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angelamajiki · 3 years

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[ a father’s love ]

PARING: StepFather! Aizawa x StepDaughter! Reader

SYNOPSIS: Your stepfather took you in with open arms after the death of your mother. Depression gets the better of you and Shouta promises to take care of you. But just how far is he willing to go to see it through?

CW: yandere, pseudo-incest, mentions of stalkers, mentions of death, depression, mental health issues, pregnancy, noncon, somnophilia, bondage, daddy kink, praise kink, afab reader

AN: my first collab with the bnharem server!! the theme was roommates (i ran with the term loosely) read the other member’s takes here! mind the tags as usual and enjoy!! :)

The death of your mother shattered you. A freak accident with a villain attack had her crushed under rubble from a collapsed building. Your stepfather, Shouta, suggested that you move back home with him after her funeral. As tempting as the offer was, you were determined to make it through University and handle yourself like a big girl, an adult ready to take on the world. You had only moved out a few months before her death, independence calling to you after you received your college acceptance letter.

A few months and an eviction notice later, you crawled back to him, the only remnants of your family. Open arms enveloped you, bringing you solace and comfort in your dire time of need. You felt like a child, bundled up in his arms as you sobbed, screaming at the cruelty of the world. Depression hit you hard and deep, flunking you out of your classes and preventing the bills from being paid. You had no other alternative but to accept his offer.

“You time and space to grieve properly, kitty. The most logical thing to do is take a breather.”

Ah, kitty. He always knew that was your favorite nickname, calling you that ever since you were a little girl. He also always knew just what to say. Patting your thigh, he stood up and extended his hand to help you up as well.

“Let’s go step up your room. I'm sure you need a nap after that cry.”

He gave a wrinkly smile before disappearing down the hall.

Skeptical at first, you were unsure if it was the right move to return home. You needed time to figure out what you wanted, what you needed. A break from life would give you a chance to sort things out, right? And Shouta was more than prepared to use this opportunity to show you he would be all that you needed and more.

The man was nothing short of doting and generous. A shoulder to cry on, a good laugh, a friend, a father. He helped you piece your broken soul back together. Whenever he wasn’t patrolling, he was at home with you. When your depression seemed to drown you, Shouta was there to pull you out of the water. He made sure you ate, helped brush your hair when it was matted, and got you into clean clothes daily. It was the small things that he did for you that helped your demeanor change.

—

“Up and at ‘em, kitty. Breakfast is on the table.”

You grunted, burrowing deeper into your bedding. A chuckle reverberated in his throat as he rubbed your lower back soothingly.

“C’mon, I know you haven't been eating lately. Let's get some food in you. I made your favorite.”

—

But as time passed, his help could only do so much. Your mental health continued to dwindle, plummeting into the ground when her first anniversary passed.

—

Gentle strokes of a brush smoothed through your tangled hair. Shouta was kind enough to help you when your head got matted into a rat’s nest, being incredibly tender and gentle with you. Tears streamed down your face, broken hiccups and sobs bubbling from your chest. You were trying to hold it in, he could tell. A sweet kiss was placed on the back of your head as he enveloped you in a comforting embrace, letting his hands sip down to your hips to rub circles in.

“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”

He was the only one that was.

—

The domestic dynamic the two of you fell into hardly felt like one of parent and child, but more as two lovers sharing a home they built together. The pair of you even adopted a new cat together in hopes of cheering you up. You can't say that you disliked it. It felt...nice to have your presence matter when it was a struggle even to be alive. Shouta always checked in on you; whether he sent you an update from work or shared a cat video. He really was the best father anyone could hope for, even when your depression got the worst of you.

Your depression started to manifest itself in many forms. Lately, you’d been having vicious nightmares, only to wake up with an unknown stickiness on your thighs. Recalling the night terrors was something that evaded you, but you knew you were being violated. Perhaps your body wet itself from the fear of the dream? It was the only logical answer you and Shouta could come up with. Depression sure had funny ways of physically manifesting itself. You thought that would be the end of it, putting the situation behind you.

It was until it started happening nightly. The nightmares only seemed to prolong themselves, worsening to the point where you could vividly dream of being assaulted. Your underwear was now soiled too, and it definitely wasn’t your doing. Fearing you had a stalker, Shouta installed brand new locks on your windows and doors, hoping to soothe you. He was a Pro-Hero, so he certainly had the means and know-how to protect you. It put you at some ease, but it continued to the point where your stepfather decided sleeping in the same room would help you feel safer.

It didn't.

The nightmares themselves only seemed to get worse, but Shouta was right there to comfort you as soon as you woke up shouting in a panic. He would take you into his arms and hold you until you fell back asleep. You felt like a child. But he didn't judge you.

After a month of strange behavior, the stress caused you to gain some weight. Visiting a doctor was your best bet to get an answer. He took you to your appointment, letting you hold onto his arm for comfort as his hand rested comfortably on your thigh. The two of you were mistaken for a couple by a nurse. What a strange, intimate relationship the pair of your tangled yourselves in.

The doctor ran some tests and had your blood drawn. The results were to be emailed to you in a few days. Shouta calmed your nerves with a tender kiss to the forehead, reassuring you that everything would work itself out.

The notification for the email came in a few days later while Shouta was at work and you were lounging in the living room. Patience was never your strong suit, so you took his laptop from the coffee table, only to open up to a camera feed. Coming from your room.

The blood in your veins ran cold as you looked into the memory drive of the feed. Maybe he set up a camera to see what was happening during your nightmares? That had to be it; how could you assume the worst of your sweet dad? The only saved footage to be found was him fucking himself deep inside of your sleeping body.

“I see the results are in.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. He always had a habit of sneaking up on you.

“What-” You couldn’t find the words to describe your anger. “What the fuck is this!”

Disgust. Rage. Dispair.

Your only family left had turned against you.

“You were upset at the loss of your family, kitty. So I decided to give you a new one.”

He couldn't possibly mean…

“You’re pregnant.”

Bile rose to your throat as you gagged at the mere thought of his words. Pregnant? With your father’s child? His betrayal cut you more profoundly than your mother’s death ever could have. But it couldn't have made more sense—his touches, his comfort, sleeping in your room, the nightmares that plagued you.

“You’re sick!”

You shouted, tears streaming down your face as you continued to pummel insults and nasty spats at him. You lost your voice by the end of your rant, panting and heaving while sweat beaded your brow. He just stood there, taking everything in with a grain of salt.

“I understand, kitty. I really do. I should have been straightforward with my intentions.” He confessed.

The capture weapon around his neck snagged you the second you moved on the couch.

“Let daddy make it up to you. I'll make everything better for my pretty little kitty.”

It secured you to the sofa, keeping your legs spread and your hands behind your torso. On his knees in front of you, Shouta was ready to serve his apology with his tongue. Panties and sweatpants were ripped at the seams before being tossed aside.

He caressed your thigh with a delicate touch, pressing his lips to the other side. A kiss was pressed to your clit before long slow strokes of a hot tongue lavished it in attention. He kneaded your thighs gently all the while, humming as he began to alternate between licking and suckling on your sensitive nub.

Your head thrashed about in your binds as you shouted in protest.

“S-Stop it right now! Get off of me, dad!”

In a desperate plea, you hoped that hearing you call him dad would force him back into reality. Instead, he groaned and took a breath.

“Call me that again, kitty.”

A hot mouth sealed over your wet cunt as he dove his tongue between your folds while sucking with his lips. The pleasure was undeniable; his tongue was too experienced to ignore how his ministrations made you feel. Toes flexing and curling, you cried out of a mix of frustration, disgust, and humiliation as he continued to work at your dripping hole. This pig was getting off on the fact that he was fucking his daughter. It made your soul shatter all over again, the one he worked so hard to rebuild.

You continued to sob, moans now added to the mix, as he worked a finger inside of you. He made a curling motion after plunging in knuckle deep. A pleasured shout broke between your cries.

“I'll take it that’s your sweet spot, pretty girl? Good to know.”

He continued to abuse that spot, slowing down just a touch with his tongue to drag out the ride to the peak. Can't have you coming too fast, now can we? Your moans and whimpers spurred him on even more as he wiggled another finger inside you.

Removing his mouth, he focused on stretching and loosening up your tense body. You were lax when sleeping, so sliding in was a pinch with his size. But now he has to deal with you thrashing and struggling against his bonds. Disgust and pleasure churned together in your gut, feeling the incoming orgasm approaching hard and fast. Shouta felt you clench around his fingers and added a third, using his thumb to swipe your clit back and forth. With a final cry, you came on his fingers with a shout as your body convulsed in the capture weapon. You found what little peace you could in your short-lived post-nut clarity, taking a moment to breathe and center yourself.

Your father gave you no such chance to do so, immediately springing his cock free and rubbing the tip against your clit to gather your wetness. A chuckle sounded in his throat as he watched you twitch even more from the stimulation that was starting to border on being painful.

“Relax, kitty. Being tense won't do you any good.”

He slowly nudged his cock into your hole, groaning as he took his time bottoming out inside you. Praise spilled from his lips as he let you adjust, feeling your pussy clench tight around him. Good girl, good kitty. He shushed your sobs, smoothing the tears off of your face with the pads of his thumb. Murmurs of good girl and taking me so well slipped your senses. The pace he set was slow and deep, letting you feel every agonizing inch of his rather impressive dick.

Your flowing tears were kissed away as he proceeded to thrust faster and deeper. The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the room, even above your now weakened crying and whimpers. Sweat beaded on your brow plastered your hair to your forehead. His breath was warm against your cheek, his moans of pleasure so close to your ear forced you to stay in the moment.

Shouta swallowed your cute noises with a kiss, cupping and stroking your cheek with his right hand while his left pinned your hips down into the cushions. He did his best to stop your tears, pushing the hair off of your sweaty face. A few minutes passed filled with kisses, cries, and deep thrusts before he maneuvered you to be seated in his lap. Back pressed into the cushions, he lazily thrust up into you, hands grabbing your now bouncing ass. His thumb made its way back to your clit as he rubbed it in small circles, grinning at your cries of pleasure that you couldn't hold back. Dark brown eyes fluttered shut as he groaned and moaned proudly, increasing the speed of his thrusts as he felt himself getting closer and closer.

He usually lasted longer while you were sleeping; he does have quite a bit of stamina from his hero work. But something about seeing your flushed, torn face, hearing your whimpers and cries, he can't help but cum rather quickly for his own record. The pleasure was manifesting itself within you again, a second orgasm hitting you like a speeding truck as you gasped and choked for air at its intensity. Shouta was soon to follow, grunting and moaning loudly as he filled your cunt with his spend. He rode out both your orgasms, relishing in the silence between the two of you. It was better than hearing your broken, choked up wails.

It was wrong; he knew that. Breaking your trust, violating you, sabotaging your personal life, he couldn't help but be selfish with you. But he always knew what was best for you, always knew how to take care of you when you couldn't.

Foreheads pressed together, he caught your sagging body against him in a warm hug, stroking your hair when you started to sob uncontrollably.

“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”

#yandere shouta aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #yandere x reader #yandere

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autisticandroids · 3 years

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yknow those episodes where a character's whole personality gets split into 3-5 different distinct separate bodies? what bodies would cas have? I feel like it'd just be a mess tbh, imagine 5 different castiels all of them loving dean to a certain extent but showing it VASTLY differently. one cas would literally want to murder the others lmao

okay so i don’t actually think this trope would be an effective tool for analyzing cas? he’s not conflicted enough in himself. he’s too impulsive, too singleminded, too uninhibited. like, in the end, cas always ends up doing whatever he wants. there aren’t multiple discrete voices vying for control, really, or rather, if there are, one is always significantly stronger than the others. like in the end cas will always end up eating raw meat off the floor, you know? he’ll do what he wants. if i was going to do personality splitting i’d do it to someone intensely internally conflicted, like dean.

however, because i’m in an essay writing mood today, i’ll answer a question slightly to the left of the one you asked. cas may not be internally conflicted, but he is intensely changeable. these two things are related, actually; the same impulsivity and singlemindedness that mean he doesn’t have a ton of internal conflict at any given time mean that different ideas sound good to him at different times, because he isn’t really thinking about, say, what future-him will think of them. and he’s not really trying to maintain an image or identity. he’s just doing what feels right at the time, which is very different at different times and in different situations.

anyway, that in mind, i think a lot about ways to bring together many alternate versions of cas which sort of correspond to different times in the show.

i have a fic in my head about a bunch of cas-es pulled from alternate timelines by some kind of spell. so this would be set during the widower arc because the basic impulse here is to show dean a very bad time. just absolutely put him through hell. also, all the alternate timelines are different because different stuff happened, not because cas made different choices, because if we’re torturing dean it has to be like 5x04, the changes in cas can’t be cas’ fault. they have to be dean’s or just like, the universe’s (which makes them dean’s).

so dean is trying to bring cas back, and he finds some kind of spell that can bring someone “from another world.” and he tries it because hey. can’t hurt to try. anyway i’ve thought a long time about different versions of cas i would put in this and here is what i have. in order of when the timeline split off.

- a cas who never raised dean from hell. think 14x13 “lebanon.” this one i’m not too sure about, like, this could be fun, but i don’t know if it’s different enough from the next one. like this castiel would have lived through the averted apocalypse and subsequent general fuckery that happened as an angelic footsoldier, which would actually be pretty interesting now that i think about it, especially since all that stuff would have gone down soooooooo differently without cas specifically for your average angel footsoldier. like cas has PERSONALLY caused more upheaval in heaven in twelve years of spn than there seems to have been in millennia. so he would be the point of view of a normal footsoldier from a totally other world.

- a cas who died mid season four, and is pulled out of the empty in 2017 by this spell. i’m not sure when this cas died. my thoughts are (1) killed in on the head of a pin by alistair, (2) killed during his torture in the rapture, or (3) simply never resurrected after lucifer rising. (3) makes the most sense, but that cas has already thrown away everything for dean. i prefer the idea of a cas who loves dean, is already on the brink of disobedience for him, but has not yet taken the plunge. both on the head of a pin and the rapture are great places for this, and they both have strengths and weaknesses. if he died in the rapture, he was killed by heaven, which is fundamentally more fun, but he was also really very much over the edge already. if he died in on the head of a pin, he wasn’t killed by heaven, but he is perfectly teetering on the brink of falling for dean. regardless of when he died, the purpose of this cas is to be horrified at all the various and myriad ways he has destroyed and corrupted himself for dean in the other timelines.

- possibly endverse cas, who would have died in 2014, but like s4 cas, would have been pulled from the afterlife by the spell. i’m not so sure on this one. we as a society love endverse cas but i dunno what purpose he would serve. maybe endverse cas didn’t die in 2014, and instead was imprisoned by lucifer, because, you know. he’s the only brother lucifer has left. so he is very excited to see dean alive and well, since his dean is dead, and, not being an angel, cas can’t bring him back. the purpose of this cas would be to horrify dean that cas loves him and needs him so much, and to disgust the other cas-es with his neediness.

- a cas who was in some way on better terms with dean during s6. maybe dean and cas ride off into the sunset together after swan song instead of dean going to live with lisa, maybe dean prayed to cas while he was with lisa because he missed him, who knows. either way, cas has dean’s help with the angel revolution in season six from the start, and never goes to crowley. the plan cas and dean come up with to beat raphael includes breaking into the cage and stealing the grace of michael and lucifer, freeing sam and adam in the process. incidentally, it also involves cas possessing dean, because if cas is gonna eat archangel grace to become more powerful, he’s going to need a stronger vessel. so cas and dean have a whole like. midam situation happening. they’re a double archangel together, and godstiel never happened so none of the other terrible apocalypses that stemmed from that happened, and everything is pretty cool where they’re from, and also they’re obviously uhhhhhh SOME kind of together. the purpose of this cas is to upset dean because this cas shows how much better everything could have been and how much better his and cas’ relationship could have been if dean had simply been more considerate of cas in s6, and also freak dean out with how uh. close. this dean and cas are.

- a godstiel who managed to swallow purgatory without swallowing the leviathans and remained god. he’s probably soooomewhat less scary and murdery than canonverse godstiel because no leviathans, so you know, not as many angel purges or massacres on earth. and he probably went and fixed sam’s wall within about three days because cas is prideful but he does NOT like it when dean is mad at him. so they did kiss and make up, and so this cas would have had dean to act as his morality chain. but he’s still very scary and godstiel. and also he refers to dean as “The Beloved” you know. his purpose is to freak everyone out, because he’s scary, but also, for the past cas-es, because he is a terrifying abomination that they could never imagine becoming, for the future cas-es, because he is a reminder of their worst selves, and for dean, because he is a reminder of how dangerous cas is, but also because he uh. obviously has some feelings about his dean. unclear if they are consummated or not.

- a cas who naomi never rescued from purgatory, and who stayed there. hasn't spoken to another being in half a decade, has not recovered from his emotionally destroyed state in purgatory in s8. believes at first that the spell is his dean rescuing him, and is crushed when he realizes he was wrong. like endverse cas, his purpose is to show dean how much cas needs him and depends on him emotionally, and how he (dean) is capable of destroying cas, as well as his guilt for leaving him in purgatory and how lucky he is that his cas got out. this is especially noteworthy since the guilt for leaving cas in purgatory is part of the reason dean is trying to get cas back.

- a cas who stayed human after season nine, and has built himself a small human life over the next four years. he has a job and an apartment and friends outside the winchesters and yes, he still goes hunting after work sometimes, and he's still in contact with dean, but he is also independent in a way no other version of cas has ever been. he exists to freak out dean because dean has never seen cas independent of him. he is also fairly bitter at dean since dean did kind of stop spending time with him when he was no longer useful, and our dean feels guilty for that.

- a cas who showed up twenty minutes later in 10x03, finding sam dead and dean gone, and had to chase down demon dean, and has now spent three years following demon dean around as his tragically adoring stalker, because he hasn't found a way to resurrect sam yet and he doesn't want to put dean through the demon cure until he can save sam because he doesn't want dean to experience that guilt, but he also adores dean and wants to keep an eye on him and keep him safe and also keep him from doing anything too heinous, so he just covertly follows him around the country and watches from a distance as he commits various murders and fucks his way through every local bar scene. and occasionally cas finds dean something to kill, when the mark gets hungry, and drops it in his path. his purpose is to freak dean out with the lengths cas would go for him, and the depths cas would sink to.

anyway. lebanon cas and season four cas are horrified and perhaps disgusted (lebanon cas more than s4 cas) by ALL of the later cas-es, and how far they’re fallen, all of it for dean. godstiel and archangel cas being abominations, endverse cas and s9 cas being fallen, even purgatory cas and demon dean’s cas for their total dependence on dean.

purgatory cas and endverse cas are just happy to see a dean, even if it’s not their dean. demon dean’s cas, too, in a way. he’s happy to see a dean who is still human, who he can still have as a friend.

human cas is pissed to see that he was right, that dean would have stuck by him if he’d still had his powers, that this version of dean is doing spells to try and bring his cas, who is still an angel, back, whereas he and his dean only see each other once every couple months.

everyone is terrified and disgusted by godstiel, as i said before.

they’re mostly kind of thrown by archangel cas. a lot of them are jealous. godstiel is furious because how dare anyone, even an alternate version of himself, take dean as a vessel (even if dean likes it). godstiel isn’t really there, though, he resisted the summoning and just sort of popped his head through to see what was going on, and he goes back to his own reality pretty fast without murdering anyone.

also to be clear dean has not at this point examined or acknowledged any feelings he may have about his cas besides “friendship,” nor has he wondered what feelings his cas may have for him. given how many of the cas-es were clearly in some kind of relationship with their dean (endverse cas, archangel cas) or just openly in love with their dean (godstiel, purgatory cas, demon dean’s cas), dean is forced to reevaluate the nature of his and cas’ relationship.

