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dazais-guardian-angel · 7 months

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Okay, a good amount of time has passed, and after having seen this post by @weretiger-be-my-horse , I've been turning it over and over in my brain going absolutely feral over this concept. I need to expand upon my thoughts on this idea and all the evidence there is pointing towards it, whether that be actual tangible things, or purely strong vibes I have.

First of all, full disclaimer: I did not like the season 5 finale, and how it wrapped up the DoA arc. To say that I "disliked" it is putting it extremely lightly, in fact -- I absolutely hated it, and I am still, to a degree, in disbelief that I actually even watched those 24 minutes with my own two eyes, and that it somehow wasn't a complete fever dream. While I'm not going to go in long-winded detail into all the ways that I feel like the finale almost completely bastardized all of its featured characters and destroyed any and all buildup we've had going on in this arc for 50 some chapters now, because that's not the main point of this post, I will not make any attempt to hide the fact that the theory-crafting I'm about to pose here is partly influenced and prompted by how much I hated the finale, and how much I desperately hope that it will not end up being manga canon. Therefore, if you enjoyed the finale — and that's fine! — and don't want to read any negativity about it, then I would not recommend reading any further (I mean, you've probably already left by this point, which is fair lol), While obviously it's important that I be as objective and unbiased as possible when explaining my thoughts, some of my negative feelings about the writing will be a part of this analysis, even if this isn't going to be a full-blown rant. Just know that if you proceed.

With that out of the way, let me continue.

So. In the aforementioned post, the theory presented is that the anime may be operating on an alternate timeline, and that this will become evident once we read the upcoming October chapter, wherein things will go completely differently post-chapter 110 than they do in the final episode — probably for the worse, with the s5 finale intending to lull us into a false sense of security and make us assume that everything in the manga arc finale will wrap up as smoothly and consequence-freely(? lol) as it did in the anime one. It also suggests that the Fukuchi we see at the very end that sskk are fighting came from the manga timeline, where he won, and that he used the Book to jump to a timeline where he lost, the anime one, proven by the fact that this Fukuchi is wearing a mask with the same design on it as the mask Fukuchi is wearing on the chapter 110 DoA color spread/title page.

First of all, I want to note the fact that it's not just the mask design that's the same: the entire outfit is roughly more or less the same as well. It's not completely 1-to-1, because the anime can never fully match the intricacies of Harukawa's beautiful outfit designs, and the Fukuchi in this scene has the kimono half-off because of the... super saiyan mode he's in, but most all of the main pieces of clothing are there. Any small inaccuracies could also be attributed to the fact that Harukawa probably didn't have this finalized art ready back when this episode was being made, so the animators wouldn't have had the complete design to work off of. But in general, because it's all so similar, I think we can quite confidently say that the ending episode Fukuchi is meant to be the one from this manga art.

Also, people have pointed this out, but it's worth mentioning that the mask Asagiri wore at Anime Expo in July was referencing this Fukuchi. It's not a crucial detail, but it just proves more that Asagiri is a gigantic fucking troll, and that he clearly wanted to draw attention to this Fukuchi design. It's important. He describes the mask here as made in the motif of an ellipses inside a speech bubble... could that perhaps be referencing meta aspects, like the Book?

Next, I want to talk about the even bigger elephant in the room, which to me is the most damning and undeniable piece of evidence there is of the anime operating on a completely separate timeline from the manga:

This Fucking Hand™️

As we all know, in the anime, Fyodor injures his hand when the password input device blows up, and as we all know, this does not happen in the manga. In the last episode, Dazai claims that the final nail in the coffin of his impromptu plan to kill Fyodor relied on this hand injury: because Fyodor couldn't pilot his escape helicopter himself, he would ask one of his Meursault vampires to do it for him, unaware that Bram and thus this vampire was now on the ADA's side, and said vampire could kill him while his guard was down.

Ignoring how utterly stupid and contrived this plan is when you stop and think about it for more than two seconds, the fact of the matter is that something that initially seemed like nothing more than an odd but inconsequential anime original addition ended up snowballing into being the entire reason one of the big bads was brought down. If Fyodor hadn't hurt his hand, he wouldn't have needed another pilot, and so the traitor vampire wouldn't have had an opportunity to get near him and kill him without him expecting it even though said vampire was presumably with him as they were leaving Meursault, and was probably already a traitor by then, so there was plenty opportunity for him to still die. not to mention by Chuuya's hands at literally any time he wanted to, because Chuuya was coherent the whole time. Also there's absolutely no way Dazai could have known exactly what Ranpo would do, no matter how smart he is and how much he trusts him. idk it's fucking dumb, just roll with it. Therefore, putting aside all other variables for now, we can conclude that, on the most basic level, this signifies that no hand wound = no death.

And let me tell you, this hand wound bothers me. It really, really does. Because they focus on it a LOT — they go out of their way to draw attention to it MULTIPLE TIMES, from the moment it first happens to the end of the season. Fyodor even talks about it to himself, about Dazai being able to cause him tangible, visible, bodily harm, (something that, again, as far as we've seen, has never happened in the manga). Hell, even after Fyodor's death, they're still drawing attention to it, because his right arm is all of him that survives, and Dazai picks it up and gives it to Nikolai to do his hilarious sad little gay fondling of it played completely straight even though there's nothing straight going on here at all! It's like it's a big red flashing sign at all times going "you see this injured hand? This is important. Are you picking up that it's important? Are you taking note of it?" Why is that? Obviously, it serves to give us the lore crumbs about Fyodor and "that man", but that's hardly the main, much more glaring reason, as I've already mentioned.

Fyodor doesn't hurt his hand in the manga. Fyodor won't die here in the manga. I am so dead serious by this point about this, and it's not just simply the fact that this was absolutely not at all the time for him to die, or the fact that his hand is the reason for his death in the anime in and of itself, but how much EMPHASIS they place on this, and on the hand in general. What would be the point of adding something like this, if it's not meant to alert us to the fact that it has a major impact on how the story plays out? We all know Bones: they struggle to get right and include everything that's already there in the source material; they would never go out of their way to add something this noteworthy if there wasn't a very good reason for it, if it wasn't absolutely necessary. I've seen a few people bring up the fact that Fyodor gets shot in the shoulder by Sigma and that that could lead to the same outcome in the manga, but I disagree: although he has blood on his shoulder in the manga, it seems like the bullet just grazed the top of it, because his arm and hand appears completely functional afterwards (not hanging limp by his side or anything). But that doesn't even matter, because this isn't even about the semantics/logistics of how the hand wound caused Fyodor's death because again, it's a stupid outcome, or what could serve as a substitute in the manga — thematically, this is a textbook example of the butterfly effect. Countless parallel universes exist within this series, ones where even the most minute differences lead to a majorly different outcome: this just happens to be one of them. There's no reason to think it isn't, and there's no reason to not think that the anime wants us to clue into the fact that things only went as smoothly as they did on the Meursault side because of this wound; in other words, that things will go very differently in the manga thanks to the absence of said wound. They wouldn't have added it in the first place and put such clearly deliberate emphasis on it otherwise.

Things are going to happen very differently in the manga, at least when it comes to the Meursault crew (but then, if you assume that, you then naturally assume it all will be very different). This is the only conclusion one can come to with the presentation of this anime-only wound, combined with the fact that parallel universes are a very real thing in BSD.

