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redhoodedangel · 3 years

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Scars that Last (Arkham!Jason Todd X Scarlet Witch! Reader) {Route A} Pt.2-Loss

So, there is going to different routes like I mentioned in the first part (and an edit I did on the first part). This is the first part of Route A and I’m working on Route B as well. When I finish it, I’ll put a link to it on this post.

⚠️ Warning ⚠️: themes of death, abuse, torture, sadness, heartache/heartbreak, nightmares, and mental health and mental illness

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even after your failed attempt to mentally track down Jason, you continued to build up your mental powers to find some way to find him and bring him home safe. The search on the GCPD's part was coming up dry and Batman's own search was even drier than the Sahara Desert. Barbara was even joining in on the search with both sides as Batgirl, in hopes of increasing efforts and results. Hell, even Nightwing was checking the borders of Gotham for activity. But, nothing was coming up. No developments…no leads… no evidence… no sightings…

Nothing…

Your own attempts with numerous types with mental stimulation and manipulation were fruitless, too. You tried tapping into your mental response to pain, hoping it would help you better access Jason's memories and figure out his location. But all it did was make the pain that the Joker was inflicted on him and in turn, you, more unbearable. Every try failed and you were beginning to lose hope. But you couldn't give up on your soulmate. He was counting on you and Batman...

You couldn't fail...

You couldn't risk losing Jason...

You couldn't risk losing someone so important to you...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whenever you had dreams, there were more like premonitions or visions. Events that had yet to happen or, better yet, were currently happening as you slept. Tonight’s premonition was the most terrifying one you’ve had in a long time. You had never felt more sick to your stomach before after seeing what you saw happening in front of you…

You were standing in a darkened room, a single light hanging in the middle. From what you could see, the floor was tiled black and white. Under the light was a young man, tied down to a wheelchair with barbed wire and rope. His hair was dark and his eyes were an ocean blue, his marked up skin matching yours. But, the most notable details was the fact that he was wearing the familiar red and black Robin suit.

Oh god…

It’s him…

It’s Jason…

You were about to try and call out to him to see if this dream was connecting your minds together. But, you were stopped by the sound of familiar maniac laughter. That son of a bitch…

“Well, well, well, my boy, you’re in for a treat, tonight!” The Joker announced, stepping out of the shadows behind Jason. The boy wonder visibly stiffened at the sound of the Clown’s voice, keeping his head down in fear and anger.

“Apparently, the Commissioner’s adopted daughter has been looking for her soulmate. One who she says is being ‘tormented’ and ‘mistreated’. The entire GCPD is looking for the poor lad. And strangely enough… the scars she has resemble the ones you have now…” Jason picked his head up at the news. Now, you knew that he knew about the soulmate bond between you two. Even if he didn’t know your name or what you looked like.

However, there was an aura of panic to him now. He was shaking and his eyes were glossed over, tears ready to spill out. As you come closer to him in this dreamscape of yours, you could hear his thoughts. He was crying… pleading… but not for his life… but for yours…

‘Oh god… no. Please, don’t touch her! Please don’t hurt her! Goddamn it, please!’

“Oh my goodness, what was the kid’s name? Was it… uh… (Y-…um... hold on... Aha! Now I remember!… (Y/N) (L/N)!” The psychotic clown said your name like it was some big event. It honestly made you want to throw up.

“What a wonderful surprise! Well, maybe I’ll leave her a nice little ‘Congratulations’ gift! Something she might appreciate!”

“I swear to God, if you hurt her, I’ll… Agh!” Jason’s protective growl was cut off by a pained yell as the Joker hit him in the jaw with a crowbar. You then feel the same pain on the left side of your face, creeping and burning under your skin.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t lay a hand on her! I’m sure you know how this song and dance goes…” the Joker rose the crowbar once again like a baseball bat, ready to land another hit.

“NO!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as the image winked out before you see what happened next. You then woke up in a cold sweat, with new scars and with more news about your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You told Batman and Barbara about your nightmare, giving them an idea of what the Joker have planned next. When you told your father, you had to exclude the fact that your soulmate was the second Robin, in order to keep the police from getting suspicious of the other Bat vigilantes. He then had the information used to triangulate possible locations where the Joker could be running his operations. Places where Jason could be being held...

However, about six months into the search, Batman found a new ward to take up the mantle of Robin. Needless to say, you weren't impressed with this decision, considering the current Robin, your future significant other, was still alive. The new scars that kept appearing on your body and face were proof of that. You refused to talk to this replacement Robin, no matter how much he tried to contact you for leads or any further information you didn't possess.

Nightwing had tried to explain Batman's choice and how the new boy wonder, a young detective named Tim Drake, had figured out their true identities. You still weren't persuaded, knowing full well that Batman could've compromised with him and had him man the comms or keep the Batcave on lock. But, that wasn't your call to make, nor Nightwing's or Batgirl's, so you didn't have a right to complain.

Meanwhile, you were building up your arsenal of mental tricks. You still hadn't found a way to connect to Jason without hurting yourself or him, but your experimenting gave you new ways to turn a villain or thug's mind against them. However, your search for a mental link between you and Jason still continued...

You just hoped he knew that you were trying to reach him...

"Please hang in there, Jase. I'll find a way to get you out of that hellhole if the law and the vigilantes fail... I'll make sure you get out of there alive... I promise..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another six months passed and it was now obvious to everyone who left the scars you were receiving. A 'J' marking was now burned into your left cheek, along with a few other scars that littered your face and body. Your bones creaked and ached with a dull pain that you had never experienced before. Your mental health was severely impacted, the pain of the scars was numbed because of it.

The search for Jason was practically a failure, as were your own attempts to mentally determine his location. However, you found a way to comb the entirety of Gotham for missing people. However, it was going to take a lot of trial and error in order to find Jason. You just hoped that you weren't too late...

You were standing on the roof of your apartment building, finding a spot to use your powers to find Jason. You were hoping that this would be the last effort to save him. You praying for it to work and stretch out around Gotham. You were about to cast the spell… when your phone vibrates…

Pulling out your phone, you saw that an unknown number was FaceTiming you. Your gut suddenly twisted into sickening knots, as if a part of you knew that this video call had to do with Jason. You knew this was something bad, but you had to know just how bad it was…

You had to know that he was okay…

That he was going to be okay...

You hit the green phone button and the call began streaming. The video showed Jason, sitting in a wooden chair and his arms and legs free. His face was marked with the same scars as yours, which was no surprise, but it still made your stomach lurch to see. But something was wrong with him... he wasn't fighting the Joker and using his silver tongue to hiss at the clown... he was still like a statue...

Oh god... that clown got to him... didn't he?

"Have you got something to tell the nice man, Jason?" The Clown Prince said from behind the camera. Hearing the Joker call your soulmate by his real name made the knots in your stomach grow tighter. Bile made its way to your throat, but you swallowed it in an attempt to calm your nerves.

"My name is Jason Todd..." the way Jason spoke was almost robotic and void of emotion. His face was blank and expressionless, a broken version of the spitfire boy wonder you were used to seeing and hearing about. His eyes... it was like looking into a shattered mirror on a stormy night...

"Who do you hate?" The question was simple... and so was the incoming answer...

"Batman..." Oh no...

"Excellent. Of course, you do. Do you have anything else to say?"

"Yes. I'm really sorry, (Y/N)... I failed you... as a hero and as your soulmate..."

'No...no... you didn't fail me... I wasn't fast enough... I broke my promise to you... please... please, don't let this be the end... God, please... I haven't even met you for real... I haven't gotten to know you...' your thoughts started running a mile a minute as your heart began throbbing in agony.

"Did you get that, Bats? (Y/N)? Kid's not yours anymore. He's mine... mine, mine, mine. To do with as I wish." Oh, how much you wanted to jump through your phone screen and strangle that horror movie antagonist reject.

"Hey. I never asked. What's the big secret? Who is the big, bad bat? His name. Tell me!"

'No... don't answer that, Jason... DON'T ANSWER THE QUESTION!'

"Of course, sir. It's-..."

BANG!

As soon as that dreaded sound hit your ears and the image of Jason hitting the floor after the Joker shot him filled your sight, you dropped your phone. You could hear the screen crack as it hit the cold ground, but you didn't bother to pick it up. The pain of your heart breaking into a million pieces was the only thing you could feel, minus the bitter wind blowing around you. Your senses all shut down, unable to take in your surroundings as you plummeted into endless nothing...

You lost him...

You lost Jason...

Your soulmate...

Your Robin...

Your hero...

Your everything...

After being silent for what felt like an eternity, you finally opened your mouth and a scream of despair pierced through the air. You then collapsed onto your knees and a red pulse of energy left you, creating a shockwave that you were sure all of Gotham could feel. Hell, at this point, the Gotham vigilantes probably knew where you were and what happened... no doubt they were probably on their way now...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barbara was the one to find you and bring you to the police station. You were wrapped in a blanket by Nightwing as you three, along with Tim, waited for Batman to arrive. Your father was out, handling a robbery somewhere downtown. Your cheeks were dry and no longer had tear tracks on them, as you had spent all your tears during and after your breakdown on the roof. Your eyes were still red and puffy, your eyes empty of any emotion. Your mind was now in denial, trying to make up a fantasy world for you to better ease the pain. But, nothing worked...

You heard footsteps approaching, moving your head slowly to see Batman walking to you and the other vigilantes. You felt a burning feeling in your chest as the urge to start yelling and shouting overwhelmed you. But, you held back... you wanted to hear whatever bullshit excuse he had before you raised holy hell...

"Batman, she saw the video, too. The Joker streamed it to her, live on FaceTime..." you heard Barbara whisper to the bruting Dark Knight.

"Let me talk to her..."

You then heard those familiar heavy footsteps come up to you, stopping next to you. You didn't even bother to look up at him... that's how angry you were with him... with every superhero in that room... with yourself...

"(Y/N), are you alright?"

Really? That was all he had to say? After everything that just happened here tonight? To Jason? To you?

"'Am I alright?'... 'Am I alright?!'... I've never been less alright in the entire sixteen years of my life! My soulmate, your sidekick- no, your son-, just died and you have the nerve to ask me that?! After your half-assed searches and giving Tim the Robin mantle, giving the Joker some fucking leverage to break Jason down further?! Meanwhile, I'm trying to find a way to use my powers to contact him or locate him and nothing I did worked! Then, finally, when I found a potential solution, a way to save him... that clown shoots him dead!"

More tears came pouring from your eyes as you collapsed into the Bat's chest, unable to keep yourself up with how much emotional pain you were in. Your whole body felt like it was made of lead and you couldn't get up. You couldn't do anything else but cry...

As a piece of you had just died hours ago...

#she wasn't ready #red hood #arkham knight #arkhamverse #jason todd x reader #jason peter todd #arkham knight x reader #reader insert #red hood x reader #the feeeeeeels #scarlet witch!reader #scarlet witch #x reader #marvel #angst #slight crossover

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alrightberries · 3 years

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“may i?”

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff & angst. ❈ word count: 8k

❈ summary: you’re the medic assigned to take care of captain levi as he heals from the explosion. you’re also the only person he tolerates.

alternatively: in which you create prosthetics for humanity’s most war torn soldier.

❈ trigger warnings: manga spoliers. profanity. mentions of violence, blood, gore, and death. mentions of sexual themes.

a/n: levi’s kinda ooc bc i couldn’t write the progress of his relationship with reader without making it longer than it already is. also this is medically inaccurate (re: healing time of broken bones and amputations) for the sake of the plot so pls no one throw hands.

Levi doesn't like looking at mirrors.

There was no tragic backstory behind his distaste for the reflective surface, no deeper meaning or hidden symbolism as one would expect from a man with his past. The reason behind it was simple: he just saw no reason to.

He wasn't vain, wasn't too concerned about his face, didn't care much to look at his physical appearance aside from when he had to cut his hair or get ready for the day to look presentable to his comrades. He knew he was attractive, and effortlessly so. The little letters and gifts he’d received from fans and admirers proved as much, and his title of “Humanity’s Strongest” only added to the appeal. Really, there was no reason for him to always be looking into a mirror.

But now... Levi simply couldn’t understand why that mindset had vanished. It was replaced with the fervor to always be staring at his own reflection— not out of vanity but out of disgust.

The disgust of staring at his mutilated face.

He warily lifts up the small mirror he held in his hand, features contorting into a grimace at the man staring back at him. Scars and cuts littered his cheeks— some deeper than others, but none as terrible as the long jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. It started from his forehead and ended at his bottom lip, held together by ugly black stitches the medics had hurriedly sewn on him the second he got back to the base. His right eye was split in half, completely useless, completely blind; held together by the same black stitches that donned the ugliest scar of all.

And Levi couldn’t help but think that this man was hideous.

He was hideous.

Levi reaches out with his right hand to touch his scars out of habit. He feels his heart tighten when he realizes there’s only air where his fingers should be and he nearly breaks the small mirror he held in his good hand from how hard he was squeezing it.

The mirror makes a gentle clink as he sets it down onto the mahogany of his desk. Bitterly, he stares at his three fingered right hand. His pointer and middle finger were gone, nothing but pathetic stumps protruding from his knuckles where they used to be. It was still covered in bandages and a makeshift brace so he wouldn’t strain himself when he moved, but he knew it was useless. He couldn’t move those stumps even if he tried.

He probably should’ve been thankful to have made it out of that explosion alive— not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. Though Hange had tried cheering him up (“Look on the bright side, we can wear matching eyepatches now!”) he simply couldn’t find it in himself to celebrate coming back so... useless.

His writing was as legible as chicken scratches. His right eye spasmed in pain every time he blinked. He couldn’t even try to relearn how to use the ODM gear with his new circumstance, and he mentally curses out his orders to stay put and heal.

Too many things were lost, too many people, too many lives.

All because of that damned explosion.

All because of that damned bearded bastard.

Levi is pulled from his thoughts when three soft knocks reverberate throughout his otherwise quiet office, and he rushes to put his eyepatch on and hide the mirror in his desk drawer. He attempts to sit in what he hopes was a seemingly ‘professional’ position but his stiffness gives away his discomfort.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

He feels himself release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding once he hears the voice. Your voice.

“Come in.”

The wooden door creaks open before it closes with a soft click, floorboards making minuscule sounds at the weight as you make your way to his desk. Levi pretends to look busy as his good eye scans the document he held in his hand.

The sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain grabs his attention.

“Brought you tea.” You murmured. “I figured it won’t be up to your standards again but I did try my best.”

Levi still doesn’t look up as you set the tray down on his desk, and his good hand reaches for the steaming cup to take a small sip. His eye twitches at the taste.

“If you were going to bring me shit tea anyway then why bother.”

He hears a gentle chuckle but doesn’t see the way you smile at his contradictory words and actions. He made no move to throw the “shit tea” away, something he was infamous for with teas that didn’t meet his standards. Instead, he keeps sipping, gently placing the cup down onto his table once he finished.

“I thought that maybe distracting you with terrible tea would keep your mind off me changing your bandages.” You explained, and Levi nods but doesn’t speak. When silence once again filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional crumple of documents you knew he wasn’t reading, you take it as your cue to pick up your pen and clipboard to start the checkup.

“Have you felt any discomfort or pain in any of your extremities such as your right eye or your right hand?”

“No.”

“Have you felt any throbbing or other sensations in any part of your body?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any fevers, headaches, dizziness, or sudden spasms in any part of your body?”

“No.”

He hears you set your clipboard down and his skin tingles from your doubtful stare. He didn’t have to look to know it was there. He risks a glimpse at the papers attached to the wooden board in your hands but just as he expected, you didn’t write down any of his answers.

“Have you lied to any or all of the questions I’ve asked during your routine checkup for today?”

“...yes.”

A soft sigh escape through your nose and your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Captain, lying to your medic won’t get you to the battlefield faster. You’re of no use to anyone when you’re injured.”

Levi clicks his tongue at your reply but he holds his smart ass comments back. He knew you were right, and it infuriated him so much.

“Fine,” he grits out. “My right eye’s been twitching all day. The fucking stumps on my right hand don’t feel like stumps. It feels like I still have fingers there, and I know it’s complete bullshit since they were lying next to my face when they got blown off.”

His angry glance finally lands on you. “That the answer you were looking for, oh medic of mine?”

It was now your turn to click your tongue. “Not quite,” you mumble, writing down his answers onto the file in your hands. “Feeling your missing limbs even after they’re amputated is normal. It’s called phantom touch.”

You place the clipboard back onto his desk and reach into your pockets, pulling out pristine white gloves before gingerly putting them on.

“Your right eye still spasming though, that’s concerning.” You add. Your hands slowly reach out to his face, and Levi momentarily flinches away out of habit. But you made no move to touch him.

He eyes you warily, tense muscles relaxing even just the slightest as he sees your gentle stare.

“May I?” You ask softly, a caring smile on your face.

Levi only nods, not trusting his words, and he once again tenses up as he feels your hands unbuckle the leather straps of his eyepatch before setting it down onto his table. He keeps his bad eye shut.

Your hands are gentle as you touch his face, touch nothing but a soft caress in such a way that his tender stitches felt no pain. Your eyes are focused on his stitches, lacking any judgement or ill will, and Levi’s suddenly aware of how close you actually were to his face.

Your eyes were beautiful, he noticed. They always were. The little furrow in your eyebrows as you concentrated was cute, and the soft caress of your hands on his cheeks as you inspected his face felt... nice, and dare he even say relaxing. Momentarily, when he finally lets himself adjust to the atmosphere, he lets his tense muscles ease.

“Can you open your right eye, Levi?”

“Y-yeah.”

FUCK.

What the fuck.

Did he just fucking stutter?

Levi’s surprise is only painted on his face for a few mere seconds before he schools his expression back to one of stoicness and neutrality, and he prays to all the existing gods he knew of that you wouldn’t notice.

He risks another glance at you. One of your eyebrows is arched and the corner of your lip is quirked up in a small smirk, but you dared not comment on the captain’s speech mishap.

Fuck. So you did notice.

Before he could try to save face by dishing out some bullshit reprimand of being disrespectful for calling him by his name and not his title, the words die on his tongue as you lean in impossibly close and oh god your noses were almost touching, your eyes are even more beautiful up close, and what the fuck is—

“Captain,” you repeat. “Can you open your right eye please?”

Oh, right.

