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theemissuniverse · 6 months

Note

Okay, okay, so I read the Shao Kahn fic for the first time earlier (I was avoiding it because I’ve never liked Shao Kahn), and now I’m genuinely questioning things about myself. He’s such a smug bitch and I’m ??? attracted to that?? (part 1 had me choking on my drink when it got to the NSFW part) All in all, extremely well-written, phenomenal characterization, I love how sassy the reader is because I actually see myself in them (I’m sick and tired of the timid, excessively submissive “I’m not like other girls” Y/N, so it’s a nice change of pace) also, the bits with Mileena were cute as hell. It made me think of-

Y/N: Alright, listen up, you motherfuckers. Not you, Mileena. You’re doing great and I’m glad you’re here.

But yeah, thank you for the food. I am now questioning my absolute loathing for Shao Kahn.

“IMPENDING DOOM” SHAO KAHN X FEM!READER PART 3

here’s part 1

here’s part 2

A/N : thank you! I’m glad that I’ve impressed the majority with you with this series! This is something I really like because it’s different

WARNINGS : (MDNI) thigh riding, praising, cumming

MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2

Questioning your relationship with Shao Kahn took place at an everyday occurrence. It was something that ran through your mind at a constant rate.

He was the cruel tyrant awaiting to conquer all realms. Not when he was with you though. Everything was different.

The way he acted around you, the way he treated you, the way he’d constantly make an effort for you.

It gave you…butterflies?

You had to of been ill. There was no way in the very depths of Outworld that you could ever fall for a man like Shao Kahn. It was uncanny.

You were in the dining hall, seated by yourself. You constantly tried to lift the fork that was sitting on the table. You managed to lift it at a great height until your magic gave up on you and it fell on the table. You sighed.

Someone had pulled up a chair to sit next to you. It was Mileena. “Your telekinetic gift has grown. Perhaps it is my father’s doing?”

You rested your chin on your hand. “Unfortunately, I have to give it to him - I did not expect for me to grasp this so quickly.”

A presence was behind you. “I still cannot understand why the Emperor would choose such a weak woman.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You knew it was Skarlet. “Thanks for the words of wisdom, Skar.” You stuck your thumb out sarcastically as a ‘thumbs up.’ “Always can count you, dude.”

Mileena turned to Skarlet, annoyed. “Don’t you have something better to do, vampire.”

Skarlet was offended by this. “I am no vampire, you failed Kitana clone.”

Mileena slammed her fist on the table and got up from her chair. “I am no clone!”

You got in between them. “Ladies. How bout we take five, yeah?”

The two of them stared down each other before Skarlet walked away. Mileena grumbled under her breath and crossed her arms.

You turned your attention back to Mileena. “Don’t worry about her. Let her be obsessed with her own father…or whatever Shao is to her.”

You sat down in your chair and continued to try and lift the fork into the air. Mileena just stared at you, curiously. “Do you really want to go through with the marriage?”

Pausing, you stared down at the fork. It was a valid question. You just didn’t have a valid answer. “I…don’t know.”

“My father is a lot of things but…he would never actually force you to do anything. If he’s doing all this then that means he knows that deep down, your heart desires it.”

The statement struck you. Because it was at least slightly true. Especially what Shang Tsung had told you. You were tired of being third best. You wanted to be the best.

Shao Kahn could give you that.

Were you starting to become the very villain you feared? All because you adored power?

Mileena walked away from you and you continued to sit there, getting tangled into your thoughts.

Hours had passed by and you were in your room. You were busy reading your book. The door had opened. You didn’t have to bother looking up. “Made anyone cry today?”

Shao Kahn rested his hammer on a chair not far from the door. “No but it’s only 3 in the afternoon.” He said, making you snicker. He took his red cape off and hung it on a nearby wall. “How was your day today?”

“We are not doing the husband and wife, asking each other about our days fiasco.” When you had said it, Shao Kahn uttered a laugh.

“What do you suggest we talk about then?”

“I don’t know. World hunger? Poor people? Anything else.”

Shao Kahn made his way towards the bathroom. He turned the water on for his bath. “Remind me to kill Reiko.”

The statement caught you off guard. You brought your head from your book and looked over to him. “Should I even ask why?”

Shao Kahn walked out of the bathroom and to the dresser where the big mirror was. He started to take off his rings. “He was in my chambers trying on my crown.”

“Damn. Dude might have a death wish.”

“And I will grant him that.”

You thought about it for a moment. You decided to test him. To see if you truly had that much control over Shao as you thought and everyone else did.

You clicked your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Why don’t you ease up on Reiko?”

“Why do you ask or care about that?”

You closed your book and sat up on the bed. Shao Kahn did not turn to face you as he took every ring off his fingers. “I mean, he’s a great soldier. And he only tried on your crown because he admires you so much. It’d be a shame if all that loyalty would go to waste.”

Amazement wasn’t even the word. Shao Kahn was actually pondering on what you were saying. It took him a minute. “You are right. I will give him one more chance.”

You had done it. You actually convinced Shao to do something and actually not kill someone.

Shao walked back into the bathroom to stop the water. He walked back into the room and removed his crown before placing it back on the dresser.

“We will marry tomorrow night.”

Your eyes widen. You stood up from the bed and walked over to him. “Tomorrow? Isn’t that sudden?”

“I told you it would be soon.”

“Okay but like you didn’t say when so by definition, you telling me this is sudden.”

Shao brushed your comment off and started to unbuckle his pants. “You should join me.”

Last time he had asked you, you were annoyed. Bothered. But this time when he asked, you wanted to.

And god did you hate yourself for wanting to.

“Okay…but you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

Shao stopped in his tracks. He looked at you, a little stunned. He did not actually expect you to take on his offer but he was not complaining in the slightest. “You are asking me to do the impossible, my Empress.”

“Tuh.” You shoved past him a little, going to the bathroom. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll make it possible.”

Shao Kahn chuckled. He had always enjoyed your threats and you couldn’t begin to understand why.

He turned around so he was facing you. By that time you already had your whole evening gown off. You were unclipping your bra.

He watched as your bra fell to the ground. And then you took off your underwear.

This was the first time Shao had seen you naked and he had to admit, it was beautiful sight to see.

You were extremely gorgeous. Everything about you screamed beauty to him. He couldn’t help but get lost in all that was you.

You noticed his staring. You felt yourself get a little shy and you tapped your foot on the ground. “Stop staring at me like that.”

Shao didn’t break his gaze on you. “Like what?”

“Like you enjoy what you’re seeing.”

Shao Kahn broke out of his trance. He took some steps towards you. Very careful steps. The air was thick. It felt like you could cut the tension with a knife.

He made it to you face to face. As much as he wanted to touch you in all the right places, he’d respect what you had said. For now at least.

He lifted your chin up high so your eyes could meet his. “I do enjoy what I’m seeing.”

You hated it. You hated the way the tyrant made you feel. How could he of all people make you feel this way?

Your hands landed on his exposed chest. They rubbed all over slightly before then reaching to the buckle of his pants. You finished unbuckling his pants and when you did, his pants slid down with ease.

No eye contact was broken. You grabbed onto his underwear and slid them down as well. The two of you being completely naked.

“Shall we?” You asked.

Shao stared at you for some time before walking a little bit past you. He got in the tub on the right side, leaning back.

While his bathroom was huge, his tub felt like it was even bigger. Even with you going into the tub there would be a lot of space between you two.

You got in on the left side and sat down before leaning back. “Why do men like cold ass water when they bathe?” You questioned.

Shao gave you a look. “Cold? This is boiling hot.”

“No it is not. My grandma’s frying pan is hotter than this.”

When you said that, it made Shao Kahn laugh. A genuine laugh. You couldn’t help but bust out laughing yourself.

Shao Kahn wanted to appreciate the silence. He really did but he had a few things on his mind. “Why did you join the tournament? And how are you so close to Liu Kang and Kung Lao? You are no monk.”

You gasped sarcastically. “Really? I’m not a monk? Thanks Inspector Gadget.” Shao rolled his eyes playfully but didn’t say anything. You sighed a little. “I was living with my Grandma until I was seven. Someone raided the home and killed her. I lived on the street which felt like decades. Probably about three years. Then I met this one guy. Some thug was messing with him. The guy was a big guy too. Like a big ass guy.” Shao chuckled at the emphasis you put on it.

You tapped your finger on the side of the tub. “Well the big ass guy wasn’t having it. Not at all. He kicked his ass. And when I mean kicked his ass I mean…he really did a number on him. But the guy…this big ass dude didn’t fight him by the usual. Not a gun. Not no punch to the face or kick to the balls. He was…he was using everything. His hands, his feet, his head, everything.”

“So, I went up to him. I was like ‘that was cool! You gotta teach me that!’ He told me that I wasn’t ready. To come to him another time. He tried to walk away but I wouldn’t let him. I was like ‘please. Just tell me how you did that! I need to know! I don’t want to end up like my grandma!’ He turns to me and he goes ‘you really don’t know?’ Told him no. He told me that it was martial arts. But not just any. It was…it was to actually kill someone.”

“Told him my whole story. My parents dipped out on me, grandma died, and he took me in. His name was Master Bo’ Rai Cho.”

At the reveal, Shao Kahn couldn’t believe it. He gave you a look. “That drunken fool?”

“Yup. That’s where I met Liu Kang and then Kung Lao. That’s why we’re so close. I still don’t know why I was chosen to be in the tournament.”

“Because that fool Raiden saw something great.”

You scoffed. “Raiden. Yeah. He’s something.”

The relationship between you and Raiden had always been rocky. You felt like he favored Liu Kang and Kung Lao all the time.

He never believed in you and you’d guess you couldn’t blame him. It was only just now you were in tune with your telekinesis.

“How did you find out about your gift?”

“I was sixteen. I got angry at something. Can’t remember what. But all I saw was…anger and I threw Bo Rai Cho across the room using my mind. They say you usually gain abilities like that through trauma.”

Shao Kahn watched as you went from enjoying telling the story to complete sadness. It stung him a little that your mood could shift so easily.

He grabbed the bottle of soap and placed it on his hands. Then set the bottle down before then grabbing your right foot and rubbing in the soap on your leg. “Gifts such as that are a blessing and a curse.”

You let out a tired sigh. “More so a curse for me.” You played with the soap bottles that were sitting on the ledge. “Everybody has their own thing. Raiden is the God of Thunder. Liu Kang is the chosen one. Kung Lao is the descendant of a great champion. I’m just… me…”

Shao was actually taking in everything you had said. It was starting to make sense to him. As he knew you craved power, he just hadn’t known why.

“You’re going to be The Empress of Outworld. You beat them all in a landslide.”

You couldn’t help but smile at little. Usually you’d argue with him. That you never wanted to do this. That this was all done by force but for some reason now when he said it, it felt right.

Standing up in the water, Shao watched you. He wasn’t expecting for you to go over to his side. You turned your body around and then sat down in the water before leaning your back against his chest.

Shao Kahn was pleasantly surprised but he wouldn’t make that known. He didn’t want you to get up from him. He grabbed the soap bottle and placed some soap in his hands. Then he set the bottle down and began to rub the soap in your back.

You hummed a little at the feeling of his hands on your body. His hands were rough but he made sure to rub softly in your back.

He washed your back with the water until there was no more soap. His hands were clean of soap.

Shao’s hands started to run along your body. Especially at your breasts. He was waiting for you to object but you didn’t.

You moaned at his touches and sat even further back on him. He played with your nipples and cupped your breasts like they belonged to him.

Something came over you. You couldn’t help it. You turned your head around to kiss Shao but he had stopped you.

He placed a finger on your lips. “I want to save that for tomorrow night.”

You were a little shocked. Shao Kahn had more self control then you did.

You turned your head back and allowed Shao Kahn to continue to massage all over your body.

Like you were made for him.

Later on, everyone had disappeared as tomorrow was a busy day.

You didn’t have anything to do. Shao Kahn just told you to show up to the wedding and look pretty.

Bored out your mind with everyone gone, you decided to do some snooping around the palace.

Nothing changed much. You couldn’t find anything that you didn’t see before.

That was until you found a door.

There was something eerie about the door. You couldn’t describe it. Something just told you to open it.

And you opened it.

When opening the door, you walked in further. There were stairs.

You went down the stairs where you could hear cries for help and screams of agony. It disturbed you.

Making it to the very bottom, you saw people were in prison cells. That or they were chained. You were shocked.

Most of the people were monsters or were in mutated form. Besides one.

You walked closer to the woman. She was a black woman with glowing eyes. Her hair was black, straight, and in a bob. Her outfit was completely yellow.

You had wondered what the woman could’ve possibly done for her to end up down here.

She noticed your presence. She immediately stood up from the ground and hurried to you in an instant. She of course was stopped by the cell. “Please! You have to help me! I’ll do anything! I’m good for it! Tell the Kahn that I’m good for it! My name is Tanya.”

You tilted your head at the woman. You were no fool. There was something about her that didn’t seem so innocent.

You leaned against the wall and motioned with your hand for her to talk. “Well, Tanya you might want to convince me as to why I should let you go. It’s kinda creepy down here and I want to bounce.”

“Shao Kahn slaughtered everyone when he raided Edenia. He had only kidnapped a few of us. Now, I am not sure where the rest of my people are. And I don’t care. I just want out of here.”

Tanya pauses as she takes a good look at you. “You are not from Outworld.”

“How’d you figure that one out?”

“You do not talk as if you are from Outworld. Also, everyone in Outworld knows not to come down here. They are afraid of what Shao Kahn might do to them. You must be from Earthrealm.”

“Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!” You said sarcastically. You stopped leaning on the wall and walked closer to her cell. “My name is (Y/N). And I don’t think he’s gonna do much to me. He’s got a soft spot for me.”

Tanya’s eyes widen at this. “An Earthrealmer? I had not predicted Shao Kahn would fall for one.”

“Story of my life. Still haven’t really convinced me as to why I should put myself in jeopardy to release you.”

“I am loyal! I will serve the Kahn of Outworld. Please. You have to convince him.”

You thought about it for a moment. You were going to be with Shao Kahn whether you liked it or not. You mind as well get something out of it.

“You will not.” You told her. “You will serve me. I am to be the Empress of Outworld tomorrow night.”

Tanya could not believe that. “An Earthrealmer being an Empress? Shao Kahn must be love struck.”

“Trust me, I’m banging my head against the wall about it. Know this though, do not underestimate me for being an Earthrealmer. Do not think you can cross me.”

“I would never, Empress.”

You gave her one final look as if to really see if this was worth it. You then shrugged at it. What was the worse Shao could do to you?

“Stand back.”

Tanya listened to your command and walked away from the bars on the cell. You stared at the bars. You concentrated everything with your mind. You then ended up destroying the bars with your mind.

Tanya looked at you in amazement. “I have never seen an Earthrealmer with so much power.”

“I’m a hat full of tricks.” You grabbed Tanya’s hand and helped her out of the cell. “Come on.”

You brought her upstairs. Then made sure to close the door behind you.

When you turned around, you saw Shao Kahn sitting in the dining area with Shang Tsung, Reiko, Skarlet, and Mileena.

You motioned for Tanya to follow you. Shao turned into your direction and when he had seen you with Tanya, his face twisted with confusion and anger.

You spoke before he would get the chance.

“She already pledged her allegiance to me so don’t go out on a villain monologue on why she needed to stay down there. She’ll prove she’s worthy. And if she doesn’t…simply end her. You can’t always scare your way into people following you. You wanted an Earthrealm Empress. This how we deal with things in Earthrealm.”

Shao stayed silent as he heard your explanation. The others awaited to for his anger to combust. For him to get rowdy with you but he did not. He stayed silent.