I'm going to go on a bit of a tangent, so bear with me. I play a lot of visual novels, and although such concepts aren't really as original now as they were a while ago, some of my favorite and some of the very best VNs out there are the ones that break the fourth wall and make the visual novel branching route format directly intertwined with the story: you know, the ones where the characters go "if only I had done things differently, maybe everything would have turned out better...!" in a wink wink nudge nudge moment, and the ones where the characters are aware of the different timelines, even, or even have the ability to gain information from their selves in said alternate timelines to influence events in their current one (I'm intentionally not naming the games I'm thinking of for the sake of spoilers, but if you know, you know lmao). It gets very meta in this regard, and this is how I started viewing BSD through the lens of ever since I first learned about Beast: like a visual novel with many branching routes, and only a few routes that feel entirely "right".

When I first read Dazai's Entrance Exam, I was struck by how unnerving the ending sequence in the abandoned hospital felt. Obviously, Kunikida's internal struggle over Sasaki's actions and motives is him still desperately clinging to his ideal world that does not exist, but the specific type of phrases he uses — "who is wrong?" "[who is] the cause of all this?" "there has to be an ideal world" "there has to be something, I'm sure of it" "There must have been something we could have done!" — and the framing of the scene in general, is eerily reminiscent of a bad ending in a visual novel, to me. There's a haunting, looming, bleak sense that a different outcome could have been achieved, if different decisions had been made, or if things outside of anyone's control had been different... and we know that this is true, because in Beast alone, Kunikida never goes through the Azure Messenger incident, because Dazai doesn't have his entrance exam. Hell, you could even consider the anime's version of the Azure Messenger arc an alternate timeline in of itself, if you really wanted to, long before we even arrive at season 5.

When it comes to Beast, this timeline has almost the opposite feeling of what I described above, that I've also encountered in visual novels: the idea of a "good route" or "good ending" that still doesn't feel quite earned, or as perfect as one would expect. Beast is presented as the "ideal" timeline purely for one sole reason: Oda is alive. It is the only timeline where he's alive, and keeping Oda alive is the ultimate goal Dazai wants to achieve, the only reason this timeline exists; therefore, disregarding all else, Beast should be the best timeline, because Oda's death is the greatest devastation in the series to date. We all want him to live, so why wouldn't the timeline where he does be the best one? And yet... of course, it isn't. Dazai is alone, and steeped in darkness and loneliness without Oda, and dies by the end of the story for Oda's continued living. Atsushi has Kyouka still, but he's suffering and more traumatized, and unable to heal while stuck in the mafia, and neither can Kyouka. Akutagawa is living a much better life in the ADA... but without his sister, and without what he has from his bond with Atsushi in canon, that isn't replicated in Beast. And Oda... Oda is alive, and he has his children and his novel, but there is a feeling that he is aimless, that something in his life is missing. He has everything he ever wanted, but all that means nothing without what he truly needs: Dazai, and his time with Dazai and Ango at the bar. In this way, things going well and us getting what we want — in this case, Oda living — goes against how it's supposed to be, the natural order, which is why it feels so hollow. In the specific visual novel I'm thinking of here as a comparison (again, shoutout if you know), there's an alternate ending that involves you inputting information you gain at the end of the game very early on in the game, wherein the protagonist now has memories of the future and is able to bypass and prevent all of the events that take place normally. This means that people who die or are hurt somehow in general are saved from that fate, and nothing bad ever occurs; everything wraps up neatly and nicely... but again, there's an undeniable, unsettling feeling of emptiness, of a victory that rings hollow, because what's the point if everything is simply handed to you easily, where's the sense of accomplishment, without any struggles to achieve said victories, or any growth along the way? How can it feel earned if one doesn't have to, in Dazai's words, "scream within the storm of uncertainty, and run with flowing blood"?

You can probably already see where I'm going with this.

This finale feels weird. Really, really weird. It feels too cheap, too simple, too unsatisfying. So much so, in fact, that for almost the entire runtime, as I was bombarded with resolution upon resolution one after another, I kept thinking "There's no way this can be real. Where's the catch? When is the "gotcha!" moment gonna happen? The "it was all a dream" reveal?". And this isn't just because I hated the writing, and that it really did feel like a fever dream watching fanfic levels of bad (actually, that's an insult to fanfic writers, tbh; they could do better) — no, it genuinely feels so incredibly fake. Even upon rewatching it and already knowing what happens, my brain still naturally keeps expecting some kinda of "sike, you THOUGHT!" moment to suddenly appear. It just.... feels "too good to be true". Dazai and Chuuya come out unscathed, and it's revealed that they were never in any real danger to begin with. Fyodor, one of our biggest threats, is dealt with supposedly for good (I say "supposedly" only because of the Jesus line, but if anything imo, I think that's just a hint that this won't be the canon ending in the manga, so in a sense he's going to "come back to life"), and Nikolai seems somewhat at peace with his death. The other biggest threat, Fukuchi, is also dealt with, and he and Fukuzawa get their final moment together of closure. Yes, Sigma is left in Meursault don't even get me started on how angry this alone makes me, and Fukuzawa loses Fukuchi, but overall, everything is portrayed in a positive light, and any negatives or losses are quickly glossed over. Everything is tied up nicely, neatly, and smoothly. ...And that is exactly what makes it feel so wrong, and hard to trust in.

I'm not sure if this will make sense, but to me, the finale is so incredibly poorly written that it almost feels.... intentional. It's so bad to the point of feeling self-aware in how bad it is, how unrealistically happy and convenient an ending it is. It had to end this neatly in order to rush to wrap up this arc for the season finale and not leave the last episode on a cliffhanger — which imo is chiefly the main reason it turned out this way, and, if this whole theory is true, Asagiri just used it to his advantage — and I'm not saying this was probably an effect Bones had in mind intentionally, I'm sure they just threw shit at the wall and went with whatever stuck, maaaaybe with some suggestions/approval from Asagiri, but the result is that you have a conclusion that contradicts so much of what was set up before and goes against so many character arcs, making some characters so out of character and even regressing in their development Dazai. I'm talking about Dazai abandoning Sigma, because he would never; hashtag #NOTMYDAZAI. Also Nikolai, Nikolai for most of that is so ooc I can't even begin to describe it oh my god. Everyone is OOC to a degree though lmao, and opens so many plot holes, to the point that it's impossible not to watch all that and get the feeling that it is subtly saying to you "did you really think it could be this easy? It feels wrong, doesn't it? It doesn't feel satisfying. It feels unearned." I find it incredibly interesting and suspicious in particular that they confirmed multiple theories people had about soukoku in Meursault: that Chuuya slowed the elevator's fall so that Dazai wouldn't die from it, that Chuuya slowed down the bullet so that it only penetrated Dazai's skin and not his skull, and that the both of them used Fyodor's camera angle to their advantage because they knew he wouldn't be able to see certain things from his view. I'm not saying that Asagiri trawled BSD twitter and tumblr after those chapters dropped for the most popular theories before the final episode was made lmao, there was no time for that (imagine though lol—), but I do think it's highly likely that he already had in mind exactly what theories would be made about these parts (I mean, the evidence for the gun scene was all there), and that Dazai rattling them off in his long monologue to Fyodor at the end is essentially him speaking to the audience and going "yeah, that's what you would predict, right? Those are the clichés, after all", much like him suggesting earlier that he can maybe bring Chuuya back to himself with a few moving words and the power of friendship, and Fyodor using the split personalities trope to fool Sigma. We expect these tropes to be true. Of course we'd fall for them, as Fyodor tells Sigma, especially if the evidence is right there. But Asagiri himself has explicitly said that he likes doing the opposite of what people expect. And so just because people predicted correctly with the three things I mentioned in this timeline... doesn't mean they'll be true in the manga's. Things happened how we wanted and expected it to, and everything turned out happily. So we can relax now, right? Everything will work out just as easily in the manga, right? Or... is the reason most of this finale feels so fake and unsettling and unsatisfying because it's meant to lull us into a false sense of security before all our heroes lose in the manga? Because deep down, we don't want an ending that's this simple, because we'd rather have a conclusion where our characters have struggled more and grown more and come out the better for it, and we know it?