He doesn’t speak as he does what he was told. He feels his eye open but no vision comes to his senses.

“It’s looking... not so good.” He hears you mumble, face contorted into one of concern. “It’s actually looking pretty bad.”

Levi scoffs. “Not one to beat around the bush, are you.”

You roll your eyes, the small smile once again returning to your lips.

“How long have you been keeping the eyepatch on?” You ask. Your hands are holding his head in place now, grasp a little more firm but not enough to hurt.

“An hour at most.”

“Are you lying again?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

You nod but made no further comment, leaning back to grab the clipboard once more to write down your observations.

“So,” you start. “Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to poke your bad eye?”

Levi’s lips turn into a frown at the notion. “I’ve kept it on the entire day. And I know you’re probably lying about poking my eye, but in case you’re not, no. I do not want you poking my eye.”

You nod your head again, writing more things down onto your little clipboard.

“You should let it breathe. Keep it on for an hour or two at most but take it off when you sleep. Too much friction with the eyepatch might cause irritation.”

As the consultation draws on, Levi tries (keyword: tries) to be as honest as he could. Not that he could be dishonest when you were so good at snooping out his lies, though. You were already used to his stubbornness.

He wasn’t lying, however, when he tells himself that his heartbeat did not speed up when your hands gently held his own as you changed his bandages and cleaned his amputation; he wasn’t lying when he tells himself that the tips of his ears were not burning a bright red, cheeks flushed as you asked him to take off his shirt; and he definitely wasn’t lying when he tells himself that his dick did not twitch in his pants when your hands caressed his abdomen and back, accidentally hitting sweet spots he didn’t even know existed, to inspect his still purple bruises and healing ribs.

Yeah, he definitely was not lying.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” You say cheerfully. “I’ll be back same time tomorrow for another checkup.”

He glances up as he finishes buttoning the last buttons on his shirt. The gloves from your hands are taken off and tucked back into your pockets, and you hand him a small vial full of pills.

“Take one of these, twice a day at most, whenever you feel pain in your right eye.”

“I’m not feeling any—“

“Sure you’re not.” You cut him off with a smile. “I believe you. But feel free to contact me for any pain or discomfort you feel at any time of the day. I’ll be more than glad to find you.”

Levi says nothing, opting to instead stare at you as you gather the now empty teacup and kettle, placing them back onto the tray along with your clipboard and pen.

“Oh, by the way.” You speak, walking towards the door and opening it. You don’t spare him another glance as you finish your sentence. “I don’t think I can prescribe any pills to lessen blood flow to your dick.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and Levi’s momentarily mortified as he processes your words. He risks yet another glance, this time down to his lap.

Shit, he thinks before he sighs. His hands readjust the hard-on in his pants.

Nothing goes past your observant eyes.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi doesn’t bother to look busy like he did last week, you noticed, because this time he was actually busy. Which was odd considering he was taken off paperwork duty until he could write again.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, setting the tray down onto his desk and pouring him a cup of tea. Your eyes curiously glance at the papers scattered about his usually clean desk, each filled with indiscernible writings of his name.

“Trying to write. I’m useless until I can.” He mumbles before he scoffs. “This would be easier if I had all my fingers.”

You nod along to his replies yet made no move to stop him. You picked up your pen and clipboard to write things down as well.

“You’re not supposed to be using your right hand, your amputation is still too tender.”

“Tch, what do you expect me to do then?”

“Uh... use your non-injured, complete left hand?”

Levi blinks at your words, and he has half a mind to slap his forehead for being dumb and not thinking of that. Which he undoubtedly would’ve done had you not pushed the steaming cup of tea closer to his sitting form.

“Have some tea. You look like you’re about to pop a vein.”

Your smart remark is met with silence and a steely glare, and surprisingly, as Levi drank the tea you prepared, he notices it’s not downright terrible.

“Your brew’s better.”

“Yeah. I finally took your advice of using a thermometer to get ‘the perfect temperature’ after you complained about my ‘shitty tea’ for the nth time that week.”

Levi hides his little smirk behind the teacup, silently reveling in his small triumph before setting it down. From the corner of his eye, he notices you eyeing something, and his heart drops as his gaze follows your own.

The mirror. He forgot to hide the mirror.

Discreetly (or as discreet as he could) he takes the mirror and shoves it back into his desk drawer. You had many questions, that much he knew, but he was thankful when you didn’t push it further.

“Shall we begin?” You ask instead.

“Yeah.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi’s been trying to write again, you surmised, as you glanced at his focused eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders. Scattered papers still littered his desk and he was still trying to write his name. This time though, you were relieved when you saw he was using his left hand.

“Finally took my advice?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Regretting it.” He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers, something you noticed he always did. “It’s been three days since I took your advice and my handwriting’s shittier than it was then.”

You smile, hand reaching out to hold his incomplete one that was clenched into a fist on the desk. He immediately stops writing, opting to instead stare at your hand atop his before glancing up at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you relax. You might tear your stitches.”

He feels you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of your hand is suddenly gone from his own. You reach for the cup of tea you prepared, and he wills his cheeks to not show his blush at the small gesture. You slide the teacup across the table.

“What makes you think holding my hand will make me relax?” He asks snarkily. He reaches for the tea with his good hand.

“Are you relaxed?”

Levi ponders the question in his mind, noticing how his muscles were no longer tense, his shoulders were now slumped down, and his eyebrows were no longer scrunched. He sips the tea.

“Your brew’s still shit.” He replies instead.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I came here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Your head peaks out from behind his door as you enter, closing it with your foot and making your way to his desk. You were no longer surprised when you saw him still writing and scribbling messily at his desk as he’s done for days now, and you discreetly eye the papers as you pour him his tea.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me tea.” He comments, still focused on writing.

“I know.” You reply. “But how am I going to perfect your brew if I don’t practice?”

Levi glances up, and he raises his eyebrow as he sees you sat on his table, a cheeky grin on your face. He makes no move to scold you for being so casual in his office and instead reaches out to take a sip of the tea. He notices your expectant eyes, the grin on your face widening as he nods in approval.

“Your tea’s not bad today.”

“Really?! You think it’s good?”

“I said not bad, I didn’t say it was good.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

The first thing you noticed as you entered Levi’s office was, of course, the scattered paper around his desk, face focused as he continued to practice his writing. The second thing you noticed was that he was no longer using his left hand.

“It’s barely been two weeks. Did you give up already?” You ask as you pour his tea.

“I write better with my right hand.” He simply replies, not even glancing up as you slide him the beverage. He uses his good hand to reach out for the cup, silently preparing his tongue for another unpleasant attack.

He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up from surprise. The tea was... delicious, absolutely delicious, and Levi couldn’t find anything to complain about. The temperature was right, it wasn’t too bitter but wasn’t too sweet, and the aroma was delectable. He takes a sip once more to double check if his taste buds were deceiving him, but the second sip was just as good as the last.

His suspicious eye makes contact with yours, a shit eating grin painted on your face as you eagerly awaited his feedback. The porcelain makes a sound as he sets it down.

“You bought this from the tea shop across the barracks. That’s cheating.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Three soft knocks reverberate through the door to Levi’s office. The captain hastily hides the papers with your name scribbled on, shoving them inside his desk drawer. A shiny glint catches his eye before he could close the shelf and he pauses as he realizes it was his mirror. He hadn’t taken it out in a while. He was always too distracted with criticizing your piss poor tea to even think about his appearance.

“Name and business.” He calls out, still eyeing the shiny object.

“Hange Zoe. Y/N asked me to do your daily checkup.”

Levi's eyes widened, heartbeat stopping for a second as he heard Hange’s voice. Where were you?

“Come in.” He closes the drawer as the door opens and Hange walks in.

Levi couldn’t help but notice that he was becoming uncomfortable the closer his friend got; skin prickling, hands sweating, his collar feeling a little too tight. Little by little getting more conscious of himself as Hange walked closer.

Was this what insecurity felt like?

He briefly wonders why he didn’t feel it with you, but his mind answers him with a simple fact: you were the only person who’s seen him mangled and bruised, and each time, you showed nothing but gentleness and care. Yet even with this knowledge, the notion that a person other than you would be doing his checkup today didn’t sit right with him.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, telling himself to remain objective. But it didn’t stop him from subconsciously adjusting his eyepatch and hiding his incomplete hand underneath the desk. He eyes the tray in Hange’s hands, spotting the kettle and teacup.

“I don’t want your shitty tea.”

Hange doesn’t look up as they pour him a cup, humming a tune Levi doesn’t recognize as they hand him the warm beverage.

“It’s not my shitty tea.” They reply. “It’s Y/N’s shitty tea. They made you a batch before they left for the mission.”

Levi’s good hand pauses for a brief second as he reaches for the cup, mind still processing the fact that Hange said Y/N and mission. You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and since he wasn’t allowed paperwork duty until he could write legibly, he wasn’t aware of any missions.

“I see.” He takes a sip, and he immediately squints his eyes in doubt once his tongue caught taste of the flavor. “This isn’t Y/N’s tea.”

Hange looks up from the clipboard they were writing on, eyebrows are arched in curiosity. “What?”

“This isn’t Y/N’s tea. This is from the tea shop down the road.”

Hange’s confused face stays still for a few seconds, silently assessing whether Levi was being serious or not. A smile cracks on their face, turning into a grin as small chuckles left their lips, before finally turning into full blown laughter. The captain waits for the eccentric soldier to stop cackling and start explaining, but Hange’s answer only serves to confuse him more.

“Nice try, shorty. You crack me up.”

Levi ignores the remark about his height. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N owns the tea shop down the road. Made the recipe for the black tea you love so much, even.”

The captain’s good eye twitches, and if Hange notices, they don't comment. Levi takes a sip of the tea once more, a little more doubtful this time, before sighing in content as the drink makes its way down his throat.

“Why did Y/N go on the mission? I thought they were to be my caretaker until further notice.” He chooses to ask, placing the cup down and pretending to busy himself as he absentmindedly starts practicing his writing.

“Y/N is our topic medic, their skills are more valuable on the battlefield than in an office with you.” They reply, and the captain pretends that the truthfulness of the statement doesn’t sting the slightest.

“Besides,” Hange pulls out white gloves from their pockets, sliding the cloth over their hands to prepare for the checkup. “Y/N personally asked to be reassigned.”

Levi sputters and chokes on his tea at the sudden revelation, and he feels Hange’s hand patting his back as he tries to compose himself. You asked to be reassigned? But why?

“Why?” He manages to choke out before once more descending into a coughing fit. Hange silently hands him a napkin.

“They didn’t say.”

Perhaps you were done with his incessant criticizing of your tea making skills (if so, then why’d you keep brewing him a crappy batch? Clearly you could’ve made good tea whenever you wanted.) Perhaps you grew tired of watching over him everyday when you could’ve been attending to more injured soldiers in the medical wing or the battlefield. Or perhaps you felt a little cooped up in the office with him, hating that you were confined when you could’ve gone on missions to help the wounded.

Whatever your reason may be, Levi finally gets himself to stop coughing and wipes his mouth. Any questions he had, he would ask you. For now, he pushes his feelings to the back of his mind to ask a more important question.

“Why are you here and not on the expedition, Commander?”

Hange shrugs.

“I wanted to bond over eyepatches with you.”

Levi was trying, okay? He was really trying.

But god, the new caretaker assigned to him was nothing short of a complete and utter noob. His bandages were always either too loose or too tight, his touches every time he tried to inspect Levi’s scars were always an ironclad grip, and worst of all, his tea was pure and utter shit.

“Watch it!” Levi barks, and his caretaker jumps about two feet away from him at his yell. “What’re you trying to do?! Are you inspecting my broken ribs or trying to give me a broken rib?”

Oh, that too. His caretaker was the hands on type, something Levi wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that his caretaker was also heavy-handed, and Levi had had enough of this bullshit.

“Stop it, just stop. Get out of my office, right now, and find me a new caretaker.”

“B-but, Captain, there’s no one else who can—“

His caretaker is cut off when he makes eye contact with the enraged captain. Levi’s eyebrows were knitted together in anger, and the glare on his left eye was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that he only had one good eye left did nothing to lessen the intimidation of his glare; if anything, it made it even more intimidating.

“I will not repeat my order. Go.”

The boy in front of him nods nervously, head bowed down and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as he quickly scurries out of the room. Once Levi hears the soft click of the door shutting, he takes a deep breath and lets his body slump into his chair.

That was the fifth caretaker he’d kicked out this month. He wasn’t picky, he tells himself; he just had standards. Standards that apparently these damned amateurs they kept sending him couldn’t meet.

Briefly, his conscience contradicts him; the image of a certain top medic popping in his mind, one that he hadn’t spoken to in almost a month since they dropped him out of the blue. Maybe, just maybe, he was being picky. With a dash of passive aggressive and a sprinkle of butthurt. But Levi quickly brushes that thought aside when he remembers the incompetence of all his recent caretakers.

That was definitely it. He wasn’t petty, all his caretakers were simply idiots.

The captain hears three loud knocks on his wooden door, and he grits his teeth as he mentally prepares himself for whatever fuckery the clown caretaker they assigned to him was about to do this time. True to his words, Levi did end up breaking a rib from how heavy handed the last one was, and though he knew it was partially because his body was still quite fragile, it didn’t hurt his request for a new medic.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here to do your daily checkup.”

Levi feels his eyes widen and heart speed up, and he once again rushes to hide all the papers scribbled with your name as he shoves them into his desk drawer. He composes himself, trying to appear uninterested and professional as he speaks.

“Come in.”

The door squeaks open and Levi doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes soften and his shoulders slump in relief as he sees the familiar sight of you. A soft smile dawned on your face as you gently kicked the door close, walking towards his desk and setting down the tray you held in your hands.

“Heard you fired everybody who came after me.” You mused, eyes teasing as you poured him a cup of tea. He didn’t think he’d miss someone pouring him a cup of tea as much as he did now.

“Their tea was shit.” He replies, taking a sip of the warm beverage and holding back his sputter at the god awful taste. “Yours is too.”

You chuckle, picking up the clipboard and pen to start writing for today’s checkup. “Can’t help that I suck at brewing tea.”

“You don’t have to keep making me shit tea anymore. The secret’s out.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before you nervously clear your throat. Levi definitely noticed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you own the tea shop, Y/N. Stop lying.”

You let out an irritated sigh. “Hange told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the ‘p’.

I’m going to fucking kill Hange, you think to yourself, silently gathering your composure once more. Levi watches you intently, continuing to sip on the terrible tea before deciding that he’d assaulted his taste buds enough and placing it down.

“Why’d you do it?” You hear him ask. “And don’t lie to me. You’re not the only one who’s gotten better at spotting lies.”

Why’d you brew shitty him tea? Is he that affected by it?

Your reply was already on the tip of your tongue, head glancing up from your clipboard to say your answer. But your words don’t come out and your mind suddenly cleared when you saw the look in his eye.

Levi’s eyes were nothing short of gorgeous; a beautiful gunmetal gray with a gaze deadly enough to kill a man with one mere look. But right now, even though they were schooled into his usual look of disinterest, you could see him... wavering. A mix of unanswered questions, curiosity, and— for the briefest second you swore you saw— hurt.

“I take it you’re not asking me why I brewed you crappy tea for the past three months?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “No, you idiot. I’m asking you why you left out of the blue. If you had a problem you could’ve brought it up with me—“

“No!” You quickly interrupt. “No, god no, you’re perfect.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and you suddenly realize the words you’d spoken as you quickly try to explain before Levi could interject.

“There was no problem, okay? I didn’t request to be reassigned because I had a problem. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur.

He eyes you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I have a solution. May I?” You gesture, asking if you could sit on his desk. Levi nods, not understanding why you needed permission now when you’ve done it of your own volition countless times before, but he suddenly understands when you sit directly in front him and not across from him like you usually would.

He watches as you pull a small brown box from your jacket, placing it down onto his desk before opening it. Levi is quiet as he eyes the item inside.

“It’s just a prototype for now. I was hoping to carve out a better one in my free time, one that would be a custom fit, but my free time kinda went flying out the window when you started firing people left and right until no one would accept you but me.”

You pick up the wooden prosthetic fingers and gently place them onto his desk. Your hand opens palm up, waiting for Levi to be comfortable enough to lend his hand to you, and he does so silently.

“The prosthetic’s made from redwood and the joints are connected by small metal rods. It’s light and durable, and I weatherproofed it so it wouldn’t break down so easily when you use them.” You explain, unwrapping the bandages around his hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out the concept, actually. I just took a pair of standard issue Survey Corps gloves and cut out all the fingers. Then, y’know, attached the wooden fingers to where the pointer and middle should be.”

Levi could only nod. You weren’t sure if his silence was good or bad and you couldn’t read his look. But Levi— Levi was speechless. In his mind, he dared not speak in fear of looking like a fool. Especially not in front of the person who gave back a piece of himself (quite literally, at that.)

He tenderly looks at the way you fitted the prosthetics onto his own hand, fastening brown leather straps around his wrists to secure the glove. The minute the glove is on and he sees all five fingers for the first time since the explosion, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I had Hange help me with the anatomy so you could still bend them as you would normal fingers. I couldn’t figure out how to make them move on their own though, so you’d have to manually do that yourself.”

To demonstrate, you bend one of the prosthetics, the wood imitating the bend of his finger but not springing back up despite his brain commanding it to do so. You watch intently as he fumbles around with his hand, moving the fingers about. The wonder and astonishment in his usually unimpressed eye didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it spurred you to continue on.

“Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to flick the switches on ODM gear. You still have to relearn how to hold your blades when you’re cleared for training again.” You say regrettably. “But it’s strong enough to hold a pen.”

Your hand reaches for the forgotten quill across his desk, dipping it in the inkwell before offering it to him with a small smile. Levi slowly takes it, still speechless, as he readjusts his prosthetic to hold the quill and write.

His writing is still shit, undoubtedly; still no better than chicken scratches as he messily writes down the words. But god, the sight of the indiscernible handwriting next to five fingers brought tears to his eyes as he finally finished writing his name. The slightly legible letters of ‘Levi Ackerman’ stared back at him.

Levi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He immediately set the quill down before standing up to engross you in a warm embrace. You tense in his arms, not used to Levi willingly initiating any form of physical touch at all. But as he tucks his head into the curve of your neck and his shoulders start shaking, splotches of wet dripping onto your collarbones, you feel your arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and let him cry in peace.

