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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

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The Escape Route (Yan! Don Giorno x Fem!Reader)

A request from a lovely nonnie mouse asking how the Don would handle his darling attempting to escape from his home. A bit of a drawn out scenario... I really hope you enjoy the read.

TW: Manipulative relationship dynamics, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour

Word Count: 2.7k

Your brisk walk was slowly turning into a run as you worked your way through the busy streets of Naples. With your breathing ragged and eyes darting around to make sure nobody was on your tail, you tried to think about how best to put your escape plan back on track.

You knew that Giorno’s influence extended further than most, but you hadn’t expected him to have the power to derail every single option you had thought of to escape from his overpowering grip. You had been running around for hours now, from station to station, none would book you a ticket to anywhere, every cab ride was hastily halted after a dubious phone call… resulting in you being unwillingly ejected from the vehicle each time. So there you were, running into the more dangerous parts of Naples, frantically looking for some kind of shelter to house you while you thought of what you would do next.

Thankfully, you found a tiny inn, sparse amenities, small and far removed enough you thought, to not be on Giorno’s radar. The kindly old lady didn’t ask many questions, and you paid with the cash you had been slowly hiding away for such an event.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your relationship with Giorno had descended to this but you knew that if you stayed any longer his charming brand of captivity would best your common sense and you would be trapped forever. With Giorno, you had access to anything, no request was too demanding… in exchange though he required you to be within his confines at all times, listen to and obey his honeyed instructions with minimal fuss, and to not run off in the occasions when he did take you out of the mansion. I’m just keeping you safe he said… little did you know that the most dangerous one of all was the Don himself with his hypnotic gaze.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, it could have been much worse, he never harmed you physically, never pushed the intimacy boundaries further than you allowed… in your moments of weakness, it was you who had sought out his embrace. The absurdity of it all- vacillating between love and hate for this man, and so to protect the fraying thread that held your sanity together, you decided to make a run for it. It was not an impulsive idea, you had spent the better part of the year planning your grand escape, trying to imagine every way in which your plan could go awry and possible solutions to the problems. Ironically, this was a habit that you had picked up from Giorno himself, and should your plan actually work, it would be quiet poetic- escaping using the traits of your captor against him. You had gathered small amounts of cash here and there, not enough to rouse anyone’s suspicion, and made sure that any and all evidence of you memorizing the layout of the surrounding areas was completely erased. Perhaps the most difficult task of them all, was to lure Giorno into false sense of security regarding your disposition towards your situation. In the weeks leading up to your escape, you had flawlessly played the part of the dutiful ‘wife’, listening attentively, spoiling him with gentle touches and loving gazes, making sure to build up your affections gradually, as if they had been blooming naturally so as not to trigger any suspicion.

Finally, you saw your opportunity to make your move that morning. Giorno had to leave early to meet with a few associates from Japan, so you rose with him, and watched as he got ready, helping him with his hair and doing up his tie. Looking up to meet his crystalline eyes, you noticed he considered you with an expression you haven’t seen on him before.

“What is it tesoro? Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked in a gentle tone.

“You’re… just so beautiful… would you like to come with me today? I’m sure they would love to meet you… I call them associates but in actual fact one of them is a relative of mine. You’ll only be bored for a little while; after that we can do whatever you would like to,” he asked with a gentle smile. You thought about how you were going to answer, ultimately you knew you didn’t want to go, favoring your grand escape instead, but denying him that quickly would definitely set off alarm bells in his mind.

“Ah! Perhaps next time my love, I’m not going to be good company today, I woke up with a bit of a headache… I’ll probably go back to bed and sleep it off after you leave,”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you feel any better bella, I hate the fact that you’re hurting,” Giorno cupped your face in his hands and gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, “get some rest bella mio, I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” kissing you on the forehead he left without another word. Waiting for him to be completely out of the villa, you watched as his car exited the driveway before quietly packing what you could, mentally going over your checklist more times than you cared to count. Since your change in attitude, the staff at the villa were more accepting of your whims, partly to do with the fact that Giorno had instructed them to do so - within reason, but also, because you had won over their trust and if you had to be honest with yourself, there was nothing you could fault them for. The dynamic Giorno had with them was not ruled by fear, but rather by admiration… all of them being drawn in by his charisma. Managing to maneuver your way through the mansion and out an exit that saw you climbing over a hidden portion of the eastern wall surrounding the villa, you had finally been outside the confines of the villa on your own for the first time in well over a year.

In the car on the way to meet with his guests Giorno was preoccupied. He had noticed the gradual change in your behavior and as much as he would have loved to give you the benefit of the doubt, a nagging inclination that you might be lying always clouded his thoughts. He loved you- entirely- even though there were days in which you rejected his affections, he was patient with you… eventually you’d understand, the dangers that lurked in every corner made your captivity, as you so unceremoniously called it, a necessity. He had grown so accustomed to making decisions with little to no advice, he had adopted that stance in his personal life as well. He rationalized that once you had accepted the fact that his actions were all borne from his desire to protect you, your lives would be peaceful, until then, he would be patient, enduring your tantrums and snide remarks with the grace of an aristocrat… which only upset you further. To Giorno, you were to be looked after, protected- treasured, and so no matter how much you had tested his patience in the beginning, not once were you ever hurt or taken advantage of. Violence and shackles were much too unrefined for a gem like you, so to correct your behavior, the young don resorted to other, less threatening means of discipline.

“Don Giovanna? We have arrived,” shaken out of his musings by his consigliere, his attention was drawn to the fact that they had arrived at their destination ready to discuss the matters at hand.

“Thank you Lorenzo, would you check if the staff has everything ready while I greet our guests?”

“Of course, excuse me,” with that, Lorenzo had left, hastily attending to a call as he walked.

“Ah, welcome to Italy, I take it you and your associates have settled in well?” said Giorno with a polite bow, being mindful of the cultural conventions of his esteemed guests. Drinks were ordered and everyone present had settled down in the private lounge, except for Lorenzo who had been animatedly conversing on the phone for enough time to make his absence felt. Frustrated by what he was tasked to do, he abruptly ended his conversation and sought out Giorno to give him the news, finally, the staff at villa Giovanna had realized you were gone.

“Don…”

“The expression on your face can only mean one thing… when did they notice?”

“A few minutes ago, she couldn’t have gotten too gar given the timeframe… what would you like me to do?”

“You stay here and keep our guests company, I’ll handle this…” not even bothering to alert the driver, Giorno collected the keys from the valet and zoomed off. Making a short drive even shorter, he arrived home in foul mood, although he did assign some of the blame to himself, recognizing his fatal error when he ignored his gut feeling, he was disappointed at how easily you had managed to slip from his grasp and wondered if his staff had been plotting with you all along. He would have to address that later on though, his primary concern now was to locate you and bring you back home.

“Mista, I have a special request to make, please come to the villa, bring Fugo with you,” said Giorno in a quick call, there were few who he trusted more than his underbosses, and this task was something that required only the most competent people. After a short explanation of the situation at hand, both men had already started making calls to the relevant people in an attempt to thwart your plans.

You would think the most frightening thing about Giorno would be his god-like requiem ability. But over and above the raw power he possessed was his reach, the world seemed so small, as if it had rested comfortably in his elegant hands- and you had been getting reminders of this inescapable fate over and over again. By the time you had given up on the idea of escaping through any traditional means of transportation, you must have tried fifty different avenues, each attempt failing more spectacularly than the last. Having had enough, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would not be leaving Naples immediately, and found refuge in the outskirts of the city. You climbed the rickety staircase behind the lady as she prattled on about her day.

“Shall I get you something to eat dolcezza? You look like you could use something warm and comforting in your system. In fact, let me do just that, you get settled in so long,” said the innkeeper before you had a chance to interject. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the day, you took comfort in the fact that this place was so remote, you were almost certain you were safe for the meantime. The tiny bathroom was a far cry from the palatial one you had grown accustomed to while being in Giorno’s villa, but it served the same purpose, only this time, you had your freedom. The place was peaceful though aside from the sound of what must have been a car backfiring and the small creaks from the natural expansion and contraction of the dwelling, it was quiet enough for you to calm down and organize your thoughts. Now that you were comparatively more at ease than before, you felt the strain of the day in your body, aching muscles, sore feet and cuts and scrapes that began to smart affixed a slight grimace to your face as you rummaged through your belongings to find some sort of pain relief.

A sharp knock on the door disrupted your search. You stayed silent for a moment, contemplating if you should ignore it or answer.

“Dolcezza, I’ve brought you a small snack, you’re going to enjoy it,” you just wanted to crawl into bed and forget the day you had, but you also didn’t want to snub her kindness, you reached out to unlock and open the door.

“Buongiorno tesoro… enjoying your little excursion? Marina here was kind enough to show me to your room so I could surprise you… seems like it worked, look at this charming expression,” turning to the smiling woman, Giorno nodded for her to leave. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, you wanted to cry, to run, to jump right out through the hazy window but your feet were rooted to the ground.

“Well (y/n) … you’ve been running around Naples for the entire day, have you found what you’re looking for?” his usual honeyed tone was laced with derision as he critically eyed your surroundings. “is this what you were so desperate to escape to? Look at this place… look at the condition you’re in… how is any of this better than everything I’ve given you?”

“I have my freedom here…” was all you could muster as your mind raced thinking of how he had still managed to find you despite all the precautions you had taken. “Giorno, how…”

“How did I find you? I always have my ways…” he said, sauntering over to the window, opening it just enough to make eye contact with whoever was outside, dismissing them with a nonchalant wave of his gloved hand. Pulling out his cellphone, he showed you the opened application, explaining that he had been using it to track your location, following the signal from the diamond earrings he gifted you on your birthday, carelessly left on when you had made your hasty escape. In all fairness, you hadn’t considered that the dainty gems were anything more than that. Feeling your legs starting to give out under you at the revelation that you were the cause of your own undoing, you sat on the bed hanging your head in defeat.

“Freedom, you say? Tell me how has that worked for you?”

“That’s not fair! You’ve basically controlled every single encounter I’ve had, and even when I thought I had escaped you by coming here, you still somehow managed to manipulate the situation…” you shouted, tears of frustration running feely down your face.

“Stop being dramatic, the world is full of horrible people, everyone is looking out for themselves, I wish you would realize that… tell me tesoro, how many people turned you away? Threw you out of their cars, made up excuses to deny your requests? Not one of those people looked into those pleading eyes and thought you were worth helping. Why? Because people are selfish…”

“You… you threatened them all, you…”

“You give me too much credit, it’s not like I was going to kill them, I hate violence, despite your disappointingly low opinion of me, even you have to admit that I’ve never done anything to physically harm you… all I want is to protect you, you don’t understand how things work out there,”

“It’s not like you’ve ever given me the opportunity to find out how things are… I”

“Some people are just meant to be loved and protected tesoro, isn’t that enough? Why would you want to risk being hurt to get a taste of something that’s actually not even worth it… you’re not cut out for this life… I’ve been here so I know this isn’t what you deserve. You’re coming back home with me,”

“But, I- “ you attempted to interject but his intense glare halted you.

“(y/n), I’m very patient under most circumstances, but please don’t test me now, I won’t say it twice…” said Giorno with a slight bite to his voice, it was clear he was growing tired of this conversation, and you were losing your will to fight back. With a quivering lip and misty eyes, you moved to gather your belongings but was stopped by the young don, arguing that he can replace whatever is there, wanting no other reminders of this transgression to follow you both back. Resigning yourself to this fate, realizing there was nowhere beyond his reach, you grasped his outstretched arm and followed him to the car to return to your life of opulent captivity. Months and months of planning all resulting in nothing, it became glaringly obvious to you that escaping was futile…

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orange-waterfalls · 3 years

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Unnecessary Feelings

The Host x gn!reader

ty anon for the request

A/N: BRO. Bro. Bro I. I am so proud of this one don’t even look at me. Also happy spooky month! Might do something with that, idk though. This is more of another character study with the Host, I’ll be honest. I still think it’s pretty cute, though. I didn’t read back through this, lmk about any mistakes. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.4k

Unnecessary Feelings

Host isn’t particularly looking for a relationship, of any sort. Not necessarily. It would be nice, but it isn’t at the forefront of his mind. It’s not that important. Change is weird. He’s been in his same office, writing the same kind of stories, with the same kind of people. That’s fine. He likes that. He likes his novels, his protagonists, and his office.

He explained all of these things to Wilford and Darkiplier, but neither was having it. That’s how he ended up staying at the manor for a while, while his place was being “renovated”. He didn’t know how much he trusted Wilford to “renovate” correctly.

Wilford likes pink. A lot. Host doesn’t. He can't see it, but he knows it. Pink was loud. Pink smelled like raspberries and icing and cherry blossoms and shrimp. It sounded like fair music and joyful screaming and chalk scraping on the ground. It felt smooth and soft and squishy. It tasted like sugar, sugar, sugar, too much to be healthy. Pink made his brain hurt. He doesn’t like pink. Wilford likes pink. Wilford… Wilford fucking loves pink. And Wilford will say it’s pink, and Host will know it’s pink, and even though he can’t see it, he’ll be upset that it’s pink. He doesn’t like pink. He doesn’t know how to say it. So he doesn’t. And he copes.

He takes the opportunity to talk to the others staying at the manor, which was pretty much just Dr. Iplier and… you. Dr. Iplier was a… reasonable man. He was boring. Very boring, really. He directed every conversation to discuss your health or a weird patient he had recently, neither of which really interested the Host. He didn’t enjoy talking to Dr. Iplier too much.

You, however…

Were also kind of boring?

Well, you mostly just wandered around, reading, cleaning, sleeping, not doing much else. He didn’t initiate conversation and neither did you. If you sat next to him on the couch and he sat a little straighter and breathed a little faster, that was simply a coincidence. And the urge to talk to you about his novel for hours was simply boredom. And the desire to listen to you talk for hours was… it was none of your goddamn business is what it was. He didn’t like you, but he didn’t dislike you either. He felt nothing. You made him feel nothing. This didn’t mean anything.

Really.

It didn’t.

But, entirely too fast, Dark and Wil were done. Or rather, whoever they hired was done. Which was good. Host bid you two goodbye. Dr. Iplier told him to drink plenty of water but not too much, and you told him you’d keep an eye out for his newest novel. He felt like he should be blushing right now, he felt it in his face. Nobody commented, so he assumed he didn’t. He felt a thing happen in his chest as he looked at the two of you.

He didn’t like either of you, and if he kept telling himself that, maybe it would come true.

He received a new office. It was much cleaner and brighter, and he actually had room to think. There was an espresso machine in the corner atop a pink table, a “dandelion” yellow couch next to it, a pastel pink desk against the opposite wall, and a few “motivational” posters on the baby blue walls. At least from what he’d heard. Wilford did his best to explain the room. He appreciated that the walls were not, in fact, pink like he expected.

He had to walk around a few times, keep track of his steps, and get used to the new layout. It’s a good room. Clean. No nails sticking out of the floor, no rats scurrying around, no cobwebs, no holes, no nothing. Clean and quiet. Clean. And. Quiet.

…

He fucking hates the goddamn room.

Who likes silence? Who enjoys that? Who wants to be stuck in a suffocatingly clean office with nothing but their thoughts for hours at a time? Homicidal people, that’s who.

Ignore the fact that he has homicidal tendencies and has almost killed/has killed several people, that doesn’t matter right now.

He can just sit and deal. He can take the office, try to coax the rats into coming back, buy some spiders, and write. No big deal.

Except what if he didn’t deal? What if he told them he hated it and couldn’t work in these conditions? What if he was forced to stay at the manor again? What if he could… talk… and interact with people? Without anything barring him from doing so?

He’s… not lonely.

He’s not lonely.

He’s not.

But if he stays in the manor again while Wilford talks about how he has no taste and Darkiplier decides to be in charge of the renovation now, that’s not his fault.

Bim, Eric, and you were staying at the manor when he had to. For the second time. Bim had a thing for rom-coms and dramedy movies, and Eric had started to pick that thing up. You and Host also watched the movies, but whether you actually liked them was beyond him. Usually, you made fun of them together. He couldn’t see them, but he could hear a lot of the ridiculous dialogue. He could drop two random people in a closed-off room together and they’d have more chemistry than half of these Hallmark Christmas Movie couples. You were very quiet during “To All The Boys I Loved Before”, however, so either you loved it or you hated it. He couldn’t really tell.

You two talked a little less than before, you being preoccupied with Eric. Host was fine with that. He could just… talk to you whenever you were done. But you apparently had a low social battery and trapped yourself in a room whenever you were done talking to Eric. That was fine. Host didn’t need to be happy anyways.

He may or may not have showed up at your door first thing in the morning sometimes to get the chance to talk to you. You didn’t know, so it was fine.

But Eric and Bim were smart. They picked up on the Host’s… “feelings” and desire to talk to you. If either were in a room with you and Host, they immediately left so that you could talk. It worked, and Host was happy, but he felt kind of bad.

No. No he didn’t. He felt no emotion towards anyone or anything. The suit he bought for Bim and the journal he bought for Eric meant absolutely nothing. It was a business transaction. You can’t prove anything.

Somehow quicker than before, the room was fixed. Again. And you, Eric, and Bim saw him off. Eric’s voice sounded wet and Bim sounded a little sad as well. You sounded… fine. But he had a suspicion that you knew you were going to see him again soon. And Host was not upset, of course not. And if he was thankful his eyes weren’t exactly working properly because otherwise he might have shed a few tears, it was completely unrelated. You can’t prove anything.

The new room was completely black and white. Black laptop and a white desk with a black chair. White walls and a black floor. A white couch against the wall. No espresso machine this time, which slightly disappointed the Host.