#spn #asks #anonymous

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forever-rogue · 3 years

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In Name Only - Part 18

A/N: Hello, my loves! I hope you enjoy this next little part of our story! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: language, period typical misogyny, description of violence, smut (18+ only)

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

The journey to Honeyholt was a solitary, quiet thing. It was almost too quiet and allotted for far too much time to think. The more you thought about it all, the more you realized how rash and impulsive your decision was. Oberyn would be furious; but he would understand, right? He had to - you were doing this to help avenge him. Admittedly, your plan wasn’t even fully formed at this point, half formed at best - all you knew was that you had to give your family a piece of your mind. You’d lived your whole life getting pushed around and left in the shadows, and you weren’t willing to do it any longer. Oberyn and the Martells - Dorne - were your family now, and you would be cold and in your own grave before you’d let something happen to them.

You weren’t exactly sure what you would do when you made your arrival back at your childhood home; that much you still had to figure out. Improvisation would have to be your friend, and you prayed to the gods, old and new, that you would be able to pull something off. Whatever that something was, you weren’t sure yet. But it would be something; the sins of your family would not go unpunished.

“Unbowed, unbent, unbroken,” you whispered to yourself as you slowly approached Honeyholt. You offered your mare a few gentle pets as she slowed her trotting; she made a small sound almost as if trying to convince you that your actions were foolish. Too bad you’d already known that, “I know, girl. But I have to do something, anything. Oberyn would do the same for me. He will understand - if not now, eventually he will.”

The soft, sweet scents of the region soon reached you as you took in a breath of fresh air. All the best of your childhood suddenly reached you, and you realized just how much you truly loved the Reach, especially Honeyholt. It was a beautiful, lush land, covered with lots of greenery and flowers and animals. Almost magical in some ways; so different from your current home, but that did not take away from the beauty of Dorne either. Two places that managed to be amazing in their own ways, coexisting in peace. Just like you hoped your families would.

But it was too late for that now. Your brother had made sure of that.

“This is as much for him as it is for me,” you explained quietly, almost as if you hoped she would speak back to you. Maybe it was the tiredness or delusion from traveling for the past two days on horseback by yourself. Maybe it was the need for reassurance that your actions weren’t completely off the mark. Maybe it was you trying to convince yourself that what you were doing was justified, “I have to protect him at any cost.”

As you approached the castle, one that looked so welcoming and warming if one didn’t know better, your stomach started to churn. There had been so many years of happiness here, when your father was alive and lord of the place, but it had quickly turned so much darker once he passed and power transferred to your brother. Maybe it wasn’t the place itself that provided happiness, but the people in it that made it a home. That’s what it was - it wasn’t the castle or Honeyholt that was home, it had been your father, and the other kind people that had lived there. Just like Dorne - sure, it was home, but it was Oberyn and the rest of the family that made it warm and inviting.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you heard soft, gentle buzzing in the distance. A tell-tale sign that you were in Honeyholt - the bees that the region was famous for were hard at work producing their delicious honey. You’d grown up with the sounds and smells, and in a way, it set your soul at ease. This was familiar - comfortable.

Once the path narrowed and you were within walking distance from the castle, you slowly slid off your mare and took her reins in hand, letting her walk next to your side. After so much riding, your legs felt like jelly, and you almost stumbled over your own feet. Petting her muzzle, you offered her a kiss to the side of her head as she followed you closely behind. The familiar sounds of people working around the castle reached your ears as you walked towards the main entrance. But before you could go further, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you realized that any chance for a quiet entrance was officially ruined. As soon as one person was aware of your presence, word spread around like a wildfire. There was no hiding anything in this type of circumstance; your whole family would know you were here.

Turning your around, your golden cape swirled behind you as you plastered on the best smile you could muster up. Sarvon approached you as he wiped off his hands on a rag he quickly tossed over his shoulder. A sense of regret ran through you; he was a few years older than you and had always been nothing kind - you’d always considered him a friend. He was handsome in a typical sense, tall and lanky, with a kind smile and fair hair and eyes, so different from what you were used to these days.

“Well, well, well, look who came back to see us all,” he held out his hand to you, which you eagerly shook you. If it was possible at all, a bit of your nerves seemed to settle down, “Lady Martell. How are you doing?”

“Sarvon,” you smiled fondly at him, “I’m...well. How are you faring? You look well - I trust everything is much the same?”

“Just the same as ever,” he agreed with a small smile, “but there are some good news - I am to be married within the year! You remember Yennefer? I’ve been courting her and she’s agreed to be my wife!”

“That is most exciting indeed,” you threw your arms around him, feeling a true sense of happiness. He had always been kind and gentle, and he deserved the happiness of a new marriage, “she’s a lovely woman, and I’m sure she’ll make a most wonderful wife. Someone to finally keep you in check!”

“That she will,” he agreed as a light flush rose up in his cheeks, “can I take her for and get her to the stables? What brings you back to Honeyholt, if I may ask?”

“Of course, and thank you,” you held out the reins to him, “I just...wanted to see my brothers, and my mother. I couldn’t stand being away from them for another moment.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you too,” he agreed, “it’s always a welcome surprise to see you. Dare I ask you if you come to bring us good news?”

“Oh,” your smile faltered for just a moment as you knew exactly what he was hinting at, “I’m afraid not. I suppose I just missed my family!”

“Of course,” he agreed, starting to lead your mare away, “I’ll announce your arrival. I believe Lord Beesbury is in his study.”

“Thank you, Sarvon,” you offered him a small nod, “you’ve been most helpful as always.”

Before he could say anything else, you turned and walked towards the entrance, walking in under the large stone arches. This was it; whatever plan you were going to concoct, you needed to come with it fast.

A few more people excitedly greeted you, surprised by your very sudden and unannounced arrival. It was still early in the morning, and you were positive you were positive that you looked as disheveled and tired as you felt. Deciding not to indulge any of them in conversation, you gave them curt nods, marching through your former home towards the study that had once been your father’s sanctuary. Even as you approached it now, it felt different; more cold and uninviting than it ever had. What was once filled with light and laughter was now quiet and daunting.

But nonetheless, you steeled your resolve and reminded yourself that you were a strong, independent woman, and that this was what you needed to do. The dagger strapped to your thigh suddenly felt like it was made of ice rather than steel, a million pounds heavy as it weighed you down.

When you reached the heavy doors, you didn’t even bother to knock or announce your presence, instead pushing them open and barging in. Your brother dropped the scrolls he was reading as he looked up in shock and awe at the sudden intrusion. His face seemed to shift through a hundred different emotions as he tried to figure out why you were possibly there. Eaton let out a long breath as he leaned back in his chair and a smirk grew on his face. You knew exactly why it was there; it was the same reason you were there.

“My dear, lovely sister,” his voice was laced with venom as you walked up to his bureau, already seething with anger, “what a surprise, although I can’t say it’s a pleasant one. I’m shocked to see your face again...I believe the last thing you said to me was ‘if I ever see you again, it will be on your deathbed.’ And yet...here you are.”

“You know why I’m here,” you spat at him, “you vile, foul, loathsome little cockroach.”

“There’s that attitude that we all love so very much,” he laughed lightly, but there was no happiness to it, “and look at you know. I see you’ve taken to Dorne well, dressing and acting just like those savages. Sending you there was the best decision we’ve ever made.”

“You dare to speak of my home - my people - in such a manner?” your eyes narrowed as you shook your head at him. He would never change, “you have some nerve for a pathetic excuse of a man that won’t even tend to his people and remains in his study all day. You are worth nothing, you are a shame and a disgrace to our father - our name. At least my husband - “

“Your husband,” he spat as you felt your blood pump, “yes, your weak, pathetic fool of a husband. I had the pleasure of meeting him as you well know. He’s about what you deserve, old, foolish, a whore of a man that will never love you. I’m sure things are going quite well - he can’t even get you with child from the looks of it. What a shame; it seemed to work for all his bastards. Perhaps it’s just you. How absolutely tragic - just what you always deserved-”

“Stop speaking,” your anger and gusto had quickly turned to a feeling of deep remorse, muddled with anger, “y-you have no clue what you speak of. You know nothing-”

“I did try to do you a favor, baby sister,” his lips were curled in a snarl as his wicked grin displayed his full teeth, just like a predator ready to take down his prey, “I did try to kill him. And I would have done it too, if it hadn't been for his little right hand man. He had to stop me just before I could finish him off. You know, part of me was glad he survived; I figured he would die a more slow and painful death at your hand. Imagine my disappointment when I heard that Prince Oberyn, the savage beast of Dorne, survived.”

“He barely survived,” your eyes were burning with the tears you were struggling to hold back, “he was on the verge of death - i-it took everything possible to keep alive, Eaton. I was never more scared...I thought I had lost him.”

“And you should have been happy.”

“I would rather die than to live a day without him,” you practically shouted at him, your voice crackling with each word, “he is my husband and I love him. He is everything to me!”

“Love? You are such a silly, pathetic little child,” his dark laughter reverberated off the stone walls, “you have learned nothing - you will never know anything. Life isn’t about love-”

“Yes,” you interrupted him, “love is everything. Father knew that too; it’s a shame you never learned that. I love Oberyn Martell, he is my husband, my family, my home. And I will never let you do anything to him, or any other part of my family.”

“They’re not your family-”

“They are more my family than you ever will be,” you insisted, “all Oberyn did was try to come here and make amends, to try to instill a sense of peace for everyone - for me. Because he loves me and cares about me. He held no ill intent for you, and still doesn’t - he wants to do nothing to you, despite what you had done to him. He just wants peace, and you couldn’t even give him that much.”

“You think he has your best interests in mind?” he scoffed, “he doesn’t care about you! He only wants to make himself look good. He will never love you - no one will ever love you!

"He loves me!"

"He doesn't love you!" you were both yelling at each other but by this point, "Waylar never did either. But look what you did to him, you caused his death and for what? Your feelings? And you almost did the same to your husband. You need to learn that love isn't a real thing and that in this game you survive and adapt or die."

"You are so hateful," you slowly reached for the dagger, ready to pull it out and wield it at him, "your heart has turned to stone. What a shame; we grew up with a lot of love from father but you never learned. I know it's real - not fake - and I will make sure everyone knows. I will make sure my husband knows how much I love him, my children, my family - everyone. I will never end up like you and I couldn't be more thankful than that."

"You will live and die a fool-"

"And you will die as a hateful, spiteful man," you pulled out the dagger and displayed it to him, watching as his eyes grew wide in worry. You had sneaked incredibly close to him and the dagger was mere inches from his throat. It would have been easy to end it all then and there, "you recognize this, don't you?"

"Where did you get that?" he swallowed and you could see his Adam's apple bobbing, "it belongs to me!"

“No,” you insisted with a wicked smile of your own, “it doesn’t. It’s mine, by rightful inheritance. Father gave it to me several years ago before he died.”

“It has belonged to every head of this family for centuries!”

“Until now,” you reminded him, letting the beautiful steel glint brilliantly in the morning light, “now it’s mine. And it stays with me - and I promise you one more thing, dear brother. This blade will be the last thing on your mind as I kill you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” his eyes were wide with worry as you kept the blade drawn and ready to strike at any second as you walked around the desk and stood in front of him. Pressing the blade into his flesh, you dug it in just enough to draw a thick trickle of blood, “you’re making a grave mistake.”

“Oh no, I’m not,” you insisted, making your voice sticky sweet with honey, “I’m not making a mistake at all. It’s not so funny when it’s the other way around, is it Lord Beesbury? Imagine how it felt for Oberyn as you stabbed him, as you inflicted would be deadly wounds. Don’t you think he felt the same way? And what did he do to you? Nothing. He didn’t deserve any of this. But you? You deserve this because you have done horrible things, Eaton. You don’t deserve compassion or mercy.”

“When they find what you’ve done, they’ll have you too flayed like the Boltons would.”

“Oh no,” you shook your head, “I won’t be caught for this. And even if it was discovered to be me, they would thank me.”

“You are a horrible, insistent bitch-”

“You almost took my husband from me - the one man that has loved me unconditionally. The man that would do anything for me - my family. I will be damned if I let you ever harm so much as a hair on his head. You will never harm him, my children, my family, any one I care about ever again. You’ve set up your own downfall, and I will be your executioner. You know the best part of all? I don’t regret a single thing.”

Slowly dragging the blade down the column of his throat, you let it stop just at his heart. It was so close, just within reach. All you had to do was plunge it into his chest and he would be dead. Just like he had wanted Oberyn to be.

So close, almost there...all you need to do was sink it into this flesh. You felt wild, almost like a mad woman - but everything you had been wanting was right in front of you.

Just a little further, a little harder and it would all be done...

"Stop!" the familiar voice pulled you out of your daze as your chest rose and fell in a hectic, chaotic pattern. Nothing made sense right now - only vengeance and redemption - blood, "don't do this. You will regret it every single day of your life. And I can't let you live like that."

The two of you turned and found Oberyn Martell standing in the doorway, looking at the two of you with the most neutral expression you had ever seen; a true and collected negotiator. Your surprise turned to shock as you stared at your husband. He wasn’t supposed to be here, he wasn’t supposed to know about this. The dagger shook in your hand for a moment as Eaton swallowed thickly.

“O-Oberyn,” you were between a rock and a hard place; you could easily have plunged the dagger and ended this, giving yourself a sense of satisfaction and vengeance. But if you did so, you would directly be going against Oberyn’s wishes. He didn’t want this but you did...you were almost positive of it. A strangled cry left your lips as you found yourself between a rock and a hard place, “you’re not supposed to be here!”

“And neither are you,” he took a few steps closer as he regarded the two of you curiously. He was very pointedly trying to keep the situation calm and diffused, “you don’t belong here, my love. This isn’t your home - come with me and we’ll go home. You don’t need to do this, he isn’t worth it.”

“Oberyn, he tried to kill you! He would have done it if he’d gotten the chance - he hoped you would die a slow painful death after you escaped. He loathes you, and for what?! You have done nothing but be kind and he’s a horrible, vile person! He doesn’t deserve my mercy or anything,” tears were running down your cheeks as you tried to rationalize everything to yourself, “what if he had taken you from me? I-I-I won’t let anything happen to you, ever, Oberyn. He deserves this!”

“That may be so, but you should not be his executioner,” he had come closer and closer until he was standing next to you, a hand tentatively wrapping around your wrist, “you do not deserve to live with such a thing on your conscience. Fate will be his undoing. Not you.”

“What if…”

“Don’t do this,” he insisted, as your brother looked around wildly, trying to figure out what was going on, but very aware that any wrong move, accidental or intended, would kill him, “you will never forgive yourself. Anything you would do to him would be too kind. But please, spare yourself the heartbreak and let him go. I’m right here, I’m okay - nothing will ever happen to me or take me from you. Not in this life or the next.”

“Oberyn,” his name was but a shaky whisper off your lips as you met his soft, brown eyes, “I-I just...I love you, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you, more than anything,” he slowly started to pull your wrist and dagger away from Eaton's throat, “that’s why I’m here - why I’m insisting you don’t do this. Please don't do this - for my sake and your sake. Just stop and come home with me. To our home - our family."

"Oberyn…"

"Come on, my Sunshine. Its not worth it. He is not worth a lifetime of regret," without even thinking about it, you let him pull your hand away as he carefully pulled the dagger out of your hand, "its okay, my love. It's okay."

Turning your attention away from Eaton's face, you looked at Oberyn and saw that he was just as emotional as you. He tucked the dagger into his waist belt before putting his hands on your face and wiping your tears away, "I-I'm sorry, my love. I thought...I thought this was the right thing to do."

"I know," he promised as he wrapped his arms around you and held you to his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you started to weep into his chest without abandon, "its okay."

Eaton watched the two of you with confusion on his face; whatever was going on, he knew he was safe for now. Clutching at his throat, he wiped away the blood that had oozed down his neck. A small sound of surprise escaped his lips at the burn.

"You," Oberyn turned to your brother with a look of disgust etched into his features, "you will say nothing of this to anyone, or I will personally finish what she started. You will never contact her again, and she will never contact you again. This is over - it ends now. And if I get even so much as a whiff of you in Dorne or anywhere near us, I will make sure you suffer. The Boltons aren’t the only ones who know how to flay a body. Do I make myself clear, boy?”

Eaton was so stunned, stunned into silence as he merely nodded at the Dornish Prince. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he fell short of words and watched in silence as Oneryn took your hand and slowly led you out of the study. The young lord hissed slightly at the burning sensation on the delicate flesh of his throat. It had all seemed like a fever dream; but the scar that your actions had been sure to leave were most definitely a reality. He collapsed in his stiff wooden chair, a faux throne for a great pretender, and held his head in his hands. Maybe he should have reconsidered crossing the Red Viper - and you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn remained silent as he tightly clutched onto your hand and led you out of the castle. Only a few rushed words were said, but no one dared to approach either of you. If word of your arrival had gotten around, either no one cared enough to greet you, or they were all scared. But Oberyn was fast on his feet and had the two of you out of there before you could protest or make any sort of comment. Tears were liberally rolling down your cheeks in thick, fat droplets and splattering onto your gown and all the over the ground.

He must have gotten there in a rush and quickly put the pieces together as his steed was wildly saddled just outside the gates. You saw Sarvon rush over with your own mare, almost as if he had been roped into aiding the Prince. Silently, he took the reins to the small mare and helped you to climb onto her back before repeating the same to his stead.

Quietly thanking the young man for his assistance, he said nothing to you before reaching into the saddlebags and handing you a flask of water and some fruit. At least the man was smart enough to know you’d be starving and parched. You took them with quiet ease, too embarrassed and confounded to say anything.

He led the way in silence for some time, still checking to make sure you were closely following him. The tension settling between the two of you was thick and palpable; it wasn't angry per se, but it certainly wasn't good. A few times you had wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, but found yourself unable. Instead, you remained silent and studied the back of Oberyn’s head to try and get a read on him. It didn’t work; the Prince was good at hiding his true feelings when he needed to.

“There’s a tavern a few miles ahead,” he said quietly after a long bout of silent; it had been morning you’d left Honeyholt and now dusk was starting to fall, “we’ll stay there for the evening and then continue on tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” was the only response you could muster up. He hadn’t even turned to look at you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The tavern was a small, quiet place, quaint and warm, and if you hadn’t been worried about the nerves churning out butterflies in your stomach, you would have been excited to rest there. Oberyn had handled business while you made your way to your temporary lodgings. As soon as you’d entered the room, a low sigh escaped your lips. Turning to the aged looking glass, you could see that you were an absolute sight to behold; hair wild and mussed, tired, bloodshot eyes, and ragged looking clothes. Luckily, there was a tub waiting with hot water in the adjoining room and you were halfway to slipping off your clothes when Oberyn came back into the room.