Your hands ran through his scalp, willing him to calm down. Though normally the sight of a crying Captain Levi was something you never thought you’d see, you couldn’t help but feel honored he chose to share this rare moment of vulnerability with you.

You let him cry, still holding onto him, giving him his time. Briefly, you wonder what he was thinking. What pushed him to tears? Did the captain ever let himself mourn his losses? Does he mourn his friends, his family, the little pieces of himself that he’d lost along the way?

Though you had a million questions in your mind you dared not pry as you continued to comfort the weeping man in front of you.

Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silent sniffles and your sweet words, Levi finds it in himself to finally speak.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Night had fallen around the base, encasing the world in darkness that beckons slumber. Levi continued to stay awake, still in his office, staring at the prosthetic you had given him hours before.

Curiously, he feels himself form his right hand into a fist, not surprised that the two wooden fingers didn’t comply like the rest. It was imperfect and he himself thought it could use some tiny adjustments for the sake of comfort— something he definitely would bring up to you as requested.

And yet, despite knowing his ‘fingers’ were nothing but wood, leather and metal, he couldn’t help but think it was the best thing he could ever ask for.

Silently, under the lone glowing light of his oil lamp, Levi pulls out a blank sheet of paper and begins to turn his feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, and words into sentences as his quill meets the white surface.

Hours later, he finds himself in front of your quarters, a candle in his left hand while his right held a pristine white envelope. The envelope containing unsaid words, unspoken wishes, and hidden feelings.

Your eyes are sleepy when you answer the door, half lidded and hair a mess when his knocks had woken you from your slumber. You rub your eye, adjusting to the light as you stare at the person in front of you.

“Captain?” You ask, stifling a yawn. “What’re you doing here so late?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he opts to look at you with an unreadable expression as he asks, “Can I come in?”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, and the thought of you slamming the door on his face crossed Levi’s mind; but that didn’t happen. Rather, you nodded and ushered him inside your bedroom, closing the door behind him as you once again flopped onto your bed.

He places the candle down on your bedside table and now he was unsure what to do. He had a plan— or, he thought he had a plan— but awkwardly standing in your room in the middle of the night wasn’t part of it.

Quietly, you chuckle at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest looking so odd and out of place, unsure and slightly panicked. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to sit, and he complies.

Both of you had your knees pulled up to your chests and you were thankful when you noticed Levi had taken his shoes off before sitting on the bed. A comfortable silence encompasses the atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the close proximity.

From the corner of your eye, Levi looked like he was deep in thought. Not the kind you saw plenty of times in the battlefield or in strategy meetings, not the kind you saw when you entered his office as he hastily tried to hide his mirror. But the kind you saw when he quietly suffered through his own living hell.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. He shakes his head.

“Well, what brings the mighty Captain Levi to my humble little room?”

“Levi.”

“What?”

“Call me Levi.” He murmurs, downcast staring intently at the envelope on his lap. “In this room, I’m not your captain. I’m not your patient. I’m not Humanity’s Strongest.”

You feel your eyebrows scrunch as surprise and curiosity paint your face, but not because of the captain’s offer to call him so casually. No— the surprise you showed was because he unclasped the prosthetic you made, not even sparing it a second glance as he carelessly threw it to you, and you barely managed to catch the limbs you’d spent countless hours and sleepless nights to create.

“Levi, what are you—“

“But I’m not a broken teacup for you to fix either.” He says, eyeing the stumps on right hand. “I’m not a doll who’s missing some parts. I’m not a charity case accepting donations.”

You were looking at him now, head turned in his direction as he unclasps his eyepatch and lets it fall onto his lap. He raises his head, eyes making contact with yours.

“I’m just Levi.”

A few moments of silence pass but neither of you look away. The reason why the captain continued to stare wasn’t something you knew. But the reason why you never looked away was because of his eyes.

Levi’s eyes were still as gorgeous as you remembered them to be. Though his right eye was a different shade from his left, a lighter and paler shade of gray; though it lacked the light and emotions his unharmed eye bore; though it had a jagged scar running through it from where he was hit, you couldn’t help but think that his eyes were still the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

Gingerly, you lift up your hand to touch the right side of his face where his battle wounds lie, the prosthetic forgotten as it falls somewhere in the sheets. He doesn’t flinch like he did the first few times you did it, when you reached for his face during checkups to inspect his scars. But it didn’t stop you from asking.

“May I?”

Levi doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings your hand to rest on his cheek as his head leaned closer to your touch. His eyes closed momentarily, almost as if he were reveling in your warmth. But they opened once more, and you willed yourself not to get lost in the sea of gray.

“You were never a charity case to me, Levi. Or any of the things you just said.”

“Then what am I to you?”

Your heart stops, eyes widening ever so slightly at his question. Would you tell him? No, you couldn’t. Not when—

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to distract you from your thoughts. You realize the hand that held your own against his cheeks was his broken hand, his mutilated hand.

...would you really tell him?

You sigh, eyes finally leaving his. “You’re just another soldier who got hurt from a battle, asking a medic to take the pain away.”

Your hand slips out of his grip and goes back to your side, and you turn away from him once more.

“Are you lying?” He asks.

“No.”

“Then look into my eyes and tell me what I am to you.”

“I can’t.”

Your voice cracks ever so slightly, hesitant but determined to stick to your words. And Levi knew that he was never going to get an answer. He sighs, shoulders slumping down in defeat. It was now his turn to look away from you, gaze falling to his lap. The envelope holding the letter crinkles and he’s reminded why he’s here.

“I know.” He whispers back. “But do me a favor.”

He doesn’t look your way as he hands you the letter. He doesn’t look your way when you silently took it, eyeing the red wax seal that bore his initials, fingers tracing over the edges before—

“Don’t open it yet. Open it tomorrow morning before you come in for my checkup.”

You only nodded in response. You reached out, placing the envelope on your bedside table before once again sitting next to Levi. Just as you had started, a comfortable silence blankets the atmosphere. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the proximity.

But this time, it was he who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what the future holds.” He repeats. “I could die in action tomorrow and be one of the bodies they wheel back from war, or you could die trying to save someone in the battlefield. Even if neither of us die tomorrow, there’s always a possibility that we’ll die the day after that. And the day after that and the day after that. Such are the risks of our jobs.”

He takes a deep breath. “But tonight, I don’t want to focus on tomorrow. I don’t want to focus on what the future holds. I don’t want to focus on titans or enemy troops or looking after my team.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

Your eyes soften. “But what am I to you?”

You didn’t know what to expect, what his answer may be. But you know you didn’t expect it when Levi’s fingers gently grabbed your chin and coaxed your head to look in his direction. You didn’t expect it when you opened your eyes and met his, his warm palm resting on your cheek. And what you didn’t expect most was for his eyes to look at you with so much love, so much care and adoration. Gone were the facades of boredom and disinterest; the stoicness and detachment they always seemed to reflect. All there was left was softness, warmth, and what seemed to be the unmistakable swirls of vulnerability.

“You’re just another medic too busy putting other peoples’ lives before your own.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.” He whispers. “But you make me want to plan for a future I know we won’t have— a future we can’t have.”

And for the first time, you knew he meant it. You knew what he meant.

In your line of work full of death and violence and risks almost too big to take. In what you once thought was your little world, turning out to be too big for you to handle. In your personal brand of hell where tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and loss was the only constant— it was enough. This small moment was enough.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” You whispered, entranced. A soft chuckle leaves Levi’s lips, eyes turning into crescent moons so fitting of his gray orbs and your heart twitches at the sight and sound of his melodious laughter.

His thumb brushes over your cheek and your eyes meet his once again, the beautiful shades of gray staring you back. You didn’t know who did it first but at this point you didn’t care enough to find out because slowly, you both leaned in. Slowly, you both closed your eyes. And slowly, you both tilted your heads.

He pauses.

“May I?” Levi asks, lips merely inches away from yours. You nod.

“You may.”

And suddenly, the distance between your lips was no more.

There were no fireworks, no explosions in your heart or butterflies in your belly. There was no feeling of cloud nine, no feeling of want or need. There was only warmth in your chest, the feeling of a small fireplace crackling and glowing in the coldness of the night. The feeling of warm sheets and warm bodies cuddled up in an embrace.

Home.

The feeling of home.

Because that’s what you were to Levi, and what Levi was to you.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your routine checkup.”

“Come in.”

As the door opens and you set the tray down on his desk, hands gently holding the kettle to pour him his cup of tea, you noticed that Levi was still trying to write. But what caught your attention wasn’t the fact that it was no longer his name he tried to scribble, opting to write down complete sentences. What caught your attention was that he was wearing his prosthetics, and his eyepatch wasn’t on.

“Did you read the letter?” He asks. His hands were still writing and his eyes were still staring at the papers in front of him. But you could tell he was anxious.

“Yes.” You simply reply, and he nods.

“Good.”

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

#the bit where levi visits oc #is my favorite part to write #and the lil banter at the start too #i love banter but i also love sweet little words #this is proof that i can be romantic without calling someone a dumbass #writing #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk imagine #shingeki no kyojin imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan imagine #aot imagine

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insufferablelust · 3 years

Text

Little Butterfly I (Sugar Daddy Mob Boss!Spencer Reid x Reader AU)

Warnings: Part 1 of an ongoing series (that i hopefully won’t abandon), Upcoming heavy violence, Mafia and Crime related fic, Spencer is a soft dom but is dangerous, HEAVY SMUT, upcoming dark kinks (Gun,Knife,Bondage etc), daddy kink for sure, Manipulation kink, Degradation, Humiliation (yknow the drill with me) spoiling kink?, upcoming murders etc, heavy topic regarding mental illness, College legal age!Reader, Age gap, older!Spencer, Mean!Spencer, BDSM themed, Indication of Subspace, Just heavily dark smutty series (yet again lmao)

Hello, my wonderful readers, i want to thank you all for the patience you all have for this series, hopefully i can stick to schedule an update this once a week like Thrilled. This will be a new territory for me since all i know about mafia and such are from the movies and countless books my father has inherited me with, so i deeply apologize if there’re some mistakes, this is an AU that means its only a story and fantasy. If you are uncomfortable to violence and sex then PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. Thank you, and Happy Reading.

This series will set around the 80′s New York.

MASTERLIST HERE

There is no hiding from the absolute luxury you indulge in, in fact you love showing it to whoever might want to pry deep enough into your life. You caused no harm by it, and it certainly isn’t anybody’s business but yours and his.

The pair of arms around your waist is a certain remainder of who you belong to, and you loved it. He looked good tonight, almost too good with the suit adorning his perfection like an absolute genius adonis— your genius adonis. You feel your cheeks heats up slightly as he glanced at you, knowing just how shy you get around so many people— his little girl is sensitive after all.

Spencer Reid knows every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what makes you snap, what makes you bow in submission to him, and what makes you feel heavenly. He knows it all, he knows the way you trembled slightly whenever he wrapped his arms around your neck as he leaned down to kiss you, or how squirmy you get whenever he tug your hair, said your name calmly whilst shoving his fingers into your mouth— he knows everything.

—

It was a mutual agreement at first, living on 80’s New York has never been so stressful during your 20’s, all the student loans, the bartending you do sometimes, even the couple of scandalous photoshoots you sacrificed yourself doing to keep your bank account afloat. Your family never really cared much, and the only person that you truly have is Emily, your roommate.The whole ordeal was strange when you found out Emily’s ties to the mafia, being the daughter of one of the strongest mafia’s capo on America during that time. You wondered how on earth she has managed to doesn’t want to get on her father’s good side, and just except the riches that comes along with being a mob, but then again you were a stranger to it too...or so you thought.

The night she asked you to accompany her to meet her father and his boss, you shrugged and said yes, having nothing to do in the apartment other than wallowing in your own debts and sadness— you immediately agrees which put a smile on her cute face.

“I thought you didn’t want nothing to do with your father.” You asked as you raked through the closet to find something... ‘elegant’ but not too much, it’s going to be in a lavish restaurant after all. Your eyes darted to Emily’s who has been staring at her phone, smiling to whoever is texting her— you could only assumed it was one of her secret girlfriend-hookup for the week.

“Well i didn’t but money is tight, fucking inflation.” She looked up for once, lips hanging open at the sight of you standing there in a black dress, short with a slit on the thigh area— looking absolutely ravenous. “Holy fucking shit.” Emily whispered.

“What? is this enough? god i feel like such a prude.” You bit your lip as you await her comments, “You look fucking gorgeous you idiot, i mean are you sure you aren’t gay by any chance?” She laughed, which caused you to giggle, “I never said i’m not gay.. just that i’m not—

“Interested in dating, yeah yeah but we can at least fuck or something.” She jokingly raised her eyebrows as you throw your bra her way and laughed, “I just don’t want to get distracted em, especially that we live together.” You pouted before giving her a kiss on the cheek, which made her roll her eyes and smile.

Only if you knew what this meeting will entails.

—

The wine tasted exquisite on your tongue, the sweet burn of merlot was pleasant on the base of your throat which shocked you at first— maybe you should stop buying cheap wines, because the real ones are heavenly. You looked around nervously, it has been a long time since you’ve gone out to have dinner, let alone one as expensive as this.

“Stop looking like you’re about to die.” Emily whispers as she took the seat next to you, which you humorously giggle and swat her shoulder, “I’m not. It’s just.. new to me is all.” You nervously chuckled, before sipping on your wine some more. It was clear that her dad and his so called mob boss were late— which you rolled your eyes since Emily was basically rushing your make up, you just hoped that you looked decent enough, not that you want to impress anyone, its just good to feel like you’ve fit yourself to the occasion.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it.” Emily chuckled, before you could even process what she meant by that the sound of a soft elderly timbre rang through your ears, “Cara mia! Jesus, you’ve grown!” Emily slapped your thigh softly, gesturing for you to stand up.

Dear heaven, lord save your knees from buckling.

You watched as Emily greeted her father as you stood by her side, she kisses him on both cheeks as they made a small conversation that you pay no mind to since you were distracted, distracted by the pair of eyes that caught yours from the moment he walked in.

A soft yet stern eyes that held yours captive at this very moment, a presence that demands every single person for its attention, and intimidating like no other. A man, a finely sculpted man, standing in front of you in an attire that you were sure was more expensive than your whole closet, His soft looking curls marvelously falls fo his side, his plump lips were begging to be kissed— to be listened, to be heard, his tall lean figure towers over you which has you gulping down nervously— so much so that you failed to acknowledged the presence of Emily’s father calling your name.

“Y/N!” You let out a gasp before turning to shake Emily’s father’s hand, trying your best to smile as you glanced over the towering man, “So this is the Y/N i’ve heard so much about huh?” The old man snickered, looking gentle whilst maintaining a facade still. You giggled softly, “I hope there are all good things, nice to meet you Mr.Prentiss.”

“Oh please, Robert is fine. Oh Emily, Y/N this is don Reid.” He stepped back in.. what looks like an utter fear, you gasped as you realized that this is.. the mob boss Emily talked about, the masochistically handsome man you’ve been staring at— you thought a mafia boss would be someone older, but this is certainly not the case.

“Pleased to meet you both, Spencer Reid.” He extended his hand which Emily gladly took before she nudges your side whilst you were still gawking at the man, the soft yet deep timbre of his voice soothes and intimidate you at the same time, not to mention how he carries himself— practically saying he’s a god.

“Oh— um yes hello, pleased to meet you, i’m Y/N.” You bit your lip as you feel your cheeks hurt from the embarrassment, shaking his hand quickly— before you could even imagine pulling away, he gives you an amused chuckle and squeeze your hand tightly before releasing you.

“Well, let’s take a seat shall we?”

You are so fucking fucked.

“So, Y/N, Emily told me you’re majoring in art department, how’re you liking it?” Robert spoke as you eat your pasta slowly, trying not to show how you were trembling under the very same gaze that held you captive from the moment it arrives here. You gulped down a delicious bite of pancetta, before answering, “Oh i love it, always been my passion— well painting is, but i do love everything about art and literature.” You chuckled.

“I would love to see your art sometimes.” The voice could strangle you and you’d die happily, it really could— you glanced at the man whose been looking at you like a wolf to its prey, fingers skimming over the feet of the wine glass as a soft yet eloquent smile strikes over his face.

“Oh um, it’s not— it’s not that good, i wouldn’t want to waste your time.” You choked on your wine, feeling the burn on your throat as he let out a humorous-less laugh, shaking his head, before bringing his lean fingers to his lips. “Nothing is wasteful, not if it comes to such art like you.”

What?

“Huh?” You felt small, your cheeks heated at the reference as you tried so hard not to squirm and praised yourself by hearing what you thought you heard. Your eyes darted to his in a shy manner as he kept his composure well, licking the rim of his glass before sipping his wine gently.

“Anyways! dad, shall we talk a bit more private? i’m sure Y/N can keep the don company.” You gasped at Emily’s words, still barely grasping the previous encounter— the bottom of your heel jab at her left foot, as you glared at her, “Of course of course, don?” Robert spoke up, eyes lowering as his body turned to look at the smirking masterpiece that still stares at you with the same intensity.

“Go. We’ll be fine, won’t we angel?” You gulped down as much wine as you could without burning your throat before smiling nervously, eyes glancing back and forth to The Don and Emily.

“Y-Yes um sure.” You offered a gentle smile, even though your heels jabbed Emily’s which yet again resulted in her tiny laugh before she walks away to the back area of the restaurant.

The area was thick with intensity and glamorous lights, adding to the headache that already starts due to you being a lightweight around alcohol. Suddenly you realized, that you’re practically alone— with the don of the biggest mafia ring in America. “Go ahead and ask me the question.” He murmured sternly, causing your ears to perk at the sudden thrill that made your goosebumps rose and thrived under the shimmering lights.

“Pardon?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your dress as you tried so hard not to stare at the huge man, feeling as if you’re being cornered by a lion, and you his prey.

“Your cheeks are warm aren’t they? you keep biting your lips every time i muttered a word, you can’t even look at me because you know that the second you do, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Emily is right, you’re a pure little thing, its fucking cute really. If this table weren’t here separating us, you’d be across my lap already— for wearing something so slutty like that.” By the time he finishes taunting you, you stopped breathing, thigh squeezing against each other so tightly that you could feel how damp your panties are getting.