After rewatching the episode a lot, and watching some other videos, and doing a lot of thinking, I am pretty confident in suspecting that the only part of this finale that is actually from manga canon, aside from Aya jumping off the building of course, is Fyodor and Nikolai's exchange after Fyodor leaves Meursault — specifically, them talking about Fyodor leaving Sigma behind, and their "new game" and Nikolai being excited at the prospect of it. This little conversation actually feels in character for them, and it's easy to tell this when contrasting it with everything that happens immediately after, wherein Fyodor is fatally stabbed, and Nikolai, completely at odds with what he was just talking about, just... stands there and watches Fyodor die while Dazai monologues lmao. I'm not sure if the helicopter is still a factor, but I would bet good money on Fyolai getting out of Meursault being manga canon, and that Dazai and Chuuya getting out as well and killing Fyodor + everything with FukuFuku, is part of the anime original ending, in order to wrap up everything positively. It makes much more sense if you think about, in reality (aka in the manga), Dazai and Chuuya still being left behind in Meursault (where they can eventually try to get Sigma), because none of it was an act and things did not go according to plan, and Fukuchi having an entirely different goal that doesn't feel so stupid and contradictory to his character, and Fukuzawa possibly dying — everyone seemingly loses, with Aya still being the last hope, perhaps by awakening her ability like we all speculated.

There's a youtuber I watch who covers BSD in-depth, despite being an anime-only (she reads the respective manga content after each season, though). Going into this finale, she knew about the fact that the anime had overtaken the manga, though she didn't know where the cutoff point was; despite that, however, she made predictions about what was from the manga so far and what was anime original, and it was almost entirely spot-on, based mostly on what she basically described as "anime original dialogue." She talked about how you can always tell when dialogue is veering into the realm of anime-original, because the sentences are very short, choppy, and slightly out of character, but generic enough to not be TOO out of character, and so that anyone can easily write said lines, even if they're not extremely familiar with the character like the original author would be. And when I heard this explanation, everything clicked — because so much of this finale has dialogue like that. The Fyolai scenes just feel peppered with it, around the lines I mentioned earlier, the Dazai dialogue does too, and ESPECIALLY shit at the end like Fukuchi and Fukuzawa exchanging the cliche death lines to end all death lines: "Are you there? I'm a little tired." "Rest up." That just isn't Bungou Stray Dogs. That isn't Asagiri. BSD is cheesy at times, yes, but it isn't like this; it's smarter. The dialogue is smarter, the explanations/plot twists are smarter, Asagiri is smarter, and the aforementioned youtuber I watched agreed. She's a pretty casual fan of the series, so if even she could pick up on these things, I think it speaks volumes.

I mentioned this briefly earlier, but this theory makes sense if you consider that this situation probably came about because of Bones wanting two seasons back-to-back when they did, and this arc being as long as it is. Season 3 aired in 2019, and I imagine Bones would have wanted season 4 in 2020, and might have then been willing to wait a bit longer for season 5 in order for more of this arc's manga chapters to come out — but then covid happened. Because of that, season 4 was delayed to 2023, creating the longest gap we've had between seasons, and I wouldn't at all be surprised if the delay made them want season 5 right together with it, after getting so far "behind", so to speak. S4 was announced in November of 2021, and roughly around that time, Asagiri was finishing up writing the plot of the DoA arc. If Bones came to him sometime in late 2021 and said they wanted two seasons now (so basically, one giant two cour season), Asagiri would know that not only of course would this arc not be finished publishing in the manga for a very long time yet, but that roughly 20ish episodes would not be enough to cover it all to the end, with this arc being longer than any arc the anime has adapted to date. Because of all this, and the arc manga chapters being nowhere near fully drawn to completion, he'd have to make a decision about what to do, and what to give Bones. Without ending season 5 on a massive cliffhanger that wouldn't be resolved for years until an eventual season 6, the only other option would be to rush towards an anime-original ending for the DoA arc.... and for Asagiri to take advantage of that, and integrate it into BSD's lore. Thereby creating a truly unique cross-media experience that utilizes the different mediums to create multiple timelines, that could make both the anime and manga interact with each other and become part of a bigger picture (not that you'd need to see both to get the full experience, mind you, just that it'd provide a little bonus if you did).... and would without a doubt be Asagiri's biggest surprise yet.

...I feel like at this point I'm starting to ramble, and my evidence become more and more incoherent and less substantial lmao, so I should probably end this post. 💀 Thank you if you've read this far, and hopefully it made some semblance of sense, despite not being structured very well; I know I promised at the start to try to be as objective as possible and curb my negative feelings, but I'm not sure how well I succeeded in that regard. If it weren't for the Fukuchi thing and the Fyodor hand thing, I probably wouldn't take how wrong and strange and bad the finale feels to me as serious evidence about it being an alternate timeline, especially since I seem to be one of the only people who actually hates all of it.... but combined with everything else, I am just so convinced of this theory being true. It started off as pure copium, but as more time has gone on, I fully, 100% believe in my bones (ha) that there is no way that finale is the same Bungou Stray Dogs I know and love, for so many reasons. It just isn't. It can't be. I know BSD better than this, I know Asagiri better than this, and I know that it's absolutely in the realm of possibility for him to cook up this whole scheme to completely blindside us with in the upcoming chapters, because that's exactly the kind of shit Mr. "Please Be Surprised!" himself would pull. If I end up being completely wrong, I guess I'm wrong, and you can laugh at me all you want then.... but I just know that ages ago people were teasing the idea of the anime operating on a different timeline from the manga, and I truly do think that only now are we finally seeing that idea come to fruition, as a setup for Asagiri going full-bore insanity with the Book in the upcoming arc(s). if I and the OP of that theory end up right, this will be the wildest time in the BSD fandom's history.

Like. I cannot even emphasize how hard they are trolling us at this point. Something is going on. Something is being cooked over there, the likes of which we've never seen before... and I don't think any of us are ready for it.

Oh yeah, and one last thing of note: both Fyodor and Nikolai here have their right arms hidden from view. Is that alluding to anything? I'm not sure. I also think that since chapter 110 was so short, next chapter will likely be 110.5 instead of 111, and if that's the case, this title spread could still technically be associated with the next chapter... wherein we might see this Fukuchi, who ends up wreaking havoc, right before he jumps to the timeline in the anime, as we see him at the end of the s5 finale.

I guess we'll find out on Tuesday.