He offered you a nod of acknowledgment before sitting at the edge of the bed and watching you closely, his arms crossing over his broad chest.

“Go on,” he offered up, raising an eyebrow before looking between you and the wooden tub. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stripped the remainder of your clothes before sinking into the warm water and letting out a long sigh at the feel of the warm water against your skin. It was the most relief you’d left in days, “better?”

“Yes,” you admitted as you grabbed a cloth to start washing your tired body, "thank you.”

“I brought clean clothes,” he continued; his voice was so slow and neutral, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, “and they will bring up some food. I presume you might be tired and hungry,”

“Mhmm,” his calm demeanor was almost more unnerving than anything else, and you wished he would yell at you. At least then you would know his true feelings.

It was silent for some time before anything happened as the two of you had just stared at one another. Oberyn ended up stripping off his own outer robe and remained only in his trousers as he washed his face in a small basin. Finding it impossible to complete even the simple task of washing your hair, you finally gave in and broke down, “Oberyn? Are you ever going to talk to me again?”

“I thought I had been.”

“You know what I mean,” you made swift work of washing the soap from your body before wringing your hair, “you’ve hardly said more than a few words to me. It isn’t like you.”

“What do you want me to say?” his hands found his hips as he looked at you in question, You were taken aback at his short, snappy response, but at least it was something other than complete emptiness.

“Say you’re angry with me, that you’ll never forgive me or...something.”

“Of course I’m angry,” he said as you reached for the towel as you stood up and wrapped it around your now clean form, “I am beyond livid - furious - do you have any clue as to what could have happened if I hadn’t shown up? Do you have any clue as to how worried sick I was? Every horrible, wicked thought possible went through my mind!”

“Will you ever forgive me?”

“It’s not up to me to forgive you...the question is whether you forgive yourself,” with a heavy sigh, he sat back on the bed and you timidly walked over to him, “you could have been hurt.”

“But I wasn’t…”

“Luckily - this time,” he cut you off sharply as your lips formed a thin line and you willed yourself not to argue back, “but it was still a huge risk - a very uncalculated risk! One wrong move and you could have been hurt, or worse - killed. And what good would that have been? It would have been for naught.”

“I had to do something! You were going to do nothing!” you insisted, unable to keep your silence. While your husband may have had valid points, you wanted him to know you felt just as strongly about your own views, “Oberyn, he is a foul, horrible person! He wanted to kill you, he hoped you would die, and the worst part of all was that he didn’t regret anything. He laughed about, made a mockery out of you and myself. He deserved everything he got and worse!”

“Would you have done it?” how he managed to keep calm was beyond you. He simply looked at you, his breathing even and his eyes full of curiosity as you stood in front of him, wildly flailing while wrapped up in your towel, “would you have killed him?”

“I...I…” his simple question felt like it had punched the air out of your lungs as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, “I would…”

“Do you really think you could have plunged that dagger into his heart, through skin and muscle and bone, and killed him? Do you think you could have watched the life leave his eyes as he took his last breath?”

“I…”

“Killing is not as simple as you think, you sweet, innocent girl. It takes a lot to end someone’s life,” he explained as you stared at your feet, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes, “it is not something to take lightly - I have never taken it likely. I have killed many men, but only those who have deserved it.”

“He deserved it.”

“That may be so, but it’s not up to you to decide that,” Oberyn let out a long sigh as he held out his hand to you, “you do not deserve to be left with such a thing on your conscience. You are much too good for something like that; do not let one man, however terrible he may be, take away your light. He will get what he deserves, everyone always does, and it will be much crueler than anything you could do. Leave him to fate, to the gods, to the universe. He is not a part of your life any longer - you will never have to see or speak to him again. He has built his own bed and he will reap what he sows. But you? You are too kind, too pure, too innocent for such darkness. You are of a different kind than he is; do not let him drag you down to his level for a few moments of the idea of vengeance. It will not be worth it. Never.”

“The things he said...they were horrible, my love,” you took his hand, and let him pull you towards him, so you were standing in front of him. Oberyn stroked the back of your hand, almost absentmindedly as you ran your free hand through his curls, “I have never heard such horrid, loathsome things before - against me, you, our family. He...he said you didn’t love me, that you would never love me. It was all a lie and that I was just meant to go to you and give you children.”

“You know absolutely none of that is true,” he insisted as you nodded, letting a few tears run down your cheeks, “and he knows he is wrong. He says these things because he is jealous, because he will never have them. He is cold as steel and has closed off his heart, and he will never love or learn to be loved. But that does not mean what we have isn’t real. I love you more than you will ever know. I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you, every day.”

“I know you do,” you whispered as he stood up and pulled you into his body, wiping away your tears, “I know what we have is real...it’s just...I don’t know. I was acting rashly, and I just couldn’t handle the idea of someone hurting you, hurting the one person I love the most, and getting away with it.”

“You will never lose me,” he whispered as he traced over your features, “it’s because of you I’m still alive; you stood by my side every minute of every hour for days. Without you, I don’t think I could have made it. You must know that I’m not the only one with the world to lose. When Asha told me of your plans, I thought I was going to lose everything, I was worried. Yes, I am mad - mad that you directly defied what I asked of you, you lied and sneaked out of Sunspear, you went completely and held a knife to a man’s throat.”

“When you put it like that…”

“Truthfully?’

“Yes, I suppose.”

“You are still so young, with so much to learn,” he put a finger to your lips before you could say anything else, “I will teach everything I can, you will learn, in time. But sometimes you must learn to trust others - me. I would never do anything to hold you back, or do anything that wasn’t in your best interest. You know that right?”

“I do,” you admitted, “I suppose I was so caught up with the idea that if I had to suffer, so did he…”

“What a world it would be if everyone thought like that, no?”

“Is that why you’re a Prince, my love? Because you’re so wise and smart?”

“Because I was born lucky. The rest I’ve learned over the years, as you will,” he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his, “it takes time, but you will get there, and I will be there every step of the way.”

“I love you,” was all you managed to whisper as you stared back into his eyes, “Oberyn.”

“I love you,” he repeated, “don’t ever do anything like this again, okay? Next time I might not be there, or things can go very differently. It’s not worth it.”

“I promise,” you agreed as he gently kissed your lips, “never again. I'm sorry I worried you, just...please don't ever leave me. I'm sorry."

"Its okay," he nodded at you, and you felt a warmth pool in your belly at the way he observed you - with reverence, devotion, and adoration, "I'm not going anywhere."

Unable to stop yourself, you brought a hand to the top of your towel where it was barely hanging on. Undoing the weak knot, you let it fall to the wooden floor with a delicate thought as you stared at him. Your whole body flushed under his intent gaze, but it was only mere seconds before he wrapped his arms around your waist, his touch warm and brazen on your bare skin.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you crashed your lips onto his, kissing him with a fervent intensity that he easily matched. There was nothing soft or gentle about this, it was a rushed tangle of tongue and teeth as you battled for dominance. But you were no match for Oberyn, a man experienced in life and love, as gripped the back of your neck and held you close to his lips.

Your hands went to the waistband of his trousers as you tried to rip them off as quickly as possible. You wanted and needed him now. His hands found yours as he helped you to undo the trousers and push them to the ground. Oberyn's lips barely left yours as he stepped out of them and he reached for you again. His hands found your bum as he gave it a firm squeeze and you moaned into his mouth. You could feel him smirking against your lips.

"Oberyn," his name was a reverent whisper off your lips as he kissed along your jaw and nipped at the delicate skin of your throat as he did his best to ensure that there would be marks for everyone to see, "please...need you."

"Mhmm," he backed you up against the wall, gently so you didn't hit your back or head too hard. Warm, calloused but gentle hands roamed your body as he touched over every part of you he could reach. His hands were on your breasts, massaging them and rolling your pert nipples as you tried not to completely lose it - not just yet.

You kissed every part of him you could reach, relishing in his soft, golden skin. He snaked hand between your bodies and down to your core, where he started to circle your clit after running his fingers through your soaked folds. It hadn't taken much to get ready for him today.

"All for me?" he rasped in your ear as all you could do was nod and bite on your lip to keep from crying out. He kept touching you, working you up and slowly inserting two fingers, expertly curling them and causing you to see stars. Burying your face into his shoulder, your legs started to feel weak and shaky as you almost reached your high. But before he went any further, he ceased all his ministrations and pulled his hand away.

"Oberyn!" you huffed at him as he bought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean. That was enough to silence you completely as you watched him in awe, "oh."

"Sweeter than the finest fruit," he smirked before taking his cock in his hand and stroking his length a few times, "my sweet girl, you drive me wild with worry and wonder sometimes."

"Only because I love you," you instinctively spread your legs slightly to make room for him. Lining himself up at your entrance, it was a few seconds before he was fully sheathed inside of you. You moaned at the feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly as he took the opportunity to kiss you.

He wasted no time in thrusting into you, slowly at first, but then quickly setting a brutal pace as he tightly gripped your hips. It was almost as though something inside him had snapped he needed you desperately. Soon, the room was filled with nothing but your combined moans, the lewd sounds of skin on skin, and your back lightly hitting the wall. You were almost positive that anyone near you would be able to hear but was going on but it didn't stop either of you.

Before too long, your walls started to clench around him as his cock twitched within you. Unable to form proper words, you came with a cry around him and he offered you a few more shallow thrusts before spilling inside of you.

He held you pinned against the wall for a few moments as you both came down from your highs. You pushed a stray curl from his forehead before he pressed a kiss to your lips.

"I love you," you offered up as a sort of all encompassing apology as you studied your husband's face.

"I know," he agreed as he touched your cheek, "I love you. Now, let's get some rest, Sunshine. We still have a lot to talk about later."

Maybe you'd made a rash and horrible decision; but at least you knew his love for you was truly unconditional.

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x fem!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #in name only #ino

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f1nalboys · 3 years

Text

Anon asked:

Hi I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the slashers finding child reader and seeing some marks on their bodies that means they've been abused by their guardian or parent? And maybe slashers being the reader's new guardian and parent? You can add fluff in this if you like.

Hi, thank you sm for the request! I had such a good time writing this lol, just imagining some of them as parents was *chefs kiss* I hope you enjoy this! (And, if you or anyone reading this is dealing with abuse, please call or text the hotline * and remember you are strong, brave, and do not deserve what is happening. <3 )

*This hoteline is only for the U.S states and Canada, but please don’t be afraid to search up the hotline for where you are or to tell someone you trust!

WARNINGS: implication of abuse

MICHAEL (RZ)

‘What is this gremlin and why are they around me?’

Honestly would be treating you like a pest as a first instinct, he doesn't really get why you're around him in the first place like where are your parents…

I mean once he loses you he's gonna follow you around because he needs to know who you belong to lol

During his little stalking hours he starts to recognise his own behavior that he exhibited in his childhood to yours and he gets this sick feeling in his stomach

When he sees your guardian he is immediately filled with rage because he knows exactly why you're doing the things you were

He is killing whoever it is that very night he doesnt care whos around of the chances of him being caught

There’s a 50/50 chance of him taking you in himself. I really think it’ll depend on your age and how you act, you know? Michael isn’t going to want to or be able to take care of a toddler or kid in a way he sees fit so he's just going to drop you off at a neighbors house

Now if you’re older and more reserved/independent he might be more willing to watch over you but I still think it would be really hard for him to do so

As long as you’re in Haddonfield though he’ll be checking in on you and just making sure you're alright and safe

Boogieman got your back basically

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

‘Why is this unattended child out at night and why are they hanging out around us?’

They’re psychopaths not assholes, they’re gonna try and help you lol

They’re surprisingly good with kids, especially Stu, so you’re immediately comfortable around them

Billy is the first to notice your behavior and any bruises and immediately connects the dots. He’s had his fair share of bruises and knows exactly how you got them

Once he starts asking questions, Stu will catch on and get just as mad as Billy, if not more so.

They both have already come to the same conclusion: whoever did it to you is not going to be surviving the night

Take you to Stu’s parents house (who welcome you with open arms and doted on you) and leave for an ‘errand’

Gone for a few hours and when they come back (they made sure to stop and get you some snacks) they let you know that you're safe now

When they take you to the police station in the morning they promise to make sure you’re alright and Stus parents offer to foster you (they’re going to adopt you don’t worry)

Big brother Stu and Uncle Billy :,)

Thomas Hewitt

Personally I think they have a strict no children policy (they’ll kill them if need be but they try to make sure it never comes to that) but Tommy and Luda Mae are very strict enforcers of this rule because if Hoyt had his way it wouldn’t matter what age you were; food is food

The moment Thomas sees you being hurt in any capacity he is going straight to his mother to tell her and lets just say Luda Mae is pissed

Thomas becomes a protective older brother to you, Luda Mae is acting like your mom, and Hoyts your weird Uncle but Tommy make sure he isn’t too harsh on you lol

Your abuser is staying alive until Thomas knows exactly what they did to you because he’s going to return it tenfold

Hoyt would bug you about getting revenge but Tommy really wouldn't want you to do so because you’re a kid, you shouldnt be exposed to that sort of thing (he knows eventually you’ll have to learn about the family business but he wants to stop that from happening for as long as possible)

If you say you want to, though, he’ll be with you every step of the way

He is going to teach you sign language you don’t know it because he wants to talk to you and let you know everything is alright now

Found family at its core babey

Sinclair Brothers

Lesters the first one who notices. He saw what happened with Bo growing up and seeing how you were acting when you were in the car, shrinking into yourself, he got angry

And when Lester is angry, he is angry… the man is hard to piss off so when Bo sees him pull into town with you in there and sees his face he knows something happened

God, speaking of Bo, he was furious. It took so much willpower to not kill your abuser right then and there

Bo is good with kids, i don't care what anyone says, he’s cracking jokes and letting them look at the car’s engine with him, stuff like that

Made sure you didn’t see or hear what happened with your abuser but will introduce you to Vincent (who might be more inclined to show you his face if you think his mask is scary) and he lets Vincent know that these people aren’t to become statues under any circumstance

He tells you the people you were with left and that they apologized for what they did and he doesn’t think you believe him but you seemed so relieved he didn’t want to tell you the truth

Most likely to take you to the next town over to the police station to get you somewhere safe because he and Vincent agreed that it wouldn't be safe for you in Ambrose

But if you begged enough to stay Vincent would convince Bo that it’d be alright

No matter how much Bo grumbles about you being there, eating him out of house and home, he’s actually pretty happy you're around because he can be a father figure to you (even if it scares him half to death)

Vincent will teach you how to sculpt (obviously not with humans, maybe when you're older if they ever tell you (or when you inevitably find out))

Cool Uncle Lester teaches you about bones and lets you ride around in the truck with him

Jason Voorhees

Witnesses it during his daily rounds around the camp and neither he (or Mrs. Voorhees) is happy

Kills them then and there; there is 0 hesitation, he lowkey forgets you're even there and that you’re witnessing it

When he notices you he feels so bad and actually feels worse when you seem to be happy they’re gone

Is afraid you're going to be scared of him because all he wanted to do was protect you but he’ll try and explain to you through sign language or through writing into the dirt with a stick

Actually wants you to stay in the camp with him so he can watch over you but has no hard feelings about you going back to civilization (he doesn’t even know how he’d be as a father)

Obviously he can't go and drop you off somewhere because he’s literally s zombie lol but he will go as far as he can to make sure you get somewhere safely

Worries about you even weeks after you’ve left, like how are you doing? Are you with someone trustworthy? Do you remember him?

If you stay, however, he is gonna be the best god damn dad ever, if not a bit overprotective

You’re not allowed to leave the designated area he’s ropped off outside of the cabin because god forbid some campers stumble across you

Tiffany Valentine

We all know my wife has no qualms about killing kids but she’s way too sympathetic once she figures out what's going on with you

Meet your new goth mom! She’s great!

She is the most qualified out of all of the slashers to take care of a kid regardless of the age (I mean, remember Glen/Glenda and how accepting she was? How much she cares for her kid?)

She’s killing your abuser without a single care in the world, she’s not wasting any time either. She lets you know you’re safe with her and that nothing will ever hurt you again

Get ready to be pampered; she is treating you to everything you could ever want. You won’t be spoiled, of course, but you’re going to be comfortable

You will be the most well-adjusted kid being taken care of by a slasher (maybe losing to Billy and Stu but that’s just because of Stu’s parents) so congrats for that!

#slashers #slasher headcanons #child!reader #jason voorhees #michael myers #billy loomis #stu macher #tiffany valentine #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #found family lets go #horror movies #horror movie villians #s1mping4slashers works #s1mping4slashers writing #s1mping4slashers masterlist #anon req

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

coral roses. (m)

dialogue prompt #2: “If you won't do it then I'll”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationship, smut, pwp(?), fluff

word count: 1,414

warnings: making out, unprotected sex (more like a quikie(?)), top!oc, bottom!jk

summary: jungkook loses a bet because he needs to devour you

a/n: drop your feedbacks guyss!! pretty much a pwp :)

masterlist

“If you won't do it then I'll”, he grits his teeth, more like in a cute way making you chuckle. You glance at him through the book you're reading at the moment, winding up to relax from the long day.

“Well then you lose”, you coo. He plops on a farther end of the bed, bringing himself to sit on his heels.

“Why are we even doing this in the first place baby?”, he whines, tapping on your ankles a little to catch your attention. First of all you are taking a really childish challenge way too seriously and acting like a brat on top of that.

“You started it”

“I was drunk!”, he fights back, his doe shaped eyes enlarging to show his disappointment.

“It's just a few more hours Jeon. Don't be so impatient hm?”, you don't look up at him. Going on and about teasing him. He did like it sometimes, but right now wasn't the time.

To put more context, Jungkook drunk confessed that he is addicted to your lips and kept kissing them all through a party and you sort of pricked on his lack of self control. And since Jungkook is a man fond of challenges, he immediately makes a very dramatic toast with half a glass of his liqor that he won't touch you or kiss you for an entire day.

And as usual, his sober self has to bear with the consequences. To take things further down the hole, you are wearing only an oversized hoodie, fresh scent of your shampoo and skincare products around the air, sitting there with a bare face and focused eyes, though that might be just a play you're putting up.

“Aren't you going to change, just gonna sit there? Go take a shower Jungkook you are stinking”, you add, and it's a lie. He smells like his expensive collection of perfumes and much more boyfriend enough to not kiss, but...you know, ego.

To summarise, he had enough of this.

The book is yanked away from your hand. His strong hands builds a cage around your small frame and presses it against the headboard of the bed. He smirks, realising it only takes the bare minimum to make you falter.

“Okay…I lose baby. I just need you now”. he growls.

He immediately seeks home in caressing your outer thigh where your hoodie ends, and spreads them enough for him to settle better to kiss you hard. Loads of pent up frustration and he feels like he is pulled back to life when he finally presses into your mouth.

Thanks to your bratty ass, he doesn't go any easy. A shaky moan leaves your lips when his tongue licks at the floor of your mouth, but also, he isn't doing anything more than holding your thighs when you are already craving and all worked up.