“Go ahead and ask, doll. Surely you can’t be dumb enough to think i would just allow anyone to meet me let alone a little college student like you.” His eyebrow lifted, as you nervous squirmed on your seat and breathed out.

“Why did you asked her to bring me?”

“Nicely. You know better, Y/N.”

“Sir...”

—

And the rest was history, the pair of arms around your waist tighten as the owner’s lips caress and nip at the very sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shudder and mewls. “mmh.. t-too early.” You complained, fully knowing that would only amuse him even more.

He chuckled as you had predicted, nimble fingers grazing up and down your front like feathers, delicately worshipping every inch of your skin. The blaring sound of New York’s traffic was prominent, but somehow that adds a thrilling aspect for you, months ago— you were picking up morning shifts by now, working your ass off just to gain enough cash to pay this month’s rent. But now, here you are, in the arms of the most feared yet young powerful don in the entirety of the mob community, Heck if everyone knows who he is and how much power he holds— they’d all fear him, but not you, not his fiery little butterfly.

“Shh, let me love on you a little.” Your heart warmed, familiar feeling of a thousand butterflies swarming on your belly caused your cheeks to warmed at the gesture. He said things like those often, though he made it perfectly clear that you were, you are only here for business arrangements, you knew he likes to toy over affection like this— one you aren’t supposed to get attached to. But how couldn’t you? when his hand so softly glides down the curve of your godly features, warm breath fanning across your skin from behind, whispering sweet words.

“Look so pretty for me, butterfly.” He whispered, causing you to yet again whimpers, hand clutching the sheets tightly as he moves down down down until he turned you over and settle between your legs, smiling at you. “If heaven is real, you’re definitely it.” He nipped and bit the exposed skin of your thighs, last night and the night before and before still there but like he said,

“If you agree to the terms, i’ll give you every damn thing you fucking want. Your bills, rents, loans, plus each and every single thing you wished to buy.”

“And in retur—“

“In return, you will be mine, mine to have whenever wherever i want, you won’t be my chained slave or nothing, but you’ll be mine.”

So marked you again and again he did, tearing your satin panties he did, panties that cost more than a week worth of luxury meal that he only grunted with “I’ll buy the whole fucking store, now shut up and let daddy eat his breakfast.”

You swore you’re in god’s heaven then and there, even if you aren’t sure that you believe in one, you can’t help but to think that this is some kind of miracle, your life is, here you have a perfect adonis, suckling on your clit as his fingers pump your delectable cunt in and out with such a fast pace that made you feel all floaty and flustered. The same man that commands the room whenever he walks in, the same man who pay all your bills, the same man who bought you a new lavish apartment and hands you gifts every damn day.

“Oh! oh please daddy right there..” You moaned out loud as your fingers latched onto his hair, softly tug on them as he moaned against your drippy cunt and suck your clit even harder,earning a particularly loud and lewd moan from you. “mmh! a-ah! i’m gonna—“ He held his finger up then, eyes finding yours as his mouth continues to work on your now sensitive clit. Spencer wasn’t too strict or nothing about your rules but if there’s two that he’s strict about is for you to cum only if he gives you permission— no matter the place or time, if he wants you to cum, you’ll cum— not that it’s hard, with someone as skilled as him.

When you begged and begged, he slapped your thigh only to grunt darkly, “If you can’t shut up and let daddy enjoys this, i’ll fucking take you on the balcony and fuck you for all Manhattan to see. Do you want that, Butterfly? want everyone to see what a filthy college girl you are getting fucked by someone as dangerous as me?” He slapped your cunt then, over and over again as you pant, and mewls.. Body jolts and pulsed at his ministration.

“You’re going to cum like this—“ He paused to spit directly onto your swollen clit, watching it wet the sensitive nub, “Going to cum with daddy slapping your greedy little cunt. Or you are not getting an orgasm.”

“Yes, daddy— oh!” True to his words, he spank you, over and over again, leaving you quivering and brokenly cried at the burning pleasure, “Cum princess, come on, you surely know how to thank daddy don’t you?” Your hole clenched around nothing as you arch your back and sobbed,

“Can’t— daddy please i-“

“You were so fucking desperate to cum, why not now huh? your sensitive cunt surely looks wrecked enough.” He scoffed before he spank your clit so hard you jumped at the sensation before he licked his fingers and caress your clit in fast fanning motion, not giving you enough time to even breathe as your cunt pulses and throb with overwhelming need of release, building up up up, up until you finally trembled and cum all over the bed— an orgasm so intense that you blacked out for few seconds straight.

“Shh.. shh good girl, that’s it— fuck you look so ethereal like this, butterfly.” He muses as he settle his head on your lap and admire your pulsing body, “T-Thank- y-you.. daddy.” You gathered all the strength you have left as he smiled proudly.

Your head laid on his chest as you both cuddle in silence, trying to enjoy the serenity and calm environment around you as the city below you buzzed all round. It was calming for awhile before his phone rang and you involuntarily sighs, “I know pretty girl, i know.” He muttered, before smiling apologetically- Not that he needs to.. Business arrangements, not like you’re his girlfriend or nothing.

love on you,

let me love on you,

You forced your fuzzy subby mind to get the thoughts out, as you watched his figure put on his robe, and leaned down, “I’ll be back later okay, don’t forget to check your phone.” He kissed your forehead for a bit, letting it linger as you held back your tears, wishing he could stay with you, you need your daddy, you really really do need him now. Feeling all small and fuzzy like this. But with the blaring noise of his ringtone, you knew the don has business to take care of and of course you’re not important enough to held such important task to be left.

So you smiled all nicely and kissed all the rings finger on his fingers before bidding a tiny whimper of, “Best of luck, don.” Your head bowed a little in respect as he noticed the true and true sadness flashed across your eyes, but paid it no mind as his other burner phone blared.

“Thank you, Butterfly. Get dressed soon, and i’ll have Morgan bringing you that sandwich from the deli you love so much. I’ll see you soon.”

Oh how nice would it be if this is your life, but life doesn’t always have a happy ending after all.

——

Comment or send me a message if you want to be added to this series taglist!

#spencer reid smut #littlebutterfly #mob!spencer #daddy!spencer #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #insufferableblurb

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hivequest · 3 years

Text

Taking a Risk » Mallek Adalov/Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, stressed out reader, chillboy Mallek. TYping quirk only used when texting cause I could not be bothered lmao Originally posted on AO3

A/N: One of my favorite things that I’ve written, ever. I love Mallek and he’s for sure one of my favorite Friendsim characters. When I wrote this I was really feeling those Quarantine Woes

You didn't know what you were doing here. You felt out of place in the worst possible ways. It was a weird, squidgy feeling like stepping on wet grass. But not like the fun kind where you were running around in a sprinkler on a hot-as-balls summer day. No, this was the bad kind of wet grass that you stepped on without knowing it was wet. Why weren't you wearing shoes?

This analogy is stupid. The point is, you're feeling bummed out.

And what better way to not have to deal with that than hang out with someone you knew wouldn't push you into talking about all the ways crashing on this planet sucked! The point is, you're on your way to see Mallek. Mallek is absolutely the kind of friend who can tell when you just need to sit down and veg out. You had been so caught up in everyone else's bullshit that you weren't looking after your own damn self. So now you were doing that.

All it took was a quick text, asking Mallek if he had any company. He texted back only a moment later with a no, obviously not. You asked him if he wanted any. Not really. You ask him if you can come over anyway. Obviously.

You smiled at the palmhusk in your, well, palm. You could already feel the chill vibes of your hacker friend. Friend? Was that the right word for it? You didn't know anymore. When you first met there were definitely some sparks there. You could still feel them now and it made weird butterflies flutter around in your stomach. When you slapped his phone out of his hand and he sent you ass over applecart into the slimy depths of sewer water and he saved you, tits out and all.

You shook off the weird wistful feeling of maybe possibly crossing the friendship barrier and told him you'd walk to his hive. You'd been moping in some bookhive, not your usual hang-out spot with Tagora or Tyzias. This was some upper caste bookhive with purple bloods and some indigos and definitely not where you were welcome if the looks you were getting were any indication. They ranged from snooty to downright murderous. Yeesh.

Your phone -palmhusk, stupid troll names- beeped again. You got another text from him and those cheery fucking butterflies were back. God, you had it bad.

yeah were not doing that lmao;

im not going to let my robobuddy walk out in the sun

do you even know what time of day it =

just stay put ive already got your location ill pick you up;

And like a good little friendsimp. You park your ass on a chair and wait. You hadn't released your moping had taken up most of the night. But with the quick look around, yeah, no, this place was nearly empty by now. Just some older bluebloods trying to cram before their Ordeals and get shipped off-planet. Again: Yeesh.

You kept your ears open for the telltale sound of Mallek's limo. It was a sound you were getting used to these days. He always seemed ready to drop whatever coding shit he was working on to come to see you. You tried not to think too hard on what that might mean. No need to get your hopes up now. It's probably just your bad mood making you imagine some context where there's nothing. Yeah.

Damn, that shit hurted.

Just as you were about to add that to the reasons you were considering just screaming your lungs out who cares whose listening? you heard the wonderfully familiar sound of an approaching elongated scuttlebuggy. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to who the ride was for the quiet of the bookhive was very abruptly disturbed by a series of rhythmic beeps.

Holy shit was that the Tetris theme?

You shoved your palmhusk into your hoodie pocket and yanked the hood over your head. Even if the sun was only out a little bit you didn't want it anywhere near your freshly healed skin. You had no kind cowgirl to nurse you back to health right now if you got your asscheeks baked by the flaming death orb. You peeked your head out and even with the blinding light of Alternia's suns you could Mallek had opened the door and was waiting for you.

Aw. No, shit. You're in a bad mood don't get all heart eyes at him. Don't make it weird.

You took a few steps back into the bookhive, ready to make a run for it. You turn to a sitting indigoblood, who is just staring at you disdainfully for keeping the door open. You give her a two-fingered salute. Godspeed young cosmonaut. She gives you a one-fingered salute. Close the door you insufferable bulgebiter. Fair.

Taking a running start, you book it out into the heat of the Alternian sun and dive for the open car door. It's then that you realize he's halfway parked on the sidewalk to lessen the amount of time you'd have to spend in the sun. Aw. That also means that you came barreling like a cannonball at something that was like two feet out of the door. FUck.

Your face meets carpet and you can already feel the rugburn starting to set in. You hear a startled wheezy laugh from above you, a sound you know better than anyone else on this planet. You smile. It's not like you had any dignity to begin with.

You say hello to him as you peel yourself off of the floor of his car.

"Hey, there robobuddy. You stuck the landing this time," He smiles down at you as he reaches over you to shut the door, closing the space out from natural light and leaving you both lit by his colorful LEDs. You shrug and tell him you've been getting a lot of practice landing on your face these days. The look he gives you is still smiling but there's some level of disbelief at the dumbassery that is your whole existence.

"I know you can get yourself into it. Nothing too bad this time, though, right? No drones or broken bones?" He sounds concerned which is nice but he doesn't drown you with his concern. He leans back on the bench of his limo, keeping an eye on you as the vehicle begins to move on its own. You've been staying out of big messes but the little messes are starting to mess with you. He makes a sound of understanding the sounds as it comes from deep in his chest. Whoa. "Believe me, I've been there. Glad you're not cracking under it though."

He smiles and you can see his little fang and you can feel your heart melt a little. And also you're getting a bit teary-eyed and now Mallek looks alarmed. Shit. You try to quickly explain that you're fine, just, alien allergies am I right? He must be using some new air freshener to mask the musty smell of his limo. Since doesn't use it enough. Ha ha?

He isn't buying it.

With a rare show of cerulean prowess, he lifts you up off of the shitty car rug and sets you on the seat beside him. He feels uncomfortable and you can tell. Ah, goddammit you made it weird. You didn't mean to. Fuck. Fuck now you're feeling even worse. You thought you were starting to balance out. You're with Mallek now, shouldn't everything start to quiet down like it always does? Fuck. He doesn't say anything at first, just leans back against the seat and stretches his arms across it, letting you lean on him if you choose to.

...You choose to.

Your head finds itself somewhere between his shoulder and his collarbone, and you just. Shove your face there. Then scream.

To his credit, Mallek doesn't even flinch. He doesn't wince or shy away from you as you let out every bit of anger, sadness, and frustration out against his sweater. He just sits quietly, staring straight at the blacked-out windshield. You get the feeling he's needed to do this more than once.

Screw this planet. Screw everything about it that makes all of your friends suffer. Why can't you just get them away from all this bullshit?! Why do you have to deal with everyone's bullshit! You love them, you do but holy fuck they're looking to you like you can undo all the damage this place has done to them when you've got literally no god damn idea what's happening at any point ever!

And then, just like that, it fades into the background. Your throat hurts. Your head hurts and you think you might be crying. But it feels lighter. Better now that you've gotten some of that aggression out. You aren't like the trolls on Alternia. You can't kill people when you experience an Emotion™. But that doesn't mean you don't get pent up with rage.

Mallek realizes that now. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and his left hand slowly moves down from the back of the seat the rest against your back. His thumb brushes against your back, the claw drawing little patterns against the fabric of your sweater. His sweater. He tries not to think his sign your chest. This isn't the time.

"Feeling any better?" He asks and you don't know how to answer. You kinda don't want to. But you nod anyways, and you feel some tension leave his body. You knew he was worried about you. You apologize for making him witness your meltdown but he just makes another deep-chested hum. "Nothing to apologize for. I got the feeling you weren't feeling great. I could tell from the texts, you didn't use nearly enough ugly emojis."

You scoff and smack a hand against his chest and once again you hear that wonderful laugh from him. Hey! Your purrbeast emojis are adorable, thank you very much! And you'll not hear another word of it or else you'll send him pictures of rocks and rocks exclusively. No more memes.

"Jokes on you I'm into that shit." You laugh and thump your head against his collarbone. You thank him for being with you when were needed it. And picking you up to make sure you didn't deal with it alone. You don't want to make it weird but...yeah.

He doesn't respond this time, just letting you both enjoy the silence and the comforting sound of the engine. You should almost be at Mallek's apartment by now. It's as you're settling in for the last bit of the drive that you notice that the limo isn't moving. And hasn't been for a while. Your head pops up in confusion and the little GPS display on the back of one of the seats says... yep.

You're already at Mallek's.

But then why is the engine still on? That can't be good for the environment. Do these things even run on gas or is it bugs? Bug gas? Gross.

You notice then that the rumbling is coming from behind you. Like. From where Mallek is sitting. He doesn't look away when you turn to him, just kind of tilting his head to the side with a little bit of a cerulean hue to his cheeks. Oh. Oh, the sound is coming from him. He's purring. That's.

That's adorable.

You feel yourself soften even more when he lifts his arms, silently offering a hug if you want it. Is this platonic? Is this more? You've never had too much trouble identifying what people wanted from you. (Debatable.) If was overtly flushed you could shut it down or divert it to something very much friends only. (Like your every exchange with Zebruh.) But did you even want to do that to your hackerman? You could feel yourself screaming, no, absolutely not. But at the same time, you didn't want things to change. You didn't want to make his issues any worse than they already were. He didn't have too much longer on the planet and you knew it would tear him apart.

But then he turned those blue eyes to you. He looked just as unsure as you were but he was willing to take the risk. He shoved himself so far out of his comfort zone for you and was asking you to be selfish. To want something for yourself and do something for yourself. Not put him or anyone else's wants first. Just your own. And so you did.

You crawled up into his lap, pressed yourself as close to him as you could and clung to him. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you and you could feel a shuddering breath from above you.

"We don't have to put a label on this... not yet. Or ever. Either way is chill with me. I just... yeah." He gave up with a little shrug of his shoulders but you knew what he meant. Unless you could find a way to fight fate he was going to go off-world. He was going to leave you and you doubted you'd be able to go with him. You'd probably get gored by a drone for even trying.

But even if it was just for now, just for a moment, you were going to take it. You were going to let yourself have something, have someone who would care for you no matter how long or short your time was. You'd take it. You had stomached some of the most horrible things on this planet but Mallek had always been a constant. And you got the feeling he thought the same way about you.

So, you'd take it. Whatever comes next, you'd take it. You listened to the sound of his purring, in no hurry to move to get inside the apartment. Mallek felt the same.

You exhaled.

You would be okay.

#homestuck #hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #mallek adalov #friendsim #homestuck imagines #hiveswap imagines #reader insert

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sazc94 · 3 years

Text

The Three Times James "Bucky" Barnes Broke your heart.

This was inspired by @msmarvelwrites 2k Writing Challenge because I'm a sucker for Taylor Swift especially sad Taylor Vibes. I chose the all too well lyrics.

Apparently, I can't do anything small so it's in two parts. Pairs Bucky x Reader and Pietro x Reader. (Not at the same time)

Part 1 Here

No smut but mentions of sex so 18+ Themes: highschool, cheating, college/uni. Friendship

Words 3368 it's Suburban AU.

2015 You finished up Uni staring in the school's production of Rock of Ages, Playing Sherry opposite Loki’s drew. Loki also moved to New York staying with his half brother Thor Oddinson. You stayed in touch with Loki and Pietro. The thing that took you by surprise however was six months after moving to Detroit, whilst working for Bruce Banner's start-up you received a DM on Instagram from Bucky. He heard from Sam and Jane that you were now living in Detroit and he was moving to the area after being scouted by the Detroit Lions. Hey Y/N, I hope you’re good. I know this is random and please feel free to tell me where to go, but I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink sometime? It would be great to see you again and catch up. Let me know. So you replied feeling like maybe after all this time it might be good to finally hear Bucky’s apology. Pietro and you had stayed in touch but you knew he was dating someone else. Her name was Sue Storm, she seemed like a nice girl, very smart and could easily give Pietro a run for his money. After hearing Bucky’s apology, you two started to become friends again, he invited you along to his games always offering to secure you two tickets if you wanted to bring someone. He was a machine on the football field, earning the strange nickname The Winter Soldier.