Darkiplier sounded proud when he explained the room. Host could see why, it sounded very pretty. Which he tried to say when he turned to Darkiplier. But his traitorous mouth instead said:

“Host asks if this room is meant for the Host or you?”

The Host was teleported back to the manor this time. Wilford was standing out in front, Host knew because he heard the man’s distinct yell of surprise. He also smelled gunsmoke and wine.

“Wilford.”

“Host. What are you doing here?”

“The Host asks what you are doing here?”

“... I asked you first.”

“The Host asked you second.”

“... business. You?”

“... business.”

“Ah… well, cheers.” Quick footsteps get quieter as Wilford runs away. Host stood for a moment, debating whether or not to apologize to Dark. Before he could decide, the door opened.

“Host?” You asked. Host instantly felt himself straighten up and ball his fists.

“Hello.” He said stiffly.

“Another renovation?” He heard the smile in your voice and forced himself not to smile back.

“Host assumes so.” He nodded.

“So…” You sighed.

“So?” He tilted his head.

“Are you coming in?” You asked. Host let himself smile as he walked into the manor.

He didn’t see you all too much for the rest of the week, and he was severely disappointed. There wasn’t really anybody staying there, just a few people visiting over a few days. Yancy, Illinois, and maybe Bing, if the sound of a skateboard at 3 in the morning was any clue. He was pretty much alone. And that was fine. He was usually alone. He was used to it. This was fine.

Maybe he should stop lying to himself so often.

All too soon, he was on his way back. Again. You were the only one to see him off this time.

“Well… um…” You started. The tension between you two was like a punch to the gut. You were perfectly fine before. What happened?

“Host bids you farewell,” He nodded politely and turned around. Maybe if he left quickly, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

“Wait, Host!” You called. He froze. “I’m, uh… I’m coming with you.” He spun around to face you.

“Host… asks what you mean?”

“I wanna… see your office. I mean, if I’m… allowed to visit?” You said meekly. Host felt his heart quicken.

“The Host would love-like that,” He coughed as he corrected himself.

“Ok, good,” He could hear the smug smile in your voice. Damn him and his… feelings.

The commute to his thrice-new office was almost silent. Neither of you said anything. You most likely wanted to wait for the Host to start the conversation, but he didn’t want to bother you if you didn’t want to talk. It was a little awkward. But after a while, it became comfortable. He liked just being in your presence.

He thought that was what he would miss most about the manor.

You both stood outside of his office door when you arrived.

“Well… here we are.” You whispered. Host nodded solemnly. “Do you want to do the honors.” Host lifted his hand to the doorknob, feeling himself shake. He clutched the doorknob, not moving an inch. He could feel your eyes on him. You were worried. This was fine.

You could visit. But what if you didn’t want to? What if you saw his stories? What if you thought he was cruel? He was, but not to you. He would never be to you. He could stop. He could write different stories. He could write a romance! It would still affect people’s lives, but for the better? At least until the story ended and he had no control over it. What if you wanted him to stop? He couldn’t just stop. Would you give him an ultimatum? You wouldn’t… would you?

“Host--” You started. He whipped around to face you.

“The Host does not want to enter the room.” He said, voice wavering a little. He cleared his throat. Embarrassing.

“What? Ho-”

“The Host wants to talk to people. The Host… wants friends. The Host wants to stay with you and the others.” He grits out. God, this was pathetic. Was he begging?

“Host, open the door.” You sighed. The Host froze. What? Why were you… what?

Oh. So that was it. You were seeing him off… for the last time. You didn’t… you… didn’t like…

Right. Yeah. You were a polite person. He should’ve known.

“But…” He trailed off and faced the floor.

“Host, I really think you should open the door,” You said, the smile clear in your voice. His eyebrows furrowed. Well, you didn’t have to be so eager about it, Jesus.

The Host grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open with a crack against the wall.

“Jesus, man!” Bim’s distinct game show voice sounded from inside the room. Left front corner. “What’s got your boxers in a bunch?”

“I always thought he was a boxer-briefs man.” Dr. Iplier said from the opposite side.

“I can confirm that he is, in fact, a boxer-briefs man.” Google said from the same place as Dr. Iplier.

“I honestly would’ve thought commando.” Eric’s voice was muffled, as if he was facing away from everyone else.

What… What the fuck?

“What. The fuck.” He said loudly. You clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Surprise! We’re invading your office. Please don’t resist.” He could, again, hear the smirk on your face. He almost wanted to be mad. Almost.

“What?” He turned to you. You let go of him and stepped in.

“We fixed your room! You got your bland-ass beige walls, your hardwood floor, cobwebs, dust, and I think there’s a rat somewhere in the walls…”

“His name is Remy!” Eric said happily.

“Sorry, Remy is somewhere in the walls.” Host didn’t move, still processing this whole situation.

“The Host… doesn’t understand…” He rubbed his temples.

“Well, you seemed… lonely. And we like spending time with you. So… we’re gonna spend time with you!” Bim explained.

“You don’t have to do things alone anymore. Just… call someone up and we’ll come hang out.” Dr. Iplier said.

“Only if you ask, though.” Eric added softly. Host didn’t move for a long while.

The others began to fidget, thinking they did something wrong. Eventually, he took a breath, and everyone else held theirs.

“Is… is the Host’s equipment still here?” He asked.

“Your writing stuff? Yeah, it’s on the desk.” You answered. Host went quiet again, thinking.

“Do… You guys want to help the Host write something?” He mumbled.

“Hell yeah we do!” You clapped your hands once. Host made his way over to his desk. All the others, including you, crowded around him as soon as he sat down, pushing each other to get a good look.

This was slightly claustrophobic and pretty uncomfortable…

…

It was perfect.

#the host x reader #the host x gn reader #the host x gender neutral reader #x reader #x you #the host markiplier #the host #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #markiplier alter egos x reader #the author markiplier

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nightingaelic · 3 years

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could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Memories, Pt. II

Summary: You were captured by Hydra. What did they do to your memories?

Warnings: mentions of violence, panic attacks

Word Count: 1982

a/n: Ahh, part 2! I hope you like it :)

I know it's only been a day since part I, but this really felt like it took forever to write. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out though. Again, sorry if it's confusing! Hopefully you understand the concept I'm going for.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

4 Years Ago

"Y/N!" Steve called out to you from down the hall, a man with dark hair walking beside him. "I'm glad I caught you. Buck came back from a mission last night, and he's the only one left for you to meet."

You eyes lit up at the mention of Bucky. You'd always admired him for the steps he took to recover from his time at Hydra.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You smiled, trying not to sound too eager. "It's an honor to meet you Sergeant Barnes."

"An honor?" His eyes sparkled with disbelief. "And please, just Bucky."

You nodded at his request before explaining. "An honor, truly. Sorry to be blunt, but you've been through hell and are still out there helping people every chance you get. You're a hero." You whispered that last line conspiratorially, knowing he would get flustered from your brief conversations with Sam Wilson.

"Did Wilson put you up to this?" He questioned, a tell tale flush blooming on his cheeks.

"Just the hero bit." You chuckled when he rolled his eyes. "Everything else came from me." You waited a beat before continuing. "It's true though. You are a hero." You winked before saying goodbye and continuing with your night.

Steve stared at his best friend as he watched you walk away, knowing exactly what that small smile meant. "You like her!" He accused, although lightheartedly.

"Shut up, punk. I just met her." Bucky tried to stop smiling, but your lingering first impression left him feeling giddy.

"Doesn't matter. It's true." Steve easily dodged Bucky's fist. "You don't have to admit it, but I know."

The two men continued down the hall, Steve teasing Bucky when he was still smiling 10 minutes later.

Present

You must've fallen asleep eventually, because next thing you know you are waking up to a room full of people. It takes a minute for you to recognize all of them, but you know the names and reputations well enough to figure it out.

Bucky has his head resting on the edge of your bed, your hand still encased in his. You involuntarily squeeze his hand, as if your muscles have a mind of their own, to gain his attention.

It's comical how quickly his head flies up, gaining the attention of the multitude of superheros in the room.

"You're awake!" Wanda shrieks, beyond relieved to see you home.

"What happened?" Sam adds on, concerned for what you went through.

"Are you okay?" Nat questions as well.

Your eyes flicker between them, unsure how to respond to any of them. Luckily for you, Bucky clears his throat to capture your attention.

"How are you feeling?" Your body instantly relaxes at the softness of his voice, as if remembering things you don't.

It's weird, lying in a room full of people who believe something you know not to be true.

"I, um, physically I feel fine." His eyes on you pull the truth out. "I, um, I'm still kind of confused about what's going on though."

He presses a kiss to your palm, again easing the tension from your body.

"You don't remember anything?" Nat's first to speak up, her typical skepticism peaking through.

"Not about the mission. I mean, I was kept in that room the entire time I was there." Three years flashes in your mind. Why do they think it was only three months? None of this makes sense. "I know all of you though." You're careful not to lie, knowing she would likely spot it.

Their faces relax as they take in your statement, causing a jolt of anxiety and stress to run through you.

Hydra may have convinced you that 38 people died at your hands, but your own personal morals haven't changed. You've accepted "the incident" as they put it was your fault, but that doesn't mean you're a cold blooded killer. They didn't have enough time to change you that much.

Steve, although upset with the lack of information, understands the position you're in. It's easy to see he's still worried about what happened to you while you were "captured".

"Why don't you go up to your room and decompress. The memories could still come back to you."

You can't help but smile at the kindness being shown to you. You give him another small smile while nodding, trying to figure out a way to get someone to take you to "your room" because you have no idea where it is.

"C'mon, I'll help you." Bucky wraps an arm around your waist as you stand, and although it's the first time you've experienced it, it feels completely natural to be in his embrace.

Everyone calls out statements of encouragement and well wishes as the two of you walk out of the med bay. You do your best to not marvel at everything you pass, simply trying to remember the layout of the building.

A few turns later, you've arrived at an elevator where Bucky presses the button for your floor. When the doors open again, he guides you through a hallway to what you presume is your room.

"Thank you, for helping me." You turn to him before stepping into your room.

"I would do anything for you." He whispers back, hand still rubbing your hip. When he leans in to kiss you, you panic.

"Um, I'm going to take a shower. Maybe feeling clean will help with all of this." You vaguely gesture to the air, unsure how to put everything into words.

"Oh, uh, sure. We can talk later?" He hides his confusion at your behavior, understanding how weird it can be to readjust.

You nod before closing the door, leaving him slightly stunned in the hallway. A few steps into your room, and a friendly Irish voice is calling out to you.

"Welcome home, Ms. L/N. Would you like to hear your messages?"

Your heart rate spikes as you rapidly look around the room, trying to spot the intruder.

"Who, who said that?" You continue spinning, trying to spot the voice.

"My name is Friday. I am an AI built into the compound." Your breathing settles as you begin to comprehend the information. Nobody is in your room. You're alone.

"Oh. Okay." You continue taking deep breaths, trying to prevent the panic from settling in now that you're alone.

"Would you like to hear your messages?" The AI asks, again catching you off guard.

"What messages?" You can't deny that you're intrigued by the concept of someone leaving you messages here. "What the hell happened? What is going on?" You mutter to yourself.

"You left for a mission 3 months ago. Communication was cut off 2 days after your departure. All resources were diverted to finding your location and bringing you home." Friday announced, as if it was common knowledge. You would suppose it should be if it was true.

"3 months ago? I was there for 3 years. I've never been here before! Why do they all think I'm an Avenger? None of this makes any sense." Your head is spinning, and all you want is to wash the last 3 years of dirt and grime from your skin.

As you step into the shower, Friday continues to answer your questions, ultimately giving you the version of events that the Avengers all seem to believe.

You joined the team four years ago. Tony and Steve brought you back to the compound after you fought alongside them. Your mutation gives you enhanced senses, allowing you to predict the enemies moves. Despite your lack of true training, the two men were impressed by your skills and dedication.

After getting dressed, you finally bit the bullet and asked to hear the messages. Instantly, Bucky's shaky voice filled your ears.

"Y/N, we lost contact with you yesterday. I just, I needed to feel like I was talking to you." A shaky breath could be heard before he continued. "You promised me you'd come back. I, I can't lose you, doll. Stay strong. We're going to find you."

The next message began immediately. "It's been a week now without you. Steve says we're getting closer, but I know he's just trying to calm me down. I will find you, Y/N. That's my promise."

Tears began pouring down your face as you listened to his voice, sounding battered and broken due to your absence.

"Steve keeps telling me to rest. He says I won't be any help if I'm burnt out. But, I- I can't sleep knowing you're there. Not knowing what they're doing to you. I can't sleep because all I see is you, and it hurts. Doll, it hurts so much. I'm going to find you. I will because I can't lose you. Not like this. Not to them."

The messages continues playing, doing nothing but encouraging your tears.

"Two months. I'm so sorry, doll. It's been two months and we're not any closer. I hope you know we're trying. I'm trying. I won't rest until I have you back in my arms. I love you."

Your breath caught in your throat at those three words, he loves you? How? How can he love you if you didn't even meet until yesterday?

"We figured it out. We've got a location. I'm coming baby. I'm coming."

The last message ended with a beep, but you barely heard it. Your breathing was erratic, your heart rate skyrocketing as the anxiety took over your body.

He couldn't possibly love you. Not when he doesn't know the things you did. The people you killed.

"Enacting protocol 7, paging Mr. Barnes." The AI's voice went unheard by you, muffled by your choked sobs.

Not 30 seconds later, Bucky was rushing into your room.

"Y/N!" He ran to you, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace. He whispered soothing words into your hair, slightly rocking you back and forth.

Somehow, he knew exactly how to calm you down. His warm breath on your neck, strong arms around your body, and the soothing rocking motion all worked wonders for you.

"It's okay. You're okay. You're home now. I've got you. You're safe."

His words brought fresh tears to your eyes, although your breathing calmed and anxiety lessened after a while.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He whispered a few minutes after your body stopped shaking.

"I, I'm just so scared." You didn't know what to say. You wanted to come clean. To explain who you really were, but the fantasy described to you by the AI sounded like a much better life.

A life you wanted to believe in, but felt like you didn't deserve.

"Scared of what, doll? You can talk to me." He whispered, still rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back with his flesh hand.

Of me. You wanted to come clean, but it was terrifying. You couldn't go back to that prison.

"Of... Was I really only there for three months?" Your voice was shaky, confusion laced with fear.

Bucky's guilt at not finding you sooner multiplied tenfold as he took in your expression. You looked so innocent and afraid, his heart broke just thinking about what Hydra did to you.

"Doll, I'm so sorry I couldn't come for you sooner. I know three months must've felt a lot longer... I promise, I'll do everything I can to help you get through this. You're not alone." He held you closer, tucking your head close to his heart in a show of protectiveness.

"Can you just, stay with me tonight?" Your words were barely a whisper, afraid to test the strength of the delusion you found yourself in.

"Of course." His words were firm, but soothing to your ears. "I love you." You squeezed him tighter, resting your body against his as the two of you laid in bed.

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vanillann · 3 years

Text

good girls

a/n: i wanna change my fic layout but idk what to do with it i. ii. iii.

based off “good girls” by 5sos and based off this request

reggie peters x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warning: talk of homophobia (if you are homophobic don’t interact with my page) and swearing

reggie peter masterlist

“I still can’t believe your parents are gone for the weekend!”

Reggie spun on his heels, falling on his back on the fluffy couch of the Mercer house, one he was often never invited into as he didn’t look like a good influence. Bobby picked up his feet, taking a seat as he also took in the nice living room.

“Some Biblical thing, I’m not allowed to go because, well-” Alex trailed off, leaving the living room to the kitchen. Nobody said a word about the recent discovery about Alex’s parents, they weren’t open-minded at all.

“Well don’t worry, Reggie will accidentally break something by the end of the weekend to get back at ‘em,” Luke followed Alex into the kitchen, leaving Bobby to laugh at Reggie’s offended face.

“I don’t break things that often!”

“You broke your locker yesterday,” Bobby pointed out, much to Reggie dismay. He frowned, giving Bobby his puppy eyes but it was no use as Bobby wasn’t even looking in Reggie direction.

“Is that who I think it is?” Bobby leaned on the fluffy pillows and pointed to the figure they all knew. Reggie knew she lived beside Alex, he had seen her get in the car when he used to pick Alex up for school, but now Bobby insists on doing it as he has to drive past all three of their houses anyways.

“What is going on?” Luke slid across the hardwood floor with his white socks, smiling as his eyes followed Bobby’s finger to the figure that sat on the roof.

“That’s (Y/N)!” Luke immediately yelled, almost jumping up and down as they watched her blow some smoke softly from her lips into the cold November air.

“Yeah, she does that often,” Alex shrugged, this time he was the one to join Reggie on the couch.

He seemed to be the only person unbothered by this newest discovery of Ms. Goody-Two-Shoe smoking on the roof with a bored expression on her face. The girl who spoke perfect French and wore an Ivy League sweatshirt with collars underneath.

“Luke, stop!”

It was too late for Bobby to stop Luke as he unlocked one of the window panels, his voice drifting through the neighborhood. Alex and Reggie jumped from the couch, watching as (Y/N) almost slide down the roof once Luke started yelling.

“Whatcha doing (L/N)!”

Her whole demeanor changed, the once bored expression was switched for pure panic as she ducked her head in the window and then slowly slid down the roof. The boys watched her grab the ladder on the side of the house and easily maneuver to make sure not a soul caught her in the act of sneaking out. Reggie had snuck out a million times and he still wasn’t this good.

She jogged the yard between the Mercer and the (L/N) household, holding a long cardigan close to her chest as she jogged to the open bay window. Reggie thought she’d be happy to have some company, although he didn’t smoke he’d be nice company nonetheless, but her face said it all.

She looked prepared to hurt all four of them without a second glance, her eyebrows pushed to the center of her forehead and her lips frowning like she does when she finished a test way earlier than anyone else.