You hold his wrist and try to bring it to your chest, but he slaps it away, so you go for his collars to pull impossibly closer to feel his torso on you, althoughfeeling sad with no other stimulation on your body.

When the air starts to run out, he finally inches back, licking on his lips. Your lips quirk up when he tugs at the hem of your hoodie.

“My baby didn't seem so eager earlier”, he rasps. Glad that your face stays hidden when he slowly pulls out your hoodie, leaving you in white panties.

He holds you by the waist and turns both of your bodies around so that he sits resting back on the headboard while you are straddling his lap, immediately trying to rub against his denim covered thighs for some friction.

He stops, squeezing your butt cheeks, “Patience baby, ride something better hm?”.

He chuckles at the animalistic endeavor of yours to get him naked. But you don't bother to get his pants all the way out, just enough to pull out his member.

He shudders, feeling the air cooling off the wetness on his member, and you get up just a moment enough to be completely bare while he starts stroking himself.

Removing his hands, you hold his girth, pumping it a few times to watch him sink into your touch, head falling back.

You go for his neck, determined to bring spots of purple around it. It feels like you are taking your sweet and his not-so-sweet time to go further, so his grip drops down to hook under the butt and plop you straight on the head of his cock. He holds some sort of intense eye contact, one that of beyond lust, but there is no time for any analysis when he jerks his pelvis upward to sear into you.

You clench almost pathetically around him and he groans, guiding you to bob up and down his length.

Jungkook can't come up with any coherent thoughts to word his feelings right now. He just loves you so much and very happy to have a really healthy relationship, one consistent for years and with understanding. He feels like tearing up, out of both pleasure and warmth.

He sees you fondling with your breasts so he leans forward to lick in some attention to the pebbled buds. The more faster you went on him, he suked in harder, biting around to return the artwork on his neck and along the jaw.

“I'm close baby… mngh keep going”, he aligns his movements accordingly to let you feel him as deeper as possible. You can't come up with words, except chanting his name for every clench of the wall.

Though it was just breif sex, it felt euphoric after being touch deprived. A day doesn't sound long, but he is crazy about you and could make love all day if he could.

With a silent scream, he comes, starting your own orgasm. It takes a moment to come down from the high.

You remain as you are, close and cuddled. The bed is probably stinking with sweat and arousal, but you couldn't care any less. You wrap your hands around his torso, feeling his cock softening inside you.

“I love you so much baby”, he whispers, planting a kiss to your cheek. You blush and press your cheeks to his pecs, “I love yo— what's that? ”

His pants have ridden further down his thighs and something is poking out of his pocket. You feel his heartbeat increasing against your cheek.

Fuck. It's a ring.

“Baby please don't freak out I can explain! ”, he shouts out, wrapping his hands around you more firmly, assuming the worst of the scenarios.

You hug him back, eyes still on the black velvet box spread out on the bed.

“I planned so much. I swear. I wanted to make this perfect”, he rushes to supply. He feels your warm hands rubbing his back to calm him down.

“Kookie”, you pull away from him, hands cupping his cheek because he is too terrified to look at you in the eye right now, “Please propose to me”.

He takes a moment to let your words sink in. And after, he is the quickest thing on earth to grab the box and open it.

“Y-Y/n…”.

“Take it easy. Breathe Kook. You are not breathing. It's just me. ”

That puts him into more ease. He feels embaressed that he couldn't do it in a more independent manner, the way he had them all laid out— coming Saturday at the first cafe you went on a date. It was supposed to be perfect. You would walk home holding hands, and then he would get on one knee and tell you how much you mean to him. But it's all gone now and he feels bad.

You hold his pecs and give it a pat and he smiles, a nervous one, “Y/n...will you marry me?”

You plant a sweet kiss to his lips. It feels a little salty from his incoming tears. You rub it away with the pad of your thumbs, “Yes Kookie, I'll marry you”.

“Baby you make me the happiest man alive”, he sobs. His hands still trembling to place the ring on your fingers. It's lavish and work of custom made beauty, he put months of work into it. Though things didn't go exactly planned, it was a happy ending. He can't wait to see you in a white dress at the altar, to be the father to your kids and to call you his wife for the rest of his life.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptfics

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guardianofrivendell · 3 years

Text

Guarding Your Heart - Teaser

Are you longing for a multichapter fic with adventure, mystery and excitement, overflowing with a lot of sass, wit and humor?

And... could it be? Possible romance? A will they won’t they kind of story?

Then have we got news for you 😄

The wonderful @laurfilijames and I smacked our writing braincells together and have been working - and still are - on something fun!

Get ready for a modern AU with our favorite Durin brother and a new OC, Lucy Turner!

Lucy is a smart, independent woman who’s getting dragged into her father’s past against her will. Fíli, who is working for the family’s security agency, receives his next assignment: guarding Lucy. On one side someone who doesn’t want to be a ‘babysitter’ and on the other side someone who will do anything to get rid of her ‘bodyguard’, you know this will turn into chaos. Interesting chaos, but still chaos. Until things start to get serious and they have to work together to stay alive.

Chapter 1 will be here soon, but because we like to tease and want you to join us in our excitement about this story, you get to see a small snippet under the cut! There’s going to be a taglist for those who are interested.

If you like and know our writing and our style, you know this will be one hell of a ride... Let us know what you think!

Lucy tucked away her phone in her back pocket and started putting on her running shoes, without giving her visitor a second glance.

Fíli stayed where he was, curious to see where she was going with this. She seriously didn’t think going for a run was a good idea when she had a target on her back?

When she made a beeline for the door, he blocked the entrance with a simple sidestep. Fíli dropped his duffle bag on the hallway floor, inches away from her feet. Unbelievable, he thought.

Lucy scoffed. “Could you please get out of my way?”

“Not going to happen,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “and where exactly are we going?”

“I am going for a run, you can go back to where you came from,” she snapped, poking her finger in the middle of his chest to emphasize her words.

A feisty one. Figures…

Fíli sighed and grabbed her by the shoulders, before turning her around and pushing her back inside. He used her temporary disbelief to follow her into the hallway and close the door behind them.

“From now on, this door stays closed. You’re not leaving and I am not leaving. No one’s coming in either,” he ordered her.

“You can’t do that!” Lucy said indignantly.

“I can and I just did.” He guided her towards the living room and pointed at her couch. “Sit.”

“Excuse me?”

Fíli rolled his eyes behind his shades. “Sit down, please?”

“I’m not listening to someone who doesn’t even bother with taking off his sunglasses inside. That’s very rude-” Lucy stopped talking when Fíli took his shades off, revealing his cerulean blue eyes.

When she opened her door a few moments ago, she had to admit she was a bit startled with the sight in front of her. The man they sent over was well-built, muscular but not too much, tight khaki shirt and dark cargo pants with heavy boots underneath. He had ‘security’ written all over him.

But Lucy didn't expect him to have such kind, bright eyes...

“Thank you,” she mumbled, still a little stunned and to Fíli’s surprise she sat down, looking up at him expectantly.

He took a seat on the coffee table so their knees were almost touching and started fidgeting with his sunglasses.

“There are a few things I want to discuss with you but first… You’re seriously not going to ask me who I am? Check my identity? Do you always let strangers walk into your home like that?”

“You let yourself in, remember? And why should I? It’s obvious you’re here to keep me prisoner in my own home.”

Fíli shook his head. This girl had absolutely no regard for her own safety.

“What if I’m someone who wants to hurt you? I could be part of the cartel, for all you know!”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you want to hurt me?”

“Of course not, I’m here to keep you alive and safe. Preferably in that order.”

“Well, I’m not feeling particularly safe so far,” she retorted, crossing her arms.

#Fíli x OC #Fíli x reader #Fíli #The Hobbit #The Hobbit fanfiction #Fíli Durin #Modern!Fili #The Hobbit AU #Fili AU #Bodyguard AU #The Hobbit imagine #The Hobbit multichapter #Dean O'gorman #the hobbit x reader #The Hobbit x OC #Fili Friday

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girlwiththealligatortattoo · 2 years

Photo

Admittedly, I feel rather isolated from most humans, but not all, due to my own perspective regarding animals. No apologies, no regrets. I’m okay not fitting in. I’m a true, hardcore, animist. For me, they all have souls that are just as sacred as any human’s. I do not find humans “more important.” And I do not think other animals are here for us to do with as we please. And I do not think if animals don’t behave the way we want, when we want, that they are somehow useless. This separates me from what feels like 99% of the world. Not that there aren’t other animal lovers. Assuredly, there are. But I just find it hard to meet any who go beyond the traditional love of animals, which entails generally caring about their well-being. Fortunately, there are many people who care about that.

I consider myself an animal. I’m a rather hairless ape, with a limited amount of time on a beautiful planet. I’m lucky to have been born where I was, and my circumstances, albeit sometimes harsh and challenging, well...I’ve managed to make it through them alive, and I think, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually healthy. There are a handful of people, who when I’m with them, or talking to them, make me feel like I’m not from another planet. And to those few people, I thank you so very much for your understanding.

Anyway, just sharing an image of a horse I love so very much. I love him for his spirit. I love him for his fierce independence. I love him because he has made it through struggles in a human world that started him out not so great. He should have been wild, but humans made it that he wasn’t left in the wild. He was rounded up. He doesn’t conform easily. Well, neither do I, so who the hell am I to judge? And if you know me well, you would know that I think humans are the LEAST “well-behaved” animals on the planet.

I love him. Love him. Love him.

Here’s to you Buck. I hope to get to kiss your nose again, and love on you and share quiet moments. We both know we are different. We don’t need words to express that to each other. We aren’t convenient for everyone in the world. But we are here. And beautiful. And strong. May you live long and prosper, and may I bear witness to that, sharing as much time as possible in your presence.

Sharing this image of Kelby and Buck from a few months back. So beautiful. Every time I watch video of her working and riding him, tears creep into my eyes. Happy tears.

Happy Thursday beautiful people!

#horses #horse #equine #mustang #wildhorses #nature #animals #animalloversunite #bnw #equinephotography

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yyparkq · 4 years

Text

meraki

([may-rah-kee] GREEK

(n.) to do something with your soul. Creativity, or love; to put something of yourself into your work)

word count: 8,706

pairing: jaebeom x reader

a/n: part of got7 alive fest on twitter. you may also view this on ao3! :)

“Can I buy you a drink?” you offered enthusiastically as you slide beside the man who doesn’t pay any attention to the girl on his other side. The woman glared at your boldness and stomped away when her subject instantly tilted his head to your direction. Trying to hide your own thumping heart, you smiled at his incredulous expression.

After living as a hermit for a few years and squeezing all the creative juices out of your brains onto literary masterpieces, you finally decide to venture out again to your old world. When asked for a recommendation, your agent/best friend didn’t miss a beat telling you about the upcoming party being thrown by your common friends in college—an unusual bachelor party and bridal shower in one. Hearing all the possible details from her made it sound twice more interesting and fun. Before you even knew it, you were nodding your head in excitement and confirming your attendance at the upcoming event. The timing was perfect. You had your scheduled flight earlier on the day of the party, so you could go straight there. The thought of finally seeing your college friends after five years excited you, but above all, you were yearning to see one specific person you dearly missed—Lim Jaebeom.

You had been studying his profile—one you’d recognize anywhere—ever since you entered the party. It’s almost as if he never changed except for his seemingly wider shoulders and longer hair. You smiled at the thought of him still being so fond of casually donning the most basic clothes that otherwise fit the occasion. That, and yet he still managed to pull it off and stand out from the rest of the crowd. Like how he’s wearing a crisp white button-down shirt and slacks that looked way too stiff for a guy to wear at a party. His now long hair slightly unkempt and falling on one side of his cheek.

To say he was surprised is a huge understatement. The last thing he could have expected from Mark’s party is the presence of a woman who dropped him like a hot potato without a single word five years ago, now materializing in front of him and striking up a conversation as if it was yesterday. A tinge of betrayal crept into him as he realized his best friend didn’t bother giving him a heads up about your attendance. He could have prepared a more controlled reaction than a pair of wide eyes and mouth agape with astonishment. Pulling himself together, he looked back at you with a more reserved gaze.

Unconsciously, you bit your lip and broke the eye contact, feeling your cheeks warm but thankful for the dimness of the place at the same time. You never expected his gaze to still have the same overwhelming effect on you even after almost a decade of knowing him.

You cut the eye contact and turned your attention to the bartender in front of you instead, requesting for your usual drink to keep from further making a fool of yourself in front of Jaebeom.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to try that phrase at least once,” you laughed after the bartender slides you your glass. “That was bad, wasn’t it?”

Jaebeom clicked his tongue and took a sip from the half-empty glass in his hand. His sheer annoyance was evident in the way he twisted his wrist and set down the glass abruptly on the counter. As if trying to say something, he looked at you and opened his mouth but was cut short when your friend Wheein screamed your name on the top of her lungs and made her way to your seat.

“Mark is looking for you!” she shouted after putting an arm on your shoulders in an attempt to sweep you to the direction where she came from. You rolled your eyes at her and stood firm in your seat, refusing to be dragged by her strong arms. She tilted her head in question before looking over to the guy seated beside you and instantly grasped the situation. “Oh,” she gasped softly when she recognized Jaebeom. “Look for Mark after you’re done here, he’s in one of the tables at the corner, making out with his bride. Seriously, doesn’t this completely defy the very reason for bachelor’s parties and bridal showers?” she added to which you only answer with a sarcastic smile and a nod. She looked back at the guy beside you and winked before disappearing back into the sea of dancing people.

Despite the blaring music at the party, you and Jaebeom sat in complete silence. Neither of you attempted to start an empty conversation. The situation reminded you of one of the hundred things you used to like about being with him—for you, words and silence both held equal meaning. Though, sometimes words can betray someone twice more than a short silence can.

Growing up, you witness your parents spend most of their downtime doing their individual hobbies while still being together at the same time. Your mom solving her crossword puzzles while your dad watches his favorite crime and murder documentaries on cable tv. The comfortable silence between them has always been a pleasant memory and has been an important factor in most of your relationships.

A walking paradox. That’s what you are. For someone who believes in the power of silence, you also find comfort in expressing yourself through words. Your eloquence never dimmed as you grew up. The delicious combination of you being able to speak your heart out and listen attentively to the other party at the same time built a character that everybody around you loved to be with.

As an only child of a wealthy family, you grew up getting all the love and attention you needed from your humble parents. You were a vivacious child who was ready to face everything and chase her own dreams, thanks to your family who would always tell you to go after whatever made you happy. And even if it turned out to be something that wasn’t for you in the end, at least you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life wondering how things could have been if only you tried when you had the chance to. So when you first laid your eyes on an unfamiliar guy sitting in one of your elective classes in college, you knew you were in for a long ride.

Jaebeom’s presence always demanded attention no matter which room he was in. When he sat in front of you for the first time in one of your boring classes after spring break, you are quick to notice the curious stares and discreet glances from your own classmates. Recognizing the possibility of the competition being high, you wasted no time trying to get to know him and introduced yourself right after your class ended.

“Ah, the attentive girl,” he said when you followed him to the hallway and made your existence be known to him.

You smiled brightly, glad that your efforts in answering the professor’s questions correctly during class left a good first impression on him. He offered you a small smile, one that hardly reached his eyes but still made your heart flutter for the very first time. You were expecting to learn his name in exchange but instead, he only walked past you.

At the party, Jaebeom briefly glanced at the approaching guy behind you and sighed.

“This is nuts! Y/N, you really are here! I thought Wheein was just fucking around when she said she brought your ass to our party!” Mark exclaimed, wrapping you in an enormous embrace and ruffling your hair in the process. “Where the hell have you been to? We didn’t hear a single word from you since college. Are you married yet?”

Your eyes rolled at his accusing tone and giggled, briefly glancing back at Jaebeom who was also waiting for your response. “I’m not answering that, Tuan.”

Mark slapped the other guy’s back and whispered something in his ear which he responded with a creased forehead and confused eyes back. Mark laughed and turned his attention to you, showing you the way to the bigger table where everyone else from your common circle had gathered. One last look at Jaebeom’s unamused expression and you let the former guy lead your body, unaware of the latter trailing behind you to join the table.

Five long years you spent living away from your family and friends, justifying the need importance of exercising your independence and trying to hone your skills and interests by taking a literary degree overseas. At some point, you did want to pursue a career in writing. It was your childhood dream, after all. But it wasn’t the only reason you endured half a decade away from the closest people of your life and stepped out of your comfort zone. The moment you decided you wanted to start again, you knew the main reason is to run away from the guy who repeatedly broke your heart. And now that you’re back, you are determined to show a different version of yourself to everyone. One that is no longer naive when it comes to love and to life. You’re fairly confident you’re more than ready to play your part in this new beginning.

Some say we don’t get to choose who we love, but you beg to differ. When you’re stubborn and you love to prove people wrong, it doesn’t come as a surprise when you have chosen to give your all to Lim Jaebeom the moment you laid your eyes on him. Chasing someone for years in this time and day should qualify for modern martyrdom. Jaebeom is one tough nut to crack especially when romantic relationships and commitments don’t exist in his world. That much is known to you but you did not give up, relentlessly bugging him every time you got a chance just to be together—even if it meant only hanging out as good friends. You were vocal with your intentions and your actions spoke so much to your words. Guys wanted to be Lim Jaebeom in a way a girl, as deemed perfect as you are, was always by his side supporting him in his endeavors.

All of your friends used to excessively warn you about Jaebeom being a bad idea, but you must have been blinded by your love that you failed to recognize the red flags that practically waved at you before.

How Jaebeom was able to turn you down twice could be considered a mystery unsolved for everyone, even for his own self. There is no doubt about your intelligence, you’re highly responsible and driven, you’re empathetic and humble and the majority loves to be around you. On top of that, your beauty fits the current societal standards that you don’t even have to try hard. Everyone sees no reason for any man to reject you except that you could be close to an epitome of perfection, setting the bar far too high for anyone.

Mark’s table was filled with laughter and yells from your friends when you reached it. Most of his guests were from the wealthiest families who have been specializing in throwing parties since college. Fortunately, the majority of your closest circle of friends managed to group themselves for that night when you joined them. Stories and questions about the time you spent away from everyone else rained on you. How you spent the last five years—stories about your campus life, your travels, the one of a kind experiences you had—were mostly shared that night. Somehow, Jaebeom was thankful for Mark’s presence for he knew he wouldn’t be able to hear so much from you if you were left alone with him.

Jaebeom and Mark took pride in your highly improved alcohol tolerance. Both expected you slurring on your words after a couple of cocktail drinks like you used to in college but there you were, looking as sober as you could as you briefly played poker with the other guests and even after downing innumerable glasses of cocktails and beers in the last four hours at the party.

Somehow you managed to genuinely enjoy the time at the party, playing games, dancing, and laughing with your friends, all the while thinking about the fact that Jaebeom had been talking to a girl he’s involved himself with—the last straw from five years ago. It would have been a lie if you said you never played all the possible scenarios in your head to prepare yourself when you once again meet the two people who have caused you your heartache before.

