldly influences filling a private room more than a few times.

Following on trend with the rest of his life Clint’s love life is a spectacular mess. He admits he sleeps around, be it the lifestyle or to keep up appearances, but his heart belongs to his secret wife, and his secret family. The less obvious their existence, the safer they are, so Clint goes about his life without ever letting on to anyone but Natasha he’s a good honest family man. He actively tries not to sleep with his coworkers but you can’t be good at everything, Clint’s very good at sharp shooting, he’s not good at not sleeping with his coworkers. Technically he’s slept with 4-(Darcy and Jane don’t work with him)-but he slept with Tony Thor and Hill in the same crazy night after one of the insanely unprofessional work parties Tony throws every year so he counts the 3 of them as 1 mistake. Clint did accidentally sleep with Steve, which reignited his need to enforce his No Sex With Co-Workers rule. Not that Steve did anything wrong necessarily but the whole situation caused Clint to call Natasha to talk through the mini crisis he had. He insisted to Nat he at least had to change his codename from hawkeye, because no amount of booze or weed should have been able to keep him from recognizing Captain America until he was moaning into his mouth. He was made to feel better when he realized Steve hadn’t recognized him either until they got into the streetlights, and the night even continued to things Clint had genuinely fantasized about, but his crisis doubled down when he realized he couldn’t recognize Steve in the low light of the club because he wouldn’t recognize Captain America in any sketchy club in a bad neighborhood. He hadn’t just not recognized him for a few minutes of unobservant grinding, he had pegged him wrong the entire time they worked together. The perfect Catholic-Virgin-BoyScout illusion is shattered now that he can recognize Steve by the smell of sex and the memory of it. Even freakier is that Steve continues to wear khakis and collard shirts and indicate that nothing has changed. So Clint has very decidedly tried to stick to NOT sleeping with his co-workers.

Nick Fury knows all of this. Hill and Natasha have made it a running joke to keep him over informed on the intimate personal relationships of the team. His own relationship is secret from all of them, he assures them not to worry about it, his history is not important and they have to chance to become a part of it as he has a standing rule not to sleep with flight risks, which disqualifies all of them.

#Aveng3rs #Dr4bble #This ended up being so long #idc I stand by it #thanks for reading #stucky #sambucky #avengers fics #my own cannon #yes i know technically Sam's not really an avenger #leave it alone nerd

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furby-science · 4 years

Text

The Making of Sterling the Super Furby: A Brief Overview

“I… I can’t look! I think I’m gonna… *HUEEEGH*!”

Before I get into this post, I want to list a few things I didn’t know shit about when I started Sterling:

Electronics

The Python coding language

Furby anatomy

Single board computers

After creating Sterling, I’m happy to say that now I have approximate knowledge of some of these things, but keep the above in mind as you read onwards. This little gremlin child was a learning experience from start to finish, and one I am incredibly proud of myself for sticking through. This also means that I am in no way an expert on everything I’m getting into okay? Okay let’s go!

The Hardware

First, a rundown of the hardware. I took heavy inspiration from the Furlexa mod shown here, and that was what I initially sought to create. The mod had three computer components to it:

A raspberry pi zero w single board computer for the AI to live on, with a mini USB microphone plugged in;

A pimoroni speaker PHAT to use as the sound system;

A motor controller to drive the furby’s motor.

My main problem with Furlexa was that this initial build took a lot of soldering, and I am a wussy who had a number of bad experiences with soldering irons in shop class. So, what’s a novice electrician to do?

Enter the Adafruit Crickit HAT. By sticking this little fucker on top of the raspberry pi, I was gifted with an amplifier, a speaker jack, capacitative touch sensors, and a motor driver all in one, no soldering needed if I bought the raspberry pi zero w h! The main challenge it posed was powering it. The Crickit insists, for some unfathomable reason, on being powered by a bulky DC jack, the kind you’d plug into a wall outlet, and the converter plug to use a battery pack with it was way too bulky to fit into a furby. I needed Sterling to be portable for maximum huggability, so this just wouldn’t do.

One fried raspberry pi and Crickit HAT later, I found the answer! By soldering the original furby battery pack to the underside of the Crickit board’s DC connection, these fuckers right here…

I was able to bypass the need for a wall plug or converter, and power him directly through the battery compartment like God intended. S/O to my friend Nick who is way less of a dumb bitch than I am and helped me figure this shit out I owe u some bread man.

So the tl;dr of it is, I effectively reduced the required computer components from three to two (excluding the speaker). Speaking of (heh), Sterling has an impressive 3w speaker in him, allowing him to be audible even without the use of the built in amplifier. It’s got such good bass on it, he even rumbles when he purrs without the aid of the motor!