“Wanna lose your head Patterson?”

Luke only chuckled, looking over both his shoulders for some support but was met with nothing but blank stares. Reggie never found someone so imminating before, the way her eyes bored into his soul and her crossed arms like a warrior who killed an army single-handedly and never broke a sweat.

“Mercer, where are your parents?” She nodded to the blond, way calmer while talking to him then when she spoke to Luke seconds ago.

“Church thing.”

The silence was short but deafening as they watched her rock back and front of her heels, pulling the cardigan closer and closer to her chest and Reggie finally felt the cold air run over his already red cheeks, his mouth moving faster than his brain.

“Here,” he dropped it from the window, cringing when it landed on her face and not in her hand like he planned in his head.

“Thanks.”

She wrapped it around her shoulder, not bothered by a stranger giving her a jacket but maybe they weren’t really strangers. They had many classes together, we gym partners during 12 mile runs, and even had the same locker block.

“Look, you didn’t see shit okay?”

“What do you mean?” Luke gave an innocent smile, trying his best to get under her skin but by the way she crossed her arm, that definitely wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m serious, you shut your pretty mouths and don’t say a word,” she pointed to each member, minus Alex as according to the two they already had a silent agreement. He lived up to it, he didn’t ever mention anything to the band once.

“I thought you were a good girl,” Bobby spoke this time, almost raising his hand like he was in class but held back from it.

“Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught,” she rolled her eyes, already slowly backing up from the house with a Reggie jacket held tightly to her chest.

Luke almost spoke again but Alex slapped his hand over his mouth and let the girl go back to her extracurriculars she had been doing earlier. Once she was safely on the ladder, Reggie reached out and closed the bay-widow and turned back to the couch.

“So they girl Reggie’s been in love with since the second grade is secretly bad, they’re practically made for each other!” Bobby spun around the room, laughing when Reggie slammed the pillow into his face and loudly groaned into it.

“Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught,” Luke ran to his bag, pulling out his notebook and scribbling the line. He didn’t stop there, writing faster than any essay he’d ever written, and he writes those seconds before they’re due.

“Are you really writing a song about my pain right now?”

“Reginald, we both know pain makes the best songs! Beside, it’s not even about you, it’s about her,” she grabbed his finger over his shoulder, telling him exactly who he was talking about.

Alex leaned over his shoulder, silently reading the words while drumming patterns on his leg.

“Practice in the garage?”

“I’ll get my bass!”

Reggie leaned on his locker, the other three trying to convince him to walk to her locker a few down with a cassette in Luke’s hand.

“Just ask for your jacket and give her this, she’ll understand once she sees the title,” Luke slammed the cassette into Reggie’s palm, which was sweeter than normal.

“How do you know she listens to cassettes?”

“Her car is from the 70s, she listens to cassette,” Alex pointed out, trying his best to push his friend. The sound of a loud slam bought them from the little trance they fell in. (Y/N) had a leather jacket slung over her arm and was walking directly to the group.

“She’s coming!” Reggie tried to turn around but the boys had built a wall behind him.

“Peters?”

“(Y/N)!”

She stood in front of him, the cardigan replaced with a T- shirt then had a math pun Reggie definitely didn’t understand and some baggy jeans.

“Here’s your jacket,” she held it out, nodding to the vintage material in her hand as she waited for him to take it.

“Don’t worry about it!”

Reggie cringed, knowing he always wore that jacket and he just gave it away like it was nothing.

“I have two already, here,” she grabbed his elbow, extending the arm with the cassette. She spotted the name scribbled across the paper, a frown finding its way onto her lips. She reached for it, letting it switch between her fingers before she looked up with a shy smile on her lips.

“Don’t you think ‘Good girls are bad girls’ is a long title, just make it ‘Good Girls”.”

Reggie smiled, nodding as he finally took the jacket and held it closer to his chest. He could smell soft lilac and something else he couldn’t quite name. The jacket had been with her for a weekend and was already imprinted with the scent, much like Reggie was with the girl.

“I like that!”

She nodded, waved to the other members of the band and easily was lost in the bust crowd of the school. Reggie was speechless, trying to find her in the crowd but she blended in so well.

That’s how she got away with it, because good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.

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sekceesimps · 3 years

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A Rose Made of Chains Ch 4

a/n hey all, thanks for 125 followers! Publishing Ch 5 tomorrow night. Might be a delay for Chapters 6 and 7 because of classes and depression. Hopefully I’ll be able to get that out soon.

This part will lack Kurapika and dive more into reader’s relationship with Chrollo as well as the Phantom Troupe. Hope you all enjoy!

sincerely Coffee

Kurapika x Reader x Chrollo - Soulmate AU

Part 1: Teaser, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

Part 2: teaser, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7

Weeks. It had been weeks of you being left here in the dark damp room. After your initial failed escape plan, the man who came and hurt you everyday, whom you later learned was named Feitan, had begun to bring you a small piece of the morning newspaper. It was your only source of entertainment as well as knowledge about the outside world. Nothing significant ever happened, you just looked at the date and tried to distract your mind with the light read.

It was getting colder too. You could feel the chill of the outside in your room. There was always a bite in the air that you felt in your bones whenever the door opened and Feitan came in. The nice man named Chrollo had offered you a real blanket once. You had shrugged him off, trying to hold onto your last shreds of free will. Your sensible side always got angry and screamed at you to accept the heat.

Chrollo came almost everyday and repeated his offer to you. Everytime you would say no, but he would still stay. He was the only form of comfort in the cold darkness so naturally you clung onto it, quite literally sometimes.

Some days he would stay silently by the door and read. This could be silently or out loud to you, it would vary. He always came in with a different book, always mentioning the importance of reading whenever you asked about it. Other days he would ask you about your life and in turn he would answer perhaps one question that you asked about his favorite things. You deduced that he was probably incredibly disinterested in topics regarding himself. You didn’t mind, he had a smooth voice and you had missed having conversations. Once he had even brought you a set of chess for the two of you to play. You could tell that he enjoyed spending some time with you.

There was another time when you had visibly shivered due to the cold right in front of him. He let out a little grin and hugged you, simply saying that his warm body could easily give you more heat than your clothes. You had clung onto him for what felt like hours all while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

It was one day you were feeling resistant when you asked about his past that he had seemed incredibly off-put. You made the stupid mistake of pressing further and asking about what would happen to you if you kept saying no to his offers. It fueled you to edge him on even if you knew it could lead to your demise. His eyes had held a dull fire as he left and slammed the door shut behind him. Perhaps your taunting had been a little too much.

He didn’t come back for a week. When he was gone Feitan also stopped bringing the med kit. This made your wounds more aggravated and the torture much more painful. It was slowly breaking down your body and will. The food given to you also was much less nutritious. It was clear that these people, if you could even call them that, no longer cared for your well being. So they’ve decided that they no longer need me, huh, I really am going to die here.

Surprisingly you were okay with this. The pain was numbing and prevented you from really thinking about anything else. When your injuries had been lighter, you still had the ability to think of rescue and your friends. Now even the thought of your soulmate sent lightning hot flashes of pain through your body. Looking at your soulmark made you want to throw up, since you would have to see the mark of the 12-legged spider right next to it. You sigh and curl up onto the icy floor. Your clothes were damp and bloody, making the chill in your bones even greater. At least when Chrollo came he would allow you to get a new shirt if it had gotten too bloody. You wouldn’t even get to die with your dignity now.

He had come in rather uneventfully. Quietly closing the door behind him. He came to your room and opened his book. Silent, more silent than usually. It confirmed your suspicion that they were finally going to get rid of you once and for all.

“Yes,” you voice out weakly. You refused to say more. Your will had given out, but you knew in your soul that if you stayed here any longer then you would die, either from the neglect or from your wounds and the sickness you knew was growing within them. This man could make the excruciating pain go away and all you wanted to do was hope that he would keep his word. Hope was something you had gone dry of.

He turns back, raven locks slightly obscuring his gleaming eyes. He had the faintest smile on his face, “I’m glad.” He walked towards you slowly, as if you were a wounded animal, which in all honesty you probably looked like right now. He leaned down at your level and gave you a hug. His warmth and smell invade every part of your body. You didn’t mind because now you might survive, “Let me take you to your new room,” his smile grew larger and now more sincere as took your hand, hoisting you up.

You tried to move, but your legs didn’t seem to listen to your brain and you promptly fell down. You scrunch your eyes close and expect your face to get smashed onto the ground, a final embarrassment. Surprisingly, Chrollo had caught you. You suppose that he decided that you wouldn’t be able to walk on your own so he carried you bridal style. How his lean frame managed to support your entire body weight surprised you. His mellow scent slowly eased you to sleep in his arms. This would be the first night's sleep in a while where you felt genuinely secure.

»»————-　　————-««

Waking up in this new room was bliss. You don’t remember being in as much ease and comfort before. The bed was empty but a window allowed for a single ray of light to come in. You hadn’t been around true sunlight in so long. Your mind briefly wandered to where you could possibly be but that thought was pushed away with a loud growl of your stomach. Oh right, you think, I need to eat something. You got up slowly from the bed and started walking towards the door. You turned the knob slowly, expecting to get electrocuted or something.

You opened it and padded slowly down the hall hoping to run into Chrollo or at least get to a kitchen-like area on your own. He had probably changed you in your sleep as you were now wearing real clothes in the form of sweatpants and a huge shirt. It was a huge step up from your tattering bloody rags. You kept trudging on and eventually found yourself in what looked to be a common room area. The hallways so far seemed to indicate that this place was an old hotel or maybe a dorm room. You weren’t too sure, honestly you didn’t even know if you were still in York New City.

The air here smelled damp and sour, like people who sweat and had just exercised lay down on the couches and let their stink stay permanently. I hope I don’t smell like that you thought briefly before you made a left and found yourself in a kitchen.

Maybe I should have waited for Chrollo, you scolded yourself as you look through the pantry for something good to eat. You had been starved for weeks after all. As you finally reach for a bag of pop tarts on the shelves you hear someone walk in. You quickly grab it and attempt to make yourself as small and non threatening as possible. You take in the appearance of the people who had come into the kitchen, a familiar pink haired woman as well as a short haired blonde woman who had an interesting form of clothing. The pink haired one only chuckled at your meek demeanor and gave you a hand with the food.

“Paku, this is Y/N, our newest and most gorgeous recruit” she announced lightly and moved to heat up your pop tarts.

“Pleasure to meet you,” her calming voice was directed at you. You smiled loopily at the blonde, she was hot you think to yourself.

“All done! Time to go to the meeting,” she called out to you and handed you a plate of your steaming breakfast. Lightly patting your head, trying not to startle you too much. They’re both so hot, you continue thinking. Their stares make you feel overwhelmed, you don’t remember ever being around such beautiful people.

“Meeting?” you ask weakly as you take a bite. The sugary flavor explodes in your mouth making you let out a soft moan from the happiness of it.

She and Paku share a smile before saying, “The leader called a few of us to a meeting, just some basic introductions is all.” you only nod and continue eating. When you finish you hurriedly clean your space and let Paku and the pink haired woman named Machi lead you expertly through the halls of this new home.

You come across a large empty space with some rubble and chairs where Paku lets you sit in between her and Machi. They had made pleasant small talk with you through the walk and gave you a vague idea of the layout of the area. You were definitely going to get lost but they had put you in so much ease that you felt safe with them leading the way. You had been the first to arrive and sat together in a peaceful atmosphere.

As time goes by, some people start trickling into the meeting space. You take note of a person wrapped up in bandages as well as a girl with glasses in a cute black turtleneck. A very large man with strange looking ears had come in last. They had greeted your companions and had largely ignored you before sitting down. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that your savior had come in looking quite different. He seemed quieter and more serious, but his entire look had changed. His normally loose raven locks were now slicked back on his head. He seemed less human this way, but if he was really the boss then it didn’t surprise you too much that he looked the way he did. His entire aura simply radiated authority, but in a subtle way. You had noticed how everyone in the room had perked up and stood at attention when he had come in. Even the aloof looking girl in glasses was paying attention.

“Good morning,” he remarked in that familiar smooth voice. You crooned on the inside just hearing it. “As you all know we have our newest potential member here to perhaps take spot number 11,” he stopped briefly as everyone in the room nodded their heads slightly, “and to make sure that she is fit to take that place, I want her to go on her very first mission as a sort of recruitment exercise. It will be a perfect way to test her skills and get her comfortable with the rest of us,” he didn’t look at you but at this point everyone in the room was beginning to glance your way, trying to see what kind of reaction those words would elicit. You remained unmoved by his words, trying to keep a stoic demeanor. “It’s going to be a difficult mission that will only require one other member. Their job is to just assist, but not lead, I want Y/N to do that,” he finished as he looked at you for the first time since he came in the room. His eyes held pride, you knew that he believed you would pass this test. Your lips curved into the smallest and softest of smiles. He continued, “I don’t plan on assigning anybody, so whoever wants to go can just volunteer.”

Machi raised her hand swiftly. She smiled at you and announced, “I’ll go with Y/N,”

Chrollo nodded at her and replied, “Very well, everyone else may leave and go about their business for the day. Machi and Y/N, stay so I can tell you what I want from you two.” With that the rest of the group made their way out of the room. Paku waved at you before also turning and leaving.

“There’s going to be a museum showing some of the rarest objects in the hunter world. It’s nothing like the auction as these items are more private and are owned by famous pro-hunters. In turn the museum only allows pro-hunters in. I desire one of the rarest nen blades that’s currently being shown off for about 5 billion Jenny. I have the utmost faith in the two of you,” he grinned and left. Your stomach filled with dread, having no idea how you were supposed to complete this task. Machi grins at you too and pats your shoulder.

“Good Luck, Y/N!” she laughs, “I’ll meet you back in your room in about an hour to discuss plans on entering tonight. I really like you so I hope for your sake that you can get the blade.” she leaves you to your worried deliberations. So this was the life of a thief huh?

a/n sorry it took so long to get this out, we reached 100 followers much faster than anticipated. Thank you all so much for that we love every single one of you! However, we have gotten some rude comments regarding how long it has taken to publish this series. We assure you that we are trying our best to get this out to you (we're glad you're liking it •u•) but leaving rude comments was unnecessary. Again thank you so much for the support <3!

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jasthelazyelf · 3 years

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All the Obey me! boys discovering MC has kosmemophobia

Turns out I really have to write overly specific scenarios myself, so here I am. This was my first time writing headcanons, it’s more difficult than it looks like, but I managed! It also turned out way longer than I thought it’d be.

Kosmemophobia: a “fear” of jewelry. People with kosmemophobia will either not wear any jewelry at all, or may be comfortable with wearing non-metallic jewelry. Touching or being touched by jewelry makes these people feel somehow dirty (even though we know majority of jewelry is sanitized), uncomfortable, and will make people want to wash that part of their body it touched. People (dare I say mostly afab) usually notice it early on in their childhood. It is not known what makes people kosmemophobic atm, considering people have it since early childhood.

If you have further questions about it, feel welcome to ask. :)

Total word count: 4800-ish

Gender of MC is not mentioned

Slight season 2 spoiler alert in Simeon’s part

Warning for verbally abusive parents in Belphie’s part

You have been warned.

Lucifer

He wanted to make the shopping trip enjoyable for the both of you, but especially for you

He just wanted to take you on a date somewhere where his brothers wouldn’t constantly interfere, even if it was only for a few hours

You two were just window shopping at the mall when Lucifer decided to take you into one of the stores

It was a store with magical items, from stones to a number of different trinkets, including jewelry

Somehow this was the part he was most interested in in the whole shop

Watching him look over it, especially necklaces made you feel uncomfortable and you had a feeling you knew where this was going

With what little hope you had, you subtly tried to nudge him away, but he wouldn’t budge

He finally took one of the necklaces out of the display and turned towards you

"What do you think? Wouldn’t it suit you?“

en he saw your eyes widen and you taking a step back, a shiver running down your spine, he was taken aback. Did he do something?

"Is something wrong? You don’t like it? It’s fine to just say so.“

Oh well, you would have to tell him one day, right?

"N-no, that’s not exactly it, it’s just that just the thought of wearing jewelry or even touching it is making me uncomfortable. I know it’s weird, but please don’t make me do this…“

Well this he did not expect at all. He put the necklace back and putting one hand around you, he turned you around and moved to a part of the shop with crystals and rocks of all different colours instead

"I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Let’s look over something else.“

You smiled at him and nodded. You had him curious about this fear of yours, he might have asked later on to give you more details on it.

Whether you are comfortable with sharing information about this with him or not, he respects your fear and does his best not to make you uncomfortable in the future

Mammon

- Chaotic snuggle boy was all about protecting you and also hugging you, especially when in private where none of his brothers could see

- It dawned on him pretty quickly that something about you was strange when you sometimes flinched every time he touched your skin

- It wasn’t every time, and he just couldn’t understand the pattern

- One day he had had enough, he just couldn’t wrap his head around it, it was driving him absolutely crazy

- He finally mustered enough courage to ask you

- "Oi, human, what is it with ya flinchin‘ when I touch ya?“

- Damn… he noticed after all. You were trying to hide your phobia as much as you could, but you couldn’t help yourself. Well, better come up with the truth now

- "Hah, w-well it’s not you, I swear. It’s gonna sound weird, but it’s your rings. The feel of them on my skin feels… uncomfortable.“

- You tried to explain the feeling as best as you could, mostly how touching jewelry just makes you… want to wash your hands and the feeling appears also on other parts on your body

- First he blinked in surprise, but listened to your explanation

- Suddenly it all made sense. He only wore his rings on his right hand. You only flinched when he touched your skin with his right hand. How could he not notice this detail sooner?

- Well, now he knows. He asks you if you’d rather he didn’t wear them near you.