2016

Everything changed in the summer of 2016 though when Bucky’s mother passed away suddenly in June. She had practically helped raise you, so you attended the funeral with Bucky. You stayed with him in the guest room in his childhood house, helping him sort through belongings and paperwork. Bucky’s dad had died when you were 8 and Bucky like you was an only child. You took in food from neighbours wanting to pay their respects. You held his hand squeezing it in comfort during the funeral, assuring him you were there for him. Two days after the funeral you and Bucky had finished packing up the final boxes, you were upstairs, and he was downstairs being awfully quiet. You went looking for him only to find him sat on the living room floor. He was crying holding a picture of you and him one Halloween when you were 9, Bucky had gone as Superman and you as Supergirl. Your mums stood behind you, both of them chuckling whilst you and bucky tried to out pose one another. Your heart swelled. Your Grandad had died in November and god how your heart had ached, but to lose your mum, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. “Hey, hey. It's alright I’m here Buck”, you said cradling his head to your chest whilst he sobbed. You stayed like that for an unidentifiable amount of time before Bucky’s crying eased. He looked up at you blinking away the stray tears, the familiar blue in his eyes pulling you in. Your not sure who kissed who first but that was how you and Bucky ended up sleeping together.

You and Bucky officially got back together in July. Your Grandma passed away in September, the start of football season. Bucky was unable to attend the funeral, he tried god he tried. Pietro made it though. He and Sue had broken up not that he told you. By the time November rolled around things were good between you and Bucky. Wanda’s fashion label Scarlett Witch was taking off and she invited you and Bucky out to join the rest of the old gang at the official launch in December of 2016. You accepted and for the pair of you assuring Bucky, there would be no awkwardness. Pietro was casually dating and was bringing a date called Crystal.

You arrived at the party in NYC completely blown away. Wanda had asked you to wear a piece from the evening wear collection, a Black strapless dress, the top if form-fitting made from chiffon fabric, the skirt cut out the front made of black tulle sparkled with the touches of glitter. It felt like you were wearing the Milky Way. After stopping to pose for photos for the press you made your way inside. The party was being held inside a beautiful gothic building. “Y/n! You look absolutely amazing, thank you so much for wearing this and of course for coming” Wanda practically pounced on you the minute she spotted you. “Bunny! I agree absolutely amazing. Bucky, you don’t look too bad yourself” Pietro said kissing you on the cheek. Pietro was wearing a deep blue suit, it made his hair and ice-blue eyes pop. Bucky had opted for the simple black tux to match you and your dress. He almost looked good enough to eat. After grabbing a glass of champagne, Wanda and Pietro took you to the rest of the gang who had made it. Jane was here with a date, Thor Oddinson you recognised him from the few times he had been to see you and Loki in shows. Carol was here too. Peter Parker was working the event as a photographer he had brought a date a lovely young lady called Mary Jane Watson. After about 45 minutes of schmoozing and catching up, you went to the ladies room. When you exited you were a little taken aback by the sight that confronted you, a redhead was hanging of Bucky’s arm chuckling away with Thor and Jane. You could only see the back of her from where you were standing. You decided to walk over and introduce yourself. However, when you got closer to the group the woman started to look vaguely familiar.

“Hey babe,” Bucky said as you approached quickly removing his arm from the redhead. Babe. That was weird he never called you babe. His blue eyes looked like they were hiding something. “Lady Y/N. This is Lady Natasha” Thor said introducing you. The redhead turned to shake your hand smiling at you with a knowing look. “Lovely to finally meet the infamous Y/N,” she said. “I told Bucky how disappointed I was not to meet you when I was in the City in September. I’m so sorry to hear about the passing of your grandmother. Bucky kept me company whilst I was around on some Business” her voice sounded harmless, sweet and pleasant. Genuine. Her eyes and knowing smirk told a different story. Bucky looked at you, the familiar betrayal in his eyes, pleading with you. “I was just telling Bucky, I’ve been offered this amazing opportunity in Detroit so Ill be moving there in February, isn’t that wonderful?” she asked. You smiled taking a swig of your champagne. Jane looked at you, then Bucky. You shook your head.

That was the second time Bucky Barnes broke your heart. He assured you that they hadn’t slept together, however had admitted that he had kept her visit from you and that she had kissed him. “Did you kiss her back?” you asked pacing around your hotel room. “Doll, please what does it matter,” he asked reaching out for you. His calloused hands once again burning your skin with his betrayal. The fact he had chosen not to answer was all the confirmation you needed. You had left him in the hotel room. Loki had been unable to make the event due to being in a small play off-Broadway, but you had texted him asking if he wanted to get a drink. You had told him everything and he had walked you back to your hotel room. You were drunk and distressed. Bucky had opened the door his blue eyes flashing with jealousy when the handsome black-haired gentleman had his arms around you. “Easy James, if anything was going to have happened between us, it would have happened in freshman year of college,” Loki said helping you into your room. After you and Bucky returned to Detroit you guys took a break for a few months.

2017

Natasha’s job conveniently happened to be working as a fitness instructor at the Detroit Lions. After 4 months you and Bucky got back together in March of 2017. Things were going great, Natasha seemed to have released whatever hold she had on Bucky. Bucky was performing well with the Lions, his new teammate, Steve Rogers nicknamed Captain America seemed to have caught the eye of many ladies including Natasha. He however didn’t seem that interested in her and had his sights set on a girl from his home in Brooklyn her name was Peggy. Steve and you hit off due to your mutual disinterest in Miss Romanoff, he had come up with a nickname for her, he called her Black Widow because she seemed to devour the men in her life. Banners start-up tech company had taken off with thanks to your ad campaigns. You were also performing in the local summer show of Mamma Mia playing Sophie. In the summer of 17, Peggy Carter came to visit Steve, turned out she was from Britain originally. You liked Peggy and her no-nonsense approach. During July, the four of you went on lots of double dates like you were high schoolers again. For Steve’s birthday which happened to be the fourth of July, the four of you attended an event being put on by the Detroit lions. You had a great evening mixing with various teammates and their families. You even warmed to Natasha a bit that afternoon.

As the evening rolled around a giant cake was brought out to celebrate Steve’s birthday. Followed by a firework show. Everyone made their way to various blankets and cushions set out at the opposite end of the stadium. Somewhere along the way you and Bucky got separated. You didn’t worry too much, to begin with as you’d both drifted off to interact with various people throughout the event, however by the time the fireworks started Bucky was nowhere to be seen. You started to think the worst until you spotted Natasha’s red hair on the other side of the stadium flirting with a gaggle of players from various other teams who were invited. Confident Bucky would return shortly you turned your attention to the sky watching with a goofy grin, things were finally settled between you and Bucky. As the fireworks went on you decided to snap a few shots on your phone loving the way the sky lit up with bright colours. The Detroit Lions didn’t do things in small doses, so the firework display ended up going on for about an hour and a half. After about 45 minutes Bucky returned from wherever he had been slipping down behind you pulling your back flush to his chest. He stroked small circles on your arms. His rough calloused skin making you shiver from the contact.

In September you were approached by Tony Stark’s PA Pepper Potts, they had seen your campaigns for Bruce Banner and Tony was interested in headhunting you. Your contract with Bruce was up in October. You initially shot the idea down. Why would you want to leave Michigan? Your family home was a short 20-minute drive away, Bucky was doing well with the Lions. Peggy Carter was moving here after Steve had proposed at the end of Summer. It seemed ludicrous. After initially shooting down the offer. Pepper contacted you, doubling their initial offer. The offer was tempting, so you told Miss Potts you would think it over the weekend. There was no harm in bringing it up with Bucky, maybe a move would do you both good, Natasha seemed to have gotten under Bucky’s skin again. You left the office early that day. You didn’t bother to text Bucky figuring you could surprise him when he got home from training with a home-cooked meal. You stopped off to get some supplies to make Lasagne before heading over to his apartment figuring you could just let yourself in. You had called Wanda on the drive over through your cars Bluetooth. She and Vision were engaged, and she wanted you to be one of her bridesmaids. Partway through the call, Pietro had walked into Wanda’s office so you had told them both about the job offer. When you got to Bucky’s you immediately recognised the Black Widows black Mercedes. “huh, that’s weird, I wonder what she’s doing here,” you said out loud “who’s where?” asked Wanda. “oh um nothing, look I got to go I just got to Buck’s and I’m cooking dinner, going to talk to him about Tony’s offer,” you said before hanging up. You were so blind-sighted by Natasha’s car you didn’t clock Bucky’s Motorcycle parked in the corner of the small parking lot. You grabbed your bags walking up to Bucky’s figuring that you could invite Natasha in if need be whilst you waited for Buck to come home.

If you had noticed Bucky’s bike, then just maybe you would have been more prepared for the following events you unlocked Bucky’s apartment and you found clothes strewn everywhere, his jeans. A white Blouse. His boxer trunks. A Black lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you. At first, you were so shocked by what you saw that you didn’t hear the moans coming from the bedroom. It was like you were possessed you carried your bag of groceries as you walked in a daze to the bedroom, you opened the door and found Bucky once again cheating on you. He and Natasha were in the throws of fucking each other, you found Natasha with her back to you, wrapped around Bucky’s waist. Bucky sat upright facing you however his eyes closed whilst he drank in the pleasure. You felt your heartbreak as you dropped your bag of groceries. The bag made a thud as it hit the ground, alerting Bucky to your presence. His eyes flew open connecting with yours. Natasha however didn’t stop riding your boyfriend’s cock. Bucky tried to push her off him, but you were already storming out the door. You grabbed your bag and left Bucky’s spare key in the door. Bucky grabbed a pair of joggers and slippers before chasing after you. Bucky’s apartment was on the second floor. All the apartments on the second floor opened outside to a walkway.

“Really James?!?” you turned round to face him before he could even say your name. “Was once not enough? Did you not hurt me enough the first time?” You asked. You could feel the anger threatening to burst in the way of tears. Bucky went to speak, his blue eyes once again filled with guilt. “How long?!” you asked quietly. Bucky moved towards you tugging on your wrist. “Come on Y/N, come back inside it’s starting to rain, we can discuss this inside,” he said, his eyes pleading with you. At that moment Natasha appeared in Bucky’s open doorway. She looked pleased with herself, wearing Buck’s shirt. The site made you want to vomit. “How. Long?!” you asked again through gritted teeth. Bucky faltered. “Since July. Since the 4th of July event,” he admitted rubbing his hand over his face. At that moment you felt completely and utterly broken. “I’m done, James. Do you hear me? I am done. We are through. You two.” You pointed to Natasha. “You two are welcome to one another”. That was the third time Bucky broke your heart.

You took the job working for Stark Industries. Your contract had ended with Bruce but your lease on your apartment was up until January so you stayed working for him until December of 2017 You said your goodbyes to Steve and Peggy in January and moved across the country to your new life in the big apple.

December 2018

The unknown number flashed up on your phone for the third time that day. You sighed before answering it. “Hello, Y/N Speaking how can I help?” you asked fiddling with your jumper. “Hey Doll, it's me. Don’t hang up.” Your breath caught in your throat. James Buchanan Barnes. You hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. He hadn’t even attempted to reach out to you after you split up mailing your things back to you, well all but a scarf. In January shortly before you’d moved to NYC you’d seen a magazine article saying the Winter Soldier was dating Natasha Romanoff. It confirmed what you already knew deep down, which was that you might be okay but you were not fine at all.

You’d worked so hard to forget about him long enough to forget why you needed to. He had better have a damn good reason for calling you. “You have 5 minutes,” You said getting up from the sofa you were sat on. “look, I know I fucked up with you. In more than one way on more than one occasion. I think it was the pressure to be the perfect couple, you know lifelong friends to more. And well I guess I just freaked out, and then I fell for her, but she didn’t want me, and when you gave us another shot, I thought I could convince myself to love you the way I did her, the way you had loved me. But truth be told, it was always Natasha after that summer. I know you deserve better, and I truly am sorry for hurting your doll. But I wanted you to hear it from me before you read about it in the news. She’s pregnant and also, we’re getting married.” Bucky said. You stood in the middle of the apartment stunned. “So, you call me up again, just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest?” you whispered. Squeezing back the tears. “Well fuck you, James.” With that, you hung up. Of course, Bucky tried to ring right back, you declined the call, falling to your knees in pain. You had never asked for any of this, you had been quite happy being Bucky’s best girl as his friend. He was the one who kissed you at that prom.

You weren’t still in love with Bucky, you had moved on, forgetting about him and the pain he caused you. He hadn’t needed to call you, he could have given you a heads up through one of your mutual friends, but no. he had to go and stick the knife in. After lying there like a crumpled-up piece of paper and letting the tears fall. You picked yourself up. You washed your face and made yourself a mug of hot chocolate grabbing a Christmas cookie from the tin before making your way over to the bay window. You sat down taking in the view. The traffic had eased off a bit as things wound down for the evening. The snow had been falling pretty much all day. After about 15 minutes of sitting peacefully the key in the lock turned. You didn’t move you were incredibly content where you were, even if you could use a refill in the hot chocolate department.

“Hey handsome how was your day?” you asked not taking your eyes away from the street below. A group of kids were throwing snowballs at one another. You smiled to yourself enjoying their innocence. “It was good, busy” he replied taking off his coat and walking over to join you at the window seat. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “How about you Bunny? I saw a news alert. I’m guessing you know about the engagement?” he asked. You hummed a response. Before shuffling yourself around to face him. His floppy silver-blonde hair covering those beautiful ice blue eyes, they looked at you with such love and endearment, they also spoke a silent promise that he would never hurt you the way that Bucky had. You kissed him gently on the lips before standing up. “Come on Quicksilver let's shower before the Stark Christmas Gala,” you said pulling your boyfriend along behind you shooting him a knowing grin. His nickname may be Quicksilver for athletic reasons but there were some things he liked to take his time with.

A/N If you stuck with me through all this, I am truly sorry. I'm gonna go cry

Tagging the bestie @lannycleave

#bucky x reader #pietro x reader #avengers au #marvel #marvel au #avengers fanfiction #𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬𝟐𝐤 #bucky barnes fluff #pietro #pietro fluff #bucky barnes #pietro fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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IOTA Reviews: Guiltrip

So, my week has been hell. In addition to working night and day on final essays for my classes, I've been really busy at work lately, and the second COVID vaccine shot really took a lot out of me this week. And that's not even getting into the bureaucratic nonsense that comes with applying for the MTEL which is slowly making me wonder if I actually want to teach in the first place.

But, despite all that, there was a single light of hope this week that almost made it all worth it.

STAR WARS: THE BAD BATCH, BABY!

OH MY GOD, THIS SHOW IS AMAZING! I ALWAYS LOVED THE CLONE-CENTRIC EPISODES OF THE CLONE WARS, AND NOW WE GET AN ENTIRE SHOW ABOUT AN ELITE TEAM OF THEM? KICKASS! AND IT TAKES PLACE AFTER ORDER 66 WITH GRAND MOFF TARKIN AS THE MAIN VILLAIN? SWEET MOTHER OF GEORGE LUCAS, I CAN'T WAIT! I DON'T EVEN CARE THAT THEY TRADED IN THE COOL SNIPER CLONE FOR SOME LITTLE GIRL CLONE, I ALREADY WANT TO SEE MORE THAN THE TWO EPISODES WE GOT SO FAR! GOD, I LOVE THIS SHOW!

Oh yeah, there was also a new episode of Miraculous Ladybug that aired on the same day too, I guess. It was pretty good. Hell of a lot better than the past three episodes I've sat through.

Let's get into the fifth (chronologically the eleventh) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Guiltrip

We start off in the middle of class where we see Marinette looking at Adrien lovingly.

Because the writers are still trying to push the Love Square on us as if they were trying to sell us some death sticks. And yes, expect a few Star Wars jokes in this review. This episode did premiere on May 4th after all.

Rose suddenly gets a headache, and asks to go to the nurse, saying that “Miss Dora” is back. While walking there with Marinette, she explains that it's a code name she gives when her head hurts and can tell Miss Bustier without letting everyone know. She probably felt a name like “Maya Grain” would just give it away.

At lunch, Juleka gets a text that really upsets her, so Marinette tries to cheer her up. Keyword being “tries”.

Okay, yes, this is referencing the previous scene, where Rose refers to a certain snack at the nurse's office she eats to recover her health whenever “Miss Dora” visits called “Mr. Coffee”, but it's just bad timing. I get Marinette has a habit of not reading the room, but why did she have to use the term “Miss Dora” when she knows what it's being used for? Sure, she doesn't know that Juleka knows, but did she really have to say “Miss Dora”? She couldn't have used any other name instead? It's like making a chemotherapy joke when you just found out someone close to you has cancer. Even putting the context aside, what is this joke's punchline supposed to be? That “Miss Dora” will visit Juleka if she eats her lunch? Even by the humor standards of this show, the joke fails spectacularly.

Marinette bumps into Adrien, and although she stutters a little with a little exaggerated body movement, she does manage to take things seriously so she can have an actual conversation with Adrien about Juleka, who wants to be alone. She explains that the text she got was from Rose, who was sent to the hospital because of her sickness, and the entire class finds out because Marinette texted everyone to come to check on Juleka.

Goddamn it, Marinette. I usually defend you for getting screwed over by the writing, but you really aren't on your A game today.

Juleka explains that Rose got this sickness when she was little, which naturally worried everyone else. To make things worse, Juleka also says Rose made her swear to not tell anyone about her to worry her. Everyone else swears to not let Rose know that they know, and the act of support is actually enough to drive away an Akuma targeted at Juleka.

Unfortunately, nobody ever said anything about being overly affectionate to Rose, so everyone in the class tries to do things for Rose like carry her bags, giving her a pillow to sit on in school, helping her take notes, letting her cut in line at lunch, and giving her apples.

All of this makes Juleka remorsefully tell Rose that she told everyone else, which worries her because she hates all the special treatment, so she goes to tell them all about her illness. While they seem to accept her, the next time she sneezes, they overreact like, uh... how can I make this joke in a tasteful way?

Rose says she's had enough with all the treatment, which makes Juleka feel guilty. In the bathroom, she gets akumatized into Reflekta (yet again) with a Sentimonster named Guiltrip. And then Reflekta immediately gets sucked into the Sentimonster, which will cause it to go out of control. Nice job, Shadowmoth.

While it might not look like much, this is easily my favorite Sentimonster by far. Granted, that's not saying much, given all we've gotten so far for Sentimonsters is bootleg Mothra, sentient candy, a robotic doll, a frog with a body count, yet another evil doppelganger, and an eye, but my point still stands. Rather than actually confront the heroes, it's basically a portal to another world where it can trap people in bubbles that represent their regrets and despair, and turn them into copies of Reflekta.