When Skarlet had seen this, she immediately stood up from her seat. “Emperor, she made a decision without consulting you! She puts this whole empire at risk for the generosity that she shows!”

“Oh?” You questioned her. “Was it not generosity when Shao Kahn took you off the streets and taught you blood magic?” You turned to Mileena. “Was it not generosity for Shao Kahn making Shang Tsung give you life?” You turned to Reiko. “Was it not generosity that saved your ass from death because he had listened to me instead of himself?” You finally turned to look at Shang Tsung. “Was it not generosity for him to give your old ass life and now you don’t look like a dying raisin anymore.”

You turned back to Shao that looked like he was pondering on your words. “Is this not generosity? Taking me in? Treating me like I am your own? Is that not what this is? Call me weak if you want to but you’re the one that wanted a weak woman.”

Shao Kahn stayed silent. Skarlet had seen he was really siding with you. “Emperor I-“

Shao lifted his hand up to stop her from speaking. “You are far from weak, (Y/N).” He put his hand down. “You are going to be the new Empress. You are free to do or make any decisions as you please.”

The tyrant actually supported you? Now everyone had seen everything.

“Join us for dinner.”

Tanya bent down to whisper in your ear. “I am amazed at how much of a soft spot he has for you.”

You snickered a little. “I told you.”

You and Tanya took your seats. When you were sat down, Shao Kahn spoke to Reiko. “Reiko. Thank (Y/N) as without her you would not be alive.”

Reiko turned his attention towards you. “Thank you, Empress.”

You shrugged some while eating. “It’s whatever.”

Everyone heard plates clatter and turned to see Skarlet aggressively slam her fork down and walk away.

Shao Kahn rolled his eyes at her behavior. “She is always a brat.”

You shook your head and continued eating your food, wondering how much longer Skarlet’s behavior towards you would go on.

It was late at night. You and Shao Kahn were getting ready for bed. He was sitting at the edge of the bed rubbing lotion all over his body.

You were at the dresser, taking off your earrings and necklace.

You wanted to fight the feeling you had toward him. Everything in your being was screaming to not fall for the man but you couldn’t help it.

The way he stuck up for you in front of everyone was not only kind of him but was extremely sexy to you.

You felt the wetness between your thighs form. You bit your lip slightly as you tried to push away those thoughts.

“Thank you. For sticking up for me back there.”

Shao didn’t bother to look up to you. “I trust if that Edenian betrays you, she will be dealt with.”

“Of course.”

“Then I don’t care what you do.”

You finished taking all your jewels off and turned to look at him. He was shirtless and had his boxers on while he lotions his body.

You licked your lips. You tried to fight off all of the thoughts that ran through your head.

But you couldn’t. You were only human.

You walked over to Shao Kahn and stood before him. Shao looked up at you and your eyes meet.

You sit on his lap and kiss all over his neck. Shao Kahn groaned in pleasure. He threw the lotion aside and his hands clung on to your back.

Luckily for you, you had were in your night gown. You rode your nightgown up where your underwear was seen.

You placed your clothed clit onto his thigh and began to go back and forth on him. You moaned out in pleasure.

Shao Kahn licked his lips at the sight and held onto your hips as you rode his thigh. He made sure to help you go back and forth at a steady pace.

You moaned loudly. His thigh was perfect for you to ride. It was big and bold. You didn’t have to do much moving for constant pleasure to hit your clit.

“This is what I like to see.” He told you. His right hand slid on your ass and gave it a grip before smacking it. You moaned. “Keep going until you cum all over my thigh. I want you to make a mess on me.”

You held on tightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you focused moving on him up and down. Shao Kahn bounced his thigh slightly so he could meet with your force.

“Oh god, yes.”

Shao Kahn ripped your entire night gown apart and immediately attached his lips on your right breast. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue colliding with your nipple.

You continued moving on him back and forth, closing your eyes in the process. Shao played with your other breast. You clawed at his back and he only groaned in pleasure as a response.

Shao pulled away from your breasts and watched you ride his thigh. Your head was swinging back in pleasure. He brought your chin down and made you look at him in the eyes. “Look at me. I want to watch you fall apart.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes and there Shao Kahn was looking at you, awaiting for you to cum all over his thigh. “It feels so good.” Shao placed his hands on your hips and moved you faster on his thigh. “Oh god. Oh my god.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Please. Oh my god. I’m so close.” You felt your eyes about to close again but you forced them open knowing he would be mad if you closed them.

The two of you looked in each others eyes as you inched closer to your release. “I’m cumming. Oh Shao please let me cum. Please. Please.”

“That’s right. Cum on me, my Empress. Let it all out.”

You continued to hump on his thigh. He bounced his leg a little to meet you halfway. You clawed on his arm. You were about to throw your head back but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Oh yes. Yes. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Shao Kahn helped you ride your orgasm out as you continued to spit out incoherent sentences. He made you finish completely on his thigh.

You took in a deep breath when you were done. “What did I do to deserve such a gift?” He questioned.

You chuckled slightly. “I just felt like it.” He began to kiss your neck softly and you moaned at his touches. “Stop before I make another bad decision.”

“I like your bad decisions.”

You moaned more when he sucked on your sweet spot but he soon pulled away. He laid you down on the bed. Then he reaches over to turn off the lamp.

The room was dark. He grabbed the blanket and placed it over the two of you. “Tomorrow you will be truly mine.”

Even after all this you still didn’t know if marrying him was the best idea.

202 notes · View notes

dokoni-mo · 1 year

Text

Crave: Part Six || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: the eye of the storm

mild NSFW

word count: 4404

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, sir kink, smoking, sensual touching, dirty fantasies, praise, lying, erections, indirect mentions of stalking, dirty fantasies, kissing

minors dni // please read warnings!!

part one // two // three // four // five

a/n: helloooo everyone!! I am back again with another part!! I've gotten a lot of messages asking where this was and here it is!! It's my spring break now, so i have time to feed all of you guys again!! thank you to everyone who was patient with me in the meantime, it means a lot <3 hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for the wait!! enjoy!!

~~~

Even though it was very much out of the way, Mr. Afton's office was still far too noisy for his liking.

When first establishing the diner, he was well aware that the target audience was children first, and then their parents second. And, having had children of his own, William knew that children were noisy. Very noisy. But surely their parents could control them in public spaces, yes? Other kids want to enjoy the animatronics and the music too. And that's hard to do when brat one and brat two are screaming their heads off. So surely the parents would teach them some manners, right?

No. Of course not. He was being too optimistic.

And, over the years, William found that smoking was the only cure to his headaches. They were frequent while at work, and he took frequent long breaks to cure them. The nicotine was the only remedy.

Aside from his bunny, of course. Though you were far more addicting than the nicotine.

William hadn't heard a word from you ever since the incident with Michael on Monday. It was Wednesday now, and he still missed you just as much as he had prior. You remembered your rules, didn't you? Phone him once a week? Don't tell him you forgot already. Each minute that ticked by he could feel the pull of anticipation coming from whatever phone was nearby. Hell, he had barely slept the last few nights because he wanted to be sure he'd get your call. But the lack of sleep was getting to him. He could feel it in the sting of his eyes every time he blinked.

Damn it, bunny. You need to be more attentive with these things.

Running his hand through his brown-grey hair, he breathed out a heavy sigh as he tamped out his third cigarette of the day. His elbows were situated heavy on his expensive, messy desk, leaned forward in his chair. He needed to get a hold of himself. It had only been a few days. You were a good bunny, and of course you were gonna follow the rules. William shouldn't chastise you too much. You had things to do, most likely. Or just wanted to wait to play it safe. He just missed you a lot more than he expected. Especially after all that with Michael.

The brit felt his jaw clench, reaching in his desk drawer for a fresh pack of cigarettes.

Who the fuck did that boy even think he was? He had no right to disturb William's peace like that, sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Your relationship with the older man was none of his damned business. And who was he to even question it to begin with? Question him? Question you? Poor bunny. You were probably so frightened, weren't you? William hoped you weren't scared off too much, enough to where you didn't want to call. Did you think it was best not to anymore? God damn it. Mr. Afton wished he could communicate with you better.

The brit bent his neck down as he pulled open one of his drawers, searching for his lighter.

Fucking Michael. Always ruining shit. William was getting fucking sick and tired of his bullshit, having to be the ring-leader in the fuckery circus. Michael was a damn brat.

He'd fucking pay for this.

After successfully lighting the cigarette, William heard a knock as he put the lighter away. A brief twinge of hope rushed through him as he looked up at his office door. Could it be you, little bunny? Did you not call because you were planning to visit him this whole time? Sweet little one. Always so considerate.

But, then again...

William's excitement vanished as soon as it came up. He gave you the key to his office, and instructed you to let yourself in. This couldn't be you, no.

Damn. Fucking, damn.

Fuck whoever this was. He could go fuck himself.

Clearing his throat, William put on his rehearsed friendly voice as he called out to the mystery person.

"Come in!"

The door clicking open and shut, William was greeted with a pleasant surprise, but not the one he was hoping for.

Henry.

William felt a little bad for thinking Henry should go fuck himself.

Henry was William's best friend. Hell, in a lot of ways, William's only friend. At least the only person that he considered to be a real friend. Aside from his bunny, Henry was the only person William allowed to be at least somewhat of himself around. Of course, the brit was never fully himself, no. He knew if Henry saw the real him, his American friend would want nothing to do with the brit. No, his true self was only reserved for you, little one. Because he just loved you that much. And you loved him just the same. But still, Henry was a close friend to William. They had known each other since William had first stepped foot in the states, all those years ago. William knew everything about Henry, and Henry knew all he needed to know. It was a nice friendship.

Stepping through the door, William noticed right away that Henry was slightly out of breath, sweaty too. Being a heavier-set man, Henry was prone to sweating every now and again, but the slickness in his fiery reddish-blond hair told William that he'd probably just stepped out of the Fredbear costume. Henry's glasses were fogged, but he seemed more preoccupied with catching his breath to care right now.

"Hey, Bill! Sorry to barge in." Henry chuckled to his friend, leaning against the cool surface of the wooden door, "I just had to get away from those kids out there."

William gave the man the most sympathetic smile he could, taking a puff of his cigarette, "Tough crowd, hm?"

Henry chuckled again, shaking his head, "Nah, just really excited to see Fredbear. They missed ol' Bonnie though, you know."

The brit breathed out a hum, "Well Bonnie had to file his restaurant's taxes this afternoon. And someone has to keep this place afloat, no?"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for taking care of that, by the way. I know how much you hate crunching the numbers."

"It's no big deal." William sat back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk, "I'd argue you got the tougher job today out of anyone."

Henry laughed again, one of his signature belly-laughs, "Yeah, yeah, that's fair. How's it going, Bill? How're you?"

William knew that Henry was going to be keen on talking, so that meant not much time for smoking. The brit took one last puff of nicotine before tamping it out.

"Quite well, actually. You?"

"Oh, you know me! Same old, same old. How're the kids doing? I hear Mikey's getting along well in college these days! That's good for him, though. I remember how much he used to struggle. I told him though, he just needed to find his people, find what he's passionate about, yknow?"

William felt his jaw clench. The only thing his son was passionate about was making a mess of things.

"He's doing fine, yeah." William said, "Though he's hardly ever home long enough for me to ask these days. But, I haven't gotten a letter of expulsion. So I assume all is well, yeah?"

Henry laughed, "Definitely! And how 'bout lil' Evan and Liz? Jee, it's been forever since I've seen them two. They grow like weeds at this age, at least Charlie did. Bet they're huge now!"

William let his smile fall a little, "Actually, I haven't seen them much either."

"Oh? Really?"

"Really." William took his feet off his desk and sat forward in his seat, "Clara seems not quite as willing to let them come over these days, it seems. Something about Evan's nightmares popping up again. The robots seemed to frighten him more than I had realized."

Henry crossed his arms, "Ah, jee, Bill. I'm so sorry. I know you gotta miss 'em."

"I do. I know Clara has her reasons, but... Let's just say the house is a lot more quiet with just me and Mike in there, yeah?"

Henry seemed to finally catch his breath and stop sweating now, taking off his fogged glasses. Glancing between the brit and the lenses, the red-head used the end of his t-shirt to wipe the glass.

"Yknow, Bill," Henry began, "It's been about 8 years since you and Clara split. Maybe it's time to, yknow... get back out there. It's not too late, even for old guys like us. I'm sure the kids would understand, too. At least eventually they would."

William felt another smile threaten to creep up on his face. Oh, Henry. You poor soul. The brit appreciated the sentiment, but there wasn't any need to worry about him. At least, not now. Not anymore. William had his precious, adorable little bunny now. And they were everything the older man needed and more. All he'd ever need ever again.

Fuck.

He missed you. He missed you so fucking much.

Henry seemed genuinely worried for William, too. Not that Henry wasn't ever genuine. Aside from his bunny, Henry was the most genuine person William had ever met. Never had a bad word to say to anyone about anything. It allowed William to put some of his trust in Henry, and make him a friend.

The extent of that trust?

Enough to tell Henry about you. Or, at least, tell him a little bit about you. Henry didn't need to know the whole truth.

Just enough for William to stop missing you so much.

"Actually," William began, his smile finally spilling over onto his handsome features, "I have... met someone, you could say."

Henry looked to the brit with shock and amusement, his smile widening as he put his glasses back on, "No way, really?! Bill, that's great! I mean... wow! I didn't even realize you were looking!"

"Thank you. We only started... seeing each other this past weekend. But, I already like them quite a bit. They are... unlike anyone I've ever met before. We click, yeah?"

The American let out an amused chuckle, "Wow, I mean, that's amazing, man! What's their name? Where're the from?"

William knew that he couldn't give Henry your real name. This town was too small. If Henry didn't already know you, he'd find out who you were one way or another. And he wasn't ready for that yet.

"Their name is... Bunny. From... Vegas."

"Vegas, huh? Interesting! What're they like?"

William let out a hum from the back of his throat, picturing your little face in his head, "Everything I could ever want. Or need."

Henry laughed again, "Wow, sounds like you really like 'em!"

"I do. Though they're a busy person. It's... difficult for us to be together all the time. I miss them terribly."

"I can understand that. It was like that with me and the Mrs. for a while there. Especially when setting up this joint." Henry responded as he patted the doorframe for emphasis, "But! Yknow what really helped us back then?"

"Hm?"

"When the dust settled enough, we took a week away! Just her and I, and left Charlie with the grandparents. It really helped us, like, reassure each other that we were our biggest priorities. It's like we fell in love all over again! We still talk about it to this day!"

William felt his lips part as he listened to his friend. A week away, hm? Now that did sound intriguing. The idea of getting away from this shithole town and whisking you away somewhere private did sound nice. Somewhere nice and secluded, so it could just be you and him. No worries looming over your shoulders of being caught, or leaving some sort of trail behind. Somewhere where you didn't have to look over your shoulder, and fully be in the moment. Together.

The brit shifted his grey eyes over to the calendar at the front of his desk. Your fall break was coming up soon. Next week, to be precise. Would that be enough time to plan all of it out? Money wasn't an issue to William, not at all. But he just wondered if him and you could be away for a whole weekend without raising any eyebrows.

But, then again. College students rarely stayed around town that week. Hell, Michael would probably be even spending it a this mother's. That makes things more convenient. William could just say he needs to travel for business. And he could just get you to say that you were spending it away at distant relative's houses.

Yes, that could work.

But where would he take you? There's that national park upstate not too far away. Tucked away in the few woods that Utah had. William remembered taking his family up there once a long time ago, when Michael was still in high school. The only people there were a few other families, as well as the managers of the hotel site. And they wouldn't give a damn about anything that the two of you could possibly get up to, so long as things stay quiet and the checks cleared.

Though, if William gets you all to himself like that... it might be a bit hard to keep you quiet.

He wanted to hear just how loud his little bunny could get.

But, that could sort itself out later.

Henry was a smart man.

When William got back after next week, he'd have to thank him for the wonderful idea.