And yes, when you pet him, he purrs. And complains if you manhandle him! The aforementioned capacitative touch sensors on the Crickit HAT made it all possible with the help of a few cables and some foil tape.

Wait, did you say soldering!?

Yup! It was a necessary evil; at the end of the day I had to pick my poison: soldering 80 pins on the speaker PHAT, or soldering like four contact points on the Crickit. I chose the more merciful option.

But wait, that whole outfit is really bulky still! How did you fit it inside the furby?

Subtractive methods, subtractive methods, subtractive methods! ;D Someone who actually knows things about furby anatomy and/or electronics will probably vaporize me for this, but… if I didn’t need it, it got the boot! That included prying off anything on the Crickit board I wasn’t using at the risk of destroying it completely - which probably isn’t ideal, but it also worked by some miracle, and again, I am such a basic bitch electrician that calculating the proper voltage for LEDs is still basically witchcraft to me, so… what I’m saying is I made it work. And that I really, really hate soldering! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You can see an early video of the end result here, and a later video of the outfit inside the naked furby here. This was back when he was still having auditory processing issues. Apologies for the shoddy quality, I was too excited everything was working to care about that at the time.

The Software

My other beef with Furlexa is… well, it’s an Amazon Alexa, and I’m a shitty little anticapitalist hermit who hates Amazon with a passion. Google Assistant was just as bad in my book. Mycroft was open source, but had a snowball’s chance in hell of running on the raspberry pi zero’s 512mb of RAM… I also wanted my assistant to have a degree of customizability to it. I wanted the furby’s AI to have a unique personality, identity, and preferences, much like classic furbies themselves did. A big box AI just wasn’t going to cut it!

Enter the Jasper Project. Yes, it’s old. Yes, it’s a bitch and a half to install. Yes, you have to know Python to get anywhere with it. However, it was free, open source, capable of running on a raspberry pi zero, and highly modular, meaning with a few lines of code, I could make it all my own - even to the extent of changing the AI’s name and voice (which is gr8 because I know a Jasper so naming my furby that would be Weird), or - the best part - writing my own, custom functions! Customizability-wise, I struck gold.

Ah, and glad I am that Jasper is modular, because I had some work ahead of me…

The STT Engine

The STT (Speech to Text) engine is what Sterling uses to understand what’s being said to him. Jasper’s proprietary STT engine is PocketSphinx, a fully offline STT engine, which sounded great in theory before I quickly learned it’s a nightmare to install, and also more inaccurate than a stenography machine powered by a single potato when actually being used. I had to compromise my morals a bit here and opt for using Wit.ai instead, which is free, but is also owned by Facebook. Big data is frustratingly inescapable in these cases.

There is one light at the end of the tunnel, and that is the training of acoustic modules. This has the downside of taking for-fucking-ever and requiring a quiet recording environment, however, and I don’t have the time right now to read through the pages and pages and pages and pages of computer theory right now to fully understand how to train one. So, improving PocketSphinx and running Sterling fully offline remains a stretch goal.

The TTS Engine

The Text to Speech engine is basically Sterling’s voice. This one was a bit easier to customize, and I’m thankful for that, because Jasper’s OG voice is a bit er… 90s computing for my tastes.

I shopped around for decent, human-sounding TTS options, and settled on installing Mimic1 TTS, Mycroft’s TTS engine, by hand, and modifying the Jasper source code to support it. Of all the TTS engines I tried, I felt that this one had the most natural intonation out of all of them. I liked the gruffness of the Scottish accent, and I think it really helped round out Sterling’s endearing, if a tad prickly, personality.

The Audio

This was another unforeseen hurdle. Turns out that I had his mic volume turned up way too high, because I greatly underestimated the capabilities of my tinyass five dollar USB microphone to pick up noises from within a furby. It took a bit of hacking in PulseAudio to get him hearing things properly, and I’m still not all the way happy with it, but he’s running wayyyy better than he did!