#bungou stray dogs #meta #bsd season 5 #bsd s5 spoilers #alternatively titled 'when you copium so hard out of stewing in your denial anger and grief that it becomes reality'#is it still copium if there's strong evidence for it? idk #i DON'T know what i'll do if the stuff in this finale ends up being canon :))) make no mistake about that #but until the very moment the schrödinger's cat box is opened and i am forced to acknowledge it with my own two eyes in chapter 111/110.5 #i am choosing to stay calm and rational and look at things with a sound mind... and acknowledge all the signs that are there #of which there are so many #Asagiri is a troll. he has always been a troll and this is more evident than ever lately #and he would know that everyone who watched the finale would take it at face value #never expecting it to go completely differently in the manga #and he's so much smarter than what was in that finale. he would never write those things. i would stake my life on it.#i don't care how many flaws BSD does have that i do acknowledge; he is a good writer in so many ways and he is so much better than /that/#i could fill an entire BOOK (ha ha) with all of the reasons why this finale does not work. seriously it is a never-ending can of worms #of ooc characterizations and plot holes and abandoned threads and straight up CONTRADICTIONS with what has been stated before in the arc #with fukuchi's motivations and presentation; with things that were happening in meursault; just.... so much illogical shit in general #THE MACHINE HEALED THEIR WOUNDS??? ARE YOU FOR REAL????#*sigh* but i said i wasn't gonna rant alskdjgfkdls #tbh though the only REAL thing i need to know that the finale was anime only was what the youtuber i watch pointed out:#that Bram magically regenerated all his clothes. because if it were Asagiri Bram would be naked from the shoulders down fjdkslsaskd #...anyway. This theory is real and true. I am manifesting it into existence 🙏🙏🙏#Asagiri my man...... you have never let me down yet in all the years I've known your series. Please don't let me down now.#I'm trusting in you more than ever right now...... and your ability to blow all our minds in the best possible way #(guys i'm really really really scared deep down; please hold me hahaha ahahahahaaaa- *cries*)#this would the coolest thing in the history of ever though if it happened though. I am SO EXCITED FOR THE POSSIBILITY!!!!!#ASAGIRI YOU SICK AND TWISTED MF; HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME BEG FOR MY FAVES TO SUFFER JUST SO THAT THIS BAD WRITING DOESN'T BECOME REALITY!!!!!!#he knows exactly what he's doing *SCREAMS* :))))))))

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oatbugs · 2 years

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its okay now im here now its okay now im here now

#wiped off my makeup turned off thr lights started laughing without knowing why then i felt some of the tears inside my eyes force #their way out any way they could . you have a million and one reasons to be afraid . scalpels will restructure your face soon #in the womb of the city you havent seen for a decade in the belly of a country you may never come back from . death is not the fear but the #pain before it is. a month or two of epistomological torture before i am either free or i am not.#you stare at a shattered identity and grab a needle and sew your teeth shut in case this repetition bores anyone.#shattered it all over a boy who wants to shatter a bottle of vodka every time he picks one up，which is quite often.#take to the skies alone for the city of art and canals and cats and tired teenagers and philosophy with a dime and a half.#they had your number and you still care for them and you pressed the button of no return because they wrecked your lungs. they still #have your number. they still have your number. they still have your number. academic values and an unacademic work ethic feels like #the most unfaithful act of all. maybe id like to kiss his collarbones or maybe id like to kiss him because he does what i may #lose everything to do. soon a room full of researchers creating brains from love and flying fingers and letters on a screen #and a beating quartz heart. what you are now is what you would have killed another human being in cold blood for. you stand up and walk out #and you say i am brokenhearted and they surround you before you fall and you would have covered yourself in your #life's worth of blood for this all. but look at me. look at your mind. look at us. remember you and A and all her gold in the kitchen #and remember the way she started crying and there was never a thought of her guards or her jewels or impeccable taste in perfumes.#you looked at her in the eyes and you held her and you said #its okay now . im here now. its okay now.#look at yourself in the eyes again. youre not okay. but im here now. its okay now. im here now. youre here now. were here now. youre not #okay but you live for the summer and spring. im here now. its okay now.#who would you like dead?#tomorrow you will wakeup early to feed her before we buy groceries. who would you like dead?

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junewild · 2 years

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nevermind, griefposting is cancelled because after

1. planning to drive back home together this weekend (a plan he suggested and invited me to) for two weeks, and

2. planning to hang out tonight and go climbing tomorrow morning together, and

3. spending two weeks talking about how honest we were being with each other and how much we were hanging onto the last of our time together and savoring the moment,

j told me he was packing the car tonight because we were both going to be busy tomorrow, and then sat me down and said he did not want to drive back together and i should find my own way home and that he was leaving to stay with a friend tonight. so.

#personal #i am like... so angry i'm speechless lmao. i didn't know he was capable of being such a colossal asshole #like he lied to me! to my face! i don't think he's ever done that before. he's omitted the truth and avoided conflict etc but he's never #lied directly to me like that #and he doesn't even have the good grace to help me get back? like he's not offering to help w plane fare or anything? or take any of my #stuff back with him? like?#and he had the fucking temerity to text my mom to call me and make sure that i'm okay after he left? like? don't pretend you care about me #because you clearly do not lmao #AND he said he still wants to see each other over the summer and be partners but like? how is this not a relationship-killer?#how is this not salting the earth on the way out to him?#does he not realize what a colossally asshole move this is or does he not care or?#this is literally the worst thing he's ever done to me? or possibly to anyone? like i genuinely did not think he had it in him to be this #much of an absolute douchebag #remember that am i the manager post that was like 'i packed up all my belongings and moved without a word to my partner while she was in a #foreign country'#*ask the manager #this is slightly not as bad as that but still like. what in the fucking hell.#if you've made it to the end of these tags: why? are you okay? but also i have a plane ticket for myself and i am trying to figure out how #to get my cat home/how to get her cared for while i'm gone #and a ride to the airport and help figuring out the logistics between now and then #don't worry i'm going to be okay #i will not even kill myself purely to spite him because i know it actually would ruin his life a little bit

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maiko-san · 3 months

Text

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 1 )

Part 2 >>>

Relationship : Fluff

Reader : Female, age 20.

Plot : You are one of the Playcare employees that looks after the Smiling Critters and makes sure all the mascots are in good shape.

The very first day you were assigned to the Playcare, you didn't expect the mascot to be huge and very tall. Hell, even taller than Huggy Wuggy themselves!

You were nervous to be around these mascots but it was your job to keep them at a top notch.

Dogday, the leader of the smiling critters was the first to greet you. His personality is as bright as the sun necklace around his neck.

The others follow his lead and greet you with smiles on their faces, welcoming you to the daycare.

Well, except one.

Which was Catnap.

The purple cat mascot is high up on one of the buildings, watching everything from above and his eyes looking down at you, judging you from afar.

For the first week, you monitor the smiling critters and their behaviours. The others are fine interacting with the children, except for Catnap who prefers to be on his own.

You tried to get the cat to do his job but the mascot refused to listen to you. Which was frustrating.

You were amazed that the technology in place is far more advanced and the mascots in this Playtime Co. have their own personalities like a real person would which was..... intriguing and at the same time.... terrifying.

According to Dogday, Catnap used to be very friendly but he had been distancing himself from the group recently.

He never knows why.

The supervisor told you that Catnap was the most troublesome in the group and they said to keep an eye on the cat and make sure he does his work and doesn't get in any trouble.

It would take time for you to properly work with him. So, you respect the mascot's boundaries and try interacting with him slowly.