It took Jaebeom a couple more hours before mustering the courage to actually strike a conversation with you. Just when you were about to call it a night and head back home did he find himself quicker on his heels. All you wanted at that moment was to go home, plop yourself into your bed, and sleep the night away—exhaustion finally dawning into you.

It almost drove him crazy when he realized that you almost left again that night without bidding him goodbye. He hated how you made it look so easy to leave him every time.

You stopped dead in your tracks after hearing Jaebeom shout your name.

He rushed to you and gently reached out for your arm, his cheeks and nose were burning and you’re not sure if it’s because of the liquor or the crisp night air of the nearing autumn season. “Y/N. Let’s talk,” he said.

The corners of your mouth slightly twitched upwards after clearly hearing his voice for the first time that night.

A talk would’ve been a nice idea if your mind was not so clouded with the thoughts and memories with him right now. You already promised yourself to not give in to his ill intentions. You could only hope to make sound and logical judgments for yourself this time especially when he seems to know so well when and how to talk you out to serve his best interest.

You opened your mouth for a second before shaking your head and looking briefly at the ground. “I can’t—I can’t talk, Jae,” you sighed, feeling the night air nip on your bare skin. “Not right now. I’m exhausted. Maybe next time?” you whispered weakly and your forehead creased when you felt a ringing inside your head. Why did you even think a night of partying after a five-hour flight was a good idea?

Jaebeom stared at you for a good minute and noticed your utter discomfort unrelated to his presence “Then just let me drive you home. You look like you’ll pass out any second from now.”

Even after all the years that passed, he’s still able to look right through you and read you like an open book—one that had bothered you the most before and the very reason that kept you from coming back. You knew you wouldn’t be fooling anyone if you said you’re over him, and yet you’re in this situation.

You could have just called Wheein to drop you off your apartment. But your head started getting heavy and the thought of heading back to the party to fetch her didn’t sound like a good idea; you’re certain she wouldn’t be able to check her phone right away if you call her.

As if reading your mind, he proceeded to tug on your arm and guide you to his car. “I’ll tell Mark to send your car tomorrow.”

You muttered a quick thanks and typed your new apartment’s address to his car’s navigation before helplessly falling asleep during the ride.

Jaebeom stared at your face for a while after parking in front of your building. He wanted so much to hold you close to him and feel your body against him again but he knew better than to chase you away for the second time. It had been so long since he saw you this close. And though he spent a number of times visiting you incognito, he couldn’t help but feel a much stronger sense of regret for all the things that he has done to hurt you.

The clicking sound of your seatbelts being unfastened pulled you from the slumber. Jaebeom’s face was inches away from yours and you had to push him away due to shock. The brief nap you had made you feel so much better, your head feeling much lighter.

“Thanks for the ride,” you muttered sheepishly and immediately turned to open your side of the door to get off his car.

He stayed inside his car until he saw you made your way up into the elevator and remained seated in the dark for at least half an hour more before leaving the building.

Maybe hate is not the opposite of love, but indifference. Even in both spectrums, you couldn’t quite put a finger where you stood in your relationship with Lim Jaebeom. He’s like an opaque glass, extremely unpredictable and distant. There might have been times when you thought he’s finally letting his guard down and you inside his invisible shell, but now you’re not sure if or any of those times were even real. Despite being erratic, you stayed by his side, continuously cheering him on with his major life decisions as an unwanted friend and supporter.

It was your last semester break in college—one that didn’t really look like a break since graduation requirements were starting to pile up in addition to your internships and remaining academic classes—when Jaebeom stopped explicitly flirting with girls and started to constantly hang around you. He had a knack of fooling other people to believe he liked them more than he truly did, and you were in no way an exception in one of his schemes then. He made you feel you were important to him, made you think that he actually loved you and you never dared question it for once, finally seeing the end of your own chase.

Your friends thought he was finally coming to his senses and was getting ready to establish a serious relationship with you. Despite your conflicting schedules, every night he’d wait for your shift and classes to end to simply grab dinner together and then drive you back home. Even after he dropped you off, he’d call you’ll talk about the most random things over the phone until you both fell asleep. On his lunch breaks, he’d occasionally text you the lamest jokes he’s learned. His efforts never failed to make you smile.

But his sweet gestures lasted only for almost half a year. Right when you’ve finally garnered the courage to formalize taking your relationship to the next level, he had decided to put a stop to the little game he thought was going on between you. You didn’t mind having to lead the relationship with him at all. Putting a label on your relationship seemed like the last step in accomplishing your goal, considering all your efforts in trying to make him fall in love with you. But the end doesn’t always justify the means. One thing you have learned the hard way. Relationships are supposed to be two-way. Both parties need to practice give and take. And throughout the course of loving Jaebeom, you failed to realize how you’ve excessively poured yourself to him that you almost left little to nothing for yourself.

After finding out that he had slept with one of your closest friends, the only thing you could think of was to run away. Away from everyone even for a short period of time. That was the last straw. If he happened to sleep around before showing you his gentle and caring side and promising you a future with him, you could easily will yourself to not get hurt. But how could he go around sleeping with another girl when he made it clear to you that he wanted you to stay in his life?

Desperate for an escape, you negotiated with your father to buy yourself time to heal and move on. When he gave you his blessing to move across the country and spend some time alone for a couple of years, you took it as an opportunity to run away.

With your love for literature, you decided to pursue a degree related to it. You spent most of your time traveling, looking for inspiration to start your piece. You traveled across countries, visiting the most romantic places on earth alone, casually reminiscing the relationship you had with Jaebeom and thinking of all the other possibilities that could have happened if only you knew better than to chase a guy away. If there was one thing you could be grateful for the most, despite your situation, it’s having a chance to prepare yourself to write your very first book. You’ve always pictured yourself publishing a novel in the science fiction/fantasy category. A couple of unfinished novels sat on your computer since high school, somehow you couldn’t find the will to finish any of them and end each story. Little did you know the first one you will author close to actual completion is inspired by your own encounter with the love of your life. You planned for an open-ended story, wanting to finish the novel but not brave enough to put an absolute end to the story yet.

Finally, it was time for you to keep your end of the bargain with your father. You needed to come back to assume a position in your family business. You thought five years was enough to get over Lim Jaebeom, but then it seemed as if you were always wrong when it comes to him.

Your new office was luxurious. It had an enormous space elegantly decorated with black and gold pieces of furniture and minimalist ornaments. The floor to ceiling glass windows was overlooking the bustling city and gave you a stunning view of the sunset. The secretary assigned to help you with your new role in the company looked a few years younger than you but was always quick to pick things up and anticipate your needs, which is exactly what you need for.

The idea of working with your family members never really pleased you, but you couldn’t go back on your word, not when your father had been constantly at your disposal, attending to most of your whims your whole life. You didn’t want to disappoint him in any way. With your attitude towards work, it had been easy for you to focus on the upcoming big projects you will soon be supervising for the company. You almost became the first and the last person to leave the building sooner than everybody expected. You didn’t mind spending hours of meeting with the board or the investors, presenting the most innovative projects.

A bouquet of flowers, which you paid almost no attention to, sat on the far end of your desk. You were rarely the kind of person who appreciated such notions until you noticed a small note—congratulating you on your first day—before going out of your office to attend a meeting. There was no implication of who the sender was but you already have an idea.

Every single day in the next two weeks, different kinds of flowers greeted you in the office. You had to tell your secretary to get rid of every single one of it after plucking out each note and stashing it in one of your desk drawers. At one point, your secretary asked if you’d rather have the lobby not accept the deliveries to save you both the effort in getting rid of it but you refused, not entirely sure why.

It’s Saturday morning but you decided to go to your office much earlier than you usually do, wanting to go over some reports that had bugged you all night. The sun had barely risen when you arrived, a steaming cup of coffee on your hand. You gripped the hot drink tightly when you noticed Jaebeom’s tall frame inside your office. Sometimes it just makes you question the security of the place, really.

“Ah, I find it easier to get rid of flowers than of a human,” you spat. “What are you doing here?”

Jaebeom turned around to watch your guarded expression as you circled around your desk and settled in your chair. He wondered how come you have changed so much. “You never spoke to me after that night.”

You scoffed. Did he really think you were back in the city to continue chasing a man? “I don’t think there’s anything we need to talk about, Mr. Lim,” you smiled tightly and briefly remembered yourself instigating a talk after Mark’s party. “Besides, you’re not the reason I came back.”

Jaebeom closed the distance between you two. “You’ve changed. A lot.”

You wanted to scream at his face but you knew better than to openly show your feelings around him again. Trying your best to act nonchalant, you tilted your head to the side. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. It’s easier for you to assume that I have because this is not the Y/N you used to mess around with, right?” you said with a smile and stood up, planning to open the door and kick him out of your office. “I really hope you did change too, Beomie.”

It only took Jaebeom a couple of strides to stop you midstep. He turned you to face him and dipped his head slightly, lifting your chin in one swift motion to briefly press his lips on yours. His other hand lightly grazed your cheek. It was a light peck on the lips but it felt and tasted exactly how he did years ago. How you managed to preserve such memories of him surprised you.

You were stunned. Stunned by the fact that he kissed you ever so gently like you were a fragile little thing.

He paused and looked at you and you couldn’t stand another moment so close to him without his lips on yours. Soon, you started returning his kisses until you were both gasping for air. Just like that, the last five years you spent trying to move on from Jaebeom went down the drain.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispered and lightly kissed the sides of your mouth, arms circling around your waist. “So much.”

You tried so hard to not push him away as soon as those words left his mouth. For years you craved hearing it from him but why now? You were ready to go on with your life. Tears started to prick at the corner of your eyes. You never wanted to admit it to yourself but you missed him, too, dearly.

Only when you replied with nothing but a complete silence did Jaebeom stop his ministrations and took a good look at you. The conflict going on in your head evident on your face and he blanched.

“You selfish prick,” you muttered, blinking away the moisture in your eyes. “I don’t want to play your games anymore. I already spent number of years hating myself because of you. Please don’t make me feel that way again.”

Jaebeom pulled you in for a proper hug and shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cooed. “Let me make this right, please?” he begged. “Let’s have dinner later. I’ll pick you up, okay?” he searched your eyes for approval but you shook your head and peeled yourself away from him.

Fuck dinner.

The moment Jaebeom vanished from your office, you freely let your tears fall. All the walls you’d built around yourself for years came crumbling down all with just a fucking kiss. You let yourself weep for a few more minutes before pulling yourself together again and trying your best to focus on your work. It’s a good thing that all that happened on a Saturday morning when you barely had an employee around to see you on your most vulnerable state. After a few hours, you couldn’t seem to properly do what you intended to do that day so you just brought the papers you’re supposed to review, hoping you could finally take a look with a clear mind by the time you reach your apartment.

It was around 7 P.M. when your doorbell rang. Jaebeom’s face flashed on the little screen of your doorbell intercom. Did he take your response earlier as an approval to take you to a fucking dinner?

There is no way you will be going out with him again. And yet Jaebeom stood silently at the other side of the door for almost two hours. He couldn’t forget how soft you could get for other people—even for a cruel man like himself who didn’t deserve you. And you? How could you forget how stubborn he could be when he wants something?

You dressed in a simple white shirt and pants and put on a light coat before exiting your apartment. Jaebeom’s eyes lit up at the sound of the doors unlocking. He smiled despite you pulling an annoyed expression on him. You briefly argued about bringing your own cars to the diner. Insisting you should share a ride to the restaurant, Jaebeom ended up in your passenger seat.

The dinner went unexpectedly smooth and you appreciated how he tried to make the mood light. You started talking like old friends over dinner, reminiscing some of the most memorable experiences you shared from years ago yet careful to not touch sensitive topics that would otherwise ruin the evening.

The night ended with him insisting to drive back. He knew how you used to hate driving when it was dark due to your bad eyesight back in college. Though you already underwent LASIK surgery and found no problem driving now, somehow the unpleasant memory was still at the back of your mind whenever you got behind the wheel at night so you opted not to protest.

The short drive to your apartment had been filled with comfortable silence except for Jaebeom’s occasional snide remarks directed to other drivers on the road.

It was a spur of the moment decision when you invited him to your home for a cup of tea—something you used to both enjoy after a long day.

You knew very well where this was going but you didn’t care, too tired to worry about things that hadn’t happened yet. Once again you wanted to just yield with fate.

The first night with Jaebeom after five awfully long years was spent snuggling close to each other while watching a movie. The old Jaebeom you knew wouldn’t have stayed for the night unless you begged him to, but now it seemed the tables had completely turned as he practically begged you to allow him to stay with you, promising he’d keep his hands to himself.

“What’s the point of staying here, then?” you teased him.

He blushed at your words and muttered something inaudible before you both settled comfortably under your sheets, the movie playing in the background as you felt each other’s warm body.

Every weekday after work, you would grab dinner together—in restaurants, takeouts, sometimes you alternate making home-cooked meals. Weekends were spent still hanging out together. He’d often invite himself over your house and show up at your doorstep uninvited. Soon he learned your passcode but never really used it to let himself inside until you tried to ignore his calls and refuse to open the door for him.

He was like a piece of gum that’s hard to get rid of and you’d be lying if you said you had no idea what’s coming.

Jaebeom and you both silently came to the conclusion of not wasting time playing stupid games anymore. Five years worth of time had just been wasted and you didn’t have the luxury of time chasing each other around instead of actually making up for the time that you lost.

Your current setup extended for two more months and you were starting to think that your history repeated itself. The situation felt all too familiar—constant hanging out, occasional making out sessions, endless arguments, and banter over the smallest of things. One thing that has changed though is how Jaebeom had become undeniably soft for you each time. He smiled and joked a lot around you and showered you with physical affection more every time he got the chance. At the back of your mind, you were thinking of the possibility of him doing all these little cute things just to get into your pants, but seeing him not even try his hardest to get it on with you makes you doubt yourself for even thinking about it. He could have jumped into bed with you and used your body for all he wanted but he never did, always asking for your consent even for a mere kiss on the lips every time. The way he would pause less than an inch away from your face before kissing you or the way he would hold you loose so you can easily get out of his grasp whenever he held you.

Wheein gave up trying to help you open your eyes and avoid making the same mistakes after the first month you constantly spent with Jaebeom. She knew you too well to try and waste energy to convince you that you were just gonna end up hurting yourself more this time. That and the fact that she hadn’t seen you this euphoric for the longest time. All she can do now was hope that your man was not stupid enough to let you go again.

The last two months had gone so smoothly. And you know sooner or later you would have to actually talk like real adults in a relationship. So far, Jaebeom still hadn’t made any move in identifying what kind of relationship you were having and you were afraid that you would fall more deeply in love with a guy who hadn’t changed one bit for you.

The following weekend, Jaebeom invited you over to his place. He entered an expensive neighborhood on the outskirts of town and pulled up to an elegant-looking residence. It had stunning glass walls and warm lights that illuminated the vicinity of the house.

You bit back your tongue to stop yourself from asking incredulous questions. You wanted so bad to ask him if he’s married. There’s no way he’s living in that house alone and without a family.

He opened your door and led you inside the house. It smelled so much of fresh sandalwood like his old apartment. You looked around the house and smiled at the grand piano that sat in the living room. You’d always pictured your kids with him taking after his musical talents.

You flinched when Jaebeom hugged you from behind. Instantly blushing at your own playful thoughts of building a family with him.

He chuckled and lightly took your hand, entwining your fingers together before grazing his lips against it. “Are you thinking about it?”

Your brows knit together. “About what?”

“The piano at your parents’ house?” he smiled. “We almost did it.”

Your eyes shut at the memory of making out with Jaebeom at one of the parties your cousin threw in your house. That was the first time you kissed Jaebeom and since then you never had enough of him. You took a deep breath and tried to focus on your agenda for tonight. You had to make sure you cleared things up between you two before cruising towards yet another possible road to heartbreak.

Sighing, you turned around and marched away from him but stopped when you saw the dinner he had prepared. He led you to the table and pulled out a chair for you. Your heart is throbbing so loud, you were worried he might be able to hear it.

“Jae—”

Before you could even begin, he shushed you. “I know what you’re trying to say. We can talk about it later. Let’s eat first. Please?”

Did he know, really? Maybe he did but he just didn’t care. It’s not that impossible. Maybe he did not change at all. He was still the selfish bastard who only knew how to take from you and never gave even the smallest piece of himself in return.

You couldn’t stand to let the questions live in your mind rent-free. It should be now or never. If he were to say he didn’t want a relationship, then so be it. You weren’t looking for another reason to cry, you’ve had enough of that. I’m ready, you told yourself inside your head. Ready to face the worst again tonight.

“No. We have to talk about this now. Otherwise, we’ll go around in circles again. And I’m tired, Jaebeom.” It took you a great amount of willpower to display a straight face in front of him. “I don’t want to be with you anymore. The last few months have been great but that’s it. That’s all we could ever be. I don’t want to go any further.”

You’re a terrible liar.

“You say I’m selfish. And I know very well the game you are playing.” He reached for your hands but you stepped away. “But you can’t win, Y/N,” he said, confident in his own words. “Because you already want me. And you don’t stop chasing what you want until you get your hands on it.”

Maybe he was right. You were terrified thinking he did not change after all these years and yet you never realized you took little to no step in changing yourself when it came to him.

You shook your head, tears attempting to escape the corner of your eyes.

“I don’t want to be hurt again,” your voice trembled. “Every second I spend with you, I’m on my toes. Ready to protect myself from being hurt again. But—but right now, I want to make an exception. I will let myself be hurt again if it means I will finally be able to completely let you go.

“Please tell me you never really loved me. I might have been in love but I wasn’t that stupid. I swear we were almost there. I believed it. I believed every time. And yet you made it look so easy to turn your back at me. For years I have questioned my worth to be treated like that. Was I not enough?”

Jaebeom’s cheeks flushed. His eyes are burning.

“I wasn’t ready for you to leave me then!” he shouted as he walked away from you and collapsed onto the couch, his hands roughly brushing his face in an attempt to clear his thoughts. “Everyone I love does,” a short silence and then he got up again. “I didn’t want you to leave me then or now,” he whispered quietly.

You laughed and stood in front of him. “So you slept around after telling me you want me to stay in your life? You thought that would make me stay?”

“I never slept with anyone then.”

If not for the sincere gaze he held with you, you’d definitely think he’s lying. But Jaebeom rarely lied. He’s a cold-hearted asshole who hurt people with the truth, no matter how hard it was.

“Then why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“At first I thought you got tired of me because I finally confessed to you. I thought you were done and that you were ready to leave me. I talked to your parents—”

“You talked to my parents?”

He nodded. “They told me you were moving across the country to get away from me. How could I stop you when your father almost wanted to kill me when he told me how you cried every night thinking your parents didn’t hear you?”

Jaebeom quietly stood up and faced you. He cupped your face and muttered “I’m sorry” repeatedly, kissing your tears as they continued to stream down your cheeks. “I love you so damn much. I will never forgive myself if I lose you again. Please trust me again. For the last time?”

He pulled you with him and settled back down to the couch. You stayed in his arms silently for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. Your swollen eyes hurt the moment you tried to look for the loud device. How you ended up in one of the beds in an unfamiliar house after a night of crying is a question easily thrown out the window.