- If you say you’re going to hopefully get used to it over time, he will keep wearing them, but sometimes takes them off on his own

- If you state that you’d rather not have to touch them, he will keep in mind to take them off before going for snuggles

- Doesn’t really think much about it afterwards, he just takes it as a fact

Leviathan

- Your birthday was getting closer and Leviathan wanted to get you a gift, but didn’t have many ideas

- So he decided to invite you over to his room to watch some anime and play games, so that he could subtly take the conversation where he wanted and get an idea of what you might be interested in

- When watching anime, he saw that you really liked the main character

- Well what a coincidence! He totally imagined you cosplaying the main character and him cosplaying the character’s best friend. Duo cosplays are always the best!

- "Oh! I once saw a set of their pendants and bracelets as a set on Akuzon! Wouldn’t it be a nice beginning of another cosplay?“

- Your face completely changed its expression and you tensed when he mentioned it

- This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed. Was he wrong all along? Did he assume wrongly that you liked the character? Do you actually not like the character at all?

- Panic intensifies

- "Oh no, I am sorry, if you don’t like the character, maybe we can cosplay another duo? Forget I said anything about it-“

- "Levi… calm down, it’s not that I don’t like the character. It’s just the jewelry I am uncomfortable with.“

- Oh

- OH

- Just like- nevermind, even though he probably watched the majority of anime in existence, he couldn’t remember a character who’s trait this would be

- You tell him it’s okay, it’s a very rare phobia and not even that known

- May ask a few questions about it and if there is a loophole for it

- Either way, the idea of getting you jewelry gets thrown out of the window

- For you birthday, he gets you and him matching hoodies

- They‘re so soft

Satan

- That day, Satan invited you on a date to his favourite bookstore

- You were totally up for it, who knows, maybe you’d find something really interesting

- Or something that is SO stupid that you just wouldn’t be able to not get it (Yes, I have one such book, I love/hate it so much)

- He decided to také you to a bookstore you haven’t been to yet. Yay, more adventure! New store layout! So many possibilities!

- You were browsing through bookshelves, Satan sometimes told about a few books he has in his own room that this bookstore also had

- Suddenly he spotted someone and got rather excited

- It turns out it was one of his aquintances and he wanted to introduce them to you. It was an elegant demon, by the looks of it quite rich

- You were soon told they were one of the best selling authors of the Devildom, with a rather original, but easy to read writing style, which was probably how they got so famous

- They wanted to shake your hand as a sign of politeness

- When you saw the massive rings and bracelets on their hand, you gulped and widened your eyes

- You didn’t want to be impolite, though, so you decided to shake their hand anyway

- You couldn’t get the feeling of metal out of your hand and you wanted to go to the restroom to wash your hands real quick

- Satan noticed you were getting tense as you tried to subtly rub your hand with your other hand and ended the conversation smoothly and took you aside

- "Is there something wrong? Did they hurt you? You can ask for an apology if they did.“

- You had to smile at this assumption. It warmed your heart to know Satan cared about you

- "No, it’s just… have you seen all that jewelry? I am not saying they shouldn’t wear it, it’s their choice, but for me that was a living nightmare.“

- Well he was glad they didn’t hurt you in any way. He was a bit surprised by your explanation and truth be told, he got very curious

- After you quickly wash your your hands in the nearby restroom, he wants to know more about your phobia.

- How long do you have it? How much does it affect your life? How did you find the right term? Do you personally know other people with this condition?

- And so many more. Feel free to tell him there have already been too many questions answered and that you could continue another day in this interview. He’s already thrilled.

Asmodeus

- You both planned the perfect spa day together

- After all, who’d know more how to make you completely relaxed, if not Asmo?

- You end up having lots of fun and you feel SO GOOD and relaxed after you’re all done

- You hair has never been so very well taken care of, no matter you lenght or type, he probably gives you some useful advice you’ve never heard of yourself, bt it seems to be working, so why not?

- And your skin is finally properly moisturized

- All right, what now? Asmo doesn’t want this moment to end yet, he loves hanging out with you and you still had time

- You end up visiting Majolish and trying on different clothes, even if it’s just for fun. Asmo loves picking out clothes for you and he really does have a good eye for what would suit you

- You ended up putting on your 20th outfit. Asmo looked at you and thought for a bit. Something was missing.

- Yes, sure, the outfit was nice and all, but it was missing something… but what?

- He suddenly got an idea. He ran off for a bit and soon returned with something in his hands

- When he got cloce to you again, you realized it was a set of small thin elegant bracelet and a metallic necklace to go with it

- Your blood froze and you started to back away slowly, putting your arms up in defense and shaking your head

- "What’s wrong? Do you think it’s too much? Maybe even too little?“

- Before he could run off again for something different that could be to your taste, you quickly stopped him before he could do so

- "No, wait, the jewelry… is pretty and you’re right it would go well with this outfit. But I am not willing to wear any jewelry. At all. It’s a very rare phobia and I can’t do much with it.“

- You were surprised this hasn’t come up sooner, but oh well, it happened now

- Asmo looked a bit disappointed at first, but upon hearing it’s a phobia, his expression softened and he gave you a little smile

- "O-oh! All right, back this goes, then! The outfit looks good even without it, I just thought it would be a nice touch, that’s all!“

- You smiled and nodded in acknowledgment

- He would definitely question you later if it bothered you on others as well and how much. He’ll make a note to himself to wear as little jewelry as possible when spending time with you, depending what you’re comfortable with

Beelzebub

- You were just meeting everyone in the human world for the first time

- You were so excited, you had no idea you would ring the bell and Asmo would open the door

- Everyone started greeting their favourite human like they haven’t seen you in years, when it’s probably been just a few weeks at most

- These babies

- Beel wasn’t home at the time, so you decided to surprise him and wanted to make his favourite human world food

- Luckily, they already had enough ingrediants in the kitchen, so you didn’t have to go shopping as the first thing you’d do

- Just as you finished, Beel came home. He got very excited to see you again

- He took off his jacket and- oh no

- He wanted to hug you, as was his habit even when in the Devildom, but upon seeing that heavy necklace, you had to move up your hands in defence

- He got confused. Did he sweat too much and stinks now? Did you not like him anymore for whatever reason?

- The biggest baby made confused puppy eyes, he just wanted to greet you

- „Ah, I am sorry, could you please take the necklace off? Jewelry and especially jewelry like that makes me uncomfortable when I touch it.“

- He sighed in relief. You didn’t hate him after all.

- He quickly ran off, presumably to his room and came back in a minute, now without the chain necklace

- You smiled happily and opened your arms, an invitation for him to hug and greet you

- And he sure did!

- He was just happy he could hug you again without you feeling uneasy about the situation

- Doesn’t really ask anything else, just in case you’re not okay with talking about it, but he keeps that fact in mind and is now rarely seen with the chain on

Belphegor

- You were once more taking a nap together. It became a pleasurable habit of yours to join Belphie. After all, you didn’t have to do anything and got some sweet sweet cuddles. What could be better?

- Well, you finally managed to fall asleep

- And Belphie got curious about your dreams, so he decided to visit your dream for once.

- He was really there just to observe, he didn’t want to interfere with anything

- He wondered what you’d dream about

- Was it something really sweet? Would you go on an adventure to find the root of youth? Would you be enjoying a swim in a pool? Maybe you’d meet your friends from the human world

- The posibilities were endless

- What he didn’t count with, though, was the possibility of you having a nightmare

- You seemed to be having a fight with two older humans. Maybe they were your parents?

- You tried to persuade them not to make you wear the massive necklace the woman was holding

- They had absolutely none of it

- "Please, just don’t make me wear it. It’s not like it’s mandatory, nothing will really happen if I don’t put it on!“

- „Nonsense! You need to! We chose this for you before you were even born, how dare you not want to wear it!“

- "This youth, I swear, what is it that you want?! That it’s not made of silver?! OF GOLD?! Huh? Is that it? Are you really that spoiled?!“

- "You don’t understand, I wouldn’t wear it even if it was made of the rarest metal ever! Why is it so difficult to understand it!“

- Belphie was taken aback. He had no idea you were dealing with a struggle like that. When he thought about it, he realized you never wore any jewelry to anything, you always kept it simple with fabric patterns

- He wondered if this dream was inspired by real life events

- Why couldn’t some humans understand the boundaries of others was a hard thing for him to grasp

- He decided to leave the dream and wake up for a bit. He felt you shivering and when he raised his head, he saw a pair of tears running down your cheeks

- He hugged you tighter and fell asleep again, joining you in your dream

- You were now alone, angry and upset at your parents

- He came up to you and started to calm you down. You appreciated it. He couldn’t deny his curiousity and asked about the situation

- Truns out talking about it helped you calm down more than anything and he spent the rest of the dream with you

Diavolo

- Diavolo invited you over to hang out

- He normally doesn’t have much time off, but since he took a liking to you, he managed to persuade Barbatos to give him more free time to be with you

- Or he just straight up slacks from his work, he doesn’t really care

- After sitting in the garden for a while and just catching up with each other, you suggested making anouther castle tour

- Seriously, the castle is huge, you couldn’t fully enjoy it in a day or two, it took a while

- He hapilly obliged, he knew the whole castle like the back of his hand

- And there were so many stories connected to different parts of the castle

- You loved listening to these stories, it was almost like a proffesional castle tour

- Private, and for free and told by the actual owner

- By now you at least vaguely remembered some of the more important royals except for Dia, Barbatos and the brothers. Maybe not in detail, but you can at least say you’ve already heard the name before

- Today he decided to show you the treasury. You were curious what you’d see and if it also held some interesting stories to be told

- Once the guards let you inside, you found yourself in a huge room with display boxes. Some of them were open

- Inside the boxes was… jewelry. All different kinds, sizes and colours. You started to look over them

- You admired the pieces for the fine craftmanship, you really did. Some of them were beautiful and breathtaking

- Dia saw your awe and wanted you to experience as much as you can

- "If you want, you can try some of them on, it’s okay.“ He beamed happily

- You had to laugh a little. You got a bit nervous, but decided to calmly deny his proposition

- "Don’t get me wrong, there are some beautiful pieces. The composition of some looks really nice! Some look so mild, yet they still say royalty. It’s almost as if it were engraved on them. But I am happy to just admire from aback, wearing jewelry makes my skin crawl. It’s something I’ve been dealing with my whole life.“

- He nods

- "That’s perfectly fine, too. I wouldn’t want to make you upset.“

- He wonders if it is perhaps a common human thing and when you explain it’s extremely rare, he gets excited because he gets to experience something through you that is not common.

- The rarity of this phobia makes him curious, so he may have some questions, but not as many as Satan

Barbatos

- OH HE FINALLY GOT A DAY OFF

- He needed it. He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but he got slightly clumsier that day, which didn’t go without Diavolo noticing

- He protested at first, but had to accept his fate anyway, because Diavolo insisted he take the day off

- You wanted to spend the day in the mall and visit different shops to observe the differences between the Devildom and the Human world

- You were supposed to write an essay about differences between these two worlds for the Human studies 101 subject

- Why you had to take THAT class was completely unknown to you, but you attended anyway. I mean come on, those were some easy grades for you, since you were brought up there

- And so Barbatos joined you on your adventure through the mall

- Although there were some differences, most of the shops were similar to what you knew

- Restaurants, cafés, boutiques, wine bars, adult toys stores, book stores, you name it

- What you didn’t have in the human world was obviously magic tool stores, potion stores and potion igredients stores

- Barbatos seemed to really enjoy talking about some of the peculiar potions that caught your eye, be it for their vibrant colours or the fact that some seemes to have sparkles in them

- At last, you managed to come by goldsmith’s. When you saw this shop, you acted like you didn’t and went on your way to a tea house Barbatos suggested visiting after your tour

- This surprised barbatos, since you spent some time at least writing the name of the shop down to make a note of it, but you weren’t even acknowledging the existence of this one store in particular

- Once you both got yor tea in the tea house, he couldn’t help but ask why you just did that

- "Oh, me and jewelry are old enemies. I don’t like wearing or even touching it, I just always want to wash my hands afterwards. I guess it’s sort of like your relationship with rats.“

- When you mentioned rats, a shiver ran down his spine and immediately understood what you meant. He just took it as a part of you, the person he adored so much and didn’t qestion it any longer

- He just suggested if you ever needed to vent, he’d be there for you

Solomon

- You two made plans to bond together in his room in Purgatory Hall after school to let off some steam and vent to each other like human to human

- This became a semi weekly tradition for you two, you both enjoyed it and you were glad you could relate to another human being

- You were also staying for dinner that day, luckily for everyone, it was Simeon’s turn to cook

- Don’t think he didn’t try to swap with him just so he could "impress“ you, though, he totally did

- You were glad Simeon didn’t budge

- After eating your meal, you both just flopped onto the couch and just decided to relax a bit

- In silence

- He enjoyed these silent moments, the joy of doing nothing together

- You two soon drifted off to sleep on the couch, so when Simeon was about to tell you it was time to get you back to the House of Lamentation, and found you two asleep next to each other like that, he let Lucifer know you’d be staying the night with them

- When you woke up and checked your D.D.D. you almost jumped out of your skin, but then saw the message from Lucifer knowing about your situation through Simeon

- You decided to scroll through social media, while Solomon was still sleeping

- He soon woke up when he heard you looking through memes and trying not to laugh. You were failing miserably, though

- Oh well, what’s done is done, now he is watching you scroll and when you find something funny, you both laugh, but not too loud, to not wake up Luke. It was around 11PM after all

- Whenever you scrolled past an ad that was advertising jewelry, Solomon noticed you were furrowing your brows every time you found one

- What’s more, you even hid the ads, hoping you wouldn’t get another one, but they just kept coming

- You groaned

- "Do they really bother you that much?“ Solomon asked sleepily

- "I normally don’t bat an eye when I see an ad, but I do not and have never worn any jewelry, since I have kosmemophobia and touching or wearing it makes me uncomfortable. But even if I keep hiding these, they just keep popping up like they want to change my mind about it. I would much rather have ads for overprized pencil sharpeners.“

- Well that was something he didn’t know about you. And he couldn’t even say he knew people that had the same problem as you, since he either didn’t notice it or he really just never met anyone like that

- He asked a few questions about it, since he didn’t know anything about this phobia, and was glad he could learn something new. Even better that it was about you

Simeon

- You decided to have picnic in a park

- Not the most private setting but it’d do

- You were just chatting about your lives, you mostly telling stories from the House of Lamentation, him mostly talking about his ideas for a new story

- You were his huge inspiration and sometimes he straight up wrote down one of your stories. He assured you he would mention you as a co-author if he ever decided to publish those

- It was getting rather late, so you packed up, carefully put all the plates and bowls back into the big basket and folded the blanket you’ve been sitting on the whole day

- When heading back to the Purgatory Hall, he mostly talked about Luke’s different pastries. Just the description made you hyped up and you wondered if he was making something at that moment

- You know he did. When you got back, your nose was hit with the lovely smell of cinnamon and apples and you couldn’t wait to try whatever he made

- You had to put the things on their places first, though

- Simeon asked you to put the basket to its place and you agreed. What you forgot though, was that its place was in a cupboard… too high for you to reach

- Lucky for you, you knew a few spells and levitation was one of the first ones you purposely learned

- Once Simeon saw you looking at the cupboard, he wanted to suggest you to take the folding stairs to help you, but you declined

- "I want to do this alone, I know I can do it.“

- He smiled and nodded, he knew he couldn’t change your mind

- First you managed to open the doors and then you carefully levitated the basket to its place. While you were directing it where to go, your mind momentarily lost its concentration at the basket as you stared intensely at the Ring of Light on you hand

- The name described it perfectly. It was literally a small band made out of pure light hugging one of your fingers. It was othwerwise incorporeal and only visibly showed when you used your magic

- It took you a second to regain your concentration and you finally put it to its place

- However, Simeon definitely noticed your momentary loss of composure there

- "What made your mind wander off so suddenly?“ he asked, genuinly curious

- "Oh it’s just… I am still not used to seeing the ring on my finger. It’s so weird, it doesn’t feel like anything, it just shines and what’s most surprising, I don’t feel like washing my hands constantly. It’s what would happen with normal jewelry. I am just not used to it, it’ll probably take some time.“

- Huh! Okay then! He was just glad it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle

- In all his long life he never met anyone who would openly speak about being disturbed by jewelry, so this was new experience to him

- Will have questions, but reassures you you don’t have to answer any questions that might make you too uncomfortable

Luke

- You two were assigned to find some rare herb that was supposed to be growing in the field

- Fortunately it wasn’t far from Purgatory Hall so even if you somehow got lost, there was a high chance of actually finding your way back

- While you were at it, you took it as the perfect time to bond with the young angel

- So while you were searching, you both started weaving flower crowns

- It was a fun activity and you even got to tell each other stories

- You were reminiscing about the time you learned how to weave flower crowns and Luke was telling you things about the Celestial Realm and Michael

- Once you were both finished, you put on each other’s flower crown and continued looking for the herb

- Somehow it didn’t take too long for the two of you to find it

- When you were picking it up, you flower crown fell from your head, but you managed to catch it… and not break it

- Luke almost shrieked, but sighed in relief that nothing happened to it

- "I have an idea, what if I transform these to not wilt! You know, like real crowns!“

- With the mention of that, you just had to ask this question

- "What would they then be out of, though? Metal? Plastic?“

- He didn’t understand the intention of your question, so he straight up asked what you meant by that question

- "Ah, excuse me, I’ll explain. I am kosmemophobic and especially metal jewelry makes me uncomfortable. I they were ot of plastic, though, I wouldn’t mind.“

- Oh, well that explains it. He reassured you they would feel like out of resin, so you didn’t have to worry at all

- Now you both have matching flower crowns and you can always remember Luke when you look at it

#obey me #obey me!#shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #kosmemophobia

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soldrawss · 4 years

Note

I’m literally begging. I need more of your human aus. They’re so wholesome!!!!