Day by day, you make sure to visit him first every time your shift starts. you greet Catnap with a 'Good morning' and 'How are you doing?'.

The cat only stares at you with a swishing tail, you set down a bag of croissants and look up at the mascot.

"Hey, Catnap! If you're hungry, you can have these croissants! Eat it while it's still fresh, okay bud. You can't work with an empty stomach!"

"......"

Again, he just stares at you.

You also learn that these mascots are able to consume organic matter which again shocks you, so you always sneak in some food from the cafe for all the smiling critters, in secret.

The smiling critters began to like you and saw you as their favourite out of all the employees.

Things go on normally in the daycare, the smiling critters keep themselves busy with the children ( that you weren't allow to interact with )

You spend your time in the office and look through the papers. When you were about to take a sip of the hot drink from your cup—

"Hiya, there! Mrs. (L/n)!"

"Oh, f—k!"

You jump out from your seat and some of the hot drink spilled onto your pants causing you to curse under your breath.

It was Dogday.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!"

The dog apologises for startling you and offers you a handkerchief that magically appears out of thin air.

You said you were alright. You turn to ask what makes Dogday come to your office.

The smiling critter just said he wants to see you, saying to you that you have been coup up in your office for hours now.

You were grateful that he was concerned about you but you told him that the papers kept you busy.

"Sorry, bud. I just have a lot of papers to look through. Ya know, I have to keep all of you in shape"

"I see. Thank you for caring and taking care of us angel........unlike the others—anyways!"

Dogday whispers the last part which cannot be heard clearly by you.

"Do you need help with anything? I'm free! I can help you with everything and as a leader of the Smiling Critters, it is also my job to help you too!"

Dogday offers a helping hand, his tail swishing as he awaits for your answers.

You told him you do need help sorting out the papers into the folders which the dog excitedly said yes.

He sits on the floor next to you, since how tall he is. You point out the paper that he needs to sort out in the correct order.

Dogday have trouble picking up the papers with his large hands. You couldn't help but stifle at the sight, yet he managed to find a way of picking up the paper without crumpling it.

After a few hours passed. The bell rings loudly, signalling it was recess time.

You stretch your limbs and stand up from your chair, you turn to Dogday who already finished sorting out all the papers.

"You did a great job there, Dogday. Thank you!"

"Hehe, no problem Mrs. (L/n)! Glad to help!"

"Just call me, (Y/n). Dogday. No need to be so formal and besides I'm not THAT old..."

"Alright, (Y/n)!"

You yawn escape your mouth as you rub your eye, a nice nap is the only thing that comes to your mind after a long hour of paperwork.

Dogday notices how tired you look.

"A good nap will make you feel energetic afterwards!"

"Yeah, it does. I'm going to the staffroom and sleep there. You can go back to the playcare, Dogday"

But the orange dog didn't leave and instead picks you up which surprises you.

Dogday held you close to his body and said.

"No need! You can sleep here with me!"

His arms wrap around your smaller body, your face buried into his chest and his fur smells like vanilla. Which was comforting....

Before you know it, you already drift off to sleep.

"Sleep well, angel...."

Next day.

Following the same routine, you visit Catnap again but the cat was nowhere in sight.

You call out for the feline and you hear a loud thud behind you. Hot breath tickles your back which causes you to quickly turn around to see the purple cat staring at you with beady white eyes.

You hold out an apple pie to him, which the cat takes and devours with a wide open mouth.

"I want....more"

"Huh?"

"More....sweets..."

It was the first time you heard Catnap speak, his voice was deep and distorted.

You now have learned that Catnap likes sweets. Which gives you quite an advantage over him.

"Yes, you can have more sweets.....If you do your job"

You told the cat which he grunts roughly in return.

"You can request any kind of sweets you want in return, I promise. Just as long you do your job as a play care attendant"

Catnap seemingly thinking about the deal that you had offered to him. The sweets seems to get to him since he never gets to eat such food....

It was tempting and he finally agrees with you.

"Okay..."

With that simple okay, Catnap begins to do his job in the play care to Dogday's delight.

After the shift is over, you give Catnap his sweet treats as you promised.

"Haha! See, it wasn't that hard, right! You did a great job there, Catnap! If you keep doing that, I might bake you a cake!"

You praised the feline mascot with a bright smile. Which causes the feline to look away slightly.

The feeling of praise makes his heart flutter with warmth.....

It was a very long day at work and you bid the smiling critters a good night before you leave the playcare.

Unknown to you, some of the higher ups have noticed how well you do with the Smiling Critters.

You are safe....

For now....

A/n : There will be more interaction with Catnap in the next chapter! I am aware that Catnap is Theo which is a child!

I am not sure who resides in Dogday and he might be one of the employees of the playcare since he knows so much.

Relationship between the three would be fluff. If romance, it could be focused on Dogday maybe...?

Well, it's up to you guys.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #catnap #dogday x reader #catnap x reader #smiling critters #poppy playtime x reader #various x reader #fluff

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jobean12-blog · 3 months

Text

Next Door to Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 3,188

Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.

Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!

Last week

Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.

You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.

Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.

The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.

Oh hi neighbor.

Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.

You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.

His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.

He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.

“Can I help you doll?”

“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”

“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. “Lucky me.”

You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.

“I’ll take care of ya doll.”

With a wink he holds up one long finger.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”

He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.

You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.

Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.

“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”

You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.

“Ah, of course he likes you.”

You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.

“Thank you….?”

“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”

“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.

You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”

“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”

“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”

His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.

The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”

“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”

Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”

Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.

“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”

You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.

“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”

He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.

“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”

You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”

He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.

“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”

He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.

“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”

He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”

“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.

“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Would you say yes if I were?”

Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.

Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.

Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.

“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”

“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.

Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.

“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”

You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.

The next morning you get another text from him.

“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”

“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.

“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”

“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”

“Just you…”

“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”

“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”

“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”

He sends a wink face.

“Is it Saturday yet?”

“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”

“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”

“Have a good day Bucky.”

“You too doll…stay dry.”

You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.

The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Oh doll. Look at you.”

He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.

“Soaked,” you say sadly.

“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”

The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.

“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”

He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.

“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”

He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.

“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”

His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.

“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.

He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.

“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.

“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”

“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.

With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”

“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”

“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.

Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.

“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”

The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.

“Oh I like that,” you whisper.

He does it again.

“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”

His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.

“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.

“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.

“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.

A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.

When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.

He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.

You tremble.

“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.

“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“See you later Bucky.”

“I’m counting on it doll.”

You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.

Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.

“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”

“It’s really Saturday!”

“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”

“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”

“What kinds of things….?”

“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”

You can almost hear his groan through the phone.

“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”

Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.

“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.

It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.

“He’s at least a nine.”

Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.

“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.

The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.

“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”

“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”

“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.

“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”

Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.

“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.

“I’m right here,” you say.

Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.

“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.

However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”

Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”

“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”

“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.

“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.

“You didn’t shave.”

He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.

“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.

“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”

Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.

Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.

“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.

When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.

The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.

The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.

“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”

After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.

As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.

“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.

“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.

“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.

He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”

You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.

His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.

You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.

With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.

“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.

His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.

“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.

His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.

“Please, Bucky,” you pant.

“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes fanfictionn #bucky barnes x y/n #neighbor!bucky barnes #neighbor au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #neighbor!bucky x reader

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sixosix · 4 months

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PDA W/ WANDERER — fluff

Admittedly, you were one of the many people who thought that Wanderer recoiled at the thought of even holding hands in public. Yet, you realized you were so wrong not even a week after dating him.