It's a really strong metaphor which reminds me of the villains from Kamen Rider Wizard, who tried to drive their victims to despair in order to turn them into monsters. Ironically, that show's main villain is also some asshole in white who was risking countless lives just to save someone close to him. In general, the area inside of Guiltrip is visually stunning, and easily the highlight of the episode. It's just so surreal, and it really sets the tone the episode's going for.

Ladybug and Cat Noir arrive on the scene, and also get sucked into the portal, seeing some of the victims before they also start to fall into despair. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is one of the few times where Angstdrien Depreste is thematically appropriate. Cat Noir points out that if they had simply defeated Shadowmoth by now, none of this would be happening, which is a good point. He even attempts to kill himself using his Cataclysm, but unlike RWBY, they don't try to glorify it.

This also leads to Rose managing to fight off Guiltrip's powers with her optimistic personality (so I guess you could say she's A New Hope for the heroes), inspiring Ladybug to compliment Cat Noir. While I'd normally be pissed that this is yet another way to boost his ego, it does fit in with the episode's theme of positive thinking. Well, with the exception of one line where she points out what her time as Ladybug would be like without Cat Noir...

BEING A SUPERHERO IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. Yes, there are certain benefits to being a superhero, but it is not a fun game you play when lives are on the line. Why are the writers so dedicated to validate Cat Noir's beliefs that being a hero is just a fun extracurricular activity? Has there ever been a superhero who shares a similar mentality and isn't treated like a complete jackass?

So Ladybug and Cat Noir break free of the bubbles, and after summoning her Lucky Charm, a pickaxe, Ladybug realizes she needs more positivity to break free from Guiltrip. As such, she pulls out the Pig Miraculous and gives it to Rose, who transforms into Pigella. Funny how she forgot her little headache condition when she bangs her head like a death metal singer while transforming.

The design is... wait, she's not wearing a skin-tight jumpsuit? She's actually wearing something different?

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Yeah, I really like the Pigella design. There's a good mix of pink and white, and the skirt really brings the whole thing together. It really reflects Rose's optimistic and bubbly personality.

So the three heroes find Reflekta, who has been consumed by tons of bubbles. Pigella uses her superpower, Gift, to show Reflekta what her heart wants the most right now. So it's basically a more specific version of the Fox Miraculous? In fact, what do pigs have to do with optimism?

Whatever reason, it works, which helps Reflekta to break free of Guiltrip's influence, letting Ladybug de-evilize her. But because we need to have a fight scene in this episode, the Reflekta clones start to attack the heroes, but Ladybug uses the pickaxe to climb out of Guiltrip and purify the Amok.

So Rose hands the Pig Miraculous back to Ladybug, and the episode ends with everyone treating Rose normally in class, realizing she isn't as delicate as she thinks she is.

So yeah, I really like this episode. Aside from a few stupid things Marinette said this episode, I honestly don't have a lot of problems with the episode here.

I also really like the lesson this episode is going for. It doesn't shame Rose for rejecting the help, and it doesn't shame the class for being to overprotective of Rose either. It tries to find a middle ground, which is an important lesson to learn, not just for dealing with a loved one who has an illness, but for disabled people and other kinds of situations where someone has a disadvantage. Even as much as I ragged on Marinette for the text, it's clear that she isn't the only one to blame. In fact, nobody really gets blamed for anything this episode. It's more of a misunderstanding, and both sides find a balance on how to treat Rose.

It's overall a really good episode, and the second best one so far this season. And you know what? This episode taught me the importance of staying positive, so with that in mind, maybe I shouldn't be dreading “Queen Banana” when it comes out this week.

Wait, what? It got pushed back two weeks? Oh, THANK GOD! Now I feel like dancing. And I know exactly what song to dance to...

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#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #rose lavillant #pigella #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #shadowmoth #shadow moth #juleka couffaine #reflekta

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whumperooni · 3 years

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God at this point ill give you both an arm and a leg just to see more about katsuki forcefully marrying and fucking todoroki! reader stupid till she's his sweet stupid cum dump wife

m-maybe at some point ;u;

i have so many things i wanna write, but I definitely want to flesh this out more at some point!

Let’s ramble under the cut a lil though. Just for fun ♡

The whole is a mess.

Natsuo is so worried when he finds out and Shoto is absolutely fucking furious- he knows how bad Katsuki is, knows just how timid and weak his little sister is.

He knows how it will turn out.

Rei is, of course, distraught but there’s absolutely nothing she can do. Fuyumi is quietly panicked but she’s too weak and desperate to hold the family together to protest.

There’s no preventing and it’s all done up so neatly- a marriage contract, a tiny wedding complete with a weeping bride, a fistfight between Shoto and Katsuki, and Enji’s hand gripping his daughter’s arm tight enough to leave bruises so she can’t just run away like she so desperately wants to.

The honeymoon is no better. Katsuki at least has the sense to whisk her off to somewhere nice, somewhere private. A small island, a beautiful cottage secluded away where no one can hear her screams and cries- it’d be so lovely if it weren’t for the way he demands she strips down as soon as they enter their home for the week. It would be perfect if it weren’t for how roughly he throws her onto the bed, the way his teeth set into such a greedy grin as he ignores her tears and pleas to take it slow, that it’s her first time and please be gentle.

The sex is more like rutting- animalistic, feral. She’ll come but it won’t be by her own free will and no amount of scrubbing between her thighs after will allow her to feel clean and good again.

The whole week is sex, sex, and more sex. Coupled with flinches whenever his temper explodes, shaking hands as she tries to make him breakfast, whimpers that she can’t hide whenever his voice gets a little too loud.

Sometimes, maybe, he’ll just hold her close- big arms wrapped around her trembling form and hugging her close to his chest, his whole body so warm as he silently runs his hands over her stomach, sighs with something that’s almost content.

Those times breed a tiny hope that maybe it won’t be so bad, that she can survive this and be okay.

That just makes it worse later when he turns broody and snarling, rough and so very vicious.

Back home, everyone will be so excited about Dynamight and his new bride. So many articles about her, the marriage. So many people interested to catch a glimpse of her, to talk about the way the man is shaping up to be such an exquisite hero- how he’s so reminiscent of her father.

It’ll remind her of her mother and the way she stood so quiet at her father’s side while growing up, how she had always felt sad when looking at her mother.

Once home, a routine will quickly settle. He goes to work and she stays home. Her job is to keep the house spotless, to have dinner waiting on the table by the time he comes home, to do the laundry and fold it and put it away neatly, to keep her legs open and her mouth shut.

Her biggest job, though, is to get pregnant.

Katsuki is a perfectionist. Her diet will consist of everything meant to make her more fertile- whether it works or not. Somewhere, he might read that stress is bad for babies and that it could make conceiving harder- so he has to force her into something content.

And forced means forced- whether she knows it or not.

So that means careful spoiling- not too much, not too little. Rewards for good behavior will start to crop up- money pressed into her hand and a grumble to go shopping, allowing her to visit her family, a small gift, some kisses pressed to her cheek that don’t lead to his teeth tearing into her soft neck, and sometimes- sometimes- eating her out until she’s shaking, letting her fall limp against him after and drift off to sleep without him ravaging her.

It’s careful, calculated. Is it in his nature? No. But he can work out the way it grates at him by being a little too rough with villains, by going harder at the gym.

And slowly, slowly she might begin to relax just a little. It’s not too bad being married too him. He’s still violent, he stills fucks her so hard she aches for days after, he stills yells at her and makes her cry whenever she doesn’t meet his impossible standards and is acting like a “shitty woman.”

But, she relaxes. Relaxes enough that she can enjoy the sex a little. Relaxes enough that sometimes she starts to want him- that sometimes she’s eager for him to come home.

And that’s when he’ll start to rile her up before he heads off to work. That’s when he’ll leave her on the edge of orgasm and flustered throughout the day. Leave her unsatisfied and desperate for him even if it makes her feel so ashamed.

Denial starts to be a common theme. No, he’s not going to fuck her- he’s had a long day and he’s fucking tired. No, he’s not going to come home- he has a dinner with Endeavor to talk business. No, he doesn’t have time to stay “just a little longer”- he has villains to crush.

And it’s so calculated- even if he’s throbbing and so hard it has his hackles rising he denies her.

Just to make her desperate.

Just to make her fall into something needy.

She starts instigating sex- pressing against him whenever he comes home and pressing her mouth to his with a tiny whimper, waking him up with her mouth around his cock, wearing lowcut dresses and tight skirts just to try to get him to fuck her.

And the sex becomes good, better. Still rough. Still possessive. But finally getting the orgasms she craves makes it better, leaves her begging for more and mewling instead of crying and pleading no, please stop.

He’ll fuck her, fill her up to the very brim and past it. Rumble in her ear after about how she’s going to give him a baby, has her nodding her head- cumdrunk and sleepy, soft in his arms.

And in those moments, it might all seem okay- the marriage, his hunger for success, the way his hands are always so rough and his voice is always so angry.

The thought of a baby seems okay in those moments.

And, maybe, all her sadness is her fault. She could be a better wife to him. She could be sweeter. Of course he’ll be angry and frustrated if she’s always just a sad, teary, moping thing. It’s her fault.

She can be better. She can be better for her husband.

It’s what he deserves, right?

And maybe a baby will make everything alright. Maybe Katsuki is right- maybe that’s just what they need.

She can give him a baby. She can be good.

A baby- a baby will make everything better.

And it’s so hard not to feel that way when his cock is buried inside of her, when she’s coming and being filled with his seed and her brain is going dumb, her mind is going blank.

Weak, stupid, desperate- she won’t even realize the way he’s training her to bend to his will without any fuss, without any of those tears that had plagued her before.

#tw noncon/dubcon #tw breeding kink #Anonymous

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johannesviii · 3 years

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The Crooked World

Some highlights of the last EDA I’ve read (The Crooked World).

I took these screens while reading, along with my reactions. As usual, this is full of spoilers.

Where to even start. Look, I tried. I really tried to like this book, but I don’t think I can. It has a couple of excellent scenes, and it’s not badly written at all, and the regulars are pretty great in it, and it even has some interesting things to say. But I’m sorry, I just can’t. And it’s not just that I don’t vibe with its ending or that some things in it are a bit lazy ; the issue I have with it is extremely simple and entirely subjective.

There’s no nice way to put it: anything that turns cartoon violence into realistic violence makes me ill. I have no clue why or how, especially considering how fond I am of horror in general ; maybe it’s the contrast between the cute designs and the gore? Maybe it’s the innocence of childhood morphed into something gruesome and deadly? Happy Tree Friends was very popular back when I was a teenager and even other students simply wearing t-shirts featuring some of the characters made me cringe. I’m not entirely sure why, but I’ve always hated it.

So yeah. Uh. This book. I really like parts of it but hate its entire aesthetic. I am in hell. Please send help. 5/10 (by default)

Ok so Tumblr forced me to change the theme of my blog, which means the background of my posts is white now, which makes it a LOT harder to distinguish where each screenshot stops, so I added a little border to them.

Let’s go.

Wait why are we in the Looney Tunes universe all of a sudden

How does this work? Is this the Land of Fiction? I’m intrigued

ASDFGHGFDFGH WELCOME TO A NEW EDA, DOCTOR

Oh shit, so the Crooked World works on cartoon logic, but it doesn’t extend to the TARDIS team

I like this realistic description of a cartoon bird even if it’s making me a bit anxious, not gonna lie

Ok no that cartoon ambulance is STRAIGHT UP giving me anxiety

Yeah no I'm absolutely Fitz in this situation

Meanwhile that bird is trying to kill Anji

Yeah no hold on a second, is the entire book going to be like this? Because this is nearly as distressing as Happy Tree Friends for me

And I do not want to go back to that era of entertainment

I cannot emphasize enough how much I don’t want to go back

Wait. Are you introducing this world to the concept of death

After all this time, he's still terrified of hospitals

Get me out of this circle of hell

GET BACK TO THE F█CKING TARDIS

Poor Fitz is worried sick and I am too

I would laugh if any of this was less nightmarish

Of course there's a Coyote too, why am I even surprised

Oh and Wacky Races too! I used to watch that! It’s called Les Fous du Volant in France and I know the intro by heart sdfghjkdfghjkjhgf

No.

I feel you Anji, I feel you

Thanks! This is horrifying!

Fitz being nice to the poor cartoon cat condemned to always fail at everything is giving me feelings

GOOD QUESTION AND I WISH THEY WOULD STOP

Hey give me back my ugly shirt

FINALLY SOME GOOD DECISIONS

Nice try, Fitz

Well, you've accidentally introduced the concept of death, for one thing

Oh my god Anji found the Scooby gang

(Gotta say one thing though, it’s weird she isn’t comparing them to the Scooby Gang considering she compared someone to Velma from the Scooby Gang in the previous book)

You know what? I'm ok with this.

They're going to make this entire place even more f█cked up that it already is

Fitz. Fitz this is a bad idea and you know it

THANKS THAT’S F█CKING HORRIFYING

Poor Fitz is expected to die at the slightest opportunity because he’s supposed to be a hero

Ah yes just what we needed: explosives

Fitz wasn't playing his “role” correctly and it was apparently enough to throw them off their respective roles as well

That part is cute, and also a bit Megamind in spirit

GOOD

Oh no FITZ NO

I KNOW I SAY “FITZ NO” VERY OFTEN BUT CONSIDERING HOW THIS WORLD REACTS TO NEW CONCEPTS THIS IS A VERY STRONG “NO”

and she grabbed the leader of the Scooby Gang

Which reminds me that most of Doctor Who works with the exact opposite of Scooby Doo logic

(source)

False alarm, things seem to be all right.

Also Fitz wondering if he should hold her hand or not is extremely cute

ASDFGHJHGFDFGHJKJHGFDSDFGHJKJHGFD F█CKING HELL THIS BIT WAS AHEAD OF ITS TIME AND HAS AGED LIKE FINE WINE

STOP BEING CUTE

Fitz. Fitz my boy. Fitz my dude. Please don’t.

I still think this is the Land of Fiction but it probably isn’t

Must be Tuesday

Is. Is he accidentally going to bring the concept of sex in this world

I'm gonna scream

ASDFGHJKLKJHGFD

Me trying to speak English in all my WIP videos

Ok I love this detail

Oh I like this conversation already. Go on.

Not what I expected, but very good.

NEVERMIND OH MY F█CKING G O D

A very cool but very surreal escape plan.

Poor little piggy

IGNORANCE AND BLISS: THE STORY

Real talk I don’t like the fact that the Doctor decided that changing this world to bring it closer to reality was automatically a good thing. It has some sort of unpleasant “you don’t know what’s good for you” vibe about it.

In other news water is wet

Oh uh well this hits harder nowadays, doesn’t it

OH UH WELL, THIS HITS HARDER NOWADAYS, DOESN’T IT 2: THE THRILLING SEQUEL

Of course it also means criminals get to be actually dangerous now

Hey, it almost worked though

Not so fun fact! Being tickled for too long actually becomes horribly painful because your body kind of switches automatically to “pain” mode

Eight. Always the optimist.

Hey um.... yikes?

Honestly if it's not the land of fiction I will riot

BEHOLD! One more reason to argue about The Colour of the Coat!!

This is a terrifying thought, thanks Anji

Hi hello yes remember my Happy Tree Friends comment

Well I'm in hell

Basically same

I think it's the fact they're portrayed as child-like innocent but SENTIENT beings that gets to me

Please look at my two idiots

Questioning the lethality of cartoon weapons by applying real-world logic to them! I like it! That's clever

W-

WOULD IT, THOUGH

WOULD IT REALLY

youtube

WOULD IT R E A L L Y

Eleven would LOVE THIS

This is the fourth screen from the same page. There isn’t a single thing I don’t like in the scene.

Also I need someone to read it with zero context like I need air

Ok so this book might not be the best experience for me but I think we can all agree this was the best scene so far by a mile

Meanwhile the Scooby gang gets existential

STOP WITH THE REALISTIC VIOLENCE ON TOONS ALREADY

THIS POOR CAT HADN’T DONE ANYTHING TO DESERVE A BROKEN SKULL

A genre-saavy Scooby Gang sounds like the most powerful thing in the world

Ah yes uh... another bit that hits different nowadays, doesn’t it

YEAH ALL DOG COPS ARE BASTARDS

Steve Lyons my dude my friend please, you can stop trying to give me nightmares any time now

Look what YOU'VE done to THEM as well Doctor

Oh come on.

In a way I’m also starting to wonder if it's also a not-so-veiled metaphor of what the EDAs did with Doctor Who, with all the added violence and gore. But if that’s the case, it's very superficial criticism

Ok this quote is raw as all hell

I should create a “Fitz No” button and push it from time to time

Honestly at this point I feel drained

Meanwhile here’s a Scooby Doo villain getting a taste of his own medicine

Yeah good

No offense Eight but I don't trust you and your shitty memory and I especially wouldn’t trust you as a lawyer

Isn't that a bit too late though? You brought all this change by accident and didn’t give a shit because you thought it was a good thing, and you’re only trying to actively help after some of them died

Are. Are you sure this is helping

I feel like I’m 11 and back in Civic Education class come on

Again with the whole “ignorance & bliss” aspect

I really don’t want to dislike this book, it’s interesting I swear, I just wish it didn't have gruesome realistic violence on toons

Uh. I can’t remember if that was discussed about Anji before. Interesting

The fact the Land of Fiction is more or less mentioned here makes me think it won't be that at all

The Scooby Gang is the best thing in this book, mostly because they don't traumatise me

Please never explain to them what an A bomb actually does

Very Good And Cute

ASDFGHJHGFDFGH THE MOOD WHIPLASH

He's scared to disappoint her oh nooooo

Oh this looped back on itself and ended up being cute again

Meanwhile the Scooby Gang was providing music for the chase in-universe

sdfghjkjhgfdfghjkh e l p I love them

Ah yes just as we suspected

The culprit is an edgy Power metal song

ASDFGHJKLMLKJHGFDSDFGHJKLM FITZ

I sense some awkwardness between these two

Something went wrong

Is an explanation coming at last

OH SO UH THAT EXPLAINS SOME THINGS

P E R F E C T

Fitz sabotaging the villains, everyone

Oh hey look, I was right about the whole Megamind thingie!