~~~

"A trip? Together? Will, don't you think that's a bit... risky?"

It wasn't until the sun had started to creep down the horizon the next day that you called. Although his talk with Henry had helped, William still missed you deeply during the time in between. His fantasies of you and the jacket that he stole could only keep him company for so long. He was just grateful that he had been home when you called, and that Michael wasn't there to ruin any more shit.

William didn't expect you to be so apprehensive about his little idea. He assumed that if he was the one that brought up something like that, you'd know that it was safe to do so. William is smart, little one. He's already thought every little detail through. Don't you trust him not to put you in any kind of danger?

He told you that you two would leave on Sunday, it being Thursday now. This would give you time to wrap up anything for school that you had outstanding, if any, and give him enough time to sort things out. The hotel reservation. Lying to everyone that he'd be on a business trip. Making sure that idiot Michael was tucked away at his mother's for the week. Plus, enough time for him to think of what the two of you would do up there, tucked away in the little corner of the woods.

Alone.

Without any prying eyes.

Oh bunny. If only you knew what he was capable of. When things were perfect like that. When things were how they should be.

"It's not risky at all, love." He responded to you, holding the phone up with his shoulder as he circled the number of the Hotel on the newspaper, "We'd be far enough away from town to where no one would recognize us. It's just a tourist destination anyway, bit run down, yeah? There'd be no one we'd know, just perhaps a few other passer-bys."

William could hear how you turned over in your bed from the other end of the phone, perhaps to prop yourself up on your elbows, "But what if someone is there? Like, how're we supposed to explain that?"

"Love, there's not going to be anyone there we know."

"Yeah, but... what if there is?"

William chuckled as he set the newspaper down, re-grabbing the phone from off his shoulder, "You worry far too much, bunny."

"Well I don't think you're worried enough, Will. This could be really dangerous for us..."

"But it won't be, (Y/N). I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought it'd be too dangerous. You know that."

You sighed, "I do, it's just..."

The brit shifted the phone to his other ear as he leaned his back against the wall, "What, love? You can tell me."

"It's just I don't wanna be, like... found out this early on. Like, what if someone really is there? And we can't see each other again because of it? And we'd have to go back home and pretend to be strangers again and it all gets, like, ruined and..."

You trailed off towards the end, but William understood what you were trying to say. Oh, sweet bunny. It's so cute you were so worried. But it wasn't anything to worry about in the first place, and perhaps you knew that deep down. You like to worry yourself silly, don't you, little one? Turns out you were far more paranoid than even William himself. Didn't that wear you out?

You need to calm down, bunny. William would never let anything stand between you and him. He loved you, and he'd fight for you until the bitter end.

"Bunny, listen to me, yeah?" The brit hummed, "Nothing is going to happen out there. I'll make sure nothing could possibly go wrong. And even if something did, it won't be anything for you to fret over, love. I'll take care of everything. I promise."

You fell silent for a few moments, but eventually let out a tiny sigh, the ruffling of your bed covers coming from the background again.

"Finneeeee." You breathed out, "But only if you're sure it'll be okay."

William felt his grin stretch across his handsome face, "I'm certain, little one. Just leave it all the me, yeah?"

"Where even is this place again? I've never heard of it before."

"It's only a few hours north of here. Kind of out in the middle of nowhere, but that just means no one will bother us with our... quality time."

The older man heard how you giggled over the phone, imagining the blush that came up on your cheeks, "Where'd you even hear of this place to begin with? You don't seem like the outdoors-y type. No offense."

"Ah, no, love, I'm not, but I used to take my kids up there every now and again. Back when we all still lived together."

"I see... Will, yknow, if you'd rather spend this week with them, I won't be offen-"

William chuckled again, "No, love, it's quite alright. Michael's too old for that sort of thing now, and the ex-wife is already taking the other two up to her mum's. Besides, I'd much rather be with you, anyway. I miss you, bunny."

"I miss you too, Will."

He let out a pleased hum, "Are you excited, love?"

"I am! I'm gonna start packing in the morning after my midterm."

"If you need any help, bunny, just give me a ring, alright?"

"I will, I will. Oh, and after we get back, just tell me how much everything was and I'll give you back half-"

William laughed again, amused by how cute you were, "Darling, please. There'll be none of that. I've got it all covered, sweet thing."

He heard you sit up in your bed, "Oh my god, no! Will, please, I can't ask you to do all that for m-"

"It's not an issue, bunny. Trust me."

"Still! That's a lot of money, and I can't just-"

The brit chuckled, "You can, love. I've got it all taken care of. Having you with me is payback enough, I promise. This isn't putting me out or anything. Just in this phone call I've made enough money to cover it two times over. Just be a good bunny for me, yeah? Let me spoil my sweet rabbit a bit. Think of this as just a little... honeymoon, of sorts. Alright?"

He could practically hear your blush from the other end, "O-Okay... Thank you, Will. Thank you very much, I... no one's ever been this kind to me before. So thank you."

"It's not a problem, little one. There's no need to thank me. This is just what you get when you're good for me, yeah? Do you understand?"

"I do."

"Good bunny. Though, if you really do want to say thank you, how about a nice kiss when I see you on Sunday, hm? Could you do that for me?"

You breathed out a smile, "Yeah, I can. Yes sir."

William let out another pleased hum, his smirk stretching even further, "Good bunny. It's getting late, little one. You should get some rest. We've got a long week ahead of us."

You ruffled around to where you were lying down again, "Yeah, you're right. Just... thank you again, Will. For everything."

"Of course, love. Anytime. Good luck on your exam tomorrow, yeah? I know you'll do fine. I'll see you Sunday, alright?"

"See ya Sunday, Will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, bunny."

~~~

"Okay, Mike. Next one. The principle of conservation of momentum is a direct consequence of Newton's third law of motion. True or False?"

"Umm... false?"

"Mike! Come on, we learned this in high school!"

Michael groaned at his own cluelessness as you laughed at him for the umpteenth time today. It was Friday morning, much too early and much too cold to be cramming for a physics midterm. Yet, here Michael was.

With you.

The moment he locked eyes with you on campus, Michael had drug you away to your usual shared study-spot. Behind the old welcome center, which gradually had turned into a dumping site for any supplies or equipment the college didn't need anymore, but didn't bother to throw out. The cinder-block building made it much colder than it already was, but it was secluded. It always let the two of you be outside but without anyone threatening the join. You and Michael were a bit awkward. Not much of talkers to outsiders.

You were in your usual spot up on the ledge of the building. It was structured in a way in which part of the corner was cut out from the main walls. Originally intended for some sort of statue or monument, the corner was left empty once people lost interest in any sort of project being placed there. But, it made a nice little human-sized cubby to sit in. Your back was against the cold brick wall, with Michael sitting opposite you with his back on the stone as well. A flurry of old assignments and your books were strewn about in the narrow space between you and him, your legs tangled together in a bit of a mess.

Though you weren't in his physics class, you knew how much Michael struggled with it. Admittedly, he was never much of a math guy. Or any kind of school guy, really. But, you were. Michael knew you were a nerd. Even though you'd never admit it, you were. He'd joke about it to you every now and again, but deep down, admired that about you. You never needed to study much for anything. Or at least, not nearly to the magnitude he needed to.

That's why he didn't feel bad making you help him last-minute cram that morning. He knew you would be fine without studying for your test. Well, it was two birds with one stone, in a way. He both desperately needed the help, and desperately needed to know what was up with you.

He hadn't spoken to you since Monday of that same week, after his father had forced him to call you. Michael felt bad about potentially worrying you then, or even just calling you at such an ungodly hour, but he had decided it was ultimately for the best. He knew his father did some shit to you.

And he had to know what that shit was.

He knew that old man would rather finally croak than spill the beans, so he had to rely on you to give him answers. Seeing as you had most likely lied to him over the phone (not that he blamed you too much, he knew how manipulative the old geezer could be), he'd have to rely on his intuition as best he could. From the cues you gave.

But, that was the problem.

Although you hadn't lied to him before, nor really hid anything from him, turns you were damn good at it.

On Monday, he hadn't been able to pick up anything from you at all. You had greeted him and hung out with him like nothing was wrong. And hell, even now, you still were. You were your same old self. Just perhaps slightly... happier? More energetic?

That should be a good thing. Michael wanted to be happy for you.

But he knew something was up. It wasn't just a coincidence. And he needed to get to the bottom of it.

For you.

"This is all bullshit, anyway!" Michael exclaimed, running his hands though his long, feathered hair, "I didn't care back then about this shit, and I still don't now!"

You dropped the stack of flash-cards down to look at your friend square in his freckled face, "Mike, if you wanna be an engineer, you're gonna have to know Newton's Laws. It's, like, the main thing."

Michael scoffed, but not annoyedly, "Look, all I'm saying is, if they were really that important, I'd already know them."

The young man heard you laugh again, "Maybe if you already knew them you'd not be failing."

"I am not failing! I actually have a C this semester, thank you very much."

"Thaaaaat's nearly failing, Mike."

"Well thank god I've got the best tutor ever then, right?"

Michael felt himself smile to match your own, watching you roll your eyes playfully as you shuffled the flash cards in your hands, "It's just one more test then we're outta here. Then you can diss Newton all you want. But for now, we need to study."

Michael's grey eyes fell to the cards, silence falling over him. Right, fall break. He had forgotten all about it. He was gonna head up to his mom's house, with Liz and Evan.

But, his father...

"Hey," he said, "I never asked you. What're you doing for break?"

You glanced up at your friend at his question, only for your eyes to fall down to your hands again, "Actually, I'm gonna go outta town."

Michael shifted in his seat, "Out of town?"

"Yeah," you responded, "My grandma invited me to her place up state. I'm gonna spend the week with her."

"Where does she live?"

"I don't remember off the top of my head. But somewhere up in the woods."

The woods...

"What're you gonna do?" You asked him, catching the young man a bit off guard.

"Oh," he said, "I'm gonna go spend time with my mum and brother and sister. Probably the whole week."

Michael watched as you smiled at him, searching for any sort of hint behind your eyes, "That sounds fun. Hope you have a good time."

"Yeah... too bad my dad won't be coming."

Michael saw you glance up again at him.

"He won't?"

"Nah. Something about a business trip."

"That's understandable, though. Gotta do what you gotta do. I'm just surprised you'd miss him. It's not like you were ever his biggest fan."

Michael scoffed again, "Yeah. Maybe it's for the best."

"Yeah... maybe."

Silence fell over the two of you again, only broken by the shuffling of paper in your hands and the cool Utah air flooding through the trees in the distance.

Shit. Had Michael fucked it up? Was he being too direct? He never really talked to you too much about his relationship with his dad. At least, not in-depth, and nothing besides the occasional venting session. He'd have to explain every little nuance to you for you to get the whole picture. Of why he felt how he felt abut his old man. And he never wanted to unpack all that onto you. It wasn't fair. It wasn't your job to take care of him.

But, still.

He needed to get to the bottom of this.

"You think so too?" He asked, tearing your gaze away from the flashcards to focus on him.

"I mean," you said, "Things turn out how they do for a reason. Maybe it's just not time for a family reunion yet."

"Yeah, you're right... It's just, I kinda miss how things were before, yknow? When my mum and dad were still together."

"I can understand that. But, ultimately, it happened for a reason. And they probably did it because it just would've been best for you and your siblings. Better than just letting it... sit and brew, right?"

"I guess... So, does your grandma, like, live in a cabin or something? Is she a witch?"

You laughed, "No, no. Not a witch. At least from what I remember. And yeah I think it's a cabin. Or at least kinda like one. She rents it out occasionally, too."

A rentable cabin...

In the woods...

"For, like, tourists?"

"Or just any passers-by."

Michael felt his lips part at your words, a small pit forming in the bottom of his stomach.

The woods. The cabin. Your trip. His dad's trip.

Oh god.

Oh fucking god.

"Umm, Mike?" the young man heard you ask, briefly snapping out of his train of thought, "Are you good?"

Michael looked to you again and threw on his best smile, running a hand through his hair, "Shit, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)! I just remembered I agreed to study with Steven this morning. Sorry, but I gotta run!"

The young man stood up and threw all his things into his backpack quicker than he ever had before. He didn't even care how all his papers were being crumpled, and the bookmarks were flying out of the pages.

You watched him with a somewhat confused expression, "Uhhh, okay? I can come with if you-"

"No, no, it's alright!" Michael exclaimed, almost too quickly, "You've already helped me more than enough, thanks. I just really gotta run."

Once all his stuff was in, Michael threw his bag over his shoulder, not even bothering to zip it up, "I'll see you after break, alright? Have a good week, (Y/N). Enjoy your grandma's."

Michael heard you call out something back to him, but he was already trudged off in the opposite direction. He didn't look back, not even once, his grey eyes fixated to the ground.

They stayed there for a good long while.

Until his legs carried him to the pay phone, his arms searched through his pockets, his fingers put in the quarter, and dialed his mother's number.

~~~

When Sunday rolled around, William had spent a fuck ton of time getting ready that morning. A lot longer than he normally did.

The brit had hardly slept the night before. He was just way too excited about what was to come after the sun had risen. An entire week away. With his precious bunny at his side. Away from this fuckhole town. Away from all the idiots that lived here. Away from his business. Away from his lonely home. Away from Michael. Away from any prying eyes that might threaten to take you away from him.

No. Come that morning, he'd be able to get away from it all. And have you close to him. Where you should always be.

He had laid out his best outfit before settling into bed the previous night. The purple sweater-vest he loved so much, with his black tie, slacks, and dress shoes. all tied together with his light-purple dress shirt underneath, accented with his silver watch and class ring from his university. Staring at himself in the mirror for what felt like hours, he had finally gotten his brown-and-grey hair to fall as perfectly as he wanted. As he would expect for himself when seeing you. You were already perfect for him. The least he could do was be the same for you.

Before William marched out the door to his car, he made sure to give himself an extra spritz of his cologne. Just to be sure that you'd be able to memorize his scent over this week. He planned by the end to either give you a piece of the clothes he had packed for you to keep, or spray his own cologne on your clothes. To give you some sort of unconscious reminder of him. For when the week was over. He was leaning towards the latter, however. Easier to slip in, and more long-lasting.

He'd think about it. He had plenty of time to decide.

The older man had already packed everything he needed long before the weekend ever came. He wanted to make sure that he didn't forget anything. This week needed to go by as perfectly as possible. He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he fucked it up somehow. Sure, yes, you were his good bunny. You'd reassure him with your adorable smile that everything was okay. But it wouldn't be, bunny.

There was no room for fuck-ups this week.

None.

Even though, William was pretty sure he was about to fuck-up at any second right then.

You and him had agreed that he would be he one to drive the two of you to the hotel. More like William decided, but you didn't seem to protest too much. At least not that he could pick up on. But, with that, William knew that he'd have to help you carry your luggage. Over the phone, you didn't say as much. Not in any way that might embarrass yourself.

"It might be a little tough for me to haul my shit down the stairs." You told him over the phone, "So just be patient with me, alright?"

William smiled to himself as he recalled your little voice. Oh, bunny. His silly little bunny. There's no shame in asking William to help you, sweet thing. Wouldn't you like to see a display of his strength? See just how much he can lift without any trouble at all? Why'd you want to see that, bunny? To see how well he could throw you around during you and his playtime?