It wasn’t exactly holding hands, but he insisted on keeping an arm snaked around your waist or over your shoulders. You could find yourself distracted, and you wouldn’t stumble into anyone, with him navigating you through crowds with his hands on you.

You took advantage of this a lot.

“Watch where you’re going,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, Kuni.” But you still kept your eyes fixed on the book, and he didn’t comment on it again. He simply slid his hands down to your waist and led you himself. He didn’t like admitting it, but he liked taking care of you.

It was nice. Touchier than you expected, but it was not uncharacteristic for him. He did seem like the type—somewhat handsy but in the most endearing way possible.

Yet when he kissed you in public, that was when you started piecing it all together. It was short but long enough for his hands to have moved to your cheeks to deepen it. You could feel eyes and even hear gasps around, but he didn’t pull away until you seemed out of breath from holding it in surprise.

There was also when he reached for your hand and kissed the back of your palm, an old lady nearby cooed and said, “What a cute couple you are!”

Wanderer had damn preened and was smirking the whole way back home. Like— like a dog that had been told how a good boy he was. Or a cat who was fawned at for catching a fish.

“Are you actually into PDA?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“What?” Wanderer looked really cute, with his brows furrowed like that. “What’s that?”

“You know, kissing in public. Holding hands in public. Affection in public.”

Wanderer raised a brow. “Why does it matter?”

What does that mean? It was a very Wanderer-like answer, but that didn’t satisfy you.

Maybe he found joy in showing off that he was your boyfriend. That seemed absurd enough to be true. Maybe he didn’t care about the attention that came with PDA. Maybe—

Wanderer stared at you incredulously. “Was this seriously what’s been bothering you the whole week?”

You huffed. “It wasn’t bothering me! Your answer was just really vague.”

“So it was bothering you,” he deadpanned, pinching your cheek long enough to make you whine. “Didn’t I already say so? Why does it matter?”

“That’s not a good answer—”

He kissed the pout of your lips. “It doesn’t matter to me if it’s in public or if we’re in the privacy of your room. If I want to kiss you, then I’ll kiss you. Isn’t that an answer enough?”

You flushed, and he flashed a victorious smile. Wanderer can be so romantic without meaning to be.

#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #wanderer fluff #genshin impact #kunikuzushi x you

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avtrbee · 9 months

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the prince

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig

✢ a/n: i’m not gonna lie to you guys, i know i’ve been a while and im really ashamed that i come back with something that i believe this isn’t my best work at all. i had this prompt in my head for a long time and i have wanted to publish this ever since. always love hearing from all of you and i’d like to get some feedback as well <33

You were a clan kid fortunate enough to be born with the clan’s cursed technique but unfortunate enough to be a woman. Your childhood tutors had drilled the duties of wives in your head, and had made you comfortable with the idea of an arranged marriage. You pride yourself as a good traditional daughter, whose greatest honor would be marrying your husband.

Never in your life did you imagine yourself caring for a child that is not yours.

That was, of course, until you met your husband.

You have heard of Gojo Satoru before and fought him a few times during sister-school events, but never in your life did you think he’d be who you were destined for. Still, he surprised you.

“You are my wife, my equal,” he promises you at the night of your wedding. The ceremony was over and the guests have gone home. You have said your vows in front of the gods and they have bounded you to this man.

He drags you off to bed and makes you sit on the floor with him.

Satoru looks at you with the moon shining on him making him look like an ethereal god. And to you, he was. Which is why you tilt your head at his statement. “Gojo-sama, I do not understand-”

“Satoru,” he says. “I am your husband, you should call me by my name y’know.” His voice is light and teasing, underplaying the reality of the situation. “I don’t want a slave. I want a confidant. A partner. I need someone. Do you understand?”

You nod. Strangely you do. “We must protect each other.”

You were both very lonely people thrust into a union none of you asked for. There are targets on your backs for sins you cannot control. You were alone, but not anymore.

Your husband nods and he takes his glasses off. You realize for the nth time that Satoru is a pretty, pretty man. His blue eyes shine and twinkle like the stars above.

He reaches for your hand- a strange gesture but you allow it anyway. “I will do right by you,” he promises. In his mind he remembers his mother, the one who loves too much but is loved so less. Like her, Satoru’s marriage is arranged by the clan. But he will not be his father.

He is a man of his word.

The next morning you find yourself waking to an empty bed with a smell of burning food. You catch your husband defeated before the stove with burnt scrambled egg on the table. “This is what couples do, right?”

You stare at him, simply horrified that you had failed to wake up first. You were supposed to cook him breakfast, not the other way around.

Satoru catches your expression. “Hey! It’s not that bad!” He pokes the pathetic excuse of a scrambled egg. His mother had always cooked for the family, it shouldn’t have been this hard. “…right?”

You ban him from your kitchen.

He takes you to the school next. You walk behind him, as is the norm, but Satoru makes a face that pushes you to stay beside him. His voice echoes in your head, you are my wife, my equal.

The weather was perfect, but he fusses about the fact that you decided to wear a sleeveless sundress that he deems inappropriate for the wind.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“Yes, Satoru.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow suspiciously, like he does not believe you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his. His face morphs to an expression of victory. “Ha! Your hands are cold. You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.” He spits, but his voice lacks venom. You pretend to ignore his poor excuse to hold your hand. Deep inside you like it. Romance is for fiction and some anime you were lucky enough to watch. A distinguished member of your the Gojo clan does not deserve it, but your husband is a romantic.

He stops you from walking out of the shade of the trees and into the sunshine. He opens his tote bag and points to a closed umbrella. “Do you need this? To protect you from- y’know.”

His points up to the sun.

Against your will you find his needless worrying endearing. He does not know his role as a husband well, but he is trying. When you finally arrive inside the Tokyo school, his hand is still clasped in your. Satoru is loud and proud when he introduces you to everyone, even if you have done nothing to deserve such pride. His co-workers pity you for being married to him and offer their condolences. Satoru protests strongly.

“Y/N loves spending time with me!” he says, stomping his feet like a child. He tugs your hand and looks at you in support. “Right?”

You smile and nod. You do. You wonder if you may love him someday.

The night is dark, and Satoru is not home yet. It has been a slow 8 months since your marriage. The ladies from your clan were wrong. Your husband is not cruel. He does not scold you if you use your cursed technique even when you accidentally use it on him.

You have never been someone good with words, so you decide to bake him a simple carrot cake. Your husband has a sweet tooth and he has a penchant of liking things better if it came from you.

You had only just finished adding icing the cake when you felt Satoru’s cursed energy through the door. You take a look at your cake one last time before heading towards the door to greet him.

Traditionally a wife must wait for her husband to enter in the middle of the room kneeling for supplication- a tradition most ingrained in your head more than most. As a compromise, Satoru suggested to have you greet him by the door instead because- “The first thing I want to see when I get home is your cute face. Obviously.”

You dust off imaginary crumbs off your hands by wiping it on your pants before sliding the door open.

“Welcome ho-”

In front of you, Satoru looks cold. You wonder if this is how others see him. He looks down at you with a cold gaze, He does not tremble. There is a child in his arms.

Both child and Satoru looks at you with twin cold eyes. You shiver. “He’s mine.”