An arm tightened around your waist when you attempted to get up. You whipped your head at the man beside you. He was sporting a deep frown beneath his long strands that partially covered his face. His wide shoulders on full display as he slept shirtless.

Your heart thumped loudly at the sight of Lim Jaebeom’s face so early in the morning. You wanted to kiss him. But you still owed yourself time to think through everything before jumping on your feelings again, aiming for a sound and logical justification of your next actions hoping to save yourself from any regrets in the near future.

You asked for space. A clear space to do your thinking and evaluation of your current status with Jaebeom. He promised to give it to you but with a condition—he will get to talk to you even on the phone every morning. The hell was this man actually thinking? How were you supposed to do your thinking when he’s continuously trying to fill your system with himself? Knowing he wouldn’t back down from any argument, you never objected but never promised anything either.

Every morning, a husky voice greeted you on the other line. This continued for a week and a half until he can no longer bear not seeing you in flesh.

“Come on, we already let five years pass. That’s more than enough time of suffering for me, baby,” he told you when he barged in your office carrying a baked salmon takeout for lunch. He knew that kind of food will work its magic on you. And sure, it did. When he was available during lunch, he’d come by your office to grab a meal with you. He’d also wait for you to finish your work to drive you back home. A lot of times you had to ask your secretary to take your car home.

You wanted to take all the time that you needed to establish your relationship with him. But when your friend Wheein played cupid for the both of you and hoisted an incredibly hot guy as your suitor to serve as ‘threat’, Jaebeom wasted no second in claiming you as his girlfriend, despite the fact that you both have been definitely acting like one already. “Seriously, Y/N? Do you ever learn? You need the commitment to make this shit work! Let me do the work for you.” Wheein scolded you when you told him you’re not yet in a conventional “official relationship”.

Mark’s wedding came. The ceremony had been elegant and extremely intimate. A slight contradiction to his past relationship with his now-wife.

Throughout the ceremony, Jaebeom stared at you from the altar. He watched as your eyes shone with tears when the bride walked the aisle and the couple shared their handwritten vows. He watched as you tried to look away when he was caught intently staring at you from across the church, trying to shy away from the evident desire to be in the same shoes as the bride.

If he could, he would have given you the world. He was ready to give you anything you asked for just for you to be happy. Marriage, he thought, is something that never really crossed his mind until you came back. Considering all the shit he put you through, he wouldn’t be surprised if you turn him down at least once. Maybe he deserves it but he will never give up on you again.

Thoughts cloud his mind but Jaebeom managed to keep his hands on you the whole course of the afterparty when he wasn’t aiding the groom. You didn’t mind, noticing the clouded expression plastered on his face. He didn’t have any liquor so he should be just tired, you assume.

That night, you decided to sleep over at his apartment. Wanting to save your boyfriend some extra time from driving back and forth from your house to his. Plus, his building was relatively closer to the reception compared to yours. Fortunately, Jaebeom lit up at your decision, excited to spend another weekend with you.

As soon as the door to his apartment closed, his lips found yours. It took you a second before returning his frantic kisses, your head lightly bumping into the wooden door as he pressed his own body against yours. He kissed you as if his life depended on it. His hands skimmed your curves and bunched up a fistful of your gown to caress your thigh.

Desperately gasping for air, you pushed him. Jaebeom must have noticed your legs almost turning into a jelly so he hoisted your hips upward, your legs automatically straddling his as he walked into the bedroom while supporting your body with a hand on your ass.

The way he gently placed you on the bed almost shocked you, like you were somewhat made of glass that could be broken with the slightest pressure. He propped himself on one elbow and stared at your eyes. You can tell something’s bothering him.

“A penny for your thoughts?” you whispered as you lightly touched his face, worried.

He shook his head and nuzzled your head instead of answering. Silently, he continued to stroke your sides and thigh lightly.

You didn’t want to force him to tell you what was bothering him, so you exerted an effort to flip your positions, determined to help your boyfriend relax.

Straddling his waist, you perched on top of him and started kissing him passionately. Slowly, you undid each button of his shirt.

He moved to help you discard his shirt and then reached around you to unzip your dress. He pulled the garment over your head and threw it on the floor. Now you’re completely bare in front of him, except for your underwear.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered on your lips before kissing you again. The way you ground your hips on his crotch driving him mad.

You stopped him when he attempted to go south, remembering your desire to help him ease the tension.

Jaebeom looked at you with confusion when you captured both his wrists and pinned them on either side of him.

“Let me take care of you,” you said, kissing the corner of his lips. The look on his eyes was replaced with amusement. You took your time concentrating on his upper body first, alternately kissing and sucking on his neck down to his abs while your hands massaged his member through his pants.

Jaebeom bit his lip. The mere sight of you naked and working on his jeans, barely even touching him, is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants. Each second you spent teasing him by slowing your movements was pure torture.

He immediately lifted his hips to help you pull his pants enough to free his cock.

Your hands instantly held the swollen tip and spread the precum around his head. You barely even touched him and the fact that he was hard as a rock for you sent delicious heat to your core. Your hands went up and down his shaft a few times, applying just the right pressure you came to learn lately with him.

Jaebeom had his eyes closed, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, trying his best not to moan.

Seeing Jaebeom unravel under your touch had become your addiction.

Your mouth soon replaced the greater portion where your hands used to touch a second earlier. And that was all it took for Jaebeom to finally moan loud, followed by a string of curses as his hips uncontrollably jerked at the warm feeling of your mouth. His hands found purchase on your hair. His moans motivated you to take him deeper down your throat in each thrust until you were almost gagging, eyes moist with tears.

He tried to keep himself from thrusting hard on your mouth when he noticed a tear escape your eye. “Shit. Baby, are you okay?”

You lightly shook your head and continued bobbing your head up and down his shaft until you could feel his cock twitch uncontrollably inside your mouth, signaling his release.

Jaebeom immediately pulled out and laid you on the bed, kissing you hard. He moved your panties to one side, dipping a finger to test your wetness. His other hand fondled your breast, twisting and pinching your nipples. You moaned to the kiss and arched your back, his ministrations throwing all of your senses into overdrive.

He peeled the last piece of clothing off of you and licked a strip between your folds before working his wet muscle inside your walls. You screamed and almost crushed his skull between your legs if not for his arms that massaged your mounds.

“Beom-ah,” you panted.

Jaebeom hummed in return, the vibrations causing your opening to clench around his tongue. He used his fingers to open you up and suck on your clit then proceeded to thrust fingers into your core.

You shook uncontrollably as the orgasm hit you and Jaebeom didn’t cease his fingers’ movements. He got back up and kissed your lips again. Aligning the tip of his cock to your opening.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much. You drive me crazy.” he panted as he sheathed himself inside of you.

You wanted to say it back but your body was aching. After all the sex with your boyfriend, your core still doesn’t seem to have adjusted to his girth.

Jaebeom waited a few minutes before moving his hips, letting you adjust around him. He peppered kisses on your face and behind your ear. “Still so fucking tight.”

“I love you too, Lim Jaebeom,” you whispered and moved your hips after adjusting.

Jaebeom started thrusting, slow but hard. All the while he was intently looking at your face, contorted with pleasure. He kept saying he loves you and you kept ignoring it, unable to make out words in your current position.

“Y/N shit,” he breathed. “I love you so much. Please marry me and have kids with me.”

You opened your eyes to see the sincerity in his eyes. Fuck, he meant it.

“What?”

Jaebeom slowed down his thrusts even if it hurt. “I love you so much. Please marry me, Y/N.”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes at the sudden marriage proposal. Never in your whole life had you imagined someone proposing marriage in the middle of the sex. If it wasn’t Jaebeom, you would have laughed. But it was him asking you. The guy you loved the most in your life. And even if he turned out to be just joking, you very well knew that there was a part of yourself wishing he actually meant it.

“Are you serious?”

“I’d do it the normal way some other time, baby. But I’ve said what I’ve been thinking about lately.” He tucked some loose hair behind your ear as he looked down at you. “I want to be yours forever. If you’d let me, I would marry you in every place you like.”

The cock twitched inside of you twitched as if urging you for affirmation.

Jaebeom searched your eyes for an answer. Only when you nodded and muttered a barely audible ‘yes’ did he continued to move in and out of you.

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doomonfilm · 3 years

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Ranking : Jim Jarmusch (1953 - present)

When you get someone adept at the art of filmmaking that can resonate at the highest vibrations when creating, that is a blessing in itself, but when you get a jack of all trades, everyman who is deeply observant and unabashedly humanist, and happens to make films to boot, then you start reaching the realms of Jim Jarmusch. As a Midwestern kid who studied at New York’s famed Columbia University before transitioning to a span in Paris, Jarmusch has the unique gift of deeply appreciating lofty art on the same level as outsider, underground art, and by understanding the context that connects all of them, his appreciation of time is enhanced by association. In a world that has become obsessed with taking in information with no intention of retention at a breakneck speed, it is refreshing to know that Jim Jarmusch has stood his ground in terms of deliberate pacing and tone.

Most of my Jarmusch familiarity came from the first half of his catalog, and it’d been years since I watched his work, so rather than rank what I remembered while trying to fit first watches in, I decided that the time was right to revisit the entire catalog. Doing so not only gave me a broader understanding of his overall vision, but it made me realize that a director with 25 years in the game is still capable of making drastic style shifts. Without further ado, here is my preferential ranking of the 13 Jim Jarmusch films available as of March 2021.

13. Coffee and Cigarettes (2003) This isn’t a bad film, but Coffee and Cigarettes definitely reeks of a narrative-less venture. The best parts of Coffee and Cigarettes come in attempts at placing what was shot explicitly for the film, versus what was shot during the previous fifteen or so years that Jim Jarmusch directed other feature films. Taken as a collection of independent vignettes, the film is rich in memorable moments, but for a director so adept at unifying themes with incredible nuance, specifically within the obtuse hurdles presented by an anthology film, Coffee and Cigarettes feels much more like assorted pieces than a fractured whole. More so than an original idea, the movie feels like a deep cut that true fans will appreciate, casual fans can easily reference, and Jarmusch-laymen can use as an entry into deeper conversations. If nothing else, see Coffee and Cigarettes for the incredibly entertaining scene where Cate Blanchett acts circles around Cate Blanchett, but Cate Blanchett still does her thing.

12. Broken Flowers (2005) Bill Murray has been popular longer than I’ve been alive, but somewhere around the beginning of the 21st century, it seemed like the entire world caught Bill Murray fever in a major way. After a couple of iconic roles in films by Wes Anderson and Spike Jonze, his star was riding new and unfathomable highs, and that was right when Jim Jarmusch teased collaboration via Coffee and Cigarettes before diving headlong into it with Broken Flowers. Of all the Jim Jarmusch films, this one still feels the least like his style, at least in terms of purity. Most of its magic comes from surrounding Bill Murray with Jeffrey Wright as a human conscience, as well as a parade of memorable actresses the likes of Sharon Stone, Frances Conroy, Jessica Lange, TIlda Swinton, Chloë Sevigny and more. The film runs high on charm, and for any man staring at the Autumn of his years, the feelings of romantic regrets are likely relatable on some level. Interestingly, this project feels like one of the most accessible in the Jarmusch canon, perhaps because of its efficient production presentation. If there were ever a Jim Jarmusch date movie, it’s Broken Flowers.

11. Permanent Vacation (1980) Upon initial viewing, Permanent Vacation possesses many of the earmarks of a student film, such as limited locations, long passages with minimal dialogue, symbolic monologues in place of standard narrative dialogue, and isolated characters within the context of an implied bigger world. The strengths that the film possesses, however, are elements that became staples in Jim Jarmusch films : a protagonist either absent of motivation or driven from within, cross-cultural fascination and iconography and the aforementioned patient approach to narrative are some of the key ingredients in the Jarmusch recipe. As a unique voice in a burgeoning New York collective of filmmakers, it makes total sense that his debut would be both an ode to New York City and an ode to living life like an outsider in the mecca of culture. This film probably wouldn’t be the best place to start a curious party to the Jim Jarmusch canon, but it would certainly be one to circle back to if their interest is piqued… I would recommend this one to fans of Richard Linklater’s early work for sure.

10. Stranger Than Paradise (1984) Stranger Than Paradise marks the first of many black and white commercial releases from Jim Jarmusch. As a second film, it has everything you’d want to see from a director finding his place in the industry : the cinematography has evolved and incorporated more movement, Jarmusch is starting to let his personality shine through via musical choices, and the stories are evolving into more relatable narratives rather than ruminations on isolation (while simultaneously becoming much funnier). Jarmusch still isn’t afraid to let his films breathe, however, which leaves his distinct style present even among the areas of growth. The incorporation of a strong female lead presence (thanks to Eszter Balint’s brilliant performance) showed that Jarmusch had a full understanding when it came to presenting stories for everyone on the screen, rather than limiting his voice to male characters. The casting of John Lurie and Richard Edson opposite one another is kinetic both visually and in terms of performance, as each of their versions of uptight laid-backness compliment one another.

9. Night on Earth (1991) Of the anthology films that Jim Jarmusch has created, Night on Earth is possibly my favorite. More so than any of the others, it captures the intriguing aspects of human nature by juxtaposing them directly against the very human tendency to judge books by their covers. With the vast majority of the film taking place in a handful of taxi cabs, we are left in the hands of the actors and actresses in the hopes that their interactions, chemistry and dialogues can keep us captivated, and the cast presented in the film completely stand up to the challenge in their pairings. Jarmusch also presents movie audiences with a way to show different worldly locations without having to lean on the cinematic and iconic shorthand that we are used to, such as the Hollywood sign, Times Square, the Eiffel Tower and so on… instead, we are shown places that locals would inhabit in all of their rundown and lived in glory, which in turn, amplifies the grounded realness of the interactions, as if we are looking at a fictional blueprint for what would later become the popular HBO series Taxicab Confessions. This film sits in-between two of Jim Jarmusch’s most iconic releases, so it is easy to see how this one could be easily lost in the shuffle, but it is certainly not a film to be missed, especially for those who would consider themselves Jarmusch fans.

8. Paterson (2016) Jim Jarmusch brings a humble sense of humanity to all of his films, but Paterson stands out for its nuance, subtlety and confidence in its patience. Much like Forrest Gump or a less abstract Charlie Kaufman film, Paterson dwells in an interesting realm of an unknowingly wise protagonist tethered to the center of tornado-like emotions and experiences from all they encounter. Jarmusch manages to take this framework, dial down the absurdity to a sneaky degree, and ramp up the grounded elements to the point where a viewer cannot help but graft pieces of themselves onto the events presented. As a musician with a day job, I can also relate to Paterson’s displays of beauty found in redundancy, and the peace that comes with understanding intentions for creative expression, even if others see it in a different light that you do. While not the grandest of Jim Jarmusch gestures, it is without a doubt one of the most sincere and heartfelt of his selections.

7. Mystery Train (1989) Mystery Train marks the first definitive signs of Jim Jarmusch knowing, understanding and utilizing the tools he’d come to favor in a manner that seemingly resonated what he pictured in his head. Memphis as a setting provides the juxtaposition of beauty and urban decay captured in Permanent Vacation; placing our audience on a journey with two foreign tourists brings the worldly view introduced in Stranger Than Paradise; and, most importantly, all of the coolness and humor that thrived in Down by Law returns triumphantly. Jarmusch also puts anthology filmmaking on the table, which is important for two reasons… first and foremost, it would become a style he would go on to thrive in, returning to it immediately with Night on Earth and once more with Coffee and Cigarrettes… secondly, as for Mystery Train directly, it allowed Jarmusch to surround Masatoshi Nagase and Youki Kudoh (burgeoning stars Western audiences were unfamiliar with) and Nicoletta Braschi, and surround them with his talented friends like Steve Buscemi, Cinqué Lee, Rick Aviles, Vondie Curtis-Hall and Tom Noonan, as well as legendary musicians like Tom Waits, Joe Strummer, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Rufus Thomas. Between these high profile castings, the stylish cinematography and the heartfelt quirkiness of the leads, Mystery Train feels like the film where everything came together in the best ways possible.

6. Down by Law (1986) To my knowledge, Down by Law would be considered the breakout success of the Jim Jarmusch library. John Lurie returned to the fold to provide another performance infused with coolness, but this time around, up and coming Italian star Roberto Benigni and iconic recording artist turned actor Tom Waits share lead duties, forming an unlikely trio with monstrously dynamic on-screen chemistry. Jarmusch not only switched things up for himself by setting the film in New Orleans rather than centering it around New York, but he turned the jailbreak genre on its ear by focusing on the escapees rather than the escape itself. The conflict between Jack and Zack is seeded with their individual problems with women (which both include emasculating each man by chastising them for not using domestic violence), as well as each of them ending up framed prior to imprisonment, which makes Roberto the de facto peacemaker despite his huge language barrier. Down by Law marks the first time that edginess found its way into a Jim Jarmusch film, and while it never became his forte, it wasn’t the last time that element was key to a Jarmusch film.

5. The Limits of Control (2009) When reflecting on The Limits of Control, the word patience comes to mind : the patience of accepting repetition… the patience of a trilingual film with minimal dialogue… the patience of a film that shows much more than it tells. As a take on noir, the Jim Jarmusch variety brings to mind films like Le Samourai, where actions speak infinitely louder than words, choices come with a definitive set of consequences, and we as viewers are allowed to consider what we are presented with in real time, just like our protagonist. The coolness levels are also pushed to maximum levels in this film, but then, what’s a Jim Jarmusch film without a generous dose of cool in it? While it is never rightly stated, I like to pretend that The Limits of Control takes place in the same universe as Ghost Dog, with Raymond having evolved into The Lone Man using the tools left behind by Ghost Dog. Maybe it’s a bit of embellishment on my end, but it makes an already great film have that little extra touch of pizazz needed to stand out from the pack.

4. Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999) While Jim Jarmusch isn’t necessarily a household name, he is relatively well known, and for many familiar with his work, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai served as the introductory film for them. The casting of Forest Whitaker in the lead role continued the trend of higher profile names joining the Jarmusch fold, and stylistically, the mixture of Ghost Dog’s hitman and samurai worlds with that of the mafia film (which was about to see a popularity resurgence in light of the recent premier of The Sopranos) was alive, kinetic, and rich with varied personalities. Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai also stood as an early example of RZA’s talents in the realm of scoring films, which would later go on to be a key element of Kill Bill: Vol. 1. For a movie with a more traditional approach, perhaps even the most accessible approach of all Jarmusch films, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai is anything but conventional, and it’s the sense of pride it wears in its non-conventionality that makes it the cult classic it became.

3. The Dead Don't Die (2019) Not since Dead Man has Jim Jarmusch picked such a distinct genre for a film of his, or decided to include such a long list of high profile names in character roles. While the sense of doom that usually comes with zombie movies is present, Jarmusch sticks to his toolkit by focusing solidly on the human element during the early portions of the film where many people would already have zombies doing the narrative and visual heavy lifting, and in turn, the audience finds themselves drawn deeper and deeper into the story well before the undead arrive. Of all the Jarmusch films, The Dead Don’t Die has the rare designation of being the only one that seems to comment on film itself, be it references to iconic characters from other properties, ruminations on film as a format, or even discussions centered around film fandom. While most films tend to stay around from outright explanations of whatever the root cause of the zombies are, The Dead Don’t Die uses the vacuum as a brief opportunity to make a comment on polar fracking and other climate/environment-altering processes. Even the zombies get the most on-screen humanity received since the days of George Romero’s Dead series, a refreshing change of pace that has been often ignored in recent films centered around the undead. Films like this one prove that Jim Jarmusch has the capacity to make films about most anything, and the further he strays from his supposed comfort zone, the seemingly better the films get.