I am always up for more BBM AU so! Here’s a mini-story I wrote when Zach asked if Raph has any underlying ptsd or fears about being alone!

Raph was fine till he was about 7. He doesn't remember his mom, and he barely remembers dad, and Mikey would sooner have a heart attack than leave Raph ALONE alone, so Raph didn't really grow up with the fear of being alone cause he's never really experienced it. He’s always had Mikey. He’s always had Leo and Donnie. It’s never occurred to him that that could ever change. That he could ever not have his big brothers there by his side. But it's during one, late-night when everything kinda just lets loose to the idea that Raph COULD be separated from the rest of them, and really it all goes downhill from there. It's the night Leo came home with a black eye and bruised jaw. Leo said he just got into an accident, to not ‘worry about it, bud. I’m gucci’, and since Donnie didn't say anything about it and Mikey got to stay home for the night to be with them, Raph didn’t worry about it. Cause if his brothers said it was all OK, then it was, because it always had been before, and Raph figured it always would be like that, cause big brothers just had that power to make everything better. They’d never lied to Raph before. This was no different. But then he wakes up that night because he has to go to the bathroom, and he slides himself out from under Mikey's arm. (they had fallen asleep on the couch to a Lou Jitsu marathon, which was rare, cause they never watched dad’s old movies cause it made Mikey sad sometimes to remember dad. But he was in a reminiscent mood, so they threw a couple on and wow, Raph was kinda star-eyed and soft gasps, cause dad was kinda AWESOME) And Mikeys snoring gently, so tired his body is like a dead weight on top of Raph, and Raph's arm is a little numb from where Mikey was drooling on it. And as he's walking through the dark hallway, knowing the layout by heart so he didn’t bother risking turning on the lights in case he woke up Mikey, he tiptoes on sock-clad feet, until he notices a light coming from Dee and Leo’s room. And there are soft voices coming from the barely cracked door, and Raph is super never one to snoop, but theirs a curiosity bubbling in him and he can't help but detour from the bathroom ever so slightly, because he DOES have to go to the bathroom, but a few seconds of listening in won't kill him, and his big brothers NEVER let him in on their secret conversations. So Raph leans in, his ear pressed as close to the crack as he dared- "It was stupid, that's what! Do you know how much trouble you could have been in? You could have been expelled, Leo! It could have gone on your permanent record!" And oh... that was Donnie's voice... and he sounded... well, he sounded mad... but more than that... he sounded... scared. "Well, it didn't. And you worry too much. Nothing was gonna happen. It wasn't like I got into a fight with the principal’s kid! They didn't do more than a slap on the wrist and a few weeks detention." And Leo.... Leo got into a fight? Raph didn't know that. Why didn't they tell Raph that? Why did they... lie to Raph?

Raph pressed himself closer to the door. The bathroom long-forgotten behind him.

"And that's the thing! YOU don't worry at all! God, you're so self-absorbed! Do you really not get how bad this could have been?" "Look, I said I was sorry about getting involved, but I'm not sorry for slugging Tatsu in the nose. They BROKE your glasses Dee, you can't expect me to NOT to get mad about that." "This isn't about that stupid fight with some bullies, Leo-" "Then what is it about Donnie?! Because you've been riding my backside about it all night, but haven't said a word why! Why are you still so mad at me about this?" "I'm not MAD at you, I'm-" "You’re what then? Is this about what they said? About Mikey and me? You’re mad because I stepped in and threw a punch before you could? You’re mad because I made you the victum here? Look, I know that you hate it when I meddle in your business and try to fight your fights for you but I’m-” "I’M SCARED YOU COULD HAVE BEEN TAKEN AWAY, YOU ASS HOLE!" And Leo seemed to be just as surprised as Raph felt. They had been talking in pretty quiet voices up until Donnie practically screamed that last part, and it sent an electric shock through Raph's whole system. And Raph couldn't see their facial expressions, he didn't dare move an inch closer to the door to peek inside, but he could tell from the hitch in Donnie's voice. Donnie was crying now. "You could have been.... You could STILL be.." Donnie sniffed, and Raph felt his own eyes sting in proxy. "Tatsu's dad didn't this time, but he could have very well made an issue out of this. He could have brought this to the attention of the school board. And then the school board would have had to call Draxum, or worse, Bishop, and you KNOW child services don't need a reason to separate us! Bishop will take one look at your black eye and blame everything on Mikey and then they'll take us AWAY Leo! Don't you get that?" And that... what did that mean? What was Donnie talking about? Take us away? Take us away where? Who was Bishop? What was child services? Raph's mind was spinning, like car wheels on ice with no traction to go anywhere. His feet felt planted to the floor, sunk right there into the carpet. "Wait.. wait what?... Bishop? He's still a thing? I thought he got switched out for that other agent?” "Just because he doesn’t do house visits anymore doesn’t mean he still isn’t our case holder. He can still ruin our lives just as easily from his cubicle," And Donnie didn't sound like he was crying anymore, but there was still a raw roughness to his voice that Raph was whole years not accustomed too. "Raph's a baby. Heck, WE'RE still considered babies in the eyes of the law. It won't take a whole lot for them to take even the slightest infraction to deem Mikey unqualified. And then what would happen? We could probably manage to stay together cause people are kinder on not separating twins, but what about Raph? They'll take Raph for sure and ship him off to the other side of the country and there'd be nothing we could do to stop it and-" And Raph stopped listening after that. because... Because... What? Raph could be sent away? There are people out there that could take Raph away from Leo and Donnie? Away from Mikey? And that easily? And why? Because Mikey wasn't good enough? That... That didn't make any sense? Mikey was the best! There was no one better than Mikey in the whole world! How could there be people who didn't see that? And didn't they know that Raph couldn't go anywhere without Mikey? It didn't make any sense. None of it. But there was a pounding boom in Raph's chest that made it hard to breathe. His head spun, like he was just gone 4 rounds on the merry-go-around on the pier, and Raph couldn't THINK straight. He ran back towards the living room, he didn't care if he made any noise. He didn't care about anything really, at that moment. All he cared about was... Mikey. Still asleep and drooling on the couch from where Raph left him, and Raph practically jumped on top of his chest and clung onto his big brother for dear life, pressing his tear stained face into the front of Mikey's shirt. "Ouuufff! Hey- Hey Raph. You ok?" Mikey says in a startled slur, eyes blinking rapidly to tear away from sleep. His arms wrapped around Raph instinctually, like his body new what to do before his mind could catch up, and it felt like the most natural security blanket in the world to Raph. He cried harder into Mikey's chest. "Hey shhhhhh-shhhhhhhhh, buddy, it's ok. Breathe." Mikey was sitting up now, sleep all but forgotten as he stared down at the 7-year-old attached to his front, rubbing slow and gentle circles into Raph's back. "Raphie it's ok. You're ok sweetheart. You're safe and sound right here. Was it a nightmare? Did you have a bad dream?" And it sure felt like it. The world was spinning rapidly in a downward spiral of breathtaking hurt, just like a lot of Raph's nightmares. Except the monsters were real. They were real and practically right outside Raph's door and they could take Raph away any SECOND and Raph couldn't respond to Mikey. He wouldn't respond days, even weeks, later, when Mikey askes about it. All he can do is cry. Cry like his heart is breaking in half, and cling onto the safest and only lifeline in the world that he knows.

Thus spiraling Raph into a "clingy" stage, where he's terrified to be left alone for too long. Terrified to be separated in the grocery store, INSISTING Mikey hold his hand the entire time. Terrified to go to school and be away from his brothers for too long. Terrified to even SLEEP alone in his bed. And it's so wild to Mikey, because at first, it was kinda cute how a little bad dream made his baby brother all clingy to his side, and Mikey kinda enjoyed the endless attention.

But then it started getting a bit too close to real, actual hysteria and paranoia that Raph was dealing with, and it took a mental breakdown on Raph's part, after Mikey had been a little late picking him up from school one day, because Leo and Donnie both had extracurriculars, and usually Raph just hangs out in the playground and waits for Mikey to come. But this time, he's crying his eyes out, pale and breathless and endlessly fussy with his teachers by the time Mikey arrives, and he clings unto Mikey, like he'd never see Mikey again, and Mikey HAS to have a talk with him, because what on earth could scare his brother as bad as THIS? And when Raph finally tells him, Mikey doesn't know what to do but hold him to his chest as tight as he can and whisper pretty half-truths to Raph to make him feel better. Because Mikey couldn't blindly let himself believe the "Of course! Nothing will ever take you away from me Raph, it's all ok! You have nothing to worry about! Your big brother will make sure all of you are all safe and ok! I promise kiddo. No one is taking anyone away. I won't let that happen." How could he? This was a very real fear. It was Mikey's Biggest fear on the daily. But he couldn't let Raph feel like this. To carry this fear and burden. That was too much for a 7-year-old. Mikey didn't even realize Leo and Donnie were aware of their situation to that degree.

And it puts seeded pits of fear in his chest, taking root in his heart and feeding into something dark and cold and fearful. But Mikey does his best to push it down. Push it away. Out of sight of Raph and Leo and Donnie. And he smiles and laughs and presses kisses to Raph's temple and carries his baby brother piggyback all the way home, because he'll carry whatever weight his brothers are dealing with. Take on any fears. as long as they don't have to face them alone. As long as Mikey can still protect them, for as long and as hard as he can, then when the day comes that Bishop DOES show up at their door, he'll be ready for him.

#bbm au #big brother mikey au #rottmnt #rottmnt human #oh opps here some sad now

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stusbunker · 3 years

Text

AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls for all her help on this series.

Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement.

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards.

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job.

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls.

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes.

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion.

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?"

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer.

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash.

“Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

“Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

“You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

“It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically.

“Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

“That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

“Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

“You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in.

Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

“Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

“Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot.

“You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry.

“Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly.

“Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel.

The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo.

“Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs.

“Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

“We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

“What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas’s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

“True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

“We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

“I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

“Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

“Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?”

“Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

“I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

“I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

“You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

“You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

“It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered.

Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

“Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

“Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

“And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

“We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

“I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw.

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in.

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

Tagging: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @fookinghelljensensthighs @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @crashdevlin @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary @itmighthavebeenintentional @thoughtslikeaminefield @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6 @cracksinthewalls @atc74

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#A Gentlemen's Agreement #bi!dean #dean winchester fanficiton #dean/benny #dean x benny #coming out #john and mary #aga: spit it out #spn fanfic #spn au #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au

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silverwhiteraven · 3 years

Text

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 10

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 9 ] [ Chapter 11 ]

[ Summary: End of School picnic preparations! ]

To celebrate the class’s successful final project, they were putting together plans for a large picnic in the park at the end of the last day of school. The last day wasn’t mandatory for students to attend unless they had work to catch up on or tests to make up. So Marinette was spending that time at home, busying herself in the upstairs kitchen, preparing food and treats.

A faint knocking sound distracted her a couple hours in, and after making sure she could walk away without anything burning, listened for the source. She gasped and smiled when she realized it was coming from above her, from her own room. The balcony! Chat must be here!

She ran up to her room and up to the lost, and sure enough, she could see Chat Blanc, seated on the balcony floor next to the trapdoor. She pushed it open quickly, and he perked up, his tail flicking and wings spreading out behind him excitedly.

“Princess! You came!” He smiled wide.

Marinette giggled and pulled herself up to sit next on the edge of the hatch. “But of course, I can’t just leave my Knight outside like a stray now can I?” He laughed at that and she hid her smile behind her hand. “So what are you doing here, gryphlet?”

“Well you see,” he flourished a hand dramatically as he spoke, “I heard that today of all days was your last day of collège, and I wanted to congratulate you. So here I am.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You sure it’s not because I'm cooking? If you heard about it being our last day, then there's no way you didn't hear that we’re planning a picnic later, too.”

He gasped dramatically, setting a clawed hand to his chest like he had been hurt. It did nothing to erase the cute smile on his face, though. “You doubt my intentions, Princess? Well, you are right to do so,” he sighed dramatically. “Indeed, I am not just here to congratulate and shower you in praise, but to rob you of your goodies. Forgive this dashing rogue of his glutinous ways?”

He fluttered his eyes at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. “You are forgiven, on one condition,” she raised her hand, index finger raised to indicate her one condition.

“Name it,” he leaned in, looking ready to do anything.

“Help me with the baking and cooking for later,” she stated simply with a coy smile. “You can eat a portion of anything you make yourself. That’s the means for you to get fed. Deal?”

“Deal!” He hopped to his feet with a big grin and she gently laughed, happy to see his energy. She led him back down into her room and then into the kitchen.

She quickly checked on everything, making sure nothing had burned while she was gone. Satisfied, she waved Chat Blanc to join her at the counter. His previously excited mood was replaced by slight nervousness. He looked unfamiliar with the layout, though his eyes sparked with curiosity. Marinette tried not to stare as she cleared her throat and started introducing him to the ingredients and tools. “Now, don’t touch anything just yet,” she added when she finished showing him around. “Cooking has ground rules you should always follow.”

“Like a chemistry lab?” His ears flicked and wings shuffled, and she giggled, nodding.

“Yep, just like a chemistry lab. First, let's get you an apron.” She grabbed one of the hooks by the stairs, and as she went to toss the neck strap over his head, she noticed the decal on the front. Kiss the Cook. She blushed and turned it backwards, swiftly putting it on Chat before he could see. Now the decal was hidden from view and she wouldn't have to think about it. She then went behind him to tie the waist strap, but paused as she looked at his wings in the way.

“Something wrong?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your wings...These aprons are usually for my parents. I only use them when my wings are bound,” she said quietly, a bit awkward and unsure.

“Oh,” he replied softly. Her breath caught and she stepped back as his wings moved. They dropped slightly, only to completely fold up, pull against his back. He smiled at her gently over his shoulder. “Better? As long as you don’t tie it too tightly, I’ll be purrfectly comfortable like this.

Dropping her head to hide another blush, she nodded, coming closer and tying the apron. “So, uhm, next thing. Always keep your hands- uh, talons, washed.” He chuckled at her fumbled pun but nodded and went to the sink. She mentally facepalmed, knowing it would be awkward to wash gloves.

She carried on instructing him, meanwhile trying to keep to the edge of his vision until her flustering calmed down. She made sure he knew never to cross contaminate foods, to always clean the work area as they went, and continue to wash hands frequently. She scolded him when the oven timer went off and he almost reached in without proper hand protection. He was sheepish about it, but to her satisfaction, he didn’t make the mistake again.

At some point, she hadn't noticed the amount of flour dusting him because of how well it blended in. She only realized it when he had patted her head in reassurance that he could do a task without help now. The pat left a white handprint in her midnight hair, and she guffawed indignantly when she noticed it in her reflection on a mixing bowl. She didn’t bother trying to get it off, though, knowing it was pointless.

Finally, with quiche, pasta salad, croissants, and macaroons all done after a few more hours of working together, they were now sitting on the floor, waiting for the bread rolls to finish. The dishes and counters were already clean, the aprons were back where they belonged, and Marinette had even let out her wings to stretch them out alongside Chat Blanc’s. She tried not to think about their feathers brushing as they sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the oven like a pair of tired but happy hawks.

Chat started humming as they sat in comfortable silence, and she listened to the gentle sound. It was enhanced by a subtle purr, and she had to hold her breath to keep from giggling at the cuteness of the moment.

When he stopped, she asked in a whisper, “What song was that?”

“Hm? Oh,” he smiled softly and rubbed his neck. “A lullaby my mother used to sing. ‘Robin and his Maiden’. I made my own little parody of it not long after I got my Miraculous. Well, I only managed to do the first line, really, I'm stuck on the rest.”

Marinette sat up, attention caught. “Tell it to me, I want to hear.”

He hesitated, a blush under his mask indicating it was from shyness and not from doubt. “The original first line went like this: Little Robin on a roof, without his Maiden. The story is about Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Now I say it like this: Little Kitty on a roof, without his Lady.” Marinette giggled, realizing the comparison to her alter ego. “I’m stuck on the rest, because the story doesn't seem to quite fit with the changed names, you know?”

With a nod of understanding, she nudged his shoulder with her own. “Art is hard, I know. It’s okay to be stuck. You should try playing with the names a bit, maybe the rest will come to you along with fresh inspiration.”

He nodded and looked away, back to the oven as he began to hum again. Soon, the hums turned to words. “Little Gryphon on a roof, all alone without his Princess,” he gave a cheshire grin as she burst out in laughter and a fresh fluster. She pushed him over and he laughed as he flopped on the floor. She stood up and huffed, hiding her smile as she checked on the bread. The timer went off just in time, and, feeling satisfied with their golden brownness, she took them out and set them to cool on the counter.

She glanced at the clock and sighed. “Everything is done in time, that’s good. The picnic is in an hour.” She turned to Chat with a soft smile. “Without fail, I always end up late to meet-ups because I put way too much on my plate right before hand. Looks like I’ll be on time this year. I couldn't have done this without you, Blanc.”

He smiled back at her from his place on the floor, looking perfectly content to be there as he practically basked in her thanks. She laughed, feeling light and newly carefree. When they lulled back into comfortable silence, he sat up and looked at the clock himself. A sad smile replaced his normal one.

“Looks like I need to go before then. I have somewhere to be later, too.” He stood, brushing the last of the flour off his white suit, his wings fluttering as they too shook out little puffs of powder. Marinette nodded and joined him, leading him back upstairs and out onto her balcony.

“Thank you for stopping by, gryphlet. I had fun,” she looked away, smiling to herself. “And don’t forget these, your promised treats for helping.” She handed him a cardboard pastry box, containing a few of the goods they had made together.