Naughty bunny. Naughty naughty bunny. Who knew your mind was so filthy?

The brit was waiting outside of your door for you to answer, the sound of the wind breaking between the trees and the gentle rumble of his car's engine filling his rosy ears. He had knocked a few minutes ago, and was trying to be as patient as possible for you to answer. William knew you were awake. If he was careful about it, he could hear you scurrying around your house in a mad dash. It was cute. And he was a patient man.

Normally speaking.

William found it hard to resist the urge to just kick down the door and scoop you up into his arms. He had missed you so fucking much in the days leading up to today. His heart ached for you. His body ached for you. Just like before, he could already feel himself starting to harden inside his trousers. Just in the excitement and anticipation of seeing you again. The heat on his cheeks was creeping down his neck, making him shudder in the cold morning air.

Fucking hell. He was glad he picked out black to wear again today. Any other color, and you would've noticed his hard-on. As much as he loved playing with his bunny, he wanted to just be sweet and loving with you today. Hold you close. Kiss those adorable cheeks. Fuck. He just wanted you near him; needed you near him. Your warmth against his was so addicting. He had gone far too long without it. The jacket he stole from you was fine, but it wasn't the same. It couldn't replicate the feeling of your chest against his. The feeling of your plush thighs overtop his own. The way your little fingers ran through his hair, and down his scars... Fuck, bunny. Fucking hell. How we wanted you to touch him again. How we wanted to touch you again. Your skin was so smooth and soft. The way his long, calloused fingers could just slide across your belly and thighs like it was nothing. The dip of your waist own to your hips, and how his hands fit so perfectly there. God fucking damn. And your cute little butt; god above how he loved it. How he could just-

Before William could fantasize any more, the door keeping him from you finally clicked open, ripping his gaze away from the trees in the distance. The older man felt his lips gently part, finally being able to drink in the sight of you again. After so long.

Even though you were awake, it looked like you hadn't been for too long. For one, you were still in your pajamas. And you hadn't even seemed to comb your hair yet. Or, if you had, whatever you were doing made it unkept again. you were smiling at him, but your adorable little eyes were still tired. He could see the faint dark circles that lingered under them, coupled with the sheen of redness from within.

He was really happy he wore black trousers that day.

"Morning, Will!" you said, your sleepiness still in your voice, "Sorry to keep you waiting, just gimme-"

Before you could finish your sentiment, William pushed himself through the door and slammed it shut behind him. You had taken a few steps back from his sudden barging-in, but he was quick to close the distance between the two of you, the surprise of it all lighting up your sleepy eyes. Snaking one of his arms around your middle, his other hand landing on your cheek, William closed the rest of the distance between you and him, capturing your sweet, soft lips into a kiss. You had let out a tiny hum of protest from his sudden movements, but quickly stopped as you eased in, reciprocating the older man's affections. As the kiss deepened, William gently was able to turn the two of you around, backing you up against the door with your shoulder blades flush against the wood.

Your hands eventually found their home on his shoulders, allowing himself to press further against you. He wasn't too sure if you could feel the hardness in his pants against your thigh or not, but he didn't fucking care. All that mattered was that you were here. You were in his arms again, after so fucking long. You hadn't gotten much better at kissing since the last time he saw you, but he didn't fucking care about that either. All that mattered was that they were your kisses. And it was him that got to kiss you.

Did you understand that, bunny?

Only he was allowed to kiss you.

Him.

And only him.

Because you were his sweet, adorable, sexy baby bunny.

You eventually had to pull away for air, but that didn't stop William's barrage of affection onto you. With no more access to your lips, the brit turned his attention to your neck, tilting his head down towards the soft flesh. He could feel how you gripped onto him tighter as he gave you quick, demanding little bites against the side of your windpipe, sucking on the skin every now and again. It wasn't until his hands started to wander under your shirt that you said anything.

"Will!" You exclaimed, a slight giggle in your voice, "Please! I missed you too, but calm down!"

The brit let out a hum against your neck, moving his hand back to your waist as he gave your collarbones a few more kisses, "I'm sorry, bunny. I just missed you... I missed you a lot."

You giggled again at him, "It's okay, I missed you too. I'm just really tired. I didn't sleep too well last night."

Tilting his head back up, William gave you a kiss to your blushy cheek before locking eyes with you again, brushing the hair away from your face.

"No?" He asked, admiring his precious bunny's adorable features. You were even cuter than the last time he saw you.

"Yeah, I was too excited. And I kept feeling like... I dunno. Like I was gonna forget something."

"I understand, love. I was in the same boat myself." He leaned down to you, pressing a quick peck against your lips, "You can sleep on the car ride if you want to, bunny. I won't mind."

"It's alright. I'm used to staying up anyway, but... thanks again, Will. For all of this. I just... No one's ever done something like this for me before. It's a little hard to believe this is, like, real."

The older man chuckled, giving you another quick kiss, "There's really no need to thank me, darling. I've already gotten all the thanks I need."

Breathing out another smile, you stood on your tip-toes to press one last kiss against his lips.

"I hate to ask you this, but..." you said, "I can't lift my suitcase enough to get it downstairs. Can you help me? Please?"

William smiled. You were just too cute.

"Of course, bunny."

"Thank you. Come on, it's upstairs in my room."

Even though he was reluctant to do so, William let you go out of his grasp, immediately feeling a lot colder without you close to him. Following behind you, he could already see how the fresh hickies he had given you were starting to form. Three bright red spots now lined the right side of your neck, marking you as his.

William couldn't help but smirk to himself.

Your house was smaller than William's was, and much more empty too. You had told him before that it was largely only you that lived there now. Your parents lived there too, but only when they were around. Which was next to never, their line of work having them over-seas a majority of the time. Even still, the house was a bit of a mess for only having one person living in it. Granted, it's not like you had to clean up if you didn't want to. You weren't trying to keep a tidy home for everyone else. While William was definitely more of a tidy person, he understood the mess. And, admittedly, found it a little comforting.

It was your mess, after all.

This feeling of comfort only magnified itself the closer you lead him to your room. The mess gradually got messier as he neared the door, and the items strewn about became progressively more personal to you. Papers turned to books. Books turned to albums. Albums turned to clothes. Clothes turned into your more... personal clothes.

Fucking Christ.

William wanted to steal some of those too.

But eventually, all of the different items eventually amalgamated into your room. Both you and him had to step over a few piles of things to get past the door, but he was the first to stop. He was positioned just a foot or so past your bedroom door, while you scurried off more towards the back of it all.

"Sorry about all the mess," you said over your shoulder, "I meant to clean up before you came, but... I slept through my alarm."

William looked down to his feet at your words, kicking over a pile of your clothes gently to investigate its contents, "It's alright, love. I've seen much worse."

"Just wait there for a sec. I need to pack a few more things first."

William took this as a cue to further his investigation into your room. Honestly, it wasn't quite what he expected. Although, he had never really given any thought into how it might've looked. But regardless, he found himself quite fond of it.

Because it was just so... you.

It had all your favorite things in it. The posters on the wall of your favorite bands. The pictures of you and your family. A few art pieces that seemed just a bit aged. All the little trinkets and knick-knacks that lined shelves full of books you liked. The clothes you liked strewn about the ground. Album covers. Old movie ticket stubs. Your schoolwork. Your sheets. Your stuffed animals. Your scent.

It was like William had stepped inside of your mind.

And he fucking loved it.

Why didn't he think of this sooner? Coming into your room? He would've been able to learn so much more about you so much quicker than he had. Instead of pestering his dumbass son, he could've just come here all along. Oh god. Oh fucking god. This was all too much. He was surrounded by you. Everywhere he looked was something to remind him of you, because everything was you. Fucking hell. It smelled just like you too. And your bed. Your fucking bed. Just inches away from him, the place where you slept at night whilst away from him. The very thing that housed all your dreams, your phone calls, your tears, your study sessions, your pleasure. Did you think of him in there, bunny? How many times has his name echoed off of those walls? How many times have you imagined him there with you? Did you picture him slipping on top of you in that bed? Did you fantasize about his hands roaming up and down your body there? Did you? Was it his lips you imagined on your flesh? His voice you wanted to whisper in your ear?

Oh it was bunny. He knew it was. Just like he had done for you, in his own bed.

William was grateful to hear your voice again from the other side of the room. He was worried he might have another accident if he hadn't been stopped.

"Like what you see?" You asked him, shoving a few last-minute things into your suitcase.

The brit cleared his throat before responding to you, "I do actually, yes."

He hard you scoff playfully, "You don't have to humor me, Will. I know you're a neat-freak."

"No, no, I do like it, bunny." He reassured you, "It's very... you."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing, of course."

You chuckled, "Well I guess it makes sense. I've had the same room since the day I was born."

William felt one of his brows raise, "You've never moved?"

"Nah. This house has been in the family since, like, the 20s or something. I've never been outside of Hurricane, actually."

The older man felt his bewilderment grow, "Never?"

"Never ever. Other than a Disney trip when I was a baby, but I don't remember anything from it so it doesn't count. This trip will be my first time out of the city."

"Is that so... Well, I'm honored to be your first, bunny."

You chuckled again, "You're a lot of my firsts, Will."

William smiled to himself. Indeed he was, little bunny. Just like how it should be. You'd never need another man in your life, anyway. Not anymore, not after being his now. Isn't that all you'd ever want?

This trip was going to be good for you. He knew it would.