You hear maids scuffle from behind you, but you do not care. The child innocently rests his cheek on Satoru’s shoulder looking at you.

There is no doubt the child is his. Your husband’s hair is on his head and dear god- their eyes. They have the same eyes.

In your head you hear the ladies of your clan again. Stand tall, Y/N. They may have their mistresses, but you will always be his true wife.

Of course you knew about Satoru’s womanizer past- present. Are you upset? Are you angry? You do not know, truly. You are simply confused.

Your clan’s ladies have prepared you for worst; what to do when your husband brings home another woman, what to say if they came home violent, where to go if you are too broken and beaten to sleep beside him. But what if your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

There is a pain in your chest you do not understand. This is expected! Men cannot be held down by just their wives. Did you expect him to be different? A cold fury washes over you

“Welcome home.” You finish instead.

check out my masterlist, and don’t forget to lmk how i can improve this fic <33

#gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen

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seattlesellie · 11 months

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don’t cross the line

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol

Parties in Jackson fucking suck.

It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.

“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”

Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.

You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.

“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.

“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”

Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.

Ellie.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.

So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-

“Hey”

You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.

“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”

She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”

Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.

“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.

Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.

Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.

“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.

“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.

One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.

“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.

You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.

“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.

“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”

Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.

You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.

“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.

It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?

“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.

“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?

“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?

“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.

“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.

Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.

“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.

Ellie scoffed.

“Yeah”

You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.

Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.

“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”

“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.

“Let me walk you” she blurted.

What?

“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.

She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?

“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.

“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.

“No” she exclaimed.

“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”

“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?

“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”

“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.

Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.

She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.

Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.

“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?

“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.

“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.

Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.

“You are”

Step

“So fucking annoying”

This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.

The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.

You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.

You turned around to face her.

Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.

You took a deep breath. She looked cold.

“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.

“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.

“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.

“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.

“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

“Come inside”

"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.

The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.

You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.

Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.

"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.

“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.

“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.

"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”

Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.

“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.

“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.

“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.

She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.

“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.

“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.

“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.

“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.

Oh, did that sentence burn through you.

“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.

“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.

You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.

“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.

“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.

Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.

That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.

“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?

You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

She took a deep breath.

“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”

The room fell quiet.

“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.

“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.

“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.

“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.

“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.

“Please” you begged.

That’s all it took.

Almost.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.

“Please” you begged.

Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.

“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.

Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.

Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.

“You dont know…” she whispered.

You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.

“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.

Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.

Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.

She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.

“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.

She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.

“Shit” she huffed.

And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.

Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.

Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.

The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.

your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.

It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.

If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.

Her body gave up on her, too.

She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.

“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.

You wiped your tears.

“I can’t” you whispered.

“Please” she begged.

You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.

“I think about you all the time” you blurted.

She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.

“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.

What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.

You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.

Ellie swallowed deeply.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.

“I need you” you whimpered.

She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.

“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.

“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.

Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.

She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.

You cupped your breast.

Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.

“Holy shit” she wheezed.

“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.

Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.

The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.

Then, you took your shirt off.

And Cat was gone.

Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.

The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.

You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.

The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.

“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.

You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.

Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”

She didn’t need to pretend now.

“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.

You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.

“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.

“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.

“Do it” she commanded.

“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.

The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.

You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.

“Feels so good” you whined.

“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.

“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.

Ellie almost went cross eyed.

“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.

“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.

“Show me how bad - shit”

You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.

You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.

“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.

In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?

“Spread” She commanded.

You looked at her stupidity.

“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.

You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.

“Fucking shit” she grunted.

Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.

“Wider” She commanded.

You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.

“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.

“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.

“Show me that fucking pussy”

You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.

“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.

“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.

“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.

“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.

“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.

With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.

Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.

Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.

You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.

Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.

She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.

You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.

“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.

“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.

You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.

It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.

“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.

Her fucking ex best friend.

“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.

“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”

“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.

The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.

“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.

“Please fuck me, please fuck me”

“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.

“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.

“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”

Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.

When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.

This wasn’t just wrong.

This was vile.

She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.

When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;

“I’m so sorry”

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #the last of us #ellie williams x you #wlw #lesbian #ellie smut #ellie williams angst

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kysuguru · 9 months

Text

dear mother — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : you’ve finally enrolled into jujutsu tech, sad thing is, you’re totally clueless.

includes / cw : emotionally abusive mother

all mine masterlist

a /n : ch1 of my “all mine” series!!!

"i'm ogawa [name]. i'm from sendai japan. please take care of me."

you bow politely. smiling at the tiny class of three as you rise, posture nervous and stiff.

"if i knew there was someone new i would've thrown a welcome party!" a white haired boy who's eyes are protected by circular black glasses exclaims excitedly, a smile big on his lips. you admit you're a bit intimidated. the idea of a party for you seems a bit over the top, though.

a boy on his left scoffs almost affectionately, the soft look he sends to his counterpart familiar to you. you always looked at the street cats like that, your mother as well (you try not to think about it). he has a bang over his left eye, you wonder if someone has ever tried to tuck it behind his ear.

"there's no need for a party. my arrival can't be that exciting," you chuckle shyly.

they all analyze you. so you settle with looking at your shuffling shoes.

"she speaks so formally." the gojo boy leans over with a hand cupped around his mouth as he whispers to his best friend, causing you to look up. it's a bit silly that he's acting as if he's whispering a secret even though everyone can hear him.

his friend eyes you apologetically.

there's another girl, the only one who seems actually interested as she stares you down. you flinch as you catch her gaze. her hair is short, in a brown bob that frames her face perfectly. her bangs are tucked behind her ear and there's a mole you catch on her face that convinces you she's model worthy.

other than your mother you've never thought a woman was so pretty.

"so new girl, what's your cursed technique."

new girl.. but i swore i said my name. did i not?

ignoring the white haired boy's lack of manners was easy, since you weren't all that aware he was being rude.

"i actually... don't know."

all three students chorused at the same time.

"hah?"

scouted? me? when you heard such a thing, you were confused and honestly, really surprised. you weren't talented by any means. outside of studying you didn't have much going on. not only that, but your mother kept you in the house a lot. so to hear of someone from jujutsu tech finding you worthy enough to attend had you blinking, astonished.

you were aware of what jujutsu was, cursed techniques and all of that jazz, but your knowledge was still limited beyond that. your mom was adamant on you not attending for reasons she refused to tell. obviously you didn't push. you never liked seeing her with a temper.

the man who recommended you was named yaga masamichi. he'd taken note of the significant amount of cursed energy you possessed when passing by you on your way to school. your family weren't jujutsu sorcerers from what you were aware of — you honestly weren't even sure that there were jujutsu sorcerers or people like you until now. but you'd never put it past your mom to hide something like that from you.

she always kept jujutsu related talk under wraps, only giving you little information to quell your curiosity.

you didn't even know what your cursed technique was. or if you even had one. even though you tried to understand why she does what she does, it still felt very lonely — seeing such heinous creatures and having to pretend they didn't exist for your own safety.

if it weren't for the fact that you instinctively learned to control your cursed energy output, you could've been in serious danger.

and although it was painful to go through such things alone — not being able to confide in a single person — you understood why your mother did it. all she wanted to do was keep you safe.

and even if you followed all of her rules of no jujutsu to a T, you couldn't help the sensation of excitement and relief knowing that there were so many other people out there just like you. a school of them, even.

you wanted badly to be upset with your mother, the fact that she knew about all of this and kept it from you. but even the thought of being angry at her when all she wanted was to protect you had you pushing down those foolish feelings.

other than secretive, your mother was also very stubborn. a trait that you always admired until this very moment.

she argued that you didn't belong into a school that was practically a death trap for young teens. always listening to your mother like an obedient puppy, you looked down at the floor, preparing for the inevitable rejection, expression sad as you shuffled your shoes alongside your mothers that were planted firm on the ground — you resisted the urge to distance yourself from her.

your eyes drifted to the shoes that were yaga's hoping no one would question your silence (they never did).

your mother wasn't a bad person. never that. but sometimes you couldn't help but get upset at the decisions she made in your stead. you wouldn't say that she didn't consider you, but sometimes it kinda felt that way.