He beamed at her as he accepted it, and then took her hand in his and bowed. “It was my pleasure, Princess.” He kissed the air above her knuckles and she giggled, struck breathless by his action. He straightened back up and let her go, smiling wide. “I’ll see you again soon.”

And just like that, he was leaping from her balcony and gliding away on wings that matched the sky and clouds.

It took her a little while to go back inside, having taken her time to be dazed as she processed the last few hours. Tikki had broken her out of it with barely restrained giggles and a reminder that they needed to get ready for the picnic with her class.

As expected, the hour passed by quickly after that, and with a little help from her parents, all of Marinette and Chat Blanc’s efforts were brought to the park and set out on tables alongside everyone else’s contributions.

Everyone in their class made it to the park, and a few had even dragged along some family members who were willing to celebrate with them. Many of them spent the whole picnic talking about the school year, and all the random moments that stuck in their minds. Hawkmoth and some Akumas were brought up at some point, and almost half an hour was subsequently spent on everyone acting out each other's Akumatized versions in light and welcomed jest.

When it all started to dwindle to a close, everyone spent time making summer plans together and discussing which lycées they were going to. It was sad to think that their group, together for four years strong, was going to be split up. Luckily, everyone had plans to join extracurricular school groups that were likely to have them meeting up just as often as before. Even their humanitarian projects like planting public trees and gardens was something they were excited to continue.

If anything, they all knew that distance wasn’t going to make their bonds any lesser.

And so, all in all, Marinette had a good time, and she felt ready to keep going into the future.

#marichatmay2021 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat blanc #ml wing au #wing-binding #willowbendt

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bubbly-bungee-may · 3 years

Text

ZoNa Valentine’s Week: Day 4 Why I Ship ZoNa: Part 1

So because i’ve never explained why I ship ZoNa, I’ve decided to use this Valentine’s Week as an excuse to make 3 separate posts on why I ship them.

They will be long posts because I am relying on the gifs I made of the anime rather than the manga (even though the manga may be more accurate, but I just started reading the manga so give me some time lol)

OKAY LET’S START.....

So just as a preface: First and foremost these two have known each other the longest. I’m not saying that in order to be a couple you need to know someone for a long time, but in ZoNa’s case I feel like it’s an important part of their relationship.

They started out as friends then shit went down in Arlong Park (namely where Nami plays the villain for a hot second and that shakes Zoro up cause he had trusted her) but then everything was settled and they went back to being friends.

I feel like that incident was necessary not only for the plot, but for Zoro and Nami’s relationship to develop. After everything, they now have full trust in the other and their relationship was able to evolve.

This all leads me to my first reason as to why I ship ZoNa:

1. They are friends FIRST

Yes, I ship them as a couple, but I believe that all successful relationships begin as friends (that’s just my own personal belief). A foundation built on friendship and mutual understanding and trust is what I believe allows this ship to sail.

And despite the fact that everyone thinks Nami and Zoro are only capable of fighting and butting heads, they are actually very good friends who are capable of holding normal conversations.

Exhibit A (Ep.54) : Nami took notice of how Zoro was acting strange and commented on it. She’s aware of his presence and isn’t just writing him off. And this also shows that she cares about him.

Exhibit B (Ep. 62) : Zoro wanted Nami’s opinion on what the strange sound he heard was. Also Nami is taking the time to answer him; she could’ve just ignored him completely but she decided to pay him attention.

Exhibit C (Ep. 154): This is a very brief moment, but Zoro and Nami have a conversation about dropping anchor and the layout of the island. And they are both on the ship alone and idk I like to think that Zoro was waiting for Nami to be done changing so that they could go on the island together.

Exhibit D (Ep. 161): Nami wanting Zoro’s opinion as to if he saw anything. Just shows that she trusts his judgment and how she can rely on him.

Exhibit E (Ep. 161): Short conversation, but still important. Zoro is showing concern and care for Nami by telling her to be more careful. And Nami is replying sincerely.

Exhibit F (Ep. 217): Zoro notices Nami is mad without even looking at her. If that doesn’t tell you how well he knows her by now, then idk what does. But it’s also important that Zoro is listening to her concerns and commenting on them.

So YES, they can hold normal conversations, here is the proof! And having known each other the longest, they also know the other well.

Zoro can spot Nami’s money obsession anytime, anywhere. (Ep.105)

And Nami knows how much Zoro loves sake, so she went out of her way to get it for him. (look at how happy he is hehe) (Ep. 255)

And this ⤵ gif (Ep. 159) is one of my newfound favorite moments and leads us into the next reason. It’s not in the manga, but maybe the animators are also ZoNa fans....??

2. They are comfortable around eachother.

Okay, but doesn’t it seem like Zoro is teasing Nami?!?! She almost ran into a tree and then Zoro is like “oooo a perfect opportunity to tease her”. Idk I just found this part super cute. Like Zoro isn’t usually one to be playful like this, but he is with Nami and ughhh it’s so cute!

And then the multiple times that Zoro is seen sitting/sleeping next to/near Nami. It just shows that they don’t mind each other’s company and honestly (intentional or not) I think they gravitate towards each other because of how comfortable they are with each other.

Exhibit A (46): He came to sit next to her during breakfast when he could’ve sat down next to his captain. Like is this his seat? Has he claimed the spot next to Nami as his own? ..... I like to think so.

Exhibit B (48): The start of Zoro’s debt. I just love how Nami leans in and he doesn’t seem to mind it hehe.

Exhibit C (Episode of Alabasta): The circumstance here was a bit different, but I like to think that she just wanted to be close to Zoro. And idc who tf you are, but if you were in Zoro’s position you can’t just not think about or be conscious about the woman on you. Like yeah you can call yourself friends, but you gotta be at least a bit conscious of where you’re touching and what’s touching you.

Exhibit D (Ep.149) : The start of the famed drinking buddies act. Nami moved here after pouring Robin a drink so I like to think that she felt comfortable and decided to settle down next to him. So i’m guessing Zoro’s seat is next to Nami during breakfast, and Nami’s seat is next to Zoro when they’re drinking?!

Exhibit E (Ep. 193): Psssst Zoro, just scoot your hand over a smidgen

Exhibit F (Ep. 225) : Before one of my favorite parts in the Foxy Arc (that will be shown in another part hehe).

Exhibit G (Ep 228): The two of them were up here alone before Sanji came. I like to think that Nami was relaxing and then Zoro came up wordlessly and just plopped down and fell asleep (before Sanji interrupted)

Exhibit H ( Ep 554): Honestly, Zoro is used to it at this point. And this just proves that Nami believes in his strength and believes that he will protect her no matter what.

Exhibit I (569): Ah yes the drinking buddies, an upgrade from Sky Island.

Exhibit J (569): Ah yes the sobering-up buddies. I made another post (here) on this, but I like to think Zoro likes being near her so he can protect her.

Now, I’d also like to make the argument that them butting heads is actually proof of how close they are.

Nami isn’t afraid of getting close to him and giving him a piece of her mind. Remember in my previous post when Zoro does this with Nami (who is Sanji in Nami’s body). Yeah, they def don’t mind being close to each other even when it comes to arguing.

(Ep 93)

You’d think Zoro would learn that he can rarely win an argument with Nami, but nah, that ain’t Zoro. Personally, I think Zoro low key likes arguing with her. Aside from Nami the only one he really argues with is Sanji (but even then what they argue about is usually something petty). (Ep 147)

I really like this gif because it shows that Zoro is trying to explain to Nami why they did what they did. She thinks they were “beaten”, but that isn’t necessarily correct, so he was trying to get her to see the real picture.... which she didn’t. lol (Ep 151)

But if there’s one thing I noticed about Zoro and Nami’s relationship when it comes to arguing, it’s that the other party is trying to get the other one to see from their point of view; they don’t argue just to argue.

Putting aside the fact that they were arguing about marriage (although if they ever did get married I’d think Nami would want something extravagant while Zoro would just be like “whatever just wake me up when I have to go in” ah okay my imagination is running wild.. stop stop)

Anyway, this part is important because this time it’s Nami who is trying to get Zoro to see from her point of view. Of course, she can’t do so without yelling and gnashing teeth, but the sentiment is the same-she wants Zoro to understand where she’s coming from. (Ep 764)

I mean look, friends have differing viewpoints and thoughts. Yes, they may disagree, but in the end it doesn’t really matter because people can still think differently but be close. Ever heard the saying “opposites attract”? yeah, that’s basically ZoNa in a nutshell. They may argue and disagree, but I think that brings them even closer.

And Zoro is usually referred to as the “calm and cool” guy, but the fact that he easily loses his “cool” over something slight that Nami says, idk I just find that cute that she’s able to get under his skin like that.

I love the dynamic between the two. They’re opposites who like to fight, but always have each other’s backs and couldn’t stand to see the other hurt.

#zona #zonami #zonalove #zonaforever #one piece #nami one piece #zoro one piece #nami #zoro #only otp #one piece otp

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ramblinganthropologist · 3 years

Text

Crossed over

Summary: Garrus has something to tell Shepard before they get down to pound town. Same hat, though? Same hat.

(I wrote this originally for pride but didn’t finish it in time. Yes I am 100% pulling this out of my ass, but who cares. My city now.)

---

Shit.

Garrus’ heart was still racing as the door to the main battery shut in front of him. Only moments prior, the Normandy’s commander had been standing there, chatting with him. Well… chatting wasn’t really the right word. Propositioning, maybe? That felt more on the face plate to him, but it just sounded so salacious for something coming from the man people had dubbed humanity’s boy scout.

He didn’t know what a boy scout was, but he was fairly sure they didn’t make suggestions like that…

“I guess I need to… ask Mordin about this.”

His hand hesitated on his omni-tool before he could make the call. The salarian would be good for positioning and allergic warnings, but he didn’t need that at the moment. That wasn’t going to quiet the frantic racing of his heart. He needed somebody else for that, someone he was still on shaky terms with.

But he needed someone would listen and not need a million clarifying questions…

His talons typed in the familiar number, and it was soon sending out the request. Thanks to being so close to a mass relay, it would go through no problem. Well, that and the fact Cerberus had souped up the Normandy’s communication system in several definitely off the market and illegal ways. Though that really wasn’t his problem anymore – he hadn’t been part of C-SEC for over two years.

Just… old habits die hard he supposed.

The call took a few seconds to connect, but he soon heard the sounds of Palaven on the other end. Garrus felt his stomach drop as he realized just how late it was on his homeworld. No doubt he had woken up the other party from a deep sleep – that was strike two for him before he had said a word.

Strike one, naturally, was going off on Omega and becoming a mercenary who took a rocket to the face. She was still mad about that.

“Garrus?”

Solana sounded tired. He could hear her shifting on the other end, no doubt because she had been in bed and fast asleep. Guilt swarmed in his stomach, but his resolve pushed it away. As the humans said it, in for a penny in for a pound.

And boy, he was going to get a pounding…

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The humans of the Normandy would’ve never noticed it, but no doubt his sister had already picked up on just how frantic he sounded. Right then, any turian within a couple hundred yards probably could’ve picked it up. Hell, a passing ship might have even gotten the hint if they hadn’t been in FTL drive. But he tried anyway – he had his pride in the end.

“Uh, hey, Solana. Sorry, I realize it’s late and all, but- “

Right then, he could imagine her mandibles twitching in annoyance, but also the gleam in her eyes that gave away just how curious she actually was. After all, he wasn’t the call home type. Never had been really, especially after their mother had passed. It just sort of got pushed to the back and they caught up when they could.

“Gar, you’re freaking out so loud the humans are going to hear it. You’re not dying again, are you?”

Hey, that had been a one-time deal. It wasn’t like he had a habit of taking rockets to the face or anything…

Garrus took a deep breath to steady himself once more, and he allowed his body some respite by dropping it onto the cot he kept in the battery. Sure, he probably could’ve had a bunk elsewhere – but that would’ve been with humans who had no problems working with Cerberus. As the object of his anxiety would’ve put it, taco was good out there.

He still didn’t get that – what did food have to do with displeasure? Humans were weird…

“I’m fine.” His mandibles twitched. “Just… had a talk with Shepard.”

Solana’s subvocals were curiosity city as she leaned in. “The big one or the dead one?”

“He’s not dead anymore…” Garrus’ voice trailed off. “And the little one, yeah.”

On the other end of the line, he heard his sister chuckle. “What, did you two have a fight about calibrating or something? That’s not exactly something to call me over, Gar. He’s not going to kick you off the…”

Her voice trailed off, no doubt because she had put the pieces together. He felt his stomach squirm as he waited in the pregnant silence, knowing the ball was going to drop any second. Really, this was the last thing he wanted to tell her…

“Please tell me you told him before you two fucked.”

Garrus’ mandibles almost let him lift off the ground as he jumped to his feet on instinct. “We haven’t… not yet. We were just… he made suggestions. I think we’re going to eventually, once we both put some research in. Kind of hard to smash a turian and a human together and all…”

His voice trailed off, realizing just how awkward he sounded. Really, the logical side of him knew he was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like he was a virgin like Shepard was. There were a few lovers in his past, so for the most part he knew what he was doing. It was just… well, humans were odd.

Solana’s voice was steadier the next time she spoke. “So… you’re planning to fuck your CO.”

“Yes, I know, I’m a walking stereotype.” The embarrassment could have choked a krogan. “Honestly… I don’t even know why I called. I just…”

His sister finished for him. “You’re worried about how he’s going to react if you tell him, because you’re planning on filling him in.”

Garrus was left standing there in the battery, mandibles almost to the bottom of his neck. He had no idea what kind of vocals he must’ve been giving off then, but they had to be something. After all, Solana wasn’t making fun of him. When it came to his love life, she loved nothing more than doing that. It was some older sister commandment: thou shalt pick on thy little brother for his terrible interest in people.

So… yeah.

“Gar?”

He shook his head. “Yeah, I guess that’s it,”

Solana shifted a pillow on the other end. “He’s a medic, right? He’ll at least understand it that way.”

Enough interaction with medical staff had taught Garrus that didn’t mean a whole lot of anything. Besides, he wasn’t looking for a checkup, this was practically starting… something. And maybe that’s why his stomach shifted so badly at the thought of it as he glanced around the battery.

Shit…

“I mean… do they even hold classes on that outside of turian occupied areas?” He sighed. “It’s easier with us… I don’t know how a human is going to feel about it.”

His sister’s subvocals shifted to something that reminded him of when he had been smaller, and she had stood by him on the playground. He was bigger than her now… but something about it was oddly comforting. It was also kind of embarrassing, but he was going to take what he could get at the moment.

“Well, if he starts shit, tell him to count his days.”

Despite his anxiety, Garrus found himself chuckling. “You’re really going to threaten the first human Spectre?”

“He died once; I can make it happen again if he hurts you.” The certainty in Solana’s voice was a strange comfort then. “Seriously, if he has a problem with it, then he’s an ass and he’s not worth it. Not your fault he’s a dumb human who doesn’t get what it means.”

Another chuckle – he knew when he had lost a fight. “Thanks, but I think I can handle it. Besides, you’re kind of on Palaven.”

Not that that meant anything – piss Solana off enough and she’d find a way to show up.

“Lucky him.” Solana let out a yawn that helped Garrus know their call was ending. “I mean it, Garrus. If he says anything…”

He found the knot in his stomach loosening as he sat back down. “I’ll send you our coordinates.”

“That’s my little brother. Now, get the hell off the line. I gotta get up for work in 4 hours.”

Well, love you too…

Still, Garrus let his sister go and the battery lapsed into silence once more as the call ended. He could hear life on the other side of the heavy door as the crew went about their duties, but right then it didn’t matter. He had made up his mind over the course of the call, so now he felt more resolute.

Was he still terrified? Absolutely. Humans were fucking unpredictable. After all, who else launches out of a mass effect field and starts fighting with the first sentient species they meet? They had a species wide death wish or something…

But that didn’t matter then. Now it was time to figure out what he wanted to say. And at least he had time for that as he waited for the big gun in front of him to show him some data.

---

A few weeks later, and there he was. Garrus shifted from foot to foot as the elevator door opened and let him out. He had been to the top of the Normandy before, enough that he knew the layout. Past that door was the object of his anxiety, waiting on the pretense of a talk about what they were planning.

Maybe it had been a while since he had last had sex, but he definitely didn’t remember that much thought put into it before. Was it because he was getting older, or because his partner was a squishy human?

“That you, Garrus?”

Shepard’s soft voice carried through the metal. Something about it always set the turian’s heart beating a little faster. In those moments, he found it hard to talk. So, in the end he just stood there like an idiot.

This was going great, clearly.

Thankfully, Shepard wasn’t a stupid man. His head appeared through the open door, checking to make sure he was ok. Today he had his hair pulled behind his head – he was fairly sure he called it a ponytail – and out of his face. No doubt he had been working with Saren. The hamster had full face privileges at pretty much anytime. And yes, he was jealous of a hamster for that.

So sue him.

The words brought hm back to life. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, guess I was more tired than I thought.”

The Spectre smiled at him as he motioned for Garrus to follow. Just as the turian had thought, he had been working with his hamster. From the looks of things, it had been a deep clean and a cage change if the shredded bedding meant anything. No doubt the man in charge of it all had been cleaning it up when he had come calling.

“What’s Saren got this time?”

Shepard gestured to the cage as they moved past his desk towards the sitting area. “I went for an under the sea theme. It seemed appropriate; he is living in the old fish tank system.”

That would explain the sunken ship half buried in the substrate. He had to hand it to the human, he really knew how to spoil his pets…

Together they sat at the table, Garrus positioned so he could just see Shepard’s unmade bed in the background. It was so close, but it felt like lightyears away. He was supposed to get on that eventually with the Spectre…

Talk about nearly giving himself a heart attack.