"Well I'm honored to be all of them."

~~~

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Oh, hey, sugar. What's up?"

"I have an update. On what's going on."

"Already? That's good, I just didn't expect somethin' so soon. Especially with him."

"Yeah, me neither, but... I think it might be worse than we thought."

"Worse how, baby?"

"Do you remember that old hotel place up state? We used to vacation to, like, before?"

"Oh God, don't tell me..."

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure they're heading there this weekend."

"I understand. I can get there before them if I leave tonight. Will you be here by then? To watch the kiddos?"

"Yeah, I will. What do you want me to tell them?"

"Just say I'm visiting their Auntie for a day or two and you're gonna watch them. I'll leave some money out on the counter for pizza, and there'll be some leftovers in the fridge. Just keep an extra eye on your brother, pumpkin. Poor thing's been having bad dreams again."

"Does he know?"

"No, I haven't told either of them. Probably won't, if I'm bein' honest."

"That's probably for the best. Just wait until they're older. I can't imagine trying to explain it to them now."

"They still love him, baby. It's better not to break their little hearts all over again."

"I know, I know, just... I wish they could know the truth. I feel like I'm lying to them."

"You're not, sugar. You're just protectin' them. They're just kids, pumpkin pie. Let 'em believe their daddy is a good man just a little bit longer."

"But he isn't. That's the thing. He's already fucked us up, now he's fucking my best friend up."

"I know, sweetie, I know. But we'll get it all fixed up, I promise you. Save 'em before it's too late 'n all."

"Yeah... yeah, you're right, I just... I'm sorry. I'm just worried."

"I know you are, I am too. But worryin' isn't gonna solve anythin'. Not right now. I'll be up there before sunrise tomorrow. I'll take care of it, sugar. Just try and enjoy your break in the meantime."

"Are you going to need any help? I can bring Liz and Ev up to Grandma's for a little."

"I don't think so. The restrainin' order should scare him off enough, but I'm gonna wait until I can get your little friend alone just to be sure."

"Okay... only if you're sure."

"Positive, baby. Don't you be worryin' about me, now. This ain't my first rodeo with him."

"Heh, yeah... You're right. As usual."

"Should I mention you when the time comes?"

"If you want. (Y/N)'s gonna figure it out quickly, anyway, so..."

"Okay."

"Thank you again. For all of this, I... I don't know what I'd do without you. I can't win against him."

"It's no trouble at all, sugar. Anything to keep it from happenin' again."

"Yeah..."

"Good luck on your test, baby. I gotta go start packin' now, okay? I love you, Mikey. Everything's gonna be fine."

"I love you too, mum. Thanks."

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @lalyaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo @reapersimps @wawuwe @lovinglenore @zoey5252

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!! also if i forgot to add you please let me know!!

#william afton x you #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton #dave miller x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut

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thetrashbinseries · 4 months

Text

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

#bang chan #bangchan x reader #chan x reader #chan x you #bangchan smut #chan smut #skz fic #stray kids fic #kpop smut #chan x y/n #chris bang #skz smut #jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fanfic #idol fic #crossover

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perryavenue · 6 months

Text

rainjoy Has A New Post. It's Personal

rainjoy is one of my favorite Klaine fanfic authors. Their first Klaine fanfic was published on LiveJournal in 2011, their last in 2021. Health issues have become more intense over time. Their most famous works, All The Other Ghosts and Grey, were published in 2012 and 2013. So those who've joined the fandom fairly recently may not even know about their other fics, the most recent one being from 2021. rainjoy has written Klaine in every genre: high school!Klaine, college!Klaine, married!Klaine, supernatural!Klaine, fantasy!Klaine, and even superhero!Klaine.

Here is a link to rainjoy's works on Live Journal

Here's a link for Dreamwidth

I hope that you'll help boost it by re-blogging. Thanks in advance, @klaineccfanficlibrary and @todaydreambelieversfic

This is rainjoy's post from today (October 27, 2023).

"Hello, I’m still alive.

Hello, I do mean it, hello anybody around to see this, I really hope you’ve been well, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I *haven’t* been well. But I have, over a course of fucking months, actually written something, so I’m writing *this* here so I don’t need to leave a novel-length author’s note on it, as some kind of explanation of where I’ve been.

Largely, I’ve been in bed, I’m likely going there again after posting this, they need to invent new words for how tired I am so much of the time, my upgraded wheelchair is worth about as much as my *laptop*, my life revolves around Can I? Probably not. and lots and lots and lots of ‘resting’. I’ve not been well, but please don’t worry, I’ve not been unhappy. This is the golden age of being ill, the sheer quantity of stuff out there to amuse the bedbound – I have books and podcasts, all of Netflix, I practically live on Sky: Children of the Light, when I’m too dopey even for that I have Animal Crossing, when I am genuinely such a puddle of not-human lethargy that all I need is for time to pass until I feel just slightly better again I have videos of other people playing video games on YouTube and I’m sorry my darling baby moths I will pick you up and help you every single time but it will never not be funny watching someone go through Eden for the first time on YouTube, it just never will not make me laugh, oh my gods I’m so *sorry* my loves <3

So anyway, there’s all that, that’s where I’ve been, life really does not work out the way you planned it to, huh? Because outside of my bed, I know I have messages and emails and someone got a tattoo?? You got a tattoo and I’m just really sorry I haven’t been in touch, my energy has to be paid out like a miser, if I want to wash my hair then wow the world is really not getting anything else out of me, you know? But I am still here, and I do still love the things I love. I still think all of it is worth it. I think the world is a *lot* of fun, though I bear in mind that still, and always, we live through very frightening and distressing times. Which actually makes me think we need to cling to the things we love *more*, not less, love makes better people of us, when we let it.

So I did watch the new season of Good Omens when it came out, and safe to say I was not impressed, but it did jog in me the memory that didn’t I write a sequel to it? Yes I did, and it involved *all* that blood. But I reread it – it’s like reading a stranger’s writing after so long – and that jogged the memory: Didn’t you start a sequel to *this*?

Yes I did! Two thirds written, actually, hurrah for my past self. The last third took, I don’t know, when did the new season come out, it took that long. I used to sneeze out this sort of thing. This, now, is getting at my arms, it’ll be another lie down soon. But anyway, the point of all this: I live yet. In the next few days I *hope* I will be formatting and posting a sequel to But Thou Readst Black because of course everyone wants *that* back in their heads again, my gods. And I hope hope hope you’ve been well, I do think of people while I’m stuck doing nothing but pooling my brain out of my ears on YouTube. Look after yourselves, take care of each other, my gods you tattooed yourself I mean more power to you but it alarms me when things I make turn out to be *permanent*, you know? It feels like I barely touch the world anymore, my circumference has become so small, but it makes the world seem only more precious. Take good care of it, and of yourself as part of it. And very, very much love, to anyone remaining to see this, much love <3"

#rainjoy #klaine fanfic #rainjoys writing

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t3ag3rs · 1 month

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g e n s o - 0 5.

"the thirds ones wrong.. it should be will not well.."

you sighed out answering present mics question. "thats correct!" he continued to ramble on about grammar and english.

you put your head down and closed your eyes wishing class would go by faster.

then the bell rang, dismissing you all to go to lunch.

"y/n! come sit with us!" said mina, pulling your arm. you laughed and walked along with her, kirishima, and two other boys. "sup beautiful im denki kamanari and thats hanta sero, nice to finally meet you" said the yellow haired boy grinning.

you waved, "nice to meet you two as well!" kirishima groaned, "im so hungry..! i cant wait to some of the yummy food!" sero laughed as he patted his stomach, "hes like a baby!"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you sat down between mina and kirishima, chatting with them as they ate. god im so hungry.... but i cant risk gaining any fat right now... im at the healthiest ive been.. i cant gain anything!

you looked down at your fingers and fiddled with them. "hey y/n, why arent you eating anything?" asked kirishima curiously, you looked at him and quickly blurted an excuse, "o-oh! i had a heavy breakfast right before i left so im still stuffed!" you chuckled to deflect any second thoughts from them.

mina nodded, "ohhhh i get that.. well make sure to eat at home kay?" you nod smiling at her, of course i will..

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

finally it was time for the class you were waiting for. "i am here!! coming through the door like a hero!" announced all might as he made a dramatic entrance into the class. you couldnt help but let out a wide smile at him.

the whole class started talking amongst themselves at how they were amazed he was teaching them. you knew bakugou was jumping inside at the sight of his favorite hero, but didnt wanna seem like he was a fanboy.

"today we will be focused on battle!" you looked to see bakugou grinning, "but in order to do that you guys have to look good!" suddenly boxes of all of your hero costumes came out of the wall.

oh my gosh is that really my coustume??? you thought excitedly, smiling widely. "change and meet me at training ground beta!" all might instructed.

you went into the girls locker room and started changing, "i cant wait to see how my costume looks on me!" exclaimed mina, as she put on her costume. you laugh in agreement and start putting on yours.

"ill see you out there y/n! dont take to long!" she said as she ran out giddily. you finish putting on your costume and look at yourself in the mirror, you smiled as you saw how it accentuated your muscle and curves well, before running out to the rest of the students.

you walked out while smiling, "OH MT GOD Y/N YOU JUST RAISED THE HEAT OVER HERE! YOU LOOK SO HOT!" screamed mina, getting everyone's attention. you blush and thank her for the compliment while adjusting the thigh harnesses.

you look over to see bakugou in his hero costume and take notice of how much his body had changed. he had definitely grown more muscular and even though you wouldnt admit it, he looked good.

you held your breath as you made eye contact with him. he widened his eyes a bit before looking the other way. "honestly though.. your costume looks so good!" mina praised, " o-oh! thanks..! honestly it isnt really something i usually wear.. the skin tight crop top, and i always usually try to stay away from pants that are somewhat tight around my thighs and butt.. "

"no way! they show off the body you got blessed with! besides the cargos accentuate your muscular thighs! i think your whole costume looks good on you!" she smiles, you blush and bow your head thanking her.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you listened closely as all might explained what you all would be doing today. you felt someone glaring at you and turned to look at them, only to meet a pair of vermillion eyes. you narrowed your eyes and stared back until he turned away, haha! i win asswipe!

you walked up to all might to draw your lot and see who you got paired with. letting out a low curse your paper read 'katsuki bakugou'. god you must really hate me huh..? out of all the people here this guy??

sulking internally you walked toward bakugou and stood by him silently. "all right lets see who the villian and hero will be!" all might reached into the box and pulled out your team and dekus team. "just great.." you mutter realizing you and bakugou were the villians and had to go up against deku. knowing bakugou he would target deku to try and beat him up.

you and bakugou started heading on inside, "young y/n, young bakugou the key to this exercise is to embody villainy- think like how they would and act upon it, make sure to communicate and work together." you nod, youll only be able to communicate if someone doesnt target deku.

you follow behind bakugou into the room with the fake weapon. you walk toward it and look around to check your surroundings "hey." you turn and look at bakugou, "do you really think deku has a quirk..?" you bite your lip, "well.. we both saw what he did during the physical tests, so yes i do think he has a quirk" you respond looking at bakugou.

you noticed him tense up, "look.. just because he has a quirk now dont go targeting him whenever you can, we both have to communicate if you wanna win this- which im sure you do. so please just try and calm your temper okay?" you add, he stands still and you sigh. "whatever.. its not like youll listen anyways... ill guard the weapon, knowing them uraraka will probably try and come up here, once i deal with her ill help you with izuku"

"all right! lets begin the indoor combat training!" says all might over the loud speaker, "be careful" you tell bakugou before he walks away. you purse your lips knowing he wouldnt hold back on deku, but right now you had to worry about uraraka.

you smirk as you come up with a plan and go to hide behind a pillar near the entrance. suddenly, you hear a huge explosion, "here we go again.."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"bakugou take it easy on the explosions.. i dont think this building can handle too many" you say through the ear piece, "shut up and defend the weapon genso!" he replies. you roll your eyes, this bitch...

you suddenly hear footsteps and ready yourself quietly, "theres the weapon! wait... wheres y/n..?" she says as she steps through apprehensively. you smirk and let your wind propel yourself forward, manipulating the earth under uraraka you made it wrap around her body, making sure to bound her arms down knowing if she touched you she could make you float. "right here!" you say as you wrap your tape around her, successfully capturing her.

she looked at you with a blank look still processing what just happened, "wait what??" she says questioningly, "sorry to get you out so early, but i really dont trust leaving bakugou with izu" you say before hearing another couple of explosions.

"bakugou! where are you?" you ask through the earpiece only to get no reply, just great..! no reply from the asswipe!

you run out and touch the floor closing your eyes, you saw the floorplan of the building in your mind letting the earth draw it out for you. you felt a huge surge of motion coming from a specific side of the building and ran to the location as quick as you could.

suddenly all might came over the speaker again, "use that power again bakugou and ill disqualify your team! you need to be aware of your surroundings and strive to make the least amount of damage to it as possible!"

oh my god theyre gonna kill each other...! you closed your eyes and pushed your legs faster trying to get there quicker. you heard another couple of explosions and widened your eyes.

you werent gonna make it in time.

stopping, you placed your hand on the ground again and found where they were in your mind. deciding to test your quirk, you focused on the spot and found the wall closest to the area. maybe.. just maybe.. i can manipulate the earth and get myself there by moving through the walls..

you focused all your power on the walls and let yourself fall into the earth, the next thing you knew you were in the same room as the two. they were standing in front of each other, izuku was screaming at bakugou and your gut told you to move in between the two. the next thing you knew your feet were moving, and you were hit by both their quirks.

you let out a loud yelp of pain and fell to the ground. you heard another thump and saw izuku fall to the ground, wincing you crawled your way to him and wrapped the capture tape around him before you passed out.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you blinked your eyes as you familiarized yourself with light and winced as you tried to move. "there, there, take it easy... your bodys pretty beaten up... taking those two powerful blows wasnt very smart of you to do.." explained recovery girl, you let out a sheepish smile, "i couldnt just stand there and let them kill each other.. ive known both since childhood and bakugou isnt one to hold back when it comes to izuku.." you explained.

"hows izuku..?" you ask curiously, "hes already back in class, i still need to heal a couple other of his injuries but he has no energy in his body left for today.." you nod, "can i go back go class..?" she nods, "yes, but make sure you come back tomorrow.. i bandaged the blow on your stomach, but it still needs a bit of healing.. keep the cast on your arm on till tomorrow" she explains before letting you go.

you limp slightly as you walk back to class, gosh itll be so embarrassing walking into the class knowing they saw me pass out- yet again..

opening the door you walked into the class, only to be bombarded by kirishima, mina, and a couple of other students. "oh my gosh y/n you were so kick-ass!" exclaimed mina as she threw her hands around you, "be careful mina! shes still a bit injured!" reminded kirishima, you smiled before waving it off, "im fine.. im just glad everyones okay..!" "that move you pulled where you moved yourself through the earth was awesome!" praised uraraka.

"wait.. wheres izu..?" you question as you couldnt find him in the room, "hes talking to bakugou.." sighs out uraraka, you widen your eyes and run to find the two outside.

gasping for air your finally reach the two, "thank goodness i found you izu..!" you say tiredly, "my gosh y/n... are you okay?" you smile before nodding, "im fine, nothing too major..! im glad your fine though..!" you pause and turn to bakugou, "look bakugou.. as much as i understand your frustrated, you had no right to try and kill izuku in a practice match!" you sighed as you looked down.

"we used to be good friends.. just because of certain values we had we stop being friends.. whatever happens this year- i promise you two this, im not sticking up for either of you. you guys can either die fighting each other because of your massive egos, or learn how to grow up and act like mature people." you grit before turning and limping away.

you knew in your heart that you still valued the friendship you had with them, but you werent going to let bakugou continue and treat deku like shit just to fulfill his ego.

previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 next parts: pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 / pt. 09 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12

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hanniejji · 2 years

Text

brave the storm

[big brother!kazuha x child!reader]

summary: leaving his only family behind is out of the question.

note: leaving this here before i go and disappear for a few months again lmao, also kazuha rerun when damn it + reposting because it didn't show up in the tags hmp | m.list

words: 1200| warnings: no proofreading i am tired asf and it’s 4 am

kazuha finds himself in the biggest dilemma of his life, even bigger than the fall of the kaedehara clan.

there’s nothing left for him anymore. not his family name and possessions, not his belongings, not his own best friend who died under the verdict of the vision hunt decree, and not his home. nor does he have the ability to get all of these back. but he would be damned if he let them take the only person left in his life. his younger sibling, you.

“brother, where are we going?” you had asked when he suddenly busted through the door of the abandoned cabin that he left you in while he went out to search for his friend, unaware of the events that occurred a few hours ago at tenshukaku. his face was pale, eyes dilated in fear and holding his right hand close to his chest, clutched tightly on what supposedly looked like a circular shape of something. he wordlessly took you in his arms, holding your small body against him securely, breathing out exhales of relief.