Also it’s very cute

O H

Ok I'll give you the cartoon logic pass for that one

O Please give us answers you ridiculous thing in disguise

OH. Oh so this book said ACAB, got it

This is both extremely funny and very unsatisfying I’m torn

FINALLY

So a human child crashed here, onto this... malleable planet inhabited by? living thoughts or concepts, maybe? and turned it into a cartoon

Makes sense. Also very underwhelming

Yeah so I'm guessing this is a world of pure thoughts then

WELL I’M NOT

You

You made things better, uh?

Are you sure about that?

What wait what

Is death no longer permanent

What a cop out

And the bastard cop now has the job the pig used to have

I mean

As he should

Is it too obvious if I say I’m glad this book is over? Because I am. It was interesting but please, let’s never do this again.

#The Crooked World #Eighth Doctor #Eighth Doctor Adventures #Fitz Kreiner #Anji Kapoor #edas #doctor who #An EDA liveblog full of useless comments #long post #caps lock #violence tw #gore tw #body horror tw #all in written form but still

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Note

I don’t get you, CJ. Why are you so quick to throw around the term “bad writing” when you don’t agree with something? Why not simply chalk it up to having different likes or dislikes than other people and move on?

Instead of deconstructing characters you don’t like, why not use your platform to empower other voices and highlight others with different tastes or opinions than you? Different people notice different things about the games. That’s one of the nice things about fandom.

You clearly love writing and analysis, but when you post answers to asks that hold different opinions than you’re own, you often go “you’re valid, but…” and launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs of your opposite opinion rather than truly exploring theirs.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I think your blog and analyses would be stronger if rather than dismissing plot points or characters as “bad writing” you step outside yourself and ask others what they see in that writing since it’s not connecting with you.

To be fair, anon, I don't get me either.

But I hear you, so if you'll allow me to do the thing where I launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs, let's talk about this.

I assume this might've come about because of the recent Violet talk here? Or maybe it's from older posts, I dunno, you didn't specify so I can only speculate and use the Violet posts as the main example here.

So here's the thing... deconstructing characters and storylines is something I enjoy doing. Hell, it's one of my favorite things to do. It doesn't matter if I like or dislike the character, or if I agree with plot directions, or if I think it's "good" or "bad" writing. That's how I work things out for myself, how I try to understand why I'm feeling the way I am about certain characters and story elements. I break apart the different aspects of these things and analyze them so that I can improve the content I create and try to avoid the same mistakes I've come across that I wanted to be better.

When it comes to me tossing around "bad writing", or just implying it, I'm not trying to say that "bad writing = trash, garbage, unenjoyable, anyone who likes this is a dingus, how could you?" it's more "I see flaws here and I want it to be better, I know it can be better and it frustrates me that I can't fix it," y'know?

And I'm fully aware that other people might not see it that way. With that basketball Violet post, I know that a lot of the Violet crowd are gonna read that and be like "no, I love the bell tower scene! It fits well with her character! What are you talking about?" and that's fine, I expect that. That post was me writing something that's been on my mind that I wanted to share, it wasn't me trying to scold anyone for liking it or trying to dismiss their feelings about it.

When it comes to differing opinions, especially on Violet, I've come to the conclusion that we just gotta agree to disagree. I've tried for years at this point to understand the appeal of Violet and gone looking for answers about her in hopes of being enlightened, and I have asked around.

In the past, I have made posts inquiring about what people see in Violet [Minerva, too] and why they prefer Violentine, and I got little to nothing in response. So I totally get where you're coming from when you say I should ask others what they see in the writing that I don't, but there's only so much I can do when no one is willing to answer me. So, I have to look around myself.

I've searched through several threads on reddit and none of them have been insightful, unsurprisingly.

That's what sparked my mini-rant about Louis before. On reddit, a lot of the answers on why people like Violet are either "she sided with Clementine, she's just really sweet deep down, she has more trauma, and lesbian," or "I like Violet more because Louis is a traitor," and what the hell am I supposed to get out of that, y'know? They're not really telling me anything, they're just looking to argue among themselves and I've had to throw in the towel on that one.

I've had better luck here, having read some truly insightful posts about Violet, her arc, and her relationship with Clementine. The conclusion I've reached it that the things people find appealing about her are things that I don't.

If you need an example, we'll use the aftermath of Marlon's murder when Violet turns on the group to defend AJ. Every post from the Violet crowd I've read that talks about that scene praises her for turning against her friends/family to defend AJ when they were gonna attack him, it shows what she's willing to do for them, that's something that drew them to her. Then there's me, who sees that as adding unnecessary aggression to the situation when none of them were going to attack AJ, they weren't looking at AJ, and none of this is helping. Neither of these interpretations are wrong.

Guess what I'm trying to get at is I'm one person, and having discussions takes more than one willing person.

Moving on, "when you post answers to asks that hold different opinions than you’re own, you often go “you’re valid, but…” and launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs of your opposite opinion rather than truly exploring theirs."

I've thought about this for a while, and maybe I do actually do this but don't realize it. I like to think that I'm engaging with the ideas that people send me, but I dunno, maybe I can be dismissive of things because I have a hard time being objective. That's something I've always struggled with, and I'm sorry if I ever came across as dismissive or didn't fully explore ideas, that's something I can definitely get better at.

As for "why not use your platform to empower other voices and highlight others with different tastes or opinions than you? Different people notice different things about the games. That’s one of the nice things about fandom."

I've done character nights, ship nights, season nights, etc. for about two years, give or take. That's what those nights were about. Usually, I'd put up a poll and we'd all vote on what we wanted to discuss, and then the floor was open for anyone to give their input, and we'd discuss.

I stopped doing them a little while ago because I was burnt out on themed nights. Remembering to make new polls, setting aside part of my weekends to spend hours answering asks the best I could, usually dealing with other projects on top of it all.... it may not seem like it, but god, those nights took a lot out of me. I loved doing it! Having those discussions were some of the best parts of running this blog, but now my new job has me working 40+ hours a week, four days with ten hour shifts and occasionally some overtime on the weekends, I just don't have it in me anymore to do it every single weekend. Not with how tired I am and with all the other projects I'm working on.

That's why I've started testing the waters with these shorter posts of me throwing out ideas or going on mini-rants. They're something simple I can do with no pressure, just me with an empty document getting whatever's on my mind out... and it helps that it feels like my last fuck has just flown away to the heavens to weave itself into the boat god's beard like as he sails among the clouds and stars..... so now I'm gonna talk about whatever I want and the fact that it's my opinion is implied.

I'm sorry if I'm coming off as a little defensive with this part, I tend to get that way whenever people tell me what I should or shouldn't do with my blog, even if they're just trying to be helpful and I don't believe you have any ill intent with your message. I've had this blog for three years now, and I've always had people telling me I shouldn't do character analyses, I should stay in my lane, just write fanfics and do character nights. I should answer more asks otherwise people will think I don't care. I shouldn't write headcanon posts, that's what other blogs do and I'll be taking content away from them. I shouldn't write that one au I've always wanted to because I should be working on [with you]. I shouldn't write anything but [with you.] I shouldn't talk about Violet because I'm a Louis blog.

And that's dumb. All of that is dumb! No one owns the concept of headcanon posts or character analyses! Just like how I don't own the concept of character nights!

Again, my last fuck is lost in Kenny's beard, I don't have it anymore. I'm going to write and analyze whatever I want, when I want, and the best I can do is promise to be better. My inbox is open, I'll try to answer and engage with you guys when I can, I'll keep doing these posts where I ramble about whatever topic is on my mind, and I shouldn't have to put a disclaimer of "This is all my opinion and it's okay if you disagree, I'm not trying to invalidate you" because that's implied.

Before I close out this long response, I do wanna add a thank you for the ask, I do appreciate the constructive criticism. Usually anons that have any problem with me after I talk about Violet will just call me a piece of shit and tell me to delete my blog. Maybe this helped you, maybe it didn't, either way thanks :)

#asks #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet

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latetaektalk · 4 years

Text

deep end | myg

“yoongi was bad for you, was only going to hurt you, but you just could never get enough of him, never resist him.”

genre: fuckboy! au, angst, fluff, sexual themes

pairing: yoongi x female reader

word count: 2.283

warnings: cursing, sexual themes, making out, yoongi is a little shit

playlist: august - taylor swift

a/n: yes, this was absolutely inspired by the song august by taylor swift. honestly, i dont know what this is, but yeah. maybe ill turn this into a small drabble series because this is definitely not the end lol

August

“Your friends must hate me,” Yoongi whispered between kisses, his words almost lost between your lips.

“They don’t.” You didn’t know why you lied, why you tried to convince Yoongi otherwise when both of you knew better. You shimmed around in his lap, your hands fiddling with his leather jacket in a desperate attempt to get more of him, have him even closer.

“Yeah?” Yoongi laughed but didn’t stop kissing you, his hands wandering down your back, inching you closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You rolled your eyes when he laughed again, interrupting the kiss you had been about to press against his lips. “Fine, maybe they’re not crazy about you.”

“Does that bother you?” Yoongi asked and you shivered when he snuck his cold hands underneath your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt like you weren't sitting in the front seat of his rusty and terribly old car and anybody could walk past and see you two.

You looked at him because it did bother you. Of course, it did. They were still your friends and you cared about what they thought of you and the choices you made. At the same time, you knew that deep down it didn’t matter too much, didn’t matter too much because in the end, you were the one playing this game with him, this game of cat and mouse, this game of supposed meaningless and unattached sex.

It didn’t matter too much because in the end, you got to have Yoongi.

And that made everything worth it, the moment you had him.

“No.”

You pressed your lips to his again and squeezed your eyes shut, your hands wandering down to his belt in an attempt to get him to drop the topic, but Yoongi just always loved pushing your limits, seeing where that got him.

“You’re a bad liar, baby.”

You almost froze, almost stopped fiddling with his belt, a flush creeping up to your cheeks. His words were like daggers to your heart. Truths you didn’t want to hear, refused to hear.

“You-”

You abandoned his belt, giving up on trying to figure it out because clearly that wasn’t working, and cut him off by slamming your lips against his. You started working on his leather jacket again, desperate to get it off, but somehow, you ended up being the one with only your skirt and bra on, your legs growing tired and numb from straddling him.

“I like that though,” Yoongi hummed against your skin as he started leaving wet kisses against your neck.

“What?” you breathed, mind starting to cloud and making it hard for you to focus. You pulled your head back and let your eyes flutter shut, his lips leaving you weak in your knees and everywhere else.

Yoongi stayed at that one spot he knew that always had you melting in his hands, nibbling on your neck the way he knew you enjoyed, turned you putty, weak.

“I like that you’re a bad liar, baby.”

You ran your hands through your hair and hated how shallow and laboured your breathing was.

“Shut- fuck,” Yoongi bit down on your skin, making you squirm and curse. You tried again, through gritted teeth, “Fucking shut up.”

You felt Yoongi smirk against your skin the way he always did when he was satisfied with himself, proud that he had managed to push your buttons.

“Just because it’s you.”

You were in the middle of typing up a text when Jennie decided to throw a pillow at you, forcing your phone out of your grasp and the air out of your lungs.

“Ow, what the fuck?” You rubbed your head where the pillow had hit you and sent Jennie a glare. "What was that for?"

"You're not listening," she hissed and you removed a piece of lint stuck to your jeans.

"Tell me you're not texting dickhead again," Jisoo said and you cringed when you looked at her and saw the half-chewed up chips in her mouth.

“Stop talking when you’re eating, Ji,” you groaned and held up your hand to block her out of your view. “It’s gross.”

“Grosser than Yoongi?” Jisoo countered and you took the pillow Jennie had thrown at you and chugged it at Jisoo. Unlike you though, she caught it and simply used it to support her head.

“So, were you? Texting dickhead, I mean,” Jennie asked and swivelled around in your squeaky office chair that used to belong to your brother. She fixed you with the look she knew you hated because it always made you turn away. “Jesus.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked and clutched your phone tightly to your chest because you weren’t sure if Jennie would get up and take it out of your hands. You wouldn’t put it past her. She had done it before.

“Why?” Jennie groaned, ignoring your question. “Why do you keep doing this to you? He fucking sucks! He’s a goddamn fuckboy who’s only gonna use you for sex and drop you the moment some new girl comes around.”

You pursed your lips and pressed through gritted teeth, “It’s not like that. He’s not like-”

“He is like that,” Jennie cut in and shook her head at you. “How many times do we have to tell you to get it, Y/N? He’s no good! You’re just another girl to him. A notch in his stupid fuckboy belt.”

Your hands tightened into fists, so much so that your knuckles started turning white. It was painful, but not worse than Jennie’s words.

You turned to Jisoo. She gave you a much more sympathetic look, but you could see in her eyes that she thought the same way as Jennie. A fact that made you groan and roll your eyes.

“Look, I’m not saying all of that to be mean, babe,” Jennie sighed and you could still hear the irritation dripping from her voice. She tried to be soft and nice, but she couldn’t hide her true feelings. “I-”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N,” Jisoo jumped in when Jennie couldn’t finish her sentence and you screwed your eyes shut before letting yourself fall back, the mattress giving in underneath your weight.

“Yeah, we don’t,” Jennie said and got up from your chair, the squeaking making you scrunch up your face. She moved over to you and you felt the mattress dip when she got on it.

“You’ve gotta protect yourself, babe,” Jennie started again and touched your knee, squeezing it like that would help convince you.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta protect yourself,” Jisoo echoed and paused to shift closer to you, her arm wrapping around your middle to pull you into a hug you didn’t reciprocate. “People like Yoongi… they’re never good.”

You could smell the chips on her breath and you wanted to crinkle your nose.

“It’s stupid to get involved with people like Yoongi.”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and when you did, Jisoo offered you a smile, a smile that was meant to cheer you up, but it only made you press your lips together and turn away to look at Jennie. When you did though, she was offering you the same kind of smile and you settled on staring at the ceiling.

All three of you fell into silence and was only interrupted once when Jennie decided to lay down with you and wrap her arm around you as well. After a moment and some thinking, you put your arms around Jennie and Jisoo.

You just lay there, in thought. It was a peaceful moment, a moment you only shared every now and then. A moment you enjoyed despite the minutes before it.

It was all nice until your phone started buzzing violently in your hand and drew everybody’s attention to it. You lifted it to see who it was. Almost instantly, your heart skipped a beat.

Yoongi.

“Don’t,” Jennie warned and sat up when you did. You looked between her and your phone. Yoongi had never called you before, and quite frankly, you didn’t know how to react.

“Y/N, just ignore it,” Jisoo chimed in from behind you and you stared at your phone in your hand, still buzzing like it was a bomb about to explode.

“Y/N, don’t-”

“I’m sorry.”

You picked up the call before Jennie could reach for your phone and decline it. You winced when she let out a long breath through her nose and cursed underneath your breath, but before you could beg her to just understand and that Yoongi and you weren’t that easy, he spoke,

“Meet me behind the mall.”

You blinked and scratched the back of your head, confused.

“Hang up, Y/N,” Jennie hissed underneath her breath and you turned away from her, but she started reaching for your phone, forcing you to stand up and put some distance between you two.

“What?” you said and had to fight to keep your voice steady because Jennie had resorted back to throwing pillows at you.

“You read my text, right?” Yoongi said and you knew he was in his car, the faint humming of the motor so ingrained in you after hours spent in his car, you could always recognise it.

“Yeah, I did,” you said and raised your arm just in time to block the next pillow Jennie threw at you.

“You started typing, but stopped,” Yoongi continued and said it like you wouldn’t know that.

“For god’s sake, Y/N, hang up,” Jennie hissed and grabbed another pillow.

“Yeah, I did,” you repeated, ignoring her completely as you walked into your adjacent bathroom and closed as well as locked the door behind you before she could throw the pillow at you.

“I asked you if you wanted to go out,” Yoongi said and you slid down the door, pulling your knees close to your chest.

“Yeah, you did,” you said and Yoongi laughed.

“Are those three words the only words you know?” he asked and you chuckled, shaking your head as if he could see you.

“No, I can say more,” you mumbled and you knew a smile was on Yoongi’s lips now. You pressed your phone closer to your ear.

“So,” Yoongi started and you bit on your lip, waiting for him to continue. It took him longer than usual, but there was no wavering in his voice when he did finally speak, “Meet me behind the mall.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck and you had to take a moment to make sure your breathing wasn’t too laboured and your voice too high.

“Is that,” the words still came out shaky, “is that a question or a demand?”

“Whatever you want it to be.”

Your heart practically leaped out of your chest and you were certain, he knew. He knew what his words did to you, what he did to you.

“I’m in front of your dorm.”

“Fuck,” you cursed underneath your breath and tipped back your head, screwing your eyes shut.

“You want me to go?” Yoongi teased.

“No, no,” you said quickly and shook your head, your teeth sinking deeper into your lip. “Don’t go.”

Yoongi hummed and it was scary how perfectly you could picture him right now, the corners of his lips curled up into that familiar smirk, that mischievous glint in his eyes as he stared out the window, waiting for you to come out and jump inside his rusty and terribly old car, his tongue digging around in his cheek with his phone lazily pressed against his ear, the usual leather jacket covering his upper half.

God, you were fucked.

“Then, come out.”

Yoongi hung up and you dropped your head to your chest, cursing internally at him. You stayed on the floor for a handful of seconds before you straightened up and shoved your phone into your pocket.

You opened the door to your bathroom with a heavy sigh, ready to get another pillow thrown at you. So when one did hit you square in the face, you barely flinched, closing and opening your eyes just to see a more than irritated Jennie standing in the middle of your tiny bedroom with her hands on her hip.

Wordlessly, you picked up the pillow and tossed it back onto your bed where Jisoo was still lying in, back to eating her chips.

“I can’t with you, Y/N,” Jennie said with a shake of her head and an audible exhale through her nose. She knew.

You pressed the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth and looked at the floor. You wanted to say something, explain to Jennie that Yoongi… he had power over you. He had you in his grip, and it was tight, almost too tight. But you liked that, you liked that because he made you feel things and ways you had never before. It was exciting, thrilling, addicting.

Yoongi was exciting, thrilling, addicting.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly and rubbed your nose with your hand.

“Just go,” Jennie sighed, sounding so defeated that you had to lift your head and look at her. You couldn’t read her face. A mix of disappointment and irritation was etched into her features, but you weren’t sure who she was disappointed in and irritated by. With you? With Yoongi? With herself maybe? With Jisoo because she didn’t come to back her up much?