“Anyway, you wanted to talk about …”

Shepard’s voice dropped and his cheeks turned pink. Humans called that blushing, and it was pretty noticeable on the ones with light skin. It usually turned the Spectre krogan rampage red if he got going, so things weren’t too bad yet. He could work with this.

Still, Garrus felt tense as he gazed over at the human. At least both of them were nervous about this, so he didn’t feel completely stupid. In a way, that was helpful as he tried to find the words he had practiced for a week.

Naturally, they had abandoned him at the sight of those blue eyes. He was a sucker for blue…

“Yeah. There was something… I needed to tell you.”

His talons tucked against each other as he tried to keep from looking at the human. “Just so we both know what we’re getting into and all.”

“You’re not allergic to human body fluids, are you?”

Shepard was so matter of fact in his tone that Garrus felt himself chuckling without meaning to do it. Leave it to the Spectre to find a way to relax him without consciously attempting it. Maybe that was his real superpower – the biotics were just a fun perk.

But yeah… maybe he could do this.

“No, I’m good there.” Another deep breath. “Just uh… I don’t really tell people this. None of their business, and most non-turians wouldn’t get it anyway.”

At that, Garrus paused and checked the sight in front of him. Shepard was watching him, analyzing him maybe. He had stopped nervously tugging at the end of his ponytail, and his hands were in his lap. From the looks of things, he had the Spectre’s undivided attention.

No pressure.

“Something up, Garrus? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t- “

He held up his hand. “No, I feel like I should. We’re getting kind of… close.”

The tension rippled across his carapace as he felt it on the tip of his tongue. “Do… you know what it means to be crossed?”

At that point, the translating function on their omni-tools went haywire. Whatever Shepard normally heard when it worked, he definitely wasn’t getting it then. At least the man hadn’t winced at the sound of him untranslated. That was probably a good sign for cross-species relations if there ever was one.

“Sorry, the translator didn’t pick that up. I got something about a mix up?”

Well, half points for trying.

Garrus nodded as he tried to pick his words carefully so they would translate right. “Something like that. You know we believe in spirits, right?”

When Shepard nodded, he continued, stomach churning all the while. “Well… sometimes the spirit and the body it’s in have a disagreement about… things I guess.”

Disagreement was putting it mildly, of course. Garrus would’ve rather called it an all-out war in his early teens when the bad feelings were at their peak. Now it was mostly quiet – thank you, modern medicine – but sometimes it still whispered in his thoughts when he least expected it. His spirit was a tricky one like that, no wonder he had lasted so long on Omega.

But… yeah, he was getting away from the awkward conversation he was having. That was probably a bad coping mechanism left over from being a merc.

Shepard still seemed tuned into the conversation at the very least. “Ok… so your mind and body don’t… agree on something? Is that what I’m getting?”

“Pretty much. It’s not super common, but it happens.” His mandibles flapped as he tried to find the words. “There are ways of… making the spirit more comfortable depending on what way you need to go. Medical procedures help, but oftentimes one of the best ways is to just live the way your spirit wants.”

He had been 13 when his spirit had started acting up. That was a common age, though he didn’t exactly hang out with many crossed turians these days…

His shoulders still tensed as he snuck a glance at the human – hadn’t lost him completely. “I guess I’m trying to tell you… that I’m crossed. Not that it’s going to matter for us in bed, the hormone therapy has pretty much taken care of everything. I only have to take a maintenance dose every couple months…”

His voice trailed off. Shepard hadn’t said anything for a long time. Instead, the Spectre seemed to draw into himself. Something about that made Garrus’ stomach drop and almost instantly he regretted saying anything at all.

Maybe he was going to need Solana after all…

His voice was shaky when he spoke again. “Look, I get that it doesn’t- “

“So, you’re like the turian version of trans?”

Garrus blinked. The word was a new one, he had learned it from listening to the crew. Mentally, the translation ran through his head as he sat there, trying to remember what it meant. Something about gender?

What was that again, an ice cream flavor? He was kind of drawing a blank…

“Uh… don’t really get what that is, Shepard. You’re going to have to explain it to me before I can say anything.”

There was a glint in the man’s eye then as he nodded. “Basically, humans have a thing where their brain and body don’t match up. We can also fix it with medical procedures, but the best way is the same way you’ve got.”

The turian found himself nodding. “Guess that would be the human version of being crossed, yeah.”

In that moment, Garrus wasn’t sure what to expect as the pieces fell into place. It was Shepard, but Shepard was still human. More importantly, it was impossible to read how he was reacting then. His face was utterly blank as he sat there, staring down at his hands.

In the words of the Spectre… he should probably go.

Garrus could feel something breaking inside still as he stood. “I get it’s probably not what you expected. It’s ok… I just ask you don’t spread it- “

Those eyes were on him as Shepard reached out to keep him from going. “Damn it, Garrus, same hat.”

…

“Same…”

A wide grin broke out on Shepard’s face as he started laughing. “I think we’re in the same boat here if you’re telling me you’re on the turian version of HRT. Holy shit, talk about one hell of a relief. I thought you were going to say you were allergic to humans or something.”

The translation whirred in Garrus’ visor as he wordlessly sat back down. He had a full picture now, and it was one hell of a sight. The tension that had been vibrating across his carapace began to melt away as he listened to the human laugh, and soon he found himself chuckling as well.

Solana was never going to believe this.

“Nope, still not allergic to humans.” His mandibles twitched. “So… you humans do it too then?”

Shepard was still smiling as he nodded. “Yeah. If not for my biotics fucking everything up, I would’ve been on HRT too by now. But then you wouldn’t get to hear my lovely, squeaky voice cracking over the battlefield and who would want to miss that?”

“I wouldn’t…” Garrus’ voice trailed off. “Oh…”

Well, from the sound of things he hadn’t needed to worry. Maybe he didn’t need his older sister to come beat up his not-yet lover yet after all. His pride would survive for at least one more day at this rate.

Honestly, he felt lighter than he had in weeks. If not for the ship’s gravity, he might have been floating then. Then again, that might have been caused by Shepard’s quiet chuckles over all of this. Something about the man’s laughter always put him at ease.

“I can’t believe you thought I was cis, though.” The human had gone back to playing with the end of his ponytail, though from the motions it was less nerves and more something to do with his hands. “I would be insulted if you were human.”

Garrus felt his mandibles twitch. “It’s not like I know the difference, Shepard.”

“You literally saw my dick fall out of my pants, Garrus.”

…

Yeah, well… he wasn’t the medic, now was he? For all he knew, they were supposed to do that.

Still, at his silence Shepard just chuckled more. Surprisingly, he seemed lighter as well as he sat back. Maybe because of his own nerves, but he hadn’t noticed just how tight the man’s shoulders had been when he had entered. No doubt they had been worrying about similar things if there was that much crossover.

Something, something, communication made for happy relationships.

“Well, clearly we’ve got plenty of research to do if we want to do this right.” The human sounded much happier as he looked down at his always present omni-tool. “I mean… if you still want to and all. I understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

Garrus all but hopped to his feet. “No! I mean… no, I haven’t changed my mind. I’m just glad I know what to research. I think I was looking at the wrong vids…”

“Well, that makes two of us, unless you guys figured out a way to fix anatomical issues we’re still working on. Turian anatomy seems a little more straight-forward when it comes to genitals, what with everything being internal.”

…

You know, he probably should’ve found his anatomy being discussed in such clinical terms rather dry. Yet the fact Shepard seemed so relaxed about the whole thing was rather heartening. Maybe he was just more relaxed now that the bomb had dropped and he still had both of his mandibles.

He was glad for that – the implant surgery to fix him the first time had really sucked.

“I think you’ll be fine with whatever you’re looking at.” He let out a sigh of relief. “So… good talk?”

Even he knew that sounded awkward. Yet, the other man chuckled and nodded as he stood at last, pushing his ponytail behind his shoulders as he approached the turian. Apart from when they were getting shot at, it was probably the closest they had ever been.

“Yeah. Good talk.”

And then he smiled. “So, uh… I need to finish cleaning up from Saren. Unless you want to help with that?”

Garrus was already on his feet, eyeing the door. “I think I have some calibrations to get to down in the battery.”

Shepard’s cheeks briefly puffed out, but then he allowed a rather laid-back chuckle. “Alright, I get the idea. I’ll talk to you later, Garrus. Good luck with the calibrations.”

Luck – he certainly had a lot of that at the moment.

Garrus honestly felt lighter as he left the man’s quarters to return to his spot in the battery. The weight that had pressed down hard on his talons had evaporated, like gravity no longer affected him. It was a bit strange – the ship was set to adjust to that – but right then he wasn’t thinking like a tech as he rode the elevator back down.

All things considered, that had gone better than he had expected.

“Well… doubt Solana is going to believe this one. Who knew humans had it too…” he trailed off as the door opened to the crew floor. He let the matter drop for the moment, focused instead on getting back to work. After all, the Normandy was a big ship, and keeping her running was a heavy task he was more than happy to deal with.

Still… it was good to know they were on even footing. Maybe it wouldn’t go as badly as he thought it might. But he definitely needed to change his vids…

But he could worry about that later. A big gun needed some specialized calibrations if they were going to live another day. He could think about his sex life later.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #trans!Garrus #my city now mfers #tf4 shakarian is now my canon lol #Alistair Shepard #Garrus Vakarian #they're not gonna fuck until ME3 tho

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 47

First

~~~

She hummed to herself as she wandered through town. She really wished they would have trusted her enough by now to just tell her their hideout location. Even if they were right to be suspicious, they really had no reason to be. She didn’t think she’d be alive if they found out she was working for the bats, so why…?

Marinette was pulled from her thoughts when she saw the henchmen. She calmly put her hands in the pockets of her dress as they approached. Fighting back or running away was useless, considering it was about ten on one and she was still trying to remain mostly unknown, so why bother?

“Hey, fellas!” She chirped.

They didn’t smile or respond, but she was used to that.

What she wasn’t used to was them forcing a bag over her head without giving her tranquilizer. She gave a tiny, confused frown as she was hoisted over someone’s shoulder and carried out into the night.

She felt her feet touch ground and smiled as she pulled the bag off of herself.

A glance around made the difference obvious. Joker wasn’t there. She resisted the urge to pump her fist in the air at the tiny victory.

Harley nearly tackled her in a hug and she rolled her eyes, but still hugged back. “Woo… almost time,” she said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster.

Harley seemed to brush off her hesitance as nerves, as she pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said: “Don’t worry about it, darlin’! Everything's going to plan!”

“Right, so… what is the plan, exactly?”

The Rogues went still. All eyes slowly made their way to Penguin, who gave a small shrug. “Hm... guess I never told her… oops?”

“I thought we all agreed she was trustworthy!” Said Scarecrow.

Penguin gave a small shrug. “Information is power.”

“Not when you’re keeping it from your allies!” Hissed Catwoman.

He shrugged as if to say ‘agree to disagree’. “Joker was right, though, she’s not cut out for murder. Maybe we shouldn’t involve her.”

Crap. There was no way in hell that she was going to screw up this close to the end… she raised her eyebrows teasingly. “Aw, Penguin, is that you trying to care about me? That’s so sweet of you!”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He knew that she was just doing it to annoy him into including her but that didn’t mean it didn’t work: “Of course not! I just don’t want a liability on my team!”

She hummed lightly. “Mhmm, sure. But Joker agreed I wasn’t a liability, so…”

“How would you know that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Marinette smiled. “So, what’s the plan?”

Poison Ivy smiled and walked over to pull out a handy chalkboard. She drew a crude map of the layout of the Wayne Mansion with a bunch of squiggles in the middle of the courtyard to represent all the people. “Right. At eleven-thirty you’re going to portal us inside the house because that doesn’t change. We crash the party and after that… how many portals can you maintain?”

She hesitated. “For more than a few minutes? One set.”

Harley nodded slowly and circled the two gates. “Alright, then we need you to hold up portals by these two main exits so people will have a hard time escaping.”

“Escaping… what?”

Poison Ivy beamed. “We’re going to assassinate every person in a position of power.”

That wouldn’t work unless… She went pale. “But… it’s a masquerade. There’s… how will you tell?”

Please, please, please don’t be saying what she thought they were saying --.

“Everyone there has power of some sort, either politically or economically.” Scarecrow explained. “And if the past few years have proven anything it’s that they aren’t using it right. So: anarchy.”

“But anarchy doesn’t just work like people think it does! Sure, there will be no real laws for a little while, but it’s temporary! It’s a power vacuum! Eventually someone will come along and grab everything.”

“Exactly!” Said Penguin. “And since everyone else will be rather… indisposed, it’s ours!”

Hands came up to rest on her shoulders.

She swallowed thickly and looked away. Her mind found its way to the question he’d asked her when they’d been playing cards. ‘What is it you need?’ She’d given him the answer ‘power’ and this was his appeal to that.

And she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t tempting. She’d never be hurt again, she’d never be weak again. But she wouldn’t give into that temptation. She couldn’t. Couldn’t even pretend to. Because they would give power to her if she asked them to.

And she didn’t know what she’d do.

She pushed his hands away and took a step back. “There are going to be kids at the Gala.”

“Don’t worry, we have a plan to get them out,” said Catwoman, who walked over and slung herself over Marinette’s shoulders. “Why? Scared for your little boy toy?”

Her face warmed and she sighed. “A little, but also for the actual kids. How are we getting them out?”

The woman shrugged against her. “Manually. We’ll all pick them up, give them a bit of money, and send them on their way before we open fire.”

Marinette cringed. “You’re going to ‘send them on their way’? They’re kids! They won’t survive!”

“At least we’re giving them a chance to,” said Scarecrow.

“Besides,” added Penguin. “If they want they can join us as henchmen! Most of the street kids end up that way, anyways.”

She felt bile build in her throat.

She’d hoped, somewhat naively, that with a little bit of work and guidance they could all be good people. Sure, they all had done some horrible stuff, but she’d thought that they were mostly victims who had been manipulated by people who knew what they wanted and how to get it -- like Joker and, to a lesser extent, Penguin. But now… she was forced to confront the fact that, beyond whatever had happened in their lives to make them snap, they were ultimately smart people. They were perfectly aware of what they were doing and were absolutely okay with it. Took joy in it. It would take theoretical years of work for them to ever be fully rehabilitated, and even then she had her doubts it could work.

But then Harley reached out and poked her cheeks up into a smile and gave her such a kind look that Marinette managed to hold onto a scrap of that hope. There had to be some little pieces of humanity left in them, she’d seen them poke through -- they’d been angry when their henchmen had hurt her, they’d decided to spare the children (even if they had to justify it like that). There was still someone in there, some conscience begging to be listened to. And that was enough. She could work with that.

She at least had to try.

Marinette brought a smile to her face, taking Harley’s hands in hers. This was all if the bats won, of course, and though she hoped they would...

She figured she should have a backup plan in place. And if the Rogues won, there were some people who would need her help far more: “Can I have a mansion to help the kids? I don’t like the idea of just leaving them to fend for themselves.”

Harley smiled and squeezed her hands. “Of course! I’m sure Penguin can give you a nice one in his territory.”

Penguin opened his mouth to protest.

The woman’s eyes went cold. “I’m sure Penguin can give you a nice one in his territory,” she repeated.

He let his mouth fall closed and nodded his agreement.

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh. Then she pursed her lips as she mused aloud: “Right, so Penguin is doing this for the money and/or power.”

“Of course.”

“I assume Scarecrow is here for the fear.”

“And the elite status, really,” Scarecrow waved her off.

She nodded. “Noted. Ivy is here for killing the rich.”

“Woo!”

“Riddler…?”

He shrugged. “Is bored.”

“Right. Sorry about that. Wanna do a puzzle together in a minute?” They exchanged smiles and she continued: “Catwoman wants money.”

“Money is good,” the woman agreed.

“And Harley is here for Joker. But why is Joker doing it?”

Harley shrugged calmly. “Why does he do anything? For Batman’s attention.”

“Doesn’t he always have it? The guy could probably walk through town and Batman would show up.”

She gave her a sad smile. “It’s never enough.”

~~~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna @ultimatetornshipper

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #satisifed #maribat

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spareseratoninplz · 3 years

Text

More Than Pain Bakugo x Y/N reader insert Ch. 2

“Miss…? Excuse me, miss…?” I was gently shaken awake by a hand, and when I woke up a friendly looking gentleman was smiling down at me.

“You’re miss (L/N), right?” He asked, and I nodded.

“Yes… how is my mother?” I asked, my brow immediately furrowing. He placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me from getting up, and took a seat across from me after pulling up a chair to sit on.

“Your mother is in stable condition… her case however… well, it’s uncertain.” He said, and my heart dropped.

“Case…? Uncertain…?” I echoed, and he cleared his throat.

“Your mother had a very serious seizure. Her brain was deprived of oxygen for too long, and this has caused her to slip into a coma. As I said, she’s in stable condition, but if she’s going to have any sort of chance of recovery, we’ll need to perform surgery…” He said the last few words very carefully, and I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“H-How much…?” I asked, and he hesitated before sighing deeply.

“54,200,000 ¥…*” The doctor spoke, and I felt my mouth go dry.

“Your mother’s insurance will pay for her accommodations here at the hospital until the money for surgery can be raised… with any luck, then surgery won’t be necessary. And she’ll simply wake up. Still, there’s the topic of muscle atrophy, and getting her the physical and psychological therapy to recuperate afterwards…” His voice faded out as my brain grew numb with the same question. How in the world am I supposed to raise that much money? As a middle school student I’m not allowed to have any sort of part time job. Not only that, but how was I supposed to pay for rent, power, water, and food when I had absolutely no income whatsoever?

“Miss (L/N)?” The doctor called out my name, and I snapped out of my stupor.