2. Only Lovers Left Alive (2013) For a man so dedicated to being aware of the passage of time, a man with a deep appreciation for nostalgic cool of all eras, and a man with a rich and layered appreciation for art and music from across the board, it makes total sense that Only Lovers Left Alive would be a celebration of all these aspects framed as an eternal love with a deep cross-section between the original lovers and the tales of vampires. The vampiric leads allow Jarmusch the perfect vehicle to seamlessly tie stellar creativity from any point in time with a singular line, and the deep implications of our protagonists' names suggest a subtextual lore that one could likely build a cinematic universe around. For a venture with aspirations this lofty, the casting must fit the call, and the main four of Tilda Swinton, Tom Hiddleston, John Hurt and Jeffrey Wright build a solid foundational square for all characters to navigate deep emotions freely. If you’re looking for Twilight and Interview with the Vampire fare, you’ll probably long for more, but if films like Let the Right One In are more your speed, then Only Lovers Left Alive will likely be a revelation.

1. Dead Man (1995) While Jim Jarmusch never lost his auteur sensibilities, Dead Man marked his initial foray into the world of larger scale traditional productions through the vehicle of the period piece. Jarmusch films were not unfamiliar with showing us a broader view of the world we know, but transposing his trademark style into the world of the Western marked a bold (but ultimately rewarding) turn. With Neil Young serving as his Ennio Morricone, Jarmusch dusted off his black and white filmmaking equipment and seemingly told the production design team to blend all of the best parts of Spaghetti Western and German Expressionism. Johnny Depp, the film’s star, was riding the wave of success afforded from What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?, Benny & Joon and Ed Wood, and Dead Man carried that momentum right along. As for his Western universe, the list of names that Jarmusch chose to populate it with is where his style stood out : Crispin Glover, John Hurt, Robert Mitchum, Iggy Pop, Gibby Haines, Gabrielle Byrne, Billy Bob Thornton, Alfred Molina and more drive home Depp’s “fish out of water” characterization convincingly. Based on its period-piece designation, Dead Man signalled a drastic leap in style utilization for Jarmusch, a creative rarified air that he would return to for several future productions.

#ChiefDoomsday #doomonfilm #JimJarmusch #PermanentVacation #StrangerThanParadise #DownByLaw #MysteryTrain #NightOnEarth #DeadMan #GhostDogTheWayOfTheSamurai #CoffeeAndCigarettes #BrokenFlowers #TheLimitsOfControl #OnlyLoversLeftAlive #Paterson #TheDeadDon'tDie

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katikacreations · 4 years

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(Cover illustration by @clowncauldron ) LINK TO AO3 VERSION IN THE NOTES! Formatting is better on AO3, it’s easier to read over there!

SUMMARY: Gyro can’t fix Boyd’s glitching problem, so he asks Dr. Von Drake for advice. Boyd goes to a pool party and confesses to Huey that his new home life with Gyro isn’t exactly perfect.

2BO, you are not evil! You are good! You’re more than your programming! You are a definitely real boy! Gyro’s own words echoed in his head as he tried to sleep on the flight back to Duckburg.

It was a gruelling twelve hours on a cargo plane like the Sunchaser, but if one was willing to put up with the discomfort and inconvenience of being stashed between boxes of freight, it was worth it. Mr. McDuck didn’t charge for employees to hitch a ride on cargo planes that were already scheduled, and there was no TSA screening for private cargo flights, leaving from private airfields, which was a big help when you were traveling with hyper-advanced combat technology like the Gizmosuit and 2BO.

2BO. Boyd. Whatever you called it, the android was potentially very dangerous. It had been able to override Dr. Akita’s programming and choose its own actions, which had saved both Gyro and Fenton’s lives, but how? Asking an AI to ignore its programming was like asking a human being to ignore their instincts, like trying to inhale underwater, or sticking your hands into a fire. It could be done, but it was difficult and sometimes impossible.

Whatever Dr. Akita had programmed into 2BO had become lower priority and less important than the android’s own, self-created programming, even if Akita’s programming was older. That’s the only way that 2BO could have possibly overridden the commands.

It had to be the result of twenty years of independence. 2BO had gone so long without anyone to give it orders, it must have learned to make choices for itself, otherwise it would never have survived as long as it did. It was a learning system, so the ability to re-evaluate and change its own programming over time to adapt to new situations was integral.

But was 2BO a real boy? Gyro had said the words, but he knew of course that they weren’t true. 2BO was a machine that emulated a real boy very convincingly, but that did not make it a human being. Gyro felt a twinge of guilt for speaking such nonsense out loud in front of God and everybody, but he’d had no other choice. 2BO hadn’t responded to anything else, and that phrase had clearly been lodged deep in its memory as something significant, even if it was just nonsense spoken by an immature and naive younger version of himself. Gyro had tried everything else he could think of before resorting to that meaningless platitude.

It had worked, though. Gyro and Fenton were both still alive. 2BO was with them, had circumvented Dr. Akita’s override programming. They were all headed back to Duckburg, safe and sound.

2BO wasn’t a real boy. What 2BO was, Gyro wasn’t sure yet.

Gyro Gearloose was a proud man, and he’d earned the right to that through a life of hard work. He knew he was smart and wasn’t about to partake of the sin of false modesty. He was justifiably proud of his superior intellect, his ability to keep discovering new truths of the universe, and to keep designing and creating new and imaginative technology over the years.

He’d started inventing when he’d been just barely old enough to pick up a screwdriver, and he hadn’t stopped in the forty-three years since. He did the work because he loved it, because it was the most fulfilling thing in the world for him, because nothing else compared to the satisfaction that came with seeing an idea from his head come together in his hands and finally become a fully-formed creation that existed in the real world.

Other people took weekends and nights off because they worked to live, but Gyro lived to work. The little moments of life - visiting family, spending time with friends, “relaxing” and “resting” - were obstacles between him and getting back to the work he loved with his whole heart. They were distractions, necessary evils he was occasionally forced to bow to, but they would never be the thing which drove him. Gyro lived to discover, imagine, build and create. So anything that got in the way of that was quickly pushed to the side.

This presented a problem. Being a very proud man, Gyro was not particularly practiced at asking for help. It took him a long time to realize when he needed help, and even longer to figure out how to ask for it.

2BO had started living with Gyro after their return from Tokyolk, and Gyro suddenly found himself thrust into the position of not only trying to fix the android’s damaged programming (an ongoing, unresolved issue), but also having to provide daily guidance for something that acted very much like a child.

He was being forced by circumstance to act as a caretaker and to parent. Needless to say, that was not a skill set Gyro had honed, and it wasn’t a job he wanted to do. He had no aspirations of being a father or having children, but 2BO constantly pushed him into that role with each new interaction.

It wasn’t all bad of course: 2BO was pleasant enough to be around, so it took some time before things reached critical mass. 2BO could take care of itself, was self-reliant for the most part, and was often helpful around the lab with its superior strength, lightning-fast processing speed, and its ability to withstand deadly radiation.

But 2BO wanted continual attention from Gyro, and he didn’t have the patience for it. 2BO constantly wanted to play games, and every night it asked Gyro to read it a “bedtime story”, even though 2BO didn’t actually sleep.

Generally Gyro just dismissed the requests, and told the android to go play with the McDuck children, or Lil’ Bulb. He’d tried to read to 2BO once or twice, but the android had complained when Gyro started reading articles from scientific journals out loud, so they didn’t do that anymore.

All of that was bad enough, but it was the incessant questions that finally pushed Gyro too far.

“Why did swear words get invented if we’re not allowed to say them?”

“How did people make the first tools if they didn’t have any tools?”

“”Huey, Duey and Louie are triplets. Did they all come out of one egg or were they in three separate eggs?”

“How did Ms. Della lay three eggs that big?”

"Where do thoughts come from?"

“Are there infinite words?”

“No, 2BO, but there are infinite numbers.”

“Well if there is a word for every number, then there must be infinite words.”

“How do I know that I’m real?”

“What happens to a person when they die?”

“What did it feel like on your last day of being a child?”

“Why do people hold hands?”

“Well, adults hold children by the hand to make sure they don’t fall down or run into traffic.”

“Then why do adults sometimes hold hands?”

“I don’t know,” said Gyro, who had never actually held hands with anyone after his eleventh birthday. He’d never experienced the urge, either. Why did adults hold hands? “Maybe to restrain the person they’re with, to keep them from leaving.”

Gyro Gearloose needed help.

From a technical, legal point of view, 2BO was not his responsibility. He’d only been an assistant on the project, which had begun years before Gyro had even set foot in Japan. The reason he’d taken the fall for the destruction of Tokyolk was because they had needed someone to blame for the catastrophe, and he’d been the only available target after Dr. Akita disappeared. None of it was Gyro’s fault, but he’d suffered for it regardless.

He’d done jail time, lost his scholarship to the Tokyolk Institute of Technology, and had to start his doctorate over from scratch at the University of Tennessee-Knoxville years later when the disaster with 2BO was no longer so fresh in everyone’s minds. Gyro had paid for what happened in Tokyolk many times over, and he was only just starting to dig himself out of that hole.

Despite all that, morally he felt an obligation to 2BO. He had been there when the android first activated. He’d spent months programming, teaching, and training it to act as much like a person as possible. The fact that it was struggling with all of that now was Gyro’s fault. He’d been a naive, sentimental idiot in his youth and instead of letting 2BO be the weapon Dr. Akita had designed it to be, he’d forced it into an eternal game of playing pretend, and now 2BO was barely functional as a result.

He could think of few worse fates for an artificial intelligence. To be shackled and bound to arbitrary human standards of behavior, to waste all of it’s mental powers on trying to convincingly present itself as a human child when in reality, it was so much more. Gyro felt sorry for it.

Gyro Gearloose needed help. He needed a specialist.

He offloaded the onerous task of seeking assistance to Fenton.

“I need you to find a specialist to help with 2BO’s glitching problem,” he told him one night, as Fenton was on his way home.

“What?” Fenton called back, his foot holding the elevator door open as he leaned back into the airlock that connected the elevators to the lab floor to hear Gyro better.

“Find a specialist to help with 2BO’s glitching!” Gyro shouted back.

“A specialist to help with Boyd’s glitches?” Fenton called back. The elevator attempted to close on Fenton, and he put his arm up to make it stop. The door pushed against his hand briefly before sliding away from the resistance. “What kind of specialist?”

The elevator began to make a high-pitched squealing sound, protesting the fact that it was being held open.

“I don’t know!” Gyro shouted back. “A programmer, I guess! Someone who knows Fortran 77, C++, MATLAB, Python, and can handle system architecture of at least 100 billion bits.”

“Not asking for much, are you?” Fenton replied with a level of sarcasm Gyro knew his assistant wouldn’t dare to voice if he was in the same room as him.

“Just let me know when you find someone!”

It was nearly a week later when the topic came up again. Gyro was attempting to troubleshoot a glitch in 2BO that was triggered every time the android heard the word pineapple. At this point the list of things that could trigger a glitch was truly overwhelming. A few days ago 2BO had nearly destroyed someone’s house because he heard a dog barking. Thankfully, the McDuck family had covered it up, blaming a minor earthquake for the damage.

The android sat on a table beside the lab’s Cray XT3 computer terminal. 2BO was powered down, eyes closed and body slumped forward, cables connecting it to the Cray’s data ports. The monitor was awash with seemingly endless lines of code from the core dump they’d just done, and Gyro was pain-stakingly working his way through them, searching for the source of the problem.

“Dr. Gearloose! I’ve gotten some replies from the people I contacted about helping with Boyd,” Fenton said, approaching with a stack of envelopes in hand.

Gyro glanced away from his work only long enough to see the paper envelopes. “You wrote physical letters? No wonder it took them so long to respond.”

“In this day and age, a personal touch like a paper letter can really help make a good impression,” Fenton said. “Also, people familiar with the programming languages you asked for all skew older.”

Gyro made a noise that indicated he’d lost interest in the conversation and that Fenton should move on. The man had gotten better at reading him, and, instead of making further small talk, he went to start opening the pile of letters.

“Alright, let’s see,” Fenton said, and Gyro marked where he was in the code so he could come back to it later, deciding to take a break. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate properly with Fenton talking and rustling around nearby. He took the opportunity to take off his glasses and massage around his closed eyes.

“Yes? Get on with it, Inter--Assistant.”

“Eh, espere,” Fenton said, and Gyro heard the rapid fluttering of papers as Fenton fumbled with them. “I… This doesn’t make sense. They all say… ‘No’, ‘No’, ‘No’, ‘No’, ‘Hell no’, ‘Contact me again and I’ll get a restraining order?!’ ”

“What did you write to them, Assistant?” Gyro demanded, though he already had a hunch of what might have gone wrong.

“I--What did I do? Nada! Nothing unusual! I just said that you were looking for someone with the skills you listed, to consult with on a technical problem you were having.”

“Did you put my name on them?” Gyro asked, wanting to confirm his suspicions.

“Of course I did!” Fenton said. “It’s your lab! Who would I tell them was writing, the Queen of England? Lin-Manuel Miranda? Spider-Ham?! I used the lab stationary that has Dr. Von Drake crossed out and your name written in the margins.”

“You idiot,” Gyro said, but he was more tired than angry. “Did you forget that I’m a pariah in the scientific community? People still blame me for what happened in Japan with 2BO twenty years ago, and if they’d started to forget, last month’s incident made it the hot new gossip all over again. I thought you were smart enough to figure that out and put your own name instead. I didn’t realize I had to tell you everything.”

Fenton’s face tightened the more Gyro spoke, taking the scolding without any further attempt at making excuses, which was a relief. Gyro hated when people couldn’t keep it together.

“Considering your usual tendency to overdo things, should I assume that you’ve written to every programmer in the United States that fits my requirements, and all those bridges have now been thoroughly burnt?” Gyro asked with some venom.

“Also a few in México and Canada,” Fenton said, shrinking in on himself with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gearloose, I didn’t mean to cause trouble for--”

“Go… Do something else. Away from me,” Gyro said, struggling not to shout at the other man. “We’ll have to continue working on 2BO without assistance.”

Huey loved planning things. Oftentimes he found himself making plans for events that would never even happen. The process of planning and figuring out all the details just felt good, even if he never got outside of the planning stage. He could spend hours daydreaming about parties, expeditions, and camping trips.

Planning was his favorite part of any adventure, and he loved going over maps and charts with Uncle Scrooge, observing how the old man did it and trying to learn something from it.

So planning for their first ever pool party with their extended group of friends was beyond exciting. It wasn’t just a fantasy scenario that had no hope of happening. Their friends were really all coming over for a day of fun in the pool, and Mrs. Beakley had even given Huey a budget for buying snacks and party supplies.

He’d scoured the Pinfeather app looking for ideas all week, spent days creating pool-themed decorations, and all of yesterday preparing dishes so there would be a variety of healthy and fun food available, no matter what kind of dietary restrictions their friends might have. He’d thought of everything and was extremely proud of how it had all come together. Nothing could possibly go wrong when he’d done such a thorough job of planning things.

Everything was going completely wrong!

The party had been in full swing for a couple of hours, and Huey couldn’t bring himself to go into the water or join in with the others. Nobody was eating his lovingly crafted healthy snacks. His brothers had taken one look at Huey’s Fun Summer Dessert Pizza, his Gluten-free tortilla chips and strawberry corn salsa, his hotdog sliders with mango and pineapple chutney, and they had started raiding the pantry, helping their guests to microwaved hot wings, cheese-wiz, mini pizza bagels, potato chips, and Pep soda.

Lena, Violet and Webby (who wasn’t technically a guest but Huey had counted her as one for the sake of his logistics) seemed to be having plenty of fun on their own without the piles of pre-made water balloons that were stacked on a pool float bobbing around in the water, or the board games Huey had arranged by the neat stacks of towels and sunscreen. Lena had turned off Huey’s Summer Pool Party Fun Mix five minutes after her arrival and plugged in her own phone to play the newest Featherweights album. Violet had complimented him on the decorative wreath made of novelty cocktail umbrellas and swords at the front door, but Huey wasn’t sure if she had been employing sarcasm or not.

Louie climbed out of the pool and shook the water off his feathers. Huey felt too miserable to even bother flinching away. What did it matter? He was in swim trunks anyway.

“How come you’re just sitting over here by yourself?” Louie asked, picking up a bag of chips and shoving a handful into his mouth as he sat down next to Huey.

“No reason,” Huey mumbled. He was saved from further conversation when an app on his phone told him there was someone at the front door. “Someone’s at the door, it’s gotta be Boyd! I’ll go let him in.”

“Robo-Boyd?” Louie called after him, tone incredulous. “Why’d you invite him? Can he even go in the water?”

“Boyd! The party started hours ago, is everything okay?” Huey asked as he flung open the front door. Boyd stood there wearing a Hawaiian shirt with anchors and ships on it, red swim trunks, and his red anti-laser sunglasses. He was carrying a large plastic tupperware container.

“I’m sorry for arriving late.” Boyd said, holding the tupperware out for Huey to take. “Yes, everything’s fine now. I brought this for the party, I hope everyone likes it.”

Huey vaguely remembered reading something about it being polite in Japan to bring a gift with you when visiting someone’s home. He took the plastic container and tried to guess what might be inside it by the weight and the black and white color he could discern through the semi-opaque cover.

“Oh, thanks for bringing something!” Huey said. “What is it?”

“A cookies and cream sheet cake.”

Everyone was going to love that, Huey thought with a mix of envy and embarrassment. Why was Boyd better at understanding regular people than he was? Shouldn’t Boyd be at a disadvantage, since he was a literal computer and Huey was a flesh and blood kid?

“Awesome. Come on, let’s go out back so I can introduce you to everybody,” Huey said.

“I’m excited to meet Webby’s friends, Lena and Violet,” Boyd said, closing the door behind them as they walked through the house.

“Why’d you show up so late? That’s not like you.” Even though Boyd said everything was fine, Huey couldn’t stop himself from worrying. Both he and Boyd were usually very punctual.

“I was helping Mr. Gizmoduck clean up a shipping tanker accident in Audubon Bay. I wanted to send you a text, but the signal was bad. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay! I’m just glad it wasn’t anything too dangerous and that you’re safe,” Huey answered in a rush, not wanting Boyd to feel guilty for trying to be a hero. He knew that ever since they’d returned from Tokyolk, the android boy had spent a lot of his time helping people all around Duckburg and St. Canard.

“I think it’s really cool that you’ve been helping out Gizmoduck,” Huey said, and Boyd flashed him a huge, brilliant smile that made Huey’s chest feel funny. He smiled back at Boyd.