“thank the sevens, you’re safe,” he sobbed against your shoulder—the vivid imagery of the tenryou commission soldiers reaching you before he does still fresh in his mind, “i’m here now, little one, we’ll be safe. i’ll keep us safe.”

you didn’t question his behavior that day, merely letting him take you away from the nth place that you took shelter in after leaving the kaedahara clan estate. this wasn’t the first time he acted like someone’s or something’s going to separate the two of you, so you assumed it was one of his episodes.

that was a few weeks ago. kazuha thought that as long as the two of you are together, it’d be fine. nothing can be worse than losing you.

he was wrong.

nothing’s more painful than watching you follow him around in the wilderness, exposed to the dangers of this cruel world, vulnerable and easily wounded from the smallest of things, and most of all, with no proper shelter and care that a child should get.

“forgive me, my maple leaf,” he spoke in whispers, gently holding your warm hands in his, hoping that your fever would somehow cool down miraculously. he had ripped a part of his sleeves to place on your forehead, cool with the rain water to try and lower your temperature. but with the horrible weather of rainstorms, he’s unsure if that’s the right action to take. your breathing has been too shallow way too long for his comfort. unlike him, your body is frail, vulnerable and weak against the natural forces of nature. it’s been two days since you fell ill, putting your travels to a stop at a small cave. since then, your temperature hasn’t dropped at all. without proper medication and shelter, he couldn’t provide you anything that you need, not even food.

“my head hurts,” your whimpers does nothing but strike pain in his heart.

“don’t worry, maple, you’ll be fine soon, mkay?”

he says this to reassure himself. he doesn’t know what will happen to you in the next couple of days. his emotions are going haywire. the fear of losing you surround his very being with dread. but he steels himself to smile, squeezing your hand firmly to put up a strong front.

and so it goes. on the third day of your feverish state, the storm ceased. he took this opportunity to trek the wilderness in search of anything that resembles hope, making sure to walk at a steady pace as to not juggle you in his arms. staying in that cave would do you no good.

on the fourth day, he found his saving grace.

“the kamisato estate,” he sighed in relief, smiling tiredly when the shirasagi himegimi of the clan caught sight of him, hearing her alarmed call of his name and her frantic footsteps as fell to his knees from fatigue.

but his arms were like iron, unwavering and holding you close to him.

he blacked out for a whole day after that, only to be jolted awake from his slumber at the sound of your cries. running past the unfamiliar hallways to follow your voice, he came upon the room you were in. ignoring the presence of the two kamisato siblings, he took you in his arms and gently hushed you back to sleep.

“calm down, my maple leaf, i’m right here,” he repeatedly coos in your ear.

it was by the time that you were deep in your sleep that ayaka sheepishly admitted that they were trying to coax you to rest, as you were insisting that you cannot and will not stay away from your brother.

“i am displeased to know that the young kaedahara does not remember me,” ayato had dramatically sulked, “i was one of the first to see them when your mother had given birth.”

“brother, i’m sure it was because of the fever,” ayaka tried to reassure him, while kazuha could only look at the two with a grateful smile.

it was then that he realized that leaving you in the hands of the kamisato clan will give you more chances of a better lifestyle. one that does not include having to wait in the middle of nowhere for him to come back with food. one where you can have a fluffy bed as you sleep. one where you do not need to run with your fugitive brother. a life with a family that can provide you everything you’d ever want.

just imagining you living that kind of life brings tears to his eyes.

he had attempted to do so. to just abruptly leave you as you rest in the kamisato estate without saying goodbye. to kiss your forehead one last time and jump out of the window. to be selfless and give you the life you deserve.

one night, he was about to do so.

“my little maple leaf,” he turned to close the door of his temporary room, shutting his eyes to prevent them from glossing over with tears, “i hope that you find it in your heart to forgive me.”

he turned on his heels, walking towards the open window in the hallways, ready to jump out until he heard your cries from afar.

“kazuha.”

he froze in his spot, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

“save me.”

he lowers his head, listening to your cries from a nightmare.

the next thing he knew, his feet had taken him to your door, sliding it open and approaching the futon in the middle, falling to his knees with a thud.

“i—,” he inhales sharply, “i can’t do it. i can’t leave you—i can’t lose you too.”

his sobs fill the silent room, taking your hand in his. this seemed to quell the nightmares in your sleep, your small fingers weakly holding onto his. he watched on with soft glossy eyes, reaching over to place a kiss on your forehead, now void of the alarming warmth it once had.

“who am i fooling?” he chuckled, “i’d face the wrath of the musou no hitotachi and the sevens than leave you behind, my little maple leaf.”

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haee-elia · 1 year

Text

1x03 - won’t get fooled again

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (2nd POV)

summary: in which a young woman visiting her brother in prison gets help from two agents, one being a very handsome Dr. Spencer Reid

warnings: mentions of prison, embezzlement, cancer, criminals, death, bombs, palliative care, terminal illness, estrangement (?), and no-contact with family

word count: 3132 (HOW???)

a/n: i’ve been writing so frequently that i actually am almost behind with watching the criminal minds episodes. as of writing for the third episode, i am halfway through ep 4 and really need to start watching to get ideas and all much more than i have been. im so happy to see all the love on the first two one shots and welcome engagement!

for those who might have missed the first two, here’s the masterlist for season one!

and here’s the premise of what i’m doing

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, exasperated, looking at the prison guard standing behind the window. He looked at you, no expression on his face and sighed.

“Sorry, miss,” He replied. You scoff on the inside, there was no tone that indicated this guy, Jacob from his name tag, was sympathetic at all. Especially after the 10 minute speech you just gave this man. You’re sure that he’s heard plenty of those working for a prison system, but it really was unfair in your opinion.

“I called ahead this entire month to make sure I could come today. I even called this morning and no one told me that visitors wouldn’t be allowed today.” You reiterated.

“Sorry, miss, there’s nothing I can do.” He echoed again.

You feel a presence walking up behind you, but you ignore for now and carry on, “Just, is there someone I can talk to? Can you give me a reason?”

“You need to come back next week, miss,”

You sigh and resist the urge to rub your fingers at your temple to prevent the quickly oncoming headache, “I can’t come back next week, I don’t live here. I just need five minutes tops with my brother. That’s it. I don’t care if there’s a thousand guards in the room or if we’re both wearing straight jackets, I just need to talk to my brother.”

“Whatever you need to tell your brother can wait.”

You close your eyes in frustration and run your fingers through your hair, “Our mother has cancer! It’s stage four and it’s terminal and I wanted to give him the privilege of telling him in person!”

“I can’t do anything, miss, now you need to leave.”

You can feel tears brimming, not in sadness, just in frustration. Your flight and trip that you had carefully planned over the past month in order to inform your brother about your mom had gone chaotic. First, your flight had been canceled and you instead took a red-eye flight in order to still make it here to tell your brother. In the past month in which you had planned to make your way down here, your mother’s condition had worsened and you desperately needed to get back to care for her. Plus, your job was expecting you back and you already took off the maximum amount of time you could, using sick days and vacation to still get paid.

“Excuse you,” you hear a voice behind you. You turn your head to see two men standing behind you, your cheeks redden a bit when you realize they just heard your entire sob story.

The first man was an older gentleman, slightly reminded you of your father with his greenish-blue shirt slouched on his body and his gray pants with deep pockets. His eyes noted some sort of twinkle in them, a youthful playfulness almost.

The second man was standing right off to the side of the first and he was more around your age. Standing tall with brown hair that curled around his ears wearing a neutral brown striped shirt tucked into his brown pants that were being held up by a belt. His eyes portrayed a more nervous demeanor, although he did meet your eyes when you glanced at him.

“Surely you can allow this young lady a few minutes with her brother,” The first man continued to say.

The prison guard seemed much more receptive to the older man than he was to you, figures. “I am sorry, but we have some police coming to question a very volatile prisoner.”

You swallow a scoff and force your eyes not to roll as the prison guard very easily these two men with an answer you were trying to get for the past 15 minutes.

Both men stand up a little straighter at the guard’s response and the second man, the one you noted with more nervousness which has now dissipated, reached into his pocket to retrieve something.

You very much didn’t expect a badge to be flashed to the prison guard. “We understand, sir, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with my colleague here, Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon. We’re both with the FBI here to question Mr. Bale, but nowhere did we mention that the prison had to be on lockdown for visitors while we conduct our short interview.”

Your eyes widen and sweep the ground as the both authoritative and informative voice of the taller agent rang out.

The prison guard man seemed bristled by the words, “Just prison protocol, sir. I’m sure you can understand, agents.”

You fake cough and correct the asshole guard, “Doctor!”

This earned small smiles and grins from the two FBI agents that are still behind you and the guard narrowed his eyes at you, a sneer forming on his face.

Before he, or anyone, could say anything, another man walked up behind the prison guard on the other side of the cement separator of the entrance into the prison. He smiles at the two agents and glances at you, not dropping his smile, but his eyes read a hint of confusion.

“SSA Gideon, Dr. Reid, it’s great to meet you both!” He says enthusiastically, “If you’ll follow me, I show you where we’ve set up Mr. Bale,”

Both men give the man in a suit a nod in acknowledgement, but the lanky man, Dr. Reid, holds up his hand first, “Would it be possible for this young woman to be able to pay a short visit to her brother, Warden?” He questions.

The warden of the prison turns to you, still with a happy-go-lucky smile, “And you are, miss?”

“Hi,” You introduce yourself, “I called ahead a week ago, two days ago, yesterday, and this morning hoping to see my brother.” You can sense the man’s hesitance, “It doesn’t have to be a long visit at all! I would have never come if the woman on the phone this morning didn’t say you weren’t accepting visitors today. It’s just, I’m from out of town and traveled down here to specifically talk to my brother. Our mom has terminal cancer and I wanted to tell him in person.”

“I am very sorry to hear that,” The warden pauses and looks over to the more senior Agent Gideon to gauge his reaction.

Agent Gideon gives you a small grin and glance and then turns back to address the warden, “I assure you it would be no bother at all if the young woman were to talk to her brother.”

“I would agree if it weren’t for the volatile nature of Adrian Bale, Agent Gideon,” The warden responds. At least this man seems a little bit more sympathetic to your situation. Much more than the guard who has remained in the room who has taken to just staring ahead past all three of you still waiting to enter the prison at the wall.

This time Dr. Reid pipes up, “I assume Mr. Bale will be restrained when we conduct our interview in a secure room with multiple guards posted in and outside the room. I also doubt that her brother is housed in the same maximum security wing that Mr. Bale is in.”

He looks to you towards the tail end of his last sentence and you take action, “No, he isn’t. He’s in general population and I would really only need 10 minutes, sir.”

The warden ponders for a bit before looking between you, Dr. Reid, and Agent Gideon and then again back to you. A small slightly defeated smile creeps up on his face.

“I am sure I can spare a few guards and arrange for a short visit with your brother.” The warden motions to the prison guard who sighs and grabs the walkie-talkie off his belt and arranges for some guards to handle the visit.

You can’t help but have a wide smile appear on your face and you verbally thank the warden and the prison guard, although that one is much more forced. Then you turn back to Dr. Reid and Agent Gideon.

“Thank you so much,” You say, formally introducing yourself and then holding out your hand.

Both men shake your hand and wave it off, although Dr. Reid seems much more hesitant to extend out his hand and shake it in yours. Even as he does it, you can tell his hand is a little bit clammy.

“Please,” Agent Gideon responds, “It was no big deal.”

You hear a buzzing noise come from the gated entrance and realize they are letting you through. You put your purse and phone in the plastic tray provided to you by a guard and wave at both men as you are led down the cement and stone hallway. The last thing you see when you turn the corner is Dr. Reid smiling, glancing his gaze between you and his shoes.

Both of you involuntarily blush when your eyes make contact and you, almost regretfully, watch his figure disappear as you move after the guards.

. . .

As you moved through the gated doors, a buzzing noise sounding out your arrival, you had a lot of thoughts on your mind. One of them, however, was not seeing the Dr. Reid again in the same room as before.

“Dr. Reid?” You questioned as you came through, you thanked the new prison guard who handed you the plastic tray with your belongings in it. Gathering your purse and phone.

“Oh,” Dr. Reid responded, “Hi, uh, please, just call me Spencer.”

There was a standing silence for a few moments, both of you not sure what to say to the other.

“How did it go?” You both say in unison. Your faces turn a nice flush and you share a nice chuckle on how you spoke together.

“Um, how did your interview go?” You ask. There’s a small look of confusion on his face and you go to elaborate, “Your interview with Adrian Bale? I heard you and your colleague mention it earlier. He’s the Boston Shrapnel Bomber, right?”

Spencer nods, “Yeah, it, uh, went okay.”

You cringe at yourself, “It’s probably official FBI business right? You can’t really talk about it, can you?” You ask.

“It really wasn’t that eventful, actually,” He responds with a hint of something you can’t quite put your finger on written on his face. You’re not sure you believe the entire statement, there seems to be another few thoughts running in his mind.

“So, where’s your colleague?” You ask. You hadn’t seen Agent Gideon since you walked back into the main entrance.

Spencer picks out his phone from his pocket and shows it to you, “I was just calling him. He left to take care of something else,” He explains vaguely.

You don’t pay much attention to the poor explanation, you know its probably something not meant for your eyes and ears.

“What about you?” Spencer asked, “Your, uh, visit with your brother. How did it go?”

You shrugged, “As good as something like telling your brother your mom has cancer can go. That she’s terminal and in palliative care. That she’s not gonna get better and will die.”

“I’m sorry that your mom is sick.” He replied.

You nodded. It was something that you had heard from dozens of people in the past couple months.

“My mom,” Spencer starts saying, by his tone it almost seems like its difficult to say, “She, uh, has paranoid schizophrenia.”

That was not something you had heard from others. Definitely not.

When you don’t answer at first, Spencer backtracks, “I, uh, don’t know why I said that. It’s not like its a competition, I’m so so-”

“Don’t worry about it,” You interrupt and wave his concerns off, “I’m really sorry about your mom too.”

Spencer gives you a small awkward smile, “Thanks. I really don’t know why I told you that. I haven’t really told anyone about my mom before.”

You return the smile, “I find that people are much more open to talk about their tragedies with people who are currently going through one.” You respond.

“God,” You scoff at yourself, “That was kinda sappy and poetic.” You state.

You walk over towards Spencer and go to sit at one of the plastic folding chairs set against the wall. They weren’t built for maximum comfort, this was a prison after all.

“Do you wanna sit?” You offer to Spencer, “You can keep me company until you have to leave or until my bus comes.” You say, checking outside for any sign of said bus.

Spencer nods, wipes his hands on his pants and walks over, sitting in the seat next to you. He places his satchel bag that was over his shoulder and sitting on his hip to the ground below you, joining where you sat your own purse.

“Is it just you and your brother?” Spencer asks, trying to make small talk.

You shake your head, “No, we have an older brother. He’s four years older than me. I’m the middle child and only daughter.”

“Could he not visit?” Spencer prys.

If it were anyone else asking this question, you would probaby give some half-assed answer, but to be honest, you were awfully bottled up emotionally from today’s visit and perhaps you did find truth in sharing tragedies.

“They’re not on talking terms, my brothers. Jeremiah, the one I’m visiting, is in prison for embezzling money and he’s loaned a lot more money from family too. He has a gambling addiction.” You explain.

“David, my older brother, got him a job at his workplace and when Jeremiah stole money from work, David got fired. David doesn’t want anything to do with Jeremiah and certainly wasn’t gonna come down to tell him about mom. And Dad refuses to leaves mom’s side ever since she’s gone into palliative care. He’s afraid that if he leaves, she’ll die.”

“So, you came out here to tell your brother?”

You nod, “Yeah. He didn’t deserve to find out in a letter and even though Dad and David are pissed at him right now, he still deserves the time that each of us got. To ask questions about mom’s condition and get some information.”

Spencer gives you a smile, “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“Thanks,” You reply, then your expression turns more somber, “Is it weird that I’m not mad at him? I mean, he borrowed ten thousand dollars I know I’ll never get back and got my brother fired and stole from my parents and the family business, but I just can’t stay mad at him.”

“I don’t think that’s weird.” Spencer assured you with a small smile on his face. The more you looked at him, you couldn’t believe how a guy so nice and caring and comforting was just interviewing one of the most dangerous criminals in the area.

“So, uh,” You go to change the subject, “Do you have any good food recommendations while I’m in town?” You inquire. You were hoping that whatever he suggested could be turned around in an excuse to maybe get dinner. Sure, it wasn’t practical since you were just visiting and you had only just met the guy, but then again, it’s not like you went and told all your family drama to everyone you just met.

There was something about this guy in particular, with his sweet hair and awkward posture that caught your eye and warmed your heart.

He chuckled and fiddled with the strap of his satchel bag on the edge of his chair, “I, uh, actually don’t live here. My team and I traveled down for a case from Quantico, Virginia.”

Your eyes widened a bit, “Oh,” It was your turn to chuckle now, “I live in D.C.” You respond.

“Wait,” He asks of you, “Really?”

You confirm with a nod and laugh out loud, “Yeah, I’m a political analyst on Capital Hill! It’s kind of crazy to meet here of all places, right? An unusual coincidence.”