“Did you hear what I said?” He asked, and after a moment of hesitation, he realized I hadn’t.

“There is a program- a temporary service if you will- one that will place you in the care of a foster home… at least for the time being.” I nodded quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“Come with me and I’ll introduce you to the program’s coordinator.” He ushered me along, and I followed blindly, my eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

*One day later*

“Here we are! Oh, you are absolutely going to love this couple!” The coordinator opened the door for me to step out with nothing but my backpack on.

“Oh dear… are you certain that’s all you wanted to bring?” She asked.

“I don’t plan on being here for very long.” I said, walking passed her towards the front door. She followed me quickly, and rang the doorbell as I examined the outside structure of the house. It was rounded at the top with a subtle but elegant grey stone layout. The windows were large and somewhat tinted to reflect the incoming sunlight, and I couldn't help but think how clever that was of the designer to come up with. My attention was grabbed when the front door slowly opened to reveal a tall, muscular man with spiky brown hair, glasses, and the slightest hint of a mustache.

“Oh? Hey, you must be (F/N)! Mitsuki, she’s here!” He called behind him, and I could hear the sound of fast footsteps as she made her way to the front door, and nearly knocked the man over in the process.

“Who is it Masaru? Did you say (F/N)?” She asked. She poked her head out, and my eyes immediately focused on two distinctive features, her eyes and hair.

“(F/N)! It’s so good to meet you!” She exclaimed. Before I knew what was happening, she’d already pulled me inside.

“Katsuki! Come meet our guest!” She called out, and the moment she shouted that name, my blood ran cold.

“GO TO HELL!!!” He shouted back in response. Mitsuki only smiled at me briefly as the tension settled in the air. After a moment she turned to me with the same smile on her face.

“Wait right here dear, I’ll be right back.” She spoke softly and gracefully ascended the stairs to what I could only assume was Katsuki’s room. There were a few light knocks on the door before it sounded like the ceiling was falling in.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT YOU LITTLE SHIT!” She screamed. She then proceeded to drag Bakugou down the stairs by his ear, much to his protest, and tossed him onto the floor in front of us. My eyes locked onto a coat rack in the corner near the door, and I didn’t dare tear my eyes away for a moment. He stood to his feet and swung around as though he were going to strike his own mother, but instead she smacked the back of his head, and he fell to his knees right in front of me. I jumped back, and accidentally met his eyes. If looks could kill, I’d already be dead.

“(F/N) Is going to be staying here for a little while, and I want you to be the one to show her to her room.” Mitsuki ordered, and Katsuki simply glared at me before sliding his hands into his pockets and walking back towards the stairs.

“You comin’ or not?!” He demanded, looking at me sideways as though I were supposed to read his mind. I glared back, unimpressed before following behind him up the stairs.

We took an immediate right, and he placed his foot against a door before roughly kicking it open and stepping inside. I followed him in, and took a look around. Everything was so neat, tidy, and fresh smelling. They had even changed the bed linens and had a fluffy black bathrobe neatly folded on the bed along with a set of clothes. What was this place? A hotel? “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demanded, and I glanced at him over my shoulder.

“Your parents didn’t tell you what’s going on?” I asked, and he scoffed.

“All they said was we’d have a guest for a couple months. They never said anything about it being some dumb bitch.” He said, expecting to get a rise out of me, but I remained quiet.

“I’ll stay out of your way.” I said, giving him a cold look that he seemed taken aback by.

“The hell’s your problem?” He asked, and I exhaled slowly through my nose before neatly placing my backpack on the back of a nearby chair.

“Why? So you can degrade me on that too?” I asked, my tone just as cold as my icy glare. For once he had nothing to say as he stood there with the same angry look on his face.

“I get that you don’t like me, and I’ll stay out of your way while I’m here, so, just go do… whatever.” I said, my tone bland as I turned to start unpacking things from my bag. After a moment of silence I assumed he had just left, so when I heard the shuffling of feet, and suddenly found myself pinned up against the desk as his hands gripped the edges at my hips, trapping me in place. His body and face were both very close to mine, and radiating heat that I didn’t know could be generated from a human body.

“Listen here you, don’t come into my fucking house thinking you’re better than me just because you have some stupid-ass quirk, you got it?” He hissed, and my brow furrowed.

“What did I say to insinuate that I think I’m better than you?” I asked, pressing my hand against his chest to move him away, but he quickly caught my hand and gripped it tightly, maybe even painfully if pain was something I could feel.

“What was that shit you pulled the other day in the hallway, huh?” He asked.

“Let go of me.” I hissed, and he smirked in an almost challenging way.

“Make me.” He growled. I felt something swelling up within me. This anger that I wasn’t at all familiar with coupled with something else. I felt my body begin to shake, and I forcibly grabbed his wrist with the hand that he was holding me, and his eyes widened for a split moment before I flipped him onto his back. He grunted as I stood up and moved away from him, looking down at my own two hands as though they weren’t mine.

“Shit…” Bakugou cursed under his breath before sitting up, and rubbing at the back of his head. He shot me a bewildered look before standing straight up and marching over to me. He looked me over expectantly before clicking his tongue, and heading for the door. He froze just before walking through, and glanced back at me over his shoulder.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left… dinner’s at 5:30… and don’t touch any of my shit!” He spat before shutting the door behind him roughly. I sighed before shaking my head, and pulling my laptop from my bag. I settled in on the bed, and began surfing the web in hopes of winding down, and ignoring what had just happened with my quirk. I had never been able to use it that way before… then again, no one has ever made me feel so frustrated before either.

“Hm?” I hummed in thought as my eyes caught a glimpse of a flashy headliner. I clicked on the link as the webpage opened completely.

“UA RECOMMENDATION EXAM REPORTED TO BE REWARDING HIGHEST RANKING ENTRANT 55,300,000!”

All I could do was stare at the screen with my mouth hanging open, unable to think or speak.

It seemed all too easy, enter the exam, pass with the highest score, and win the money that I would need to get mom the surgery she needed… an additional 1,152,320¥ never hurts either… I quickly began looking up anything and everything that I could about this exam, and found out quite a bit about it relatively quickly.

“Let’s see… consists of a written exam, practical exam, and an… interview…? Alright, no problem, but… what would I do about references? That would be the main thing I need, right?” I mumbled to myself and groaned before flopping backwards onto the bed.

I can’t believe I’m even playing with thoughts like these. To think I’d even stand a chance against anyone who’s recommended to UA? It may seem like easy money, but now that I think about it, there’s no way it would be that easy. There was suddenly a gentle knock at the door, and I quickly stood from the bed to answer it.

“Mrs. Bakugou, I’m sorry was I being too loud?” I asked, and she chuckled before waving me off, and shooting me a smile.

“Not at all dear! I just came up to check and see how you were getting settled.’ She said, and I nodded before giving her a thankful smile.

“Oh yes, I’m fine. You have a beautiful home.” I said, and she smiled even brighter.

“Aren’t you the sweetest, thank you!” She giggled before banging her fist once against the door directly behind her before shouting.

“YOU HEAR THAT, KID?! WHY CAN’T YOU BE SWEET LIKE HER?!” Mrs. Bakugou shouted.

“WOULD YOU SHUT IT, YOU OLD HAG?! I’M TRYIN’ TO STUDY!” Bakugou shouted back. So, his room was directly across from mine…? Good to know. I thought sarcastically.

“WHY YOU-” I cut her off before she had a chance to shout again. She looked as though she were about to break down his door.

“Bakugou is actually a pretty nice guy at school!” I blurted out before I could think. She froze, and turned to me with a skeptical look.

“That’s not what I’ve heard…” She said, her brow furrowing.

“What? No, really. He helped me to find my locker and the cafeteria on my first day of school, and he’s always willing to help out when I need a partner during study period.” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie. He had helped me find my locker and the cafeteria on the first day… he just wasn’t super polite about it. As for the study partner thing, really we had just been paired up together by the teacher, and did our own work silently.

“He may seem a little harsh at first, but Bakugou is someone who is really very dedicated to his goal of becoming a pro hero. I admire him for not being afraid to speak his mind about things… it’s a quality I wish I had.” I admitted, and I suddenly found myself wondering why I was suddenly singing Bakugou’s praises when I didn’t really know two things about the guy.

“You’re too sweet, (F/N)... by the way, you’re welcome to call me Mitsuki.” She offered, and I nodded politely. She turned towards Bakugou’s door again, and lifted her hand ready to bang on it once more, but after a moment her body seemed to relax as though she had second thoughts, and she lightly knocked instead.

“Supper will be ready in about an hour, hon.” She said gently. After a moment of silence, Bakugou responded. “Whatever…” His voice sounded tired almost, but it held no anger. Mitsuki smiled gently before giving me a small nod, and heading downstairs. Somehow I felt good about what I did, and turned to return to my room, only to be met by the sound of Bakugou’s door creaking open.

“So what’s your deal, huh?” He asked. I looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and a bored expression on his face. I shrugged before resting my elbow against the doorframe, and pushing my hair back out of my eyes.

“I don’t know… I guess maybe you just don’t hear it as much as you should.” I said. His eyes lowered to the floor as though he were considering something.

“Hear what?” He asked. I swallowed hard, knowing what it was I was wanting to say, but I wasn’t sure how he would react.

“You’re a good guy, Bakugou… and I know you’ve built this reputation as the school’s hot head or whatever, but… I can tell by how hard you work that you truly do want to be a hero… and I don’t think you’d want to be a hero if you didn’t like people.” I said, and he remained silent, now resting his head against the door frame, and looking off down the hall.

“You’re so full of shit.” He spat, somewhat taking me by surprise, but I didn’t let it show.

“The other day, you were telling me to ‘grow up’... saying shit like ‘you’re not very heroic’- such bullshit.” He hissed, and for some reason an unfamiliar sensation hit me directly in the center of my chest before spreading to the rest of my body.

‘Is this… pain…?’ I thought to myself. Without realizing, my hand had come up and grabbed my shirt directly over my chest. My breathing began to increase, and my skin began to feel warm and flush.

“What is it? Just now realizing I’ve called you out on your bullshit?” He asked, crossing his arms again and smirking in an unnerving way.

“What? No, that’s not-” My breathing only increased, but it felt like all the air in my lungs had left me. I felt my eyes begin to burn as tears began to slide down my cheeks uncontrollably.

“Wh- hey. What’s wrong with you?” He asked, and I felt my body begin to shake as sobs began to rack my body.

“Shit, hey-” He kneeled beside me, and I hid my face from him. I’d never felt this way before in my life. As though someone had lit a fire at the center of my chest, but the rest of my body remained cold as Ice. How is it even possible to be freezing, and yet sweat at the same time?

“Calm your breathing and relax.” He said, his voice lower, and I felt him rest his hand on my back awkwardly, not knowingly exactly where to put it. After a moment I seemed to calm down, but I was still in shock at what had just happened.

“Wh-what… what was that…?” I mumbled to myself.

“You just had a fucking panic attack.” Bakugou said, now sitting on the floor next to me, and resting his head back against the wall. I could feel him watching me carefully, and after a moment he sighed.

“Look I… I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t think sayin’ that would… cause a panic attack alright? I always thought you didn’t have emotions.” He said.

“I… I usually don’t feel anything. Pain, anger, fear, sadness… I can absorb it back into my body, channel it and use the energy to heal myself or others…” I said, and suddenly realized I hadn’t ever really explained how my quirk worked before.

“So that’s what happened the other day? You didn’t block my attack, you absorbed it?” He asked, and I nodded.

“And that’s how you healed yourself?” He asked, and again I nodded.

“Yes… the stronger the quirk, the faster I heal.” I said, and he just stared ahead at the wall.

“Well… it’s not the shittiest quirk I’ve ever heard of.” He said, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. We sat in silence for a bit longer before I spoke again.

“I need to get into UA on recommendation.” I said, and his entire body stiffened.

“WH- THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!” He demanded, and I sighed.

“It’s not what you think okay, so don’t blow a fuse.” I said. I passed him my phone with the headline on it, and his eyes quickly skimmed over it.

“Yeah, I heard about that… so then what’s the deal? I thought you weren’t tryin’ to be a hero.” He said, and I ignored the fact that he knew that about me, and took my phone back from him.

“I… I just need the money, alright?” I admitted. I pulled my knees to my chest before resting my arms on top, and then my chin.

“What do you need with a shit-ton of cash like that?” He asked, and I laughed humorlessly. He didn’t respond after a moment of silence, so I sighed, and felt my brow furrow.

“Katsuki, (F/N) dinner’s ready!” Mitsuki called.

“HOLD YOUR HORSES WE’RE COMIN’!” Bakugou shouted back, but I was already standing.

“We should go eat. School in the morning.” I said, and he looked up at me with a stoic expression before standing himself and walking towards the stairs. I walked past him at the top of the stairs, and he grabbed my arm to stop me before I could continue.

“We’re not done yet.” He said, holding my gaze for several moments before turning away, and descending the stairs. I lightly brushed my fingers across my arm where he’d grabbed me, and felt an odd tingling sensation where his hand had been.

“I’m losing my mind…” I mumbled to myself before descending the stairs, and stepping into the dining room.

“Here you go (F/N) I’ve saved you a spot right next to Katsuki.” Mr. Bakugou said whilst drying his hands on a kitchen towel as Mrs. Bakugou finished placing the final plate of food on the table. I nodded silently before taking the seat I had been offered.

“The coordinator gave us a list with some of your favorites, so I made you some kakitama jiru!*” She exclaimed, very pleased with herself.

“It looks great, thank you Mrs. Bakugou.” I said, smiling kindly as I spooned it into a bowl along with some crispy noodles and a spoonful of green onions on top. The aroma was intoxicating, and I felt myself relax somewhat at the familiar smell.

“Would you like some Beef?” Mr. Bakugou offered, holding the plate out to me. I nodded before plucking a few pieces out, and placing them neatly on my plate before adding some steamed veggies and rice. Everything looked and smelled amazing. I couldn’t recall eating in the last few days, so this was more than welcomed.

“Have you had any news on your mother?” Mrs. Bakugou asked, and I felt the color immediately drain from my face. Any appetite I previously had was gone now. I lowered my chopsticks from my mouth before I could take a bite of food, and felt my hand shake slightly.

“Oh… uh… no ma’am. Nothing yet.” I said plainly, hoping she would just drop it.

“Oh… well, I’m very sorry to hear about what happened. We really hope she gets out of the hospital soon.” She said, and I felt my eyes drop to the table, suddenly intently focused on the pattern of the tablecloth, and nothing else. I wanted everything to fade away, and be silent. I wanted to be by myself where no one could see me like this because it was all new to me as well.

“Um… th-thanks…” I silently cursed myself for stuttering. They probably couldn’t tell I was uncomfortable since my body language wasn’t showing it. Would it be disrespectful to tell them that I was uncomfortable?

“Hey, we’re gonna eat upstairs.” Katsuki spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking through the haze of my hectic thought process.

“Huh? But you’ve already sat down.” Mrs. Bakugo said, dejected.

“I’ve been havin’ some trouble with English lately… she said she’d tutor me, so…” He lied, but I kept my mouth shut. Mrs. Bakugou looked utterly dumbfounded, but quickly smiled.

“Oh, of course!” She said gleefully. Katsuki grabbed his bowl, and I grabbed mine. I said my goodbyes as we ascended the stairs once more, and he all but forced me into my room. I placed the bowl down, and took a few deep breaths.

“Shit…” I mumbled to myself once my breath had come back.

“What’s going on with you? Why do you keep freaking out?” Bakugou scoffed, and I swallowed hard.

“Look, I’m not used to feeling emotions like this, okay?” I said, a bit more anger behind my tone than I had probably intended.

“Turn your shitty quirk back on then…” He said, as though it were the easiest thing.

“I… I can’t… I don’t know why but for some reason, I can’t.” I said, and he lifted an eyebrow.

“What you said before… when you said I’m ‘full of shit’... I don’t know how, or why, but for some reason or other, it caused my quirk to dissipate. That’s why I freaked out.” I said.

“So… you turn off your quirk, and you have a panic attack, or what the hell?” He asked, and I shook my head.

“No, no… look, I’ve had my emotions shut off since I was a child… sometimes they slip out, but I’ve always been able to keep them under control until a little while ago. At that time, I dunno…” I trailed off, taking a few breaths before continuing.

“I guess all the emotions that I’ve been holding back hit me at once.” I concluded, and Bakugou continued to sit there in silence.

“Why turn them off?” He asked, and the question caught me off guard.

“What?” I asked.

“Your emotions. Why turn them off?” He asked again, slightly annoyed this time at having to repeat himself.

“Oh… I dunno. It just seemed easier I guess.” I answered honestly. After a moment Katsuki stood with his bowl in hand, and headed for the door.

“Whatever… I’m goin’ back to my room.” He said, and something made me ask. “Bakugou…?” I called out, and he stopped to turn and look back at me.

“How did you know I was having a panic attack… I mean- how did you know how to handle it?” I asked, and his eyes widened momentarily before his brow creased in its usual pissed off manner.

“What the hell kinda question is that, dumbass!” He huffed before throwing the door open and storming out before shutting it behind him. I blinked a few times before sighing and shaking my head. I’ll never understand how this guy’s brain works… but maybe that’s for the best. I sat at the desk with the bowl of soup in front of me, and sighed as I picked at it with my chopsticks. The noodles were mush at this point, and the broth was surely cold. I pushed the bowl away, and stepped towards the bed. After moving my laptop and the clothes aside, I curled myself up on the comforter with my head resting against the plush pillow, and felt my eyelids growing heavier by the second. After a few deep breaths, I felt my body relax into the mattress, and sleep finally found me.

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #reader insert #bakugou x y/n #izuku midoriya

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tatertotthethot · 4 years

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

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