“Hi, I’m Boyd, a definitely real boy!” Boyd announced, offering his hand to Violet, who shook it, and Lena, who didn’t.

“I’m Violet. You’re in the same Junior Woodchuck troop as Huey, right?”

“Affirmative! I’m a member of Junior Woodchuck troop 15. You recently became a Senior Junior Woodchuck. You have more badges than 86.2% of the other members in our age range. I think that’s very admirable.”

“Cool,” Said Lena indifferently. “So you’re Huey’s friend? Where are you from?”

“I was born in Tokyolk. Where are you from, Lena?”

“Uh, let’s not talk about that,” Lena replied uneasily.

“Why not? I answered your question,” Boyd said.

“Lena’s kind of been through a lot recently,” Huey said, interrupting the conversation before it could get any more confrontational. “Talking about family stuff is hard for her.”

“Oh,” Boyd said. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know.”

“It’s whatever,” Lena said with a shrug, radiating a cool indifference that Huey envied a little.

“Boyd’s an android,” Huey explained, “But he’s also just a kid like any of us.” This revelation seemed to soften Lena’s attitude.

“This is my first time attending a pool party. I’ve also been to a birthday party. Those are all the parties I have been to,” Boyd said.

“You know what? This is our first pool party, too,” Lena said, smiling at Boyd. “And I’m having a great time. Do you eat food?”

“Yeah, I love eating food!” Boyd said, as the group made their way over to the snack table. “I need to consume nutrients and calories to maintain my biological components.”

“Me too,” Lena said.

“You planned this whole party, right Huey?” Violet asked. “I think the streamers between the umbrellas and the colorful leis really create a festive atmosphere.”

“Thanks, I made them by hand,” Huey said, grateful that someone appreciated just how much effort it had taken to prepare everything.

“And I’m guessing Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum weren’t a lot of help,” Lena added, unwrapping a chocolate ding-dong and taking a bite.

“Which one of us is Tweedle-Dee and which of us is Tweedle-Dum?” Dewey called from the pool. Lena ignored them and looked at Huey expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Huey laughed a little, and he hugged his arms to himself to try and ease how awkward he felt with the older girl’s attention on him.

“Yeah, they weren’t really interested. Planning stuff is more my thing.”

“Well, you’re good at it,” Lena said bluntly, “They’re probably too lazy to try and compete with someone who tries as hard as you do.”

“Who are you calling lazy?” Louie called from the pool float he was lounging on.

“You!” Lena shouted back.

“Fair, that’s an accurate assessment, carry on,” Louie replied as he floated away.

Maybe the party wasn’t going that bad. Now that Boyd had arrived, Huey felt a lot more confident, and watching Boyd enjoying himself made Huey happy.

“I have an easier time breaking down and extracting nutrients from simple, unprocessed foods,” Boyd said, as he polished off a second plate of cheese-and-fruit skewers. “I don’t have a sense of taste, but I’m sure these are really yummy. My compositional sensors say the fruit is at peak ripeness and that the cheese is at an ideal temperature.”

“Glad you like them,” Huey said.

“You’re welcome. Should we go in the pool?” Boyd said.

“Can you go in the pool?” Huey asked. “Aren’t you too heavy?”

“Dr. Gearloose installed automatic arm floaties on me this morning.” There was a loud hissing sound as metal panels on Boyd’s upper arms retracted and PVC material inflated with air, outfitting Boyd with swim fins. “They’re rated up to 145 kg which is twice my weight. He assured me that with these, I would be able to remain safely buoyant while in the water.”

“If Uncle Donald could install those on us, he would,” Huey said.

“So where did you get the cookies and cream cake from? Dr. Gearloose didn’t make it, did he?” Huey asked. The sun had started to set, and the pool lights were on. The other kids were all playing with glow-sticks and glow-in-the-dark bracelets and necklaces Huey had bought in bulk online. A little distance away, Mom and Uncle Donald were barbequing some burgers and hot dogs for dinner.

Boyd hadn’t taken any of the glow-in-the-dark stuff, but he seemed happy to sit on the edge of the pool next to Huey, their feet dangling in the water. Boyd’s eyes were lit from within, like flashlights, as the daylight around them grew dimmer. His tinted sunglasses turned the light red, and it reminded Huey of the taillights of a car.

“No, of course Dr. Gearloose didn’t make the cake, he’s much too busy for that kind of frivolity. I went to the employee cafeteria at The Bin to buy some slices of cake, and one of the ladies who works there asked why I was buying eight pieces. I explained to her that I was going to a party, and she asked why I was by myself in the cafeteria at 9AM, and I told her I didn’t have--”

“Uh, I think I get the general gist of what happened,” Huey said. “So she made the cake for you?”

“Yes! She said that she was certain it would be popular, and I think her assessment was correct. Its sugar content is similar to snacks that children in our age range typically enjoy.”

Even though it was getting dark outside, the air was still almost unbearably hot. It had been over ninety degrees every day for the past two weeks in Duckburg, and the heat lingered. Cicadas buzzed in the dark, and occasionally a frog croaked.

“Kids, time for dinner!” Donald called. Gradually they all set aside their games, dried off with towels, and made their way to the picnic table that had been set out for dinner in the garden. Boyd grabbed Huey’s arm before he could follow, stopping him.

“What’s wrong?” Huey asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Boyd said. “I just… Wanted to thank you for inviting me to your pool party. It’s been a lot of fun.”

“Well, don’t worry, the fun’s not done yet,” Huey said. Maybe Boyd was just sad that the party was almost over? “We’re still going to tell scary stories around a campfire, and Uncle Scrooge and Mom always have some great ones.”

“That sounds great. I’m excited to hear the stories,” Boyd said, his grip on Huey’s arm relaxing until the android’s hand slipped down and rested against Huey’s. They were holding hands. Huey felt that same funny feeling in his chest from before, and suddenly the rest of the world around them was weirdly quiet. No frogs, no cicadas, no Uncle Donald arguing with Mom. Just him and Boyd, holding hands on a summer night.

“...But something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Huey asked.

Boyd didn’t answer immediately, which was unusual for the android. Huey squeezed his hand gently, trying to encourage the other boy to share his feelings.

“When I lived with Mr. Beaks, he played with me all the time for the first few days, but then he started ignoring me. When I lived with the Drakes, I could play with Doofus any time I wanted, but he didn’t want to play with me, and said things that made me feel bad. Mr. and Mrs. Drake were nice, but if they paid too much attention to me, Doofus always got mad…”

“I like living with Dr. Gearloose better than any of the others,” Boyd said. “But sometimes I feel lonely. He doesn’t have a lot of time to play with me either, and if I distract Mr. Fenton or Mr. Manny from work too much, Dr. Gearloose yells at them. At night when he goes to sleep, he makes me stay in the closet, so I won’t wake him up by moving around, and he doesn’t like reading me bedtime stories.

“Is something wrong with me?” Boyd asked. “It feels like every time I join a family, they end up getting bored with me, or they don’t really want me around.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you!” Huey said. “A lot of kids feel that way. Sometimes parents or other kids don’t have time to play with us, sometimes they don’t want to play with us, and it does feel lonely. Also, not everyone has a good family. Sometimes people just don’t get along.”

“What do regular kids do if they’re in a bad family?” Boyd asked.

“Honestly? I think they’re just stuck when that happens. Running away and living on your own is dangerous and hard. But you don’t have that problem! Since you’re a super-strong robot, if you want to leave, you can just go.”

“Sort of,” Boyd said. “It’s… Not that simple. I’m a robot, but I’m bio-mechanical. I still need to eat and charge some of my power cells occasionally. Getting food and access to electricity when I’m on my own can be hard. But the worst part is… I really don’t like being alone. I like to be around people.”

There was such a sadness in Boyd’s voice in that moment that Huey felt a need to do more than just hold hands. “Would it be okay if I hugged you?” he asked, not knowing what to say or how else to make Boyd feel better.

“Yes,” Boyd said, looking delighted by the offer. He held his arms out stiffly towards Huey, and it looked so silly that Huey struggled not to laugh.

“Okay.” Huey carefully put his arms around Boyd, hugging him tight.

“BOYS!” Della shouted from a distance, making Huey nearly jump out of his skin. “Come eat before the food gets cold! C’mon! You got water in your ears or what?”

“Coming, Mom!” Huey shouted back, grabbing Boyd by the hand and pulling him towards where the rest of their family and friends were gathered.

Once a month, Gyro had a video chat with Dr. Ludwig Von Drake. The man had mentored him when he made his second attempt at his doctorate, and though he wasn’t always easy to have a long-distance conversation with, Gyro found the exercise useful in a variety of ways. Sometimes he could bounce ideas off the older scientist and find better solutions he might not have thought of on his own. Sometimes they talked about world events and science news. Sometimes it just felt good to talk to someone else who felt as if they were remotely close to Gyro’s level of intellect.

Dr. Von Drake might have been a bit scatterbrained, but he was brilliant and a real renaissance man to boot. Gyro admired him tremendously, though he did take the man’s words with a grain of salt due to the aforementioned scatterbrained-ness.

Gyro liked to have something mindless he could work on while he was on a call with someone, even someone as interesting to talk to as Dr. Von Drake. Having to sit still and focus on a conversation and struggle with eye contact on a webcam was a surefire recipe for not only boredom but also his attention wandering away. On particularly bad days, he might end up feather-picking, which was an embarrassing nervous tic he’d spent decades trying to conquer.

So today he was shoulders deep repairing a jet engine (burnt out courtesy of Launchpad McQuack) when his conversation with Dr. Von Drake shifted from the doctor’s latest oil painting experiments to what Gyro had been up to recently.

“Nothing that exciting, I’m afraid,” Gyro said. “It feels like all I do anymore is repair things. A never-ending cycle of maintenance, something which should have been passed on to technicians instead of taking up my valuable time! I’m always chasing after old projects, trying to keep them from falling apart. The Gizmo-suit. And Lil’ Bulb. And--”

“Dr. Gearloose,” 2BO said, suddenly appearing at Gyro’s side. “Can I go over to Huey’s to play?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you!” 2BO chirped enthusiastically as it activated its rocket jets, the turbines spinning up rapidly.

“Just make sure you don’t stay out too late!” Gyro shouted, raising his voice so 2BO could hear him over the roar of its propulsion system.

“I’ll be home at seven!” 2BO said with a smile, rising from the floor and flying out one of the emergency air lock exits. Gyro could see the android shoot out under the water, flying past the lab’s windows as it gained altitude and finally vanished from sight, leaving nothing but a flurry of bubbles in its wake.

“My goodness, what a charming little boy!” Dr. Von Drake said. “Is he yours or perhaps the child of a coworker?”

“Oh, it’s not a child,” Gyro explained. “That’s 2BO, it’s just an android I helped create as a student.”

“Just an android? Gyro, my boy, he is quite remarkable! Even with the rocket jets for feet, I was entirely ready to accept that he was a real boy. Why haven’t you ever shown him to me before? You’ve never even mentioned him.”

Gyro had been dreading this particular topic, though he’d always known it would come up someday. He set down his tools and wiped the oil from his hands, fidgeting with the shop towel as he tried to pick his words.

“It’s a long story, sir.”

“That’s no problem, I have long ears!” Dr. Von Drake replied, which was nonsensical enough that it made Gyro chuckle.

“That is manifestly untrue.” Gyro felt himself smiling just a little. Though they were thousands of miles apart and only interacting through an impersonal and cold computer screen, Dr. Von Drake’s warm and nonjudgmental presence still felt as reassuring now as it had when Gyro had been a young man. “But since you insist… Before I came to work for you, I worked for Dr. Inutaro Akita in Tokyolk.”

“I’ve met him,” Dr. Von Drake said, prompting Gyro to continue.

“He was already working on 2BO when I started assisting him. It was designed to be an autonomous defense drone, capable of interacting with end users in a naturalistic way. But something went wrong.”

“With 2BO?”

“No, with Dr. Akita. Originally I thought it was a fault in 2BO, but it was just following orders. Dr. Akita ordered 2BO to go on a rampage, and it performed exactly as designed.”

“That’s awful!” Dr. Von Drake exclaimed. “But now that you mention it, I remember reading something about a robot attacking Tokyolk way back when. It’s hard to believe all that destruction was caused by little 2BO… But if he was created by Dr. Akita I can’t say I’m too surprised. The man has ‘mad scientist’ practically stamped on his forehead. He’s a terrible sore loser. Matilda said he’s not allowed at the annual canasta game after what happened to that china cabinet.”

Gyro was morbidly curious to know what had happened that would make the sweet-tempered Matilda McDuck ban someone from the International Robot Designer Union’s annual card game, but he knew better than to ask. Dr. Von Drake was likely to actually tell him the whole story and that could take hours - hours that Gyro didn’t want to spare.

“So how is it that he’s come to live with you now?” Dr. Von Drake asked. “The incident in Tokyolk was a long time ago.”

“Somehow 2BO turned up here in Duckburg,” Gyro explained. “I had no idea that 2BO was even operational anymore. I thought it had been destroyed, but it wasn’t and now it’s here, and it’s just another thing I have to constantly do maintenance on.

“It has these terrible glitches that are triggered by random stimuli. I’ve been working on it for a whole month, and it seems like the problems just keep getting worse. I’m not making any progress. I told Fenton to get in touch with some programmers to find a specialist to help me resolve the issue, but--”

“Tell me more about these glitches,” Dr. Von Drake said. “Maybe I can help you figure it out.”

“Well, as I said, 2BO was originally designed to be a defense drone, so obviously it has a weapons system.”

“Obviously.”

“But 2BO’s also a highly complex learning system. It was meant to interact with people the way another person might, and that kind of processing power normally takes up a much larger footprint than 2BO has.”

“It’s not a remote system?” Dr. Von Drake asked. This wasn’t an unreasonable question, as most AI’s of 2BO’s complexity were at least the size of a car. There weren’t that many out there that Gyro was aware of, but they did exist. He assumed that most of them were confidential government projects. None of them were really like 2BO though. Advanced AI technology had been a stagnant field since the end of the Cold War.

“No, 2BO is entirely self-contained. It can be remote controlled in theory, but, under normal circumstances, all it needs to operate is onboard.”

“And you say it’s been functioning independently for… How long?”

“Twenty years on its own without meaningful human intervention. No maintenance, no repairs.”

“Remarkable!” Dr. Von Drake took off his glasses to polish them, something he usually did when he was excited. “Can you send me the latest core memory dump? I’m sure it’s a doozy of a file, but I’d like to look it over.”

“Of course, though… Hmm.” Gyro considered the reality of sending the file over the internet. “It’s almost a terabyte.”

“That’s not so large, we can keep talking while it sends over the WAN. A terabyte shouldn’t take more than half an hour.”

The suggestion of sending the data across the McDuck Enterprises’ global intranet made Gyro hesitate. It was one thing to send Dr. Von Drake a funny cat video through their company emails, it was another thing entirely to send proprietary data that wasn’t official McDuck Enterprises work through the data pipeline that Mr. McDuck so generously provided to their labs.

“Are you sure that’s alright?” Gyro asked. He’d long given up working on anything while having this conversation, and was watching Dr. Von Drake on his desktop monitor while picking at the feathers on his left wrist. “I know you’re Mr. McDuck’s brother-in-law, but it’s still using company resources for a personal project.”

“Pish-tosh! Don’t worry about it so much, my boy. After all, are you debugging Boyd on a personal computer, or are you using McDuck resources to do it?”

“I am using the McDuck lab equipment,” Gyro admitted grudgingly. “I’ve been here so long, I always think of it as my lab equipment. I do a lot of work here that isn’t strictly for Mr. McDuck, but this is different.”

“How so?”

“Those other things I work on are never anything this important,” Gyro said. “Like using the laser cutter to cut out pieces when I was making myself a suit of armor, or when I made myself a new headset. I designed it on my workstation using my company edition of CAD and printed it with the 3D printer after hours. I bought my own filament and used that for the build, but it’s a small project, and if Mr. McDuck wanted to copyright the design and mass produce them, it wouldn’t matter, even if I just designed it for my personal use.

“2BO is different,” Gyro continued. “Both the chassis and the programming are proprietary designs that belong to Akita International.”

“That company went bankrupt and ceased to exist years ago,” Dr. Von Drake pointed out. “You don’t expect them to show up on your doorstep and demand custody of 2BO, do you?”

“I don’t know,” Gyro admitted, wincing as he tugged a feather loose from his wrist. He set it down on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to stop picking at himself. “Dr. Akita is in jail, but he does still have living family. And there could possibly be old creditors that might come after 2BO if they realize it’s still functional. Anyway, what I’m really concerned about is that if I send the data through the McDuck Enterprises system, then they’ll have legal grounds to claim the data as theirs.”

“Please, Scroogey wouldn’t do something like that!” Dr. Von Drake said.

“Mr. McDuck might not, but the company absolutely would,” Gyro said, recalling his many unpleasant encounters with the McDuck Enterprises’ Board of Directors. “I’ll ship it to you overnight on a jump drive. You can tell me what you think of it when it arrives.”

“Alright, alright. But back to the subject at hand, you were talking about the hardware and software that your android runs on.”

“Right. 2BO’s hardware is a combination of chemical and crystal processors operating a GIST framework, using a program derived from the FELT system.”

“Ahh, like TOODLES! You remember TOODLES from when you worked here, don’t you? He’s built on crystal microprocessors and a GIST framework as well.”

Unfortunately Gyro did remember TOODLES, the omnipresent AI that controlled Dr. Von Drake’s lab at McDuck castle in Scotland. It wasn’t that there was anything particularly wrong with TOODLES, but the AI had been designed as a caretaker, a nanny of sorts, and it tended to treat everyone it came into contact with like a child. It got on Gyro’s nerves very quickly.

“I do remember TOODLES,” Gyro said, as diplomatically as possible. “I didn’t realize it shared the same architecture as 2BO. I guess I never really looked under the hood.” In truth, Gyro had avoided TOODLES whenever possible in the seven years he’d worked for Dr. Von Drake.

“And that’s a shame, TOODLES is quite the complex fellow. He’s even older than your 2BO, born in 1980.”

“Activated. You mean activated in 1980,” Gyro corrected, but to no avail as Dr. Von Drake simply continued on.

“However, I think the primary difference is that TOODLES has absolutely no conflict programming, as he is not a weapon, and that he has never been on his own. When he learns new things, I’m right here to help him through it, and to make sure TOODLES has properly understood whatever his new experience was. 2BO, I assume, has many different layers of programming, from his weapons systems to navigation to human interaction. Living on his own for twenty years with no one to help him properly understand the things he has experienced, well, I’m sure his code looks like a big plate of spaghetti by now!”

Two days later, Gyro received an email from Dr. Von Drake.

NEXT CHAPTER: Dr. Bara Summary: Fenton and Boyd chat on the way to the lab. Gyro introduces himself in the most melodramatic way possible, and Dr. Bara meets everyone at McDuck Enterprises R&D. Dr. Bara starts assessing Boyd and things get worse before they get better. Gyro thinks he's helping.

#ducktales #ducktales fanfic #gyro gearloose #b.o.y.d.#fenton crackshell cabrera #my art #fanfiction #the first law of robotics #fanfic

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