“Actually, coincidences often seem more remarkable when they happen than they actually are. From a statistical perspective, coincidences are just events that happen with unlikely probability. Famed psychologist, Carl Jung, has said that there are no such things as coincidences, just synchronities.”

You stared at him in part awe and part adoration. You had previously scanned his hands for a wedding ring and didn’t find anything so you really hoped that he wasn’t dating or engaged to anyone because you’d really like to get to know this man more.

You guess he took your staring and silence in embarrassment because even though his cheeks flushed, he backtracked heavily.

“But, um, yeah!” He said, his voice cracking a little bit, “It’s pretty, uh, cool? To meet here, in a prison of all places.” His hand seems to instinctively go to brush his hair back behind his ear, even though it was already there.

You bite your lip and decide to make the first move, your heart starting to race, “Well, maybe when we’re both back in D.C, we can meet up and get some dinner.” You state slowly, trying to gauge his reaction.

The flush of his cheeks seem to travel across his face and to the tips of his ears, “That would be really nice.” He nods and glances up at your face instead of down at the floor.

You both turn your heads to the glass entrance doors to see the approaching visitors bus, the engines loud humming being able to be heard from all the way across the parking lot to inside the building.

“Oh,” You say and start getting up and getting your purse together. You rifle around in your bag and finally get a hold of a business card that just so happens to include your email and phone number on it.

You look at Spencer and give him a kind smile, “Here, when you’re back in the DMV area, call me and we can set up that dinner.”

Spencer gently takes the card from your hand and looks at it and then back at you, “Thank you, I will be sure to do so.” He says, a contagious grin on his face. An expression like he almost couldn’t believe what was happening.

“It was really nice to meet you, Spencer.” You say and then turn to go and leave, before pushing the glass door open, you turn your head over your shoulder and see Spencer staring back at you, giving you a small wave.

You wave your hand back and silently wish that he puts the number on your card to good use, but only time will really tell. As you make your way to the bus to leave, you realize your heart hasn’t stopped racing and you smile.

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #one shot; one episode

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aletterinthenameofsanity · 7 months

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Jim and Pete both know a thing or two about the power of creation. It was something they'd bonded over, in coded language and shared looks and the discovery of binders and razors and dirty jokes and ways to settle into their own skin. Even though their interactions had been gruff, sharp at the edges, they'd sunk into a strange sort of not-quite-friendship, an understanding that sometimes kept Jim going.

Jim isn't Lucius. They're not in love with Pete. They have Olu, and Archie, and Jim and Lucius are both open but their types are wildly different. Lucius once made eyes at Izzy while Jim has kissed Archie.

But there was some part of Jim that tried to cling to that feeling. Not of love, but of understanding. Of a faith in their power to create, not destroy. It's been so hard to remember over their past few months trapped in the hell that has been the Revenge, forced to kill, to watch Lucius waste away, taking what little happiness could be sought in Archie's blood-stained kisses. Jim has not created. Jim has barely survived.

But as Stede Bonnet's dinghy docks against the side of the Revenge, Jim remembers what creation felt like.

Jim is more familiar with holes, with destruction, than creation.

They have wanted to believe that somewhere out there, Olu is alive and searching for the Revenge. That months and months of living in hell were worth it, because the sun would break through at the end.

They have doubted. They have faltered. But they have clung, in a way they never did to the religion of the nuns, to this impossible, necessary faith.

God will be struck down. The sun will arrive.

In a literal sense, it's true. The crew all emerged onto the deck after the storm to find the sun beating down on the deck after days of storms.

But more importantly, Jim's sun has returned. Their Oluwande is back, climbing up the ropes to the deck of the ship along with the rest of the crew, Pete included.

In between the dinghy and the crew, Blackboard groans on the deck.

Alright, then.

So, God lives.

Jesus rises from the dead on the third day. Miraculous. Divine taken human form. The sinners clamber to his side and all that-

Fuck that.

They're sinners, they all know that. Killers and thieves and pirates, down to their bones.

But killing God was no sin. It was no act of pride. It was an act of survival. Now that the sea god has been incapacitated, stripped of his wrath, of his deadly touch, they can all breathe. They can all live.

Jim steps right over the half-dead corpse of the sea god and leaps for Olu. Their teeth bash together, their kiss awkward and harsh and desperate, but Jim's love is here, warming their chest, soft and hot and welcoming against the sharp blade that has become their very existence.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," Jim confesses their sin, their doubt, "I thought you were dead."

But Olu, their sweet Oluwande, doesn't falter, his smile brighter than the sun, the greatest blessing that Jim has had in months, in their whole life, probably. "Glad I could prove you wrong."

"I am never leaving you again, you hear me?" Jim's promise is a vicious, honest one. "They can bash my head in again and I'll crawl after you, killing any and every man I have to get back to you."

Despite the venom in Jim's words, the absolutely raw honesty in their voice, Olu doesn't falter. Doesn't even blink. "And I'll find you, across everything," Olu promises in return, just as honest, just as tender as Jim's blades.

Across from Jim, Lucius is still wobbly. They trimmed his beard last night and let him bathe in the captain's quarters, fed him dried ginseng and crushed clover, mint and horseradish, all in a warm broth with pieces of softened jerky that was supposed to start clearing out his lungs and filling his stomach, but one night of proper care and food does not clear out months' worth of illness and starvation. Lucius is going to need actual medical care on land, just as much as Izzy, to make a full recovery from the drowning and the trunk.

But right now, he is blinking into the sky for the first time in months. The sun's rays on the water are harsh enough to blind him after months kept in the dark, but he drinks them in anyway, seeking that paradise that was denied him, because there , sunlight glinting off of his shined skull, comes Black Pete, who makes the journey straight to Lucius himself.

Blackboard was a vengeful God, a demanding kraken, a figure of myth and monsters.

The man in front of Lucius is a dream, but is no myth. He is blessedly, physically human, fragile and tough and prone to giggling during sex and so hot and so blessedly alive.

Lucius is trembling. He is not recovered enough to run across the deck, no matter how much he might want to. He is nauseous and light-headed and-

And he cannot look away. He cannot bear to break eye contact with the man in front of him, the thought-made-flesh that kept him going for so long trapped beneath the deck.

"Babe!" Black Pete shouts and crashes into Lucius. They slam to the deck together, and Lucius' back is going to ache so badly later but he can't bring himself to care about future pain when past and current pain have become such an integral part of his life and this pain, at least, means Pete is alive, Lucius' own miracle, and for that, Lucius will bear any agony.

"I'm sorry," Lucius says, mouth almost pressed to Pete's. He can smell the dirt and sweat and sea water on Pete, and once would have found that a turn-off, but he's gotten so used to associating it with his crewmates, his saviors, over the past few months that all he can feel is deep, aching relief. "I lost my finger."

"I can whittle you a new one, love," Pete swears, and Lucius kisses him again, pulls him in tight, clutches on with everything he has. He knows the nails on his good hand and his wooden finger are digging into Pete's back, but if he lets go he's going to fall and he can't bear to drown ever again.

Pete doesn't grimace. He doesn't even flinch. He just pulls Lucius in even tighter, as if he, too, cannot bear to let Lucius leave him, can barely believe that he is holding his living lover, and Lucius was a ghost for so long, but he can never feel dead when he is being held so painfully tight.

The clouds parted on the fortieth day. The ship sailed on, at peace-

And then Saint Izzy Hands raises his pistol to Stede Bonnet, crouching over the body of the kraken. Izzy is leaning against Frenchie's side , the crew not having had a chance to whittle him a new leg just yet. He is a mess, sacrifices carved from his physical body, and yet he stands taller than Blackbeard or Stede Bonnet ever could.

"You can bring him back, if you dare," Izzy says, the avenging angel, "But you can't save him."

"I don't need to save him," Stede says, and there's something angelic in that, too, the faith in god even after god has wrong every human he has touched. "I just need to be there for him."

Izzy gestures to the brig with his pistol and spits over the railing into the ocean. "Take him down there. Do whatever you want. Try to bring him back from the dead. Keep him this side of the afterlife. Blackbeard will never be a god again."

"God?" the Swede asks, brow furrowing, and maybe no one who did not live on this ship, this hell on earth, will not understand what happened here, this cult to the kraken that was created, but as long as Olu and Pete don't question it too harshly, things will work out.

Blackbeard is not a god, anymore. If he survives, he is a man. Edward Teach will emerge, or nothing will survive at all, because if Blackbeard tries to return, someone on this crew- whether it be Jim, or Izzy, or Archie, or Frenchie, or Fang, or even Lucius- will make sure that this time around, the death takes.

Now that they have risen out of purgatory, out of the circles of hell, out of the storm, they can begin to recover. They can become people. They can find some way to turn this ship from hell into a home.

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wutheringmights · 2 months

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After feeling like an absolute clown when I saw The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie in theaters, I figured it was time I sat down and read the original novel for myself. Unsurprisingly, I really enjoyed the book. It's definitely my favorite Hunger Games novel.

I should leave a disclaimer real quick. So I read the original trilogy a few years before the movies were released. I liked them well enough, but I always struggled to love them. Unfortunately, my biggest problem is Katniss. She's a great character. I do not like being stuck in her POV. I wish this was an ensemble story so that every side of the conflict is explored. In that way, the movies almost work better for me. I say almost, as I have such a bone to pick with Catching Fire throwing Katniss back into the arena, but that's another rant for another time.

My point is that I have never been passionate about the series, and I have not read the books in many, many years.

Yet, I still feel fairly confident calling this the best book in the series. I like exploring stories from the wrong perspective. Seeing the games from the eyes of the Capitol is genuinely interesting. I love the chapters where the students debate the philosophy of the games. I love watching Coriolanus justify his own decisions. I am obsessed with how this man thinks.

I cannot give enough praise for how Collins write Coriolanus's point of view. Here, the limited perspective works flawlessly. Seeing the world filtered through his eyes is interesting-- though I wonder why she chose to write this novel in limited third person? Did she want the veneer of objectivity that comes with third person POV, or is the first person POV trend in YA over?

I am not saying this book is perfect. It's goofy in one too many places, and there are a few plot points that just feel very immature to me (mainly, Coriolanus having to save Sejanus from the arena-- only a YA novel would make that justifiable).

My biggest problem is the loss of tension after the second act. As important as it is for the story to take Lucy Gray and Coriolanus out of the Capitol and the games, that third act really drags. There needed to be one more plotline carried over from the first two acts to help keep the suspension building. Collins really could have shaved 100 pages off this book, or made that third act into a second novel entirely.

With that in mind, I think I still like the movie better, if only for all the ways it condenses the story and fixes some of the pacing.

What really upsets me is how many people on Good Reads hate this book. I saw one review decrying the concept of this novel as ill-conceived-- something about trying to humanize the Hunger Games' Palpatine. That takes me back to how hung-up I am at the concept of a Hunger Games fandom. These books are so committed to their message and themes that it's always weird to see people talk about ships and stuff. I guess I just don't see the appeal.

When I was in high school, English teachers were just allowing the first book to be read and analyzed for class. According to a teacher friend of mine, the book is now an official part of the curriculum. I think that's a little unwarranted too. But if kids studied The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes in school... yeah, I would be okay with that one.

#i tried to stay on topic about the actual book i read but this turned into a rant about my complicated feelings about thg #i want to love the hunger games but man... they're just good and really nothing more #me rambling #me reading #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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tamelee · 1 year

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NARUTO TOPIC: (NON-)'CANON'

In regard to this ask by @isabeldc (and a lot of recent Anon asks about Canon).

(Very long post. [a lot of warnings])

Eh.. I feel like I might be the only person interested in this topic from a p.o.v. that talks about what goes on behind the story. And that is fine this is my personal view. But I think it is vital in a conversation like this because that is where it starts. I still hope this answers the Canon asks I still had though. I apologize, I have studied marketing and am studying storytelling, so this post is kinda theoretical.

Disclaimer: What is Canon is not up to you or me, but your truth will always be yours.

Yes, this post is intentionally color coded.

WHAT DOES CANON MEAN?

Canon is original (and official) source material.

So, as 'Naruto' became an entire franchise based on that original source material- this means: the Manga.

However, additionally Canon also means: material derived from the original source that matches the same narrative. Kishimoto's narrative. (His work.)

A common misconception is that narrative is the same as storytelling (skill) or plot. A plot (chronological) is part of the story. It is a sequence of events (beginning → end). The complete narrative can be more seen as the story itself, a structure and a means to help you understand the creator's perspective and their values. Aka, again: Kishimoto's narrative, his p.o.v. By definition all literature is narrative. This is a very complex topic and yet despite 'Naruto Canon' being easy to define- some people are confused. I also know it's not that serious, I'm making this because I find the topic interesting. That's all.

What made it so confusing for 'Naruto'?

When you experience a story (reading/watching/listening) you use two ways of thinking: paradigmatic and a narrative one. It means logic (facts/truth) and the narrative way of thinking which deals more with human intentions, feelings and personal experiences. They play a part in your interpretation*.

A story's structure reflects the way we, as a learning individual, give meaning to (or make sense out of) personal experiences. Also why humans benefit from learning through narrative (story) as it is more easily absorbed by our brains.

Hence, in our case, when you observe an absurd amount of mental gymnastics or out-of-context reasoning to force 'boy loves girl' despite evidence, (heteronormative thinking), what is really happening is that someone is trying to mentally connect pieces of information to an existing related thread of thoughts. This through concepts, feelings, images, sensations, metaphors etc. An element ('Naruto's story) is ‘wrapped’ and connected to existing narratives in our head. Often biased. (s)

It is not always ignorance or ill intent. Not always.

Such idiosyncratic interpretations* of Canon and other contradictions that only live in a fan's head are Headcanon.

*Note: stories play a very important role in interpretation. And while the mind is a personal thing that in itself is not an excuse to create false narratives on purpose. (Cognitive bias.) These are obvious as they lack in sufficient and accurate information. Your "interpretation" isn't source-material-truth (as in Canon) by itself.

That's why it has been easy to ignore marketing material until now because:

Whoever controls the narrative has the power to influence the reader/viewer. (Depending on target-audience. And yes, I'm talking about what you think I'm talking about.)

(Gretchen Busl did a TEDx talk about control in narratives.)

Which brings me to..

Ownership

Viz Media (terms are incredibly long) says that Kishimoto and Viz Media LLC/Shueisha co-own 'Naruto's licensing. Viz Media (led by Ken Sasaki) is also the one that oversees the financial and operational concerns, controls, buys and handles all the affiliations (which also means hiring third-party employees), licensing and broadcasting businesses as it is the parent company. And well, this is normal. Kishimoto is a Mangaka, not a business man.

What I'm emphasizing here is that Kishimoto does not have full ownership of 'Naruto' (which has its own rules) as it became more than a story. A franchise. Something that became a profitable source due to the story's success. Even as he was creating the Manga, he mentioned in interviews that he had to argue with the team about details/scenes (Naruto's sexy Harem Jutsu- guy version etc) and that he felt pressured about x, y and z.

A popular book about screenwriting ("Save the Cat!" by Blake Snyder) talks about pre-sold franchises. It is when studios produce sequels/remakes that an audience is already "sold" on. A built-in fan base. In the early '00s big companies already had trouble grabbing a viewer's attention as the average attention span was cut down to 30 seconds. These days it is down to less than 5. (Newer studies say it's more an issue of us becoming more demanding, an adaptation of sorts.) People quickly give up on new shows if it doesn't grab them immediately and it is hard to cut through all the traffic that competes for attention. I even notice myself finding it hard to get into new shows lately and needing to really sit down in order to give it a chance. 'Naruto' has everything that Hirohiko Araki (creator of JoJo) describes as 'the Royal Road of Manga', so decision-makers just don't think that you're out there always wanting to try something new. They're not willing to gamble without research. (That's not smart anyway.) And this happened a lot throughout Shippuden with the help of polls, (most popular female character for example which was a huge one) collecting data and doing thorough quantitative research to predict a future and hopefully spot a trend. Hence the existence of 'Boruto'.

So what do you think? How genuine is 'Boruto' anyway?

(Having done research doesn't mean automatic success.. as we are the built-in fanbase.)

This also is happening as I write this post. (Though the current poll seems highly busted as the cult found a way to vote multiple times a day.)

You may constantly hear people say "Boruto is only made for profit" and that in the end is true, yet there is more to it. I hope you can see why. And it is important to understand the underlying intentions in my opinion when it comes to a discussion about something being genuinely Canon. Which is why many people refuse the sequel to be Canon in the first place.

.. Storytelling and building a franchise around the original work (incl. business, marketing, adaptations) are different things.

In all definitions for something to be judged as Canon, as a general rule, official material has to be genuine. Preferably made by the original creators themselves. If it goes against the narrative (the story) or if it doesn't add anything that matches the same narrative as the original source material, then it is non-Canon.