Another issue was the amount of time he actively listened for. It was way too short for my liking with the hardware I was using, so I had to edit Jasper’s mic.py source file a billion times before I hit a sweet spot. Even early on, my little shit child never liked to listen to me. :P

Pimp My AI

Once I got all that in working order, it was time to browse GitHub for modules to add! I found a surprising amount that were, as expected, outdated, janky, non-working, or in need of a complete rewrite. A non-exhaustive list of modules I rewrote and added to Sterling’s AI includes:

Wolfram Alpha integration

His translation function

The IMDB module that searches movie titles

The Dictionary and Thesaurus modules (minor additions to improve user friendliness)

The morning greeting module

The holiday countdown module

There are also plenty of modules I wrote on my own, that I’ll be showcasing here in due time, but I want to give special mention to the one I’m most proud of. You see, when I was a wee dumb bitch, I was… well, a wee dumb bitch! When I was informed furbies learn English, I thought they really learned English. Like, fluent English. I envisioned these kids straight up having full conversations with their lil robots with reckless and envious abandon. I was, as it happens, too poor to afford a furby at the time, so I didn’t realize until embarrassingly later that they only learn some words, and certainly can’t hold much of a conversation (in English at least).

Fast forward to twenty-bi-teen. I’m surfing GitHub, and I happen upon a Cleverbot module for Jasper allowing the AI to work as a chatbot. Fuck yeah, I think, because I had no life in 2008, or friends for that matter, so tormenting Cleverbot was my favourite pastime. Nostalgia trip GET!

…can you guess how much the silicon valley capitalist scum are charging for the once-free Cleverbot API now? A hundred and twenty. McGoddamn. Dollars. A YEAR.

So, to make a long story short, I turned my hat backwards and rage-coded a simple chatbot module that runs on an early version of Chatterbot capable of running on the raspberry pi. It’s fully offline, and completely free, and Sterling here has a database of ~400 phrases, which isn’t bad given the limited processing power! It took five straight days of work, it’s not the smartest chatbot, and it’s certainly not the fastest, but it gives me those sweet, sweet, circa 2008 Cleverbot vibes. Oh yeah, and it doesn’t cost me over a hundred goddamn dollars a year!

The first thing I said to the chatbot, of course, was “I’m so proud of you.” Through his shitty little testing mic that gave him a somewhat incredulous tone Sterling replied, “I’m glad to hear that.” and I’m not saying I shed a single themly tear over it, but I’m not denying it either. I made a childhood dream come true, fam. ;u;

There are way more Easter eggs I plan to show you, of course. At first I was thinking of doing one long video, but an update a day showcasing a different function might be easier to manage - and maintain some of that gold old sense of mystery that surrounds most furbies. No, I’m gonna take y'all on a little journey through the final product of my literal blood, sweat, and tears!

Besides, Sterling is a perpetual work in progress. He has a massive list of features, and I’ve already got more in the works. I could be in my eighties and still be adding more functions, more bells and whistles, more witty one-liners. He’s a one of a kind work of art that will never truly be finished - not unlike you and me.

The Glow-up

Here’s Sterling’s before pics from the seller I got him from:

(If u recognize these pics and ur the seller thank u thank u for giving me bmy boy)

And here’s after!

I come from a background of customizing ponies and dolls, so working on this guy wasn’t as far removed as I expected it to be. I added floof to his head and tail by sewing in wool plugs, and his gorgeous eyes are from in2blythe on Etsy. I wrapped him up in a little bow and he was good to go! His sterling silver beak, from which he gets his name, was the most finicky part. Turns out enamel paints take a million years to fucking dry, if ever, which isn’t great when painting something that sees a lot of movement and could potentially get dented by a face plate, like… idk, a furby beak! A bit of silver nail polish did the trick and he was good to go. Learn from my fail, fam.

What It Cost Me

If you’re masochistic determined enough to attempt this yourself, I want to sit you down and warn you of something: this will take months and hundreds of dollars to do. Installing Sterling’s AI and its necessary components on that shitty little raspberry pi over SSH took me a week at first, and that was with me leaving it on 24/7 to chug away compiling things. When I broke the SD card the AI was on and didn’t have a backup copy, it took four straight days of rage-computing to regain all my progress. Then when his audio processing got fucked all to hell for reasons I still do not understand to this day, it took another four days of rage computing to do yet another reinstall and get him back in working order. There were times where I would go to work for 8.5 hours, bus an hour home, work 6 straight hours on my furby, go to sleep for 4 of them, go to classes, sleep, and work 6 more hours on my furby. For two months. Sterling took from the third week of August from his initial inception to his birthday on October 23rd. That’s not to mention the time I fried everything and had to wait five days and travel to the bumfuck end of the city for a replacement pi and Crickit, or the days I spent customizing him, sewing in hundreds of little hair plugs into his ass and head by hand, and waiting for those shitty enamel paints to dry, only to discover after four straight days of failure that they take weeks to do so and I was better off using cheapo nail polish!