“You’re stupid, Y/N,” Jisoo told you at the front door. Jennie had stayed in your bedroom, probably still too angry to see you go.

You walked out.

223 notes · View notes

maplecourtesy · 3 years

Text

TAZ:G NOTES, EPISODE 38

god okay. it’s finale time. this ones a long one im both very scared and very excited. the setup they did in the last episode was SO cool i’m very hyped for this

OKAY OKAY WE ARE STARTING.

and going STRAIGHT into a boss battle with CHAOS BUILD CHARACTERS this is so sick

[most of the content under the cut, because spoilers!!]

CAN I JUST SAY, THE USE OF THE WORD HERO IN THE EPISODE DESCRIPTION VS TRAVIS’ EXPOSITION BEFORE THE BATTLE. “we need some heroes.” vs “at some point in the past this might have been a job for a hero. but not now, not anymore.” i love that. so much. ive said it before and ill say it again one of the sexiest parts of grad is the way they redefined heroes and villains.

oh right holy shit chaos and order shouldn’t have been able to exist together,, chaos and order are at such ends now that theyve completely split,, chaos no longer relies on order thats so sexy

RELEASE THE KRAKEN VERY POGGERS ACTION NAME they r so cool and powerful i love them

IMAGINE taking 20 damage from fitzroy just being in ur VICINITY

oh i forgot about gray he and althea are there right

BIG SNIPPERS??!??!!?!? BIG SNIPPERS. MY BABY BOY I LOVE HIM.

im so tired of order can they do something cool instead of blinding the one pc who’s not even gotten a turn yet

FUCK SHIT UP ARGO awesome thats 66 damage good for him he is JUST like loki

hey this ethereal music kinda vibes

everyone is kittens. hm.

ENJOY THESE MEOW-TEORS meow

i am very happy about all the meowing but also i think its very funny that justin said hes gonna dislike any firbolg art he sees

FURBOLG

fitzroy kitty cat rage…. what are we even doing here whats going on

i wish that grays first epic move wasnt as a kitten but i can work with this

FITZROY GIVES GRAY HIS MAUL??? i think this is the peak of the sibling dynamic between them. bickering and complaining but cooperating when it really matters

GOD. how are we having every fucking cartoon trope in one battle. u guys know in cartoons when they like get put through some beam and u see into different universes or whatever and theyre cats and they have a body swap and maybe theres a sock puppets one. this is that.

GRIFFIN FIRBOLG IMPRESSION

maplekeeners stay winning

argo does a sexy graceful reverse dive but he also looks like fitzroy so thats fitzroy. good.

NOW THEYRE THE REAL GUYS. i hate this

cannot believe im listening to justin mcelroy roleplay justin mcelroy sending meteors at a horde of hellhounds

GRIFFIN MCELROY PUSHES GRAY THE DEMON PRINCE TO THE GROUND SAYS SOME COOL MOVIE LINE AND CASTS THE BIGGEST THUNDERWAVE EVER.

SNIPPERS KAIJU

THIS IS THE SOCK PUPPET AND THE DIFFERENT ANIMATION STYLE BIT OF THE CARTOON TROPES.

fuck off travis give me animated taz

i do like this music a lot its got video game vibes

DIFFERENT CLINT MCELROY??? disgraced dj clint mcelroy x janitor clint mcelroy fanfic /j please dont

AUDIENCE??? thats me im the ones cheering

THUNDERMAN LOVE LANGUAGE IS HANDS ON SHOULDERS. and now they are both clouds of gas

fuck that is so cool fitzroy is the coolest hes just shooting lightning out of his hands and its his cool lightning illuminating him. THATS a painting

AW WHAT. HEYYY WHAT ORDER STOP IT IT WAS GETTING GOOOOD.

chaos i like u so much. i’m a chaos sympathist and apologist now i adore them

mission imp-hospital <3

oh my god what the hell i just got chills i love this so much,, everyones a hero,,, this fucks .,, theyve destroyed capitalism and systemic injustice i love them very much

A BALANCE HAS SHIFTED.. THE WORLD HAS TURNED TO CHAOS.

i am so enamored with how travis described that this makes me so happy

order i hope u die powerless and fearful

THEYRE SINGING THE THUNDERMEN SONG. GOD I LOVE THEM…

it would be very sexy if they did just cut to black i wouldnt be mad.

CHAOS E N D ORDER. PLEASE. U DESERVE THIS CHAOS.

GO TO HELL. INCREDIBLE. FUCK THATS SO GOOD good firbolg lines today as always.

FIRBOLG IS GRAYS FAVORITE?!?!?

chaos i love u very much. i think they deserve to have whatever they want ever

FITZROY LETTING HIM KEEP HIS MAUL,,

obsessed with gray calling fitzroy his best friend right after saying the firbolg was his favorite and then ending their last conversation ever by telling argo he’s his son.

althea and barb r girlfriends <3

literally what happened to rainer btw where is she

leon and buckminster r boyfriends <3

OH RAINER HI THERE SHE IS

thunderman llc doesn’t have time for labels

OH THE MUSIC… THIS BRINGS ME BACK

i like it very much that during taz graduation, instead of graduating, they became anarcho-anticapitalists and took down the entire school system.

WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN 5 YEARS. we’re doing a timeskip ending…

btw where did the fucking time travel fit into this i’m still confused about that.

okay but do they not sail away on a ship together. on argo’s new ship.

he’s just… fitzroy maplecourt now!!! wow…. that character arc is so near and dear to my heart. from forcing people to call him by his full name and his full title to relieving himself of the titles completely.. guys i love fitzroy

FITZROY BOYCLOAKS MAGAZINE COVER PAGE 8 ISSUES IN A ROW AND HES STARTED A WOODLAND CREATURE FASHION LINE AND HES RICH. he helps out his parents too that’s so sweet.. And he’s got a beard.

JUST PLAIN OLD FITZROY<3333333333 ouhgh,,, this is so cute… he’s getting closure. and he gets to give a cool speech…. about anarchism………. and going to fucking Law School. oh that’s very good..

does. the firbolg settle down. ill fucking lose it. DOES THE FIRBOLG FUCK THE TINY GARY. I CAN’T DO THIS I COULDN’T DO THIS. THIS IS THE FUCKING WORST PLEASE DON’T. does the firbolg BECOME a gary!?!?!?!?!? what the fuck is happening i’m so confused please stop. can we just go back to having the thundermen be friends so the firbolg isn’t lonely. please. i’m going fucking insane this can’t be how the firbolg ends i can’t fucking do this i can’t call him gary. his name can’t be gary. NotLikeThis.

IS THIS A GARY COMMERCIAL. I HATE THIS

OKAY ARGO TIME PLEASE HAVE A GOOD ONE ARGO PLEASE.

argo on the firboat!!! what will he do!!!

A CRUISE SHIP YES. FUCK YES OKAY I CAN WORK WITH THIS. what the fuck does he mean by the firbolg experience. why is there a theme song oh god oh no.

i’m in hell order’s gone to hell and taken me with them. how did he fucking come up with this. AND he ends with the thunderman llc. good.

OH THEY’RE ALL ON THE CRUISE SHIP… cute i like this

HE COMMANDEERS THE COMMODORES FLEET AND HAS TURNED THEM INTO A CRUISE SHIP LINE

oh,,, fitzroy suggesting they go for one last fight? ;; cute as well.

DON’T JOKE ABOUT GRAD2ATION I WILL CRY. ISN’T THE NEXT ARC SET ON THE SEAS. DON’T JOKE ABOUT THIS

oh ;;;;;w;;;;;;;;; fitzroy………<3 he has grown so much,, no more considering himself above his companions,, he is just fitzroy maplecourt and he loves and misses his pals. and because of this he will get a cruise ship based on him.

YEAHHHHHH FRONT FOR PIRACY. GOOD.

oh my god,, fitzroy becomes a robin hood of the seas.

they all miss each other ;;;; <3

ARE WE GONNA END WITH THE THEME SONG. CHRIST. OKAY.

no this fucking sucks actually. goodbye everyone. it’s been nice.

AWWW THE END MUSIC… wowowowowow they brought it full circle with the soundtrack and ended with laughing and a fun little fitzroy joke. i’m happy with that :]

i’ll miss the thundermen so very much,, i don’t know how excited i am for the next arc it kinda rests on the pcs,, i prefer griffin’s pcs over when he dms but let’s see!!! well pogchamp fun end to perhaps my favorite taz arc!!!!<3333333

#taz #taz graduation spoilers #taz grad #taz g #taz graduation #taz grad spoilers #the adventure zone #the adventure zone graduation #taz episode 38 #sir fitzroy maplecourt #fitzroy maplecourt #argonaut keene #argo keene #master firbolg #the firbolg #taz notes by krys #krys talks

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theartistichuman · 3 years

Text

Tma 200 spoilers

I might post this to my ao3. This is a rough draft so please ignore the subpar writing.

Summary-

Melanie and Georgie heal.

They never did find the bodies in the end. That’s not for lack of trying; they scoured every inch of what used to be The Magnus Institute. They found a plethora of tapes, and some preserved Leitners (Georgie insisted on throwing them out, despite Melanie insisting that they were safe, and even if they weren’t they couldn’t hurt her anyways) but not a single body. Not even of the previous archivists.

Neither of them knew exactly what that meant. Georgie stayed stubbornly optimistic, but Melanie knew better. Georgie may have had her encounters, but Melanie almost was an encounter. She knew what it felt like to be afraid of what you’re becoming, but to want to hurt people anyways. She knew what it felt like to want to burn the world around you, and just keep walking. Melanie wanted to believe what Georgie did- that those two were dead and at rest- but she didn’t have the hope to keep it up. Not like Georgie did.

It takes time to make a new normal. Most days it felt like the world was holding its breath; waiting for the moment that their rest would be interrupted and they would be dragged back into their fear. Georgie started going to therapy, and seemed all the better for it. Melanie saw a psychiatrist every month or so for a check up, but after spending so long with Laverne worshipping her, she knew she needed a bit more time. It wasn’t good to put it off, but Georgie (and, by proxy, Georgie’s therapist) insist she take her time.

Georgie starts her podcast up after Melanie scolds her for getting stir crazy (employment was still fickle). She changed the theme, citing t that people probably wouldn’t want to speculate about the supernatural after they lived it. Instead she starts inviting people to send in her stories.

“Community counseling”Georgie told her over their celebratory dinner (dinosaur chicken nuggets and boxed wine) “people might feel better if they get their stories out there.”

Melanie highly doubted that, but she was the first guest on the newly rebranded ‘What the Apocalypse’ anyways. (It did make her feel better, but she suspects Georgie knows without her admitting it.)

The Admiral is different from how he was before. He didn’t pounce on things and his separation anxiety got so bad the vet put him on meds. The Admiral didn’t seem to like the dark much either, but according to Georgie that might not be because of the end of the world.

Every morning they take their meds together at breakfast. Melanie (with the assistance of her Scanmarker Air, that she refers to as her “sketchmarker air” to Georgie’s dismay) gets The Admiral his tuna, as Georgie makes them cereal.

Every evening they sit together and listen to their favorite books. Georgie will order them Hungarian on Fridays, and Melanie buys a cat carrier for The Admiral for Tuesday walks. It feels like family, and Melanie loves it so much it hurts.

Basira wanders in an out of their lives. Melanie isn’t sure what she’s up to, but she seems lost. Before she always seemed headstrong and powerful: like she knew where she was going and why. But now, without the pressure of the world on her shoulders, Basira seemed... timid almost.

Whenever Basira came over Georgie and Melanie would bring out their board games. They would drink an obscene amount of apple juice, and laugh until the sun came up. Basira never stayed past that, and they never asked her to.

One day Georgie interrupts their newfound evening “Melanie, we should talk.”

“About.....?” Melanie tries to point her face at where she approximates Georgie’s is. Georgie gently touches Melanie’s chin and guides her face up.

“Up here babe,” she says, fondly, “but I’ve told you that you don’t need to do that.”

Melanie knows she doesn’t need to do it, but the hand on her skin makes it worth it.

“I know.” She says back. “But I’m being polite.”

Georgie snorts. “Polite? You? You made Martin cry in your first week of work.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Melanie takes the hand on chin, and rubs her thumb across the knuckles. She ignores the small pang of loss she feels at his name. She thinks that in a different life they would’ve gotten along, maybe even been friends. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Martin, actually. Well, Martin and Jon.” Georgie said. “I was thinking, and I understand if you disagree, that maybe we could... do something for them? Like a funeral or memorial or something? Maybe even just a headstone or something.”

Melanie opens her mouth to respond, but Georgie rushes in before she speaks.

“And I know you and Jon never got along, but I just think that after everything he deserves it. And even if he doesn’t , Martin certainly does. Even if neither of them deserve it I think it would help. My therapist told me I need closure, and I just thought-“

“Babe, babe, slow down,”Melanie interrupts, “I’d love to. Even if Jon and I... even if he was a bit of a wanker, he did sacrifice himself to end the apocalypse. And. Well, I just think t-that-“

Melanie stutters to stop for a moment to think. Georgie seems to understand that she’s not done, and squeezes her hand. Melanie takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Or after that. It was just me and my dad. When he died, they told me- they told me I couldn’t bury him. I couldn’t even have the ashes. Some bullshit about how he was part of a crime scene, which, looking now, didn’t make any sense. Not that I had enough money or time for a funeral, but... well, any closure would have been nice. I just- I just- I just don’t think I could let anyone close to me go un-un- I don’t know it’s just... it’s just bad.” Melanie winces a bit at her ending.

Georgie doesn’t say anything. Her hand stills from where she was playing with Melanie’s fingers. Melanie realizes a little belatedly, that she’d never talked about her father’s death with Georgie. After all they’d been through it seemed almost silly that Georgie didn’t know.

“And even if Jon was a wanker, Martin certainly wasn’t.” She tacks on in attempt to lighten the mood.

Georgie snorts at that. “Jon was... an acquired taste. He was a lot less uptight in University, but good god sometimes you could actually see the rod in his ass.”

“Hey!” Melanie says in mock offense “don’t speak ill of the dead!”

“You literally just called him a wanker!” Georgie retorts.

“Yeah but I’m allowed to! I don’t like him!” Melanie smacks her arm.

“Anyways. What do you want to do for them?” Georgie says once she stops giggling. “I was thinking a headstone, but that might be too much upkeep.”

“And people may not take kindly to a memorial to ‘The Archivist’ and his plus one.”

“Exactly,” Georgie agrees, “ so out with it. Give me an idea, oh wise prophet.”

Melanie pinches her hand. “Shut it, you. Maybe- maybe like a... bench or something?”

“A bench?” Georgie says teasingly, “that’s the best you’ve got? Not so wise after all.”

“Okay prophet, what have you got?”

“Maybe we could do something here? Like a photo album or something.”

“We don’t have any photos of them.”

“We could, like, write a heartfelt letter and burn it.”

“Maybe.” Melanie says with no small amount of suspicion.

“Okay, fiiiine maybe I don’t have any ideas.” Georgie relents.

They sit in silence for a bit after that. It should be uncomfortable, and probably would have been if it wasn’t Georgie and Melanie. Eventually Georgie gets up to find her phone so they can listen to the next chapter of their book. Melanie tries to lie down in the warm spot Georgie vacated, but The Admiral had already taken up the vacancy.

Melanie’s head lands in his soft fur, and he chirps inquisitively before curling around her head. Melanie buries a hand in his fur, and he rewards her with a content purr.

“Comfortable?” Georgie says when she re-enters the room. Melanie groans.

“Yes yes you fuss pot. Ready for our next chapter?” Georgie sits on the edge of the couch by Melanie’s head, and when she starts to pet her head, Melanie wishes she could purr like The Admiral.

Georgie snorts. “I think I might have a type.”

“And whats that?” Melanie nuzzles further into Georgie’s hand.

“Yeah,” Georgie pokes her cheek, “my type is ‘cats re-incarnated as people’. You can’t tell by looking at him, but Jon would absolutely melt at the slightest hair petting.”

Melanie is just about to protest being compared to Jon when an idea hits her. She sits up abruptly, and she hears Georgie give a little gasp in response.

“That’s it!” Melanie shouts.

“What’s it?” Georgie says, almost as loud.

“I’ve just had a great idea.”

Melanie gives her proposal, and even though she can’t see it, she knows Georgie is smiling the rest of the night.

—————

A week later, Georgie and Melanie walk into their apartment with two boxes. They would have just used one, but they were nervous the little ones would fight in the car ride that Rosie graciously provides them (with the payment of demanding photos).

And so Jon and Martin entered their lives.

One of the kittens is sleek black with golden amber eyes and short hair, and the other is white with blue eyes and so much fluff that he looks three times the size he really is. There were more kittens in the running, but these two were at the top (according to Georgie, they were basically photo copies of their namesakes), but Melanie decided these were the two when the woman at the desk told her they were inseparable.

They were worried about how The Admiral would react to their new additions, but it was proved irrational within three hours. The Admiral seemed to take a liking to them immediately.

“Maybe it really is Jon.” Georgie jokes when she stumbles on the three cuddled together. “Sometimes I thought The Admiral liked him more.”

(That was obviously false; anyone with -or with damaged- eyes could tell The Admiral adored her.)

They barely had to make an adjustment to their routine- the only real difference was the number of bowls during breakfast, and the number of feet that pattered in the halls.

Basira didn’t know what to make of it at first, but Georgie later told her that she stumbled in on Basira apologizing to Jon. Neither of them judge her for it; both of them did the same thing when they got him.

The days stretch to weeks, and the weeks stretch into months. Melanie goes to therapy, and attempts to keep houseplants. Georgie records her podcasts and teases Melanie when she fails to keep a cactus alive. Together they make their home with new cat toys (that The Admiral still refuses to play with), a cat tree (which the Admiral is more than interested in), crotchet throws from Rosie and the occasional mug from Basira.

One morning Melanie wakes to find the last bit of residual anger in her gone, and when she cries Georgie holds her tight.

Melanie loves it so much it hurts, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#the magnus archives #the magnus pod #tma #what the gfs #what the ghost #fanfic #jonmartin #wtgfs #Georgie barker #Melanie king #Melanie is trans #just assume she’s always trans in my fics #this is my first Magnus fic #I didn’t edit this at all #what the girlfriends #Melanie/Georgie

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