THE ANIME

'Filler lists' for Anime are made by page contributors which you and I can register for too. Despite 'Naruto' finishing in 2017, the most popular lists get updated regularly and not too long ago.

Why you ask? Personal bias and confusion created around its messy sequel 'Boruto'. They've added 'Anime Canon' (it makes no sense) which simply means Filler (non-Canon). Episodes based on novels (every episode after 484) are now marked as 'Manga Canon' and previously were not as there is no Manga nor is it Canon.

Hence, people are bringing up the Canon-question lately. Things in 'Naruto' are being changed in discussion for the sake of its sequel. "If that in 'Boruto' is true then this for 'Naruto' wasn't right either!!" They say. Hello????? Its foundation is being reworked instead of the other way around. And I don't know about you and this has nothing to do with Naruto or Sasuke as characters only, but that's pretty damn sad. (And yes I know, what exists already can never be changed, but this is still a matter of controlling the narrative which I'll explain.)

To produce an animation a lot of people are involved. (Literally hundreds.) Don't take my word for it though, there are plenty of documentaries about the process that you can look for. I also have a few examples from ASO College group Japan. The pics are from their animation course. To understand how a change in narrative (or deliberate control) can happen, it helps to know a bit about the process.

This is just a general overview but all of these are vital for the production of animation. Everyone has their own role but first, before anything there is a planning phase. Someone who schedules and does the finances etc.

The Producer.

Aka Studio Pierrot (and Aniplex) for Naruto (Shippuden) 4 years after the Manga was published. Well, the planning started probably earlier but that’s when the Anime first aired. (2002)

Then, you need a director who will grasp the entire image of the work and control the production to make sure that everything progresses smoothly.

“The director has the right to make the final decision on many aspects of the animation project.”

The narrative of the Manga will always be kept in mind (of course) but this is true!!! Kishimoto is not the director of the Anime. It is not his job. (Although as a Mangaka, you are also a director of your story in the Manga as well.) And at the same time he was still extensively working on the Manga without rest.

For ‘Naruto’ the director was:

Hayato Date

For ‘Naruto Shippuden’ the directors were:

Hayato Date (1 - 479)

(Note: interesting choice to switch director here, no?)

Osamu Kobayashi (480 - 483)

Chiaki Kon (484 - 488)

Toshinori Watanabe (489 - 493)

Masahiko Murata (494 - 500)

‘Naruto’ has 30+ episode directors who are in charge of the individual episodes themselves. ‘Naruto’ Shippuden around 77 (!!).

Only when everything is decided planning-wise, then they start the process. They need someone to fill in all the details and spoken lines.

That’s the amazing work of a screenwriter.

“Even if the work is being adapted from an original Manga or novel,”

“Modifications are almost always needed for producing the animation.”

Of course, a scene needs to be filled as blocks of narratives are missing between panels or even rewritten in order to produce an episode. In the case of 'Naruto' entire fight scenes needed to be choreographed. Dialogue needed to be added in order to compose an entire episode out of a few panels. Entire Seasons of Filler arcs exist. Who do you think wrote all that?

These people:

This is relevant because it means that more than 30 people are involved in the process of 'storying content' based on their own judgement of the original Manga. If you ever wondered why some episodes are very much in favor of one narrative and seemingly against the same one in another- this is why as well.

"Can you kill me calmly(/softly)? Sasuke.."

Some things didn't make it into the Anime. Other things changed that modify the context a bit like having the other Shinobi help Naruto during the War by animating all those hands. Or have Naruto show regret after "dying" because he promised Jiraiya he would become Hokage. That changes a lot because in actuality he didn't mind dying with Sasuke, that was his choice. Having him show regret in front of Sasuke would make Sasuke feel guilt, (that's what some people thought) as if he was blaming him for it. That wasn't the case at all, yet, if you haven't read the Manga I can see why you'd think that as it gets brought up in conversation. They completely missed the mark in my opinion. And well, Sasuke's entire confession.. it would've explained a lot for Anime watchers. During VotE2, Sasuke's emotions were dulled compared to the Manga as well as in the panels, he was shouting while punching Naruto.

Then of course there are certain scenes that were glorified and characters which background stories are completely made up. And yet, those episodes are marked as 'Manga Canon' (when it should be 'Mixed Canon/Filler'.)

Which is fine, the point is that the Anime is created by an enormous team. Even the slightest modification changes the narrative and it is inevitable as so much script is added or at points, lost. But arguing for Canon based off of a list is completely pointless for these reasons.

Currently as I write this, 197 - 222 from Shippuden are all marked as 'Manga Canon' except for 213 (Mixed Canon/Filler) and I don't think it was that way(?), which is perfect because I want to talk about that one and 212.

The story at this point is Sakura running after Sasuke and Kiba told her where he is. She knocks out her comrades whom she asked for help, leaves them to die in the middle of a path in enemy territory so she can go after Sasuke herself and thinks she can kill him with a useless poisoned kunai even though he is immune to it. (Confirmed by Kakashi.) Now, please take note of the image that the OP called 'lovers' is painting ↩

Ah yes the love-triangle. Except, no one is paying Sakura any attention. The OP/ED’s have their own directors btw.

In this arc, both Naruto and Sakura set their own resolve in how they are handling their current situation and decide what to do in regard to Sasuke. More importantly how they feel about it. The Anime decided to split up their decision-making into two episodes in order to show you the contrast deliberately. 212 'Sakura's Resolve' (Manga Canon?) for Sakura, and 213 'Lost Bonds' (Mixed Canon/Filler'?) for Naruto.

First, Sakura deceived, hurt and manipulated (yes, she did, your meta's defending this don't make sense) the people around her so she could run off on her own. Naruto sneaked off without Yamato knowing, although he got annoyed, his little white lie saying he "slept" didn't hurt anyone. In fact, if he wasn't on time Sakura would've died. They both got 2 panels in the Manga running towards the bridge where Sasuke is.

In the Anime however majority of ep 212 shows Sakura running while we hear her thoughts about the matter. The same for Naruto in ep 213 although he is in despair while lying in bed first which is prolonged too.

They add scenes of Sakura as a child where she tells other kids, including Ino that she picked Sasuke to be her crush. For Naruto it is scenes of him picking Sasuke to be his rival.

We see a ton of "Team" 7 flashbacks while we hear their thoughts. Sakura asks herself when she fell in love with Sasuke, that being teammates didn’t change her, how she was “so hopelessly in love with the cool Sasuke..” as we see some scenes of her staring at him:

.. yada, yada..

As for Naruto, he says the reason he picked Sasuke to be his rival is because he was so different from himself (as Sasuke was so good at everything at the time and Naruto wasn’t) he wanted to become like Sasuke. (He confessed this in Canon.) Naruto explains that Sasuke was always one step ahead of him and that the reason why he trained so hard was because he wanted to catch up to him. He’s his strength. (Do you see where this is going? Do you already notice the insane contrast with the previous episode and how it feels?) Instead of Sakura's shallow thoughts and selfish love they show Sasuke acknowledging Naruto which is also Canon (Chunin Exam). Something he realized he wanted since Chapter 3.

“It was the first time Sasuke acknowledged me as an equal.” he says.

Then, in Sakura's episode she reflects upon how she never gave a thought to who Sasuke really was “behind that pensive face” and when she realized “the shadow he carried” it was too late. Thus, Sakura gives up on Sasuke. (But that is Canon.) She also goes on about Naruto knowing more than her and her trying to catch up with them but that Sasuke isn’t Sasuke anymore. Her thoughts here, although not in the Manga word for word in the same Chapter, still match Canon. She doesn't know anything about Sasuke and Kishimoto has her confess this again after the war, that all she could do was cry.

Naruto’s thoughts, confessions are actually also in the Manga and he repeats them later in the scene which is under the bridge both in the Manga and the Anime.

Naruto reflects upon what he knows and came to learn. Then Sai is shown (who’s character is used also to help readers/viewers answer questions about Kishimoto’s version of “bonds”), as he says that both Naruto and Sakura must have a reason to pursue Sasuke so desperately even though he doesn’t understand it all that clearly yet. Because he doesn't. This to emphasize the point of the episodes.

While Sakura had set her resolve to kill Sasuke by herself, Naruto is still in despair about the entire situation and previous events. He mulls over his bond with Sasuke (this extension of the pining isn’t in the Manga) while we see some more flashbacks (Retrieval Arc, Canon). He accepts that at the time he didn’t understand Sasuke as he thinks over his words during VotE1 while they show scenes that are in the Manga:

We get to see more flashbacks from characters who press Naruto about his bond with Sasuke as they all tell him to give up on him. As they tell him to focus on his goals to become Hokage which can't include Sasuke and that he's a fool that should become wiser if he wants to survive as a Ninja. As not only the whole world gives up on Sasuke and Naruto's faith in Sasuke, even Sakura who supposedly loves him so much says that he's is too far beyond their reach... Yet she comes to realize after Naruto’s speech under the bridge that it is only Naruto that is able to reach Sasuke, that only Naruto never gave up on him and that her resolve to kill Sasuke in comparison to Naruto who wants to bear Sasuke's hatred and die with him.. is not only weak- they made it pretty clear how irrelevant she is to him. As she says herself: She's the one not able to reach him, but Naruto can. And she said this before 'Sasuke's retrieval Arc' too.

Conclusion:

Naruto already said he'd rather be a fool his whole life.

So, the Anime tells it slightly differently than the Manga, neither episodes are entirely 'Manga Canon' and don't follow the original structure. However it is all based on Canon, so how would you judge this? There is a reason why I bring this up.

It would almost be impossible for an Anime to be completely 'Manga Canon' because your Anime would be really short yet what you can do is be genuine and stay true to the narrative. Which is what happened here. So why is everyone simply accepting how every episode is marked by a random person anyway? Why are some episodes marked differently when it's the same? That list is biased as hell.

For that reason I'm very selective about episodes being Canon or not. Some scenes within an episode are, some aren't.. But in the end every episode despite Fillers up until Shippuden ep 479 the message didn't change. Hinata and Sakura still were ignored in the end and dudebro's ran to the internet to complain about Naruto and Sasuke's fixation on each other. And so for me it doesn't really matter much.

And also, I know this is an unpopular opinion, but I wouldn't mind a Naruto remake. If they could do it well at least and follow the Manga completely without so many flashbacks and leave out all the fillers? Make it like the bingewatch-Anime's like they make these days? It's just that I don't have a lot of faith in it. But if they could with a non-bias director? (At least one that understands the Manga well.) I'd love to see it.

MOVIES

For the same reasons I don’t consider the movies Canon. Not even if Kishimoto worked on them. So many people work on these movies even at the planning stage alone and then hundreds including the animation, voice acting, production and music... Plastering Kishimoto’s name on it and saying “he worked on it” doesn’t really say much tbf.

The only exception is ‘Boruto the Movie’ (if you count that in the first place), because Kishimoto was very vocal about it being his personal project. He did not only write the story, but also did the screenplay. (!) Which is very different from vaguely saying "..he was involved in the writing." And it shows because the ‘Boruto’ Anime, with their weird shipping-agenda, re-did the scenes to make them look less gay. Which is insulting tbh.

And no, 'the Last' is not Canon, Genjutsu my ass.

We all know why it was made and if you go back to the meaning of ‘Canon’ (“material derived from the original source that matches the same narrative”) that’s not it. Genjutsu worked on Naruto before he could control Kurama's Chakra. Explain to me why Kurama, whom had a perfect partnership built with Naruto at the end of the series, hated Naruto all of a sudden and refused to break him out of that lame guilt trip other than stupid plot-reasons and you may have a point. I'll wait.

DATABOOKS

Vague, includes subjective commentary by staff and are highly inconsistent. I guess they’re fun to use when discussing powerscaling between characters. You can quickly check a character's Chakra nature or profile which is useful. For things like that I guess they can be helpful.

For other data though.. why not use the Manga? All the data is in there already. While it is true that the books use the Manga as a source and it is nice to know their birthdays, the commentary includes words that literally don’t make sense. Temari can “blow away the Universe” (subjective) and Sakura sees Naruto as “a troublesome guy that courts her insistently but only wants the best for him and never doubted him.” (wrong) Hinata is described as a “pure white lily whose feelings of love reach towards the future in place of her resolve” (my god). There is a reason why people use these Databooks so insistently while ignoring the Manga. It is glorified and untrue.

Therefore, sure they may be fun to have (I guess) because they’re meant to show you a summarized overview of a character through spiced up vocabulary like they’re selling them to you, but that’s why Databooks can’t be Canon.

INTERVIEWS

You have years worth of story and a little interview is what should invalidate or support that entirely? Everyone has their own bias/characters after all. Characters that Kishimoto openly mocks. Kishimoto's earlier interviews seem very genuine and he goes in-depth about his story and how he’s thinking about ending it too. As early as 2006.

He leaves little stories about his life in-between Manga Chapters and they're enjoyable to read. Some interviews are also in his art-books. But around the time they started to press him about ships in the middle of Shippuden? He stumbles around words, says contradicting things, constantly mentions feeling pressured and starts hiding. I think it is clear why this happened. But that's why I try not to use them in arguments because it is easy to counter his words with his own damn words said in another interview :')!

I do use his interviews when it comes to his art-form/writing because I, as an aspiring writer, love to take inspiration from him. But no, interviews are not Canon as Kishimoto himself, has been too contradicting. Which is why I don’t use them if possible, not even in SNS’s favor.

Of course, this applies to VA's etc- too.

NOVELS

None of the novels from the Naruto franchise (though maybe Itachi Shinden? Not sure) are truly made to add something new that was in character. Truthfully I haven’t read them all but novels are non-Canon. Yes, no matter what label they give them in order to fool you into getting interested in its dumb sequel. This never used to be a question in the first place. Not like this anyway. The only fandom that is questioning this is.. *drumroll please* the Naruto/SS/Boruto-fandom. Wow, I wonder why. Are you surprised? Are you questioning this? Ok. Google something vaguely like "are novels canon?" and see what comes up. Ikr? And you didn't even mention 'Naruto'. And I know, I'm sure there are plenty of people saying the novels are Canon nowadays, hence this post. And hence the changes in the Filler-lists.

There is one I have read in its entirety though, the one that made that all happen, which author (mostly known for the Retsuden series) made sure to note it is in fact, NON-Canon.

And this is probably the only thing I'll agree on with Esaka.

These aren't Esaka’s only tweets claiming the novels to be her own. As in: singular. Or her own interpretation/story/not an extension of the original Manga. What people don’t understand is that plastering Kishimoto’s name on a novel as “by Masashi Kishimoto” is a marketing ploy because it sells well. It makes 'Boruto' and in this case a ship that has no development more legit despite still having no development.

It makes us talk about it more. Joke's on me. I'm aware thanks.

Because they know that people do care about things being Canon even if people make posts about them not caring about things being Canon or not. Wdym oxymoron. Showing off the Mangaka's name means the story (the original Manga) is by Kishimoto not the story within the novel but they don’t have to specify that on a cover. Why? Because they CO-OWN the licensing. They hired Esaka who got into 'Naruto' only a year before writing her fantasy novel. He didn’t sit next to her to write her trash garbage (anti-)fanfic. (Spoiler). Why is that so hard to understand?

Check WSJ, 27th issue if you must, “she (Esaka) returns” after having written Sasuke Shinden and Kakashi Retsuden.

These novels are simply made to create more income for the company and the quickest way to do so is by picking a target audience and satiate their needs. Kishimoto mentioned he had no clue how to get SS together as Sasuke only has rejected her and had no reason to love her (Canon) and so they hire a SS-shipper to write that story.

"So?" I hear you say. "He couldn't think of anything, so they hire someone else, what's the big deal."

Oh. glad you asked. Well for one, we already had 'Gaiden' where Kishimoto made the dynamic between the characters as adults pretty clear. Secondly, this novel was a response to 'Gaiden' and went directly against the entire narrative including the original source almost as if to debunk what was already there. Like she was saying that Kishimoto was wrong about everything and that her ship is sailing strong regardless while taking his scenes AND dialogue used between Naruto and Sasuke but then using them for SS. This, because Esaka seemed a little bitter about it. So therefore already, 'Retsuden' can't be Canon no matter what. Thirdly, she is a well-known Naruto and Hinata hater who openly likes tweets mocking them and supports the idea that Naruto is a third wheel who is not really that important to Sasuke. Engaging in such (anti-)fandom behavior as a "professional author" hired by the franchise and holding quite the influence for your sub-fandom is just disrespectful. She agrees with fans who beg for official smut novels and art from her and Kishimoto and I just don't think she should is all. (This, and don't laugh, is also marketing research, she can, if the company can profit from it, actually make it happen. Because it already did with the adaptations. But doing so with this type of behavior, doesn't mean the narrative-change is Canon.)

Also, Kishimoto drew the cover but didn't even design it himself. He got the assignment by email. That's how much he was involved. Kenji Takahashi from the design company ‘Terra Engine’ is in charge of the designs and JJ-books interviewed them about it in 2019. (S)

I might one day make a short summary of a long post I made about Retsuden because that one is a mess. I don't encourage you to read it. I do have to say, if you think Sasuke with 2 arms, or Avatar-filter screenshots are bad, from what I've seen, those adaptations are 1000000x better than the novel 😂💀 and that's saying a lot.

Anyway I talked enough. 🌷

#naruto analysis #naruto canon #canon talk #episode 212 #episode 213 #I hope I answered all the anon asks about canon in this #can't possibly have made this longer anyway 💀#should I add more disclaimers and warnings #or nah #nah #just don't read if it is a topic that bothers you much I guess #also I don't like retsuden #hope that helps

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