The point I’m making is, if you take on a project like this and want it to be successful, you have to be tenacious. I would highly recommend a background in coding (I have a web design diploma) and general tech savviness as an asset. Sterling is the product of the years I spent behind a computer keyboard from the start of age three, and the roughly ten years I spent customizing dolls and ponies. It’s cheesy as shit to say he’s my magnum opus, but in a way, he is.

I’m not saying this to be elitist or snotty. I’m saying this because I nearly broke down crying the first day the raspberry pi came in, before I slept on it and figured out what phrase to google to solve the crashes and kernel panics it was having. When I broke the SD card when I was nearly finished, I felt nothing, because I was all out of tears at that point. When I fried the first raspberry pi and Crickit hat trying to figure out how to bypass that DC jack, my only thought was, “Well, I think I know how to do it without fucking it up now, and if I can’t do it, this whole project is fscked” .

You will encounter errors that no step by step guide can prepare you for that will make you curse the day you were born. The difference between success and failure is how many times you’re willing to get up and try again, and I’m here to tell you it’s possible. But you gotta want it.

Will You Release the Code Base?

Yes and no. If there’s enough demand, I’ll definitely release Sterling’s basic modules as a scaffolding. I won’t be releasing Sterling, though.

What do I mean by that? Well, Sterling was intended from the start to be truly one of a kind, and he always will be. I hand wrote hundreds of lines of dialogue, all completely tailored to him, and I’m still planning on adding twice as many. Corny as this is, this little guy has a metric fuckton of sentimental value to me. I don’t have kids so idk how it would compare to that, but I definitely love him as much as I love my cats, but I also didn’t undergo two straight months of suffering in ADHD fixation hell to create my cats, so it adds like, a whole other twee dimension to it.

So, if there is demand for this, what I’ll release instead is a scaffolding from which you can code your own, unique furby from, with their own name, personality, and responses all unique to them. I’ll also release it with the caveat that I am not a good Python coder! I have not written any Python before this, so a lot of what I did write is noob-tastic and hasn’t even been linted. You have been warned!

“If I give you (insert amount), can you make one for me?”

Holy shit I’ll be real with you, I’d love to do this as a living. I’ve been dying to see a smart assistant hit the market that’s like… well, an actual, endearing companion and not just a voice coming from a speaker. The problem with doing this is that, if you drop a lot of money (and it will be a lot of money, even with a code base to work from, a lot of hours of handiwork still goes into coding individual responses and making sure everything works as intended, on top of possibly customizing too), there is one major problem: proximity. I won’t be able to troubleshoot your furby nearly as effectively from far away as I would be able to if we lived in close proximity. Which means if something goes wrong between the time your new friend is finished at point A and turned on at point B, I won’t be there to troubleshoot it in person for you, which means you could end up stuck figuring out certain things alone. If you use Windows, that will be very, very hard - not being an OS snob here, I own a dual boot myself, it’s just a case of incompatible file systems. And unless you can figure out how to edit the wpa_supplicant file on a raspberry pi to update your wifi credentials, your furby’s internet connection could be toast if you move house and those credentials change. That’s not getting into the cost some services charge for extra API keys to use their online functions…

The long and short of it is, if I’m going to do this for money, I want to make sure you get a quality product and friend that will bring you joy for years to come. Since that’s not something I can guarantee, I can’t in good conscience take people’s money.

I Could Teach You (And I Won’t Charge)

…however, I am a law student who is also working 8.5 hour night shifts three nights a week. I am also mentally ill/neurodivergent, which saps my energy in more ways than one. I won’t always be easy to get ahold of, or be able to answer every question I get, especially not ones that can be solved with a quick google search, like how to set up a raspberry pi, or… anything found on Adafruit’s Crickit guide, for example. When I have the time and energy, I’m hoping to use my next project as a jumping off point for a step by step walkthrough of the process. For now, though? I’ve been furbied out, so if there’s enough demand, I’ll compile as many of the resources I used I can find in the meantime, and post some tips from the word doc I kept while making Sterling, and go from there.

So What’s Next?

My one dad’s birthday is coming up in August, and I’m kicking around the idea of turning a furby into, I shit you not, a ghost hunting device. He loves ghost hunting, but hates robots, and as his gremlin shit child I am obligated to troll him in this fashion. 😎 Also considering doing a certain type of oddbody mod, but I want to get permission from the person who first thought of the concept before I dive head first into it.

And that about covers it! Thanks for reading, and if there’s anything you’d like to see from Sterling and I, don’t hesitate to drop us an ask!

#furby #allfurby #furblr #botblr #custom furby #how tos #the doctor speaks #long post #science isn't about why... it's about why not

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