"i get where you're coming from. jujutsu tech is a dangerous place and i hate to bring such young talented kids into such risks. but you have to understand your daughters side," he gestured towards you, your mothers eyes dropping to your head that perked up before they glared back at yaga.

"how do you think she feels knowing she has the opportunity to branch out and gain knowledge about these abilities. do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

your ears rang as the last sentence was spoken.

"do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

it resonated with you in a way you couldn't comprehend. all you could do was clutch your chest as a foreign feeling of relief left your choked up throat in a bated breath. the exhale feeling as if you were being freed from something. being seen.

"[name], my sweet darling baby," she caressed the top of your head. it was instinct to lean into her touch, even though at the moment you couldn't sort out how you felt towards her.

she's protecting you. the words whisper in your ear, like a disease that is incurable, like a predator that sinks its fangs and refuses to let go.

"mommy wants you to stay home with her. please consider it. it's so dangerous out there, and i really don't want you to get hurt," she cooed. it made you feel sick and you hated not knowing why. even though her words were meant to console you, they only made you want to run.

your eyes were glued to the dirty mat that you and your mother refused to clean, maybe because it was the most familiar thing in this constant changing house. there were five pairs of shoes, you, yaga, and mother and two unworn pairs off to the side, both meant for other occasions, better ones. ones that don't include the ringing of your ears and the well of your tears as they collect on your lashes. maybe it's an occasion where you're at a nice dinner with your mom, a rare treat whenever she deemed herself in the mood.

the bigger pair of shoes shifted. yaga.

"miss ogawa. i don't mean to overstep, but have you considered you're babying your 15 year old child? maybe you need to consider that she can make her own-"

"don't you dare tell me how to parent my own damn child." her voice is dripping with venom, the venom that seeps through you and whispers in your ear.

i just want to protect you.

your mothers anger was never a calm one, it was loud and furious, voice bouncing off the walls as she tried restraining herself from getting violent. so hearing her talk to the man in such a familiar tone had you quivering in her hold.

your mother, never under the assumption that she could ever be the reason you were upset, deduced that your shivers were caused by yaga.

so she glares, long and hard, and her lips move to form the words you were dreading, "my daughter is not attending your shit school. get out of my house.”

...

other than the sound of life beyond the door, there only laid cold, anxious silence.

you were afraid to look up, your mother's shirt being your only anchor. but from the resigned sigh that left yaga's lips, you were well aware of the expression he was making — one of anger, and disappointment. realizing that seeking you out was a waste of his time.

or so you assumed.

for he could only look at you in pity, acknowledging how painful a relationship like this must be for you, and in longing, hoping foolishly that he could lend a helping hand.

a rough calloused hand entered your vision, a piece of ripped paper in the grip of his fingers.

yaga gestured it towards you patiently, a look of sorrow marring his usually calm expression. "if there's a change, please call this number."

your mom ripped it from his grasp right before you could touch it. she crumpled it in her hand. "there won't be a change. now get the fuck out of my house."

you could only stare in horror at your mothers fist that held the only thing that could possibly change the trajectory of your life. even as yaga bowed and turned around, even as the door slammed shut behind him. even as mother soothed you with quiet coos meant for a baby, even as she turned towards the kitchen to start on dinner, even as she sat you down and commented on your silence. even as she watched you absentmindedly pick on your food, even as she started to become agitated at your lack of response, and even as she treaded up the stairs to her bedroom. your eyes stayed glued to that one hand.

you blinked, eyes dry and mouth parched as you suddenly remembered that you weren't at the front door anymore while your mother cradled you in her arms.

your eyes drift to the front door, and you approach it slowly. you don't know why you stand there or why your hand touched the door knob.

maybe it's because you're hopeful that the man is behind this door. waiting patiently for you to open it, prepared with the words of acceptance. maybe something amongst it that helps you figure out what the hell to do.

"a school of them." you whispered, the only thing capable of leaving your dry mouth.

there was a school of them. proof that you really weren't alone in this cursed world. how could you possibly go back to the difficult life of acting as if everything was normal when it wasn't? blue auras were around everybody, and the grotesque creatures festered from the negative feelings surrounding those people. and there were those out there who knew how to get rid of those things for the sake of others.

knowing all of this, you couldn't stand by and not lend a hand, not learn to control the one thing that's burdened you your entire life. but..

you looked up the stairs, seeing just the top of your mothers door.

what would she do? she needed you. you both took care of each other, you couldn't leave her behind.

but you needed this. you wanted to figure all of this out. control theses abilities and hopefully get to know people who were just like you. and... you could always come back.

yeah.

who said you had to stay? you would go, go to jujutsu high, reach your goals, and return to your mother.

because even though you may make friends with those of similar backgrounds to you, your mother was a constant in your life, never changing. you couldn't abandon her. you wouldn't.

so with this new resolve in your heart, you snuck up to her room. she kept her door creaked for unknown reasons, maybe to keep an eye on you, but you ignored that and thanked its convenience for this very moment.

she was asleep. snoring.

you treaded carefully over to the bed, eyes focused on the bags growing under her lashes. the sight made your lips twitch into a small frown. you delicately tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. listening to her steady breathing as she dreamt the night away.

"wait for me, mother.”

you turned away and grabbed the piece of paper off of her nightstand, leaving the room with a sense of urgency.

you dialed yaga's number after locking your bedroom door, pacing around in circles as the phone rung. the ringing resonated in your ears like a ticking clock. you didn't really have time. if he wouldn't answer now you'd never get your chance.

your mom was an early bird and you could already feel yourself getting drowsy.

"i mean. who even calls this late. he might be asleep..." you whisper defeatedly and pull the phone away from your ear to hang up, but it lights up with his icon and you jump in excitement.

"miss. ogawa?"

"masamichi-san. it's [name]."

Dear mother,

I've departed, something I'm sure you noticed. As much as I wanted to obey you, I couldn't just abandon the opportunity that could help change my life for the better. I know you were trying to protect me, and I know that it's dangerous. But I can't live knowing that my life could be different. I can't just sit by and watch this spark of light dim, let my world go dark again. I'm not like you, mother. I will not stay ignorant. Wait for me, please.

I lov-

a loud shrewd rip echoes through the quiet house. your mother's eyes are dull, face empty as she starts furiously ripping the paper to shreds.

she suddenly screams out in anger, tears of frustration bubbling and blurring her vision. she grips her hair in agony as she starts chanting curses.

"dammit dammit, dammit!! i told her it was dangerous. i told her. damn her!! good for nothing daughter... not listening to a fucking word i say!!"

your mom stomps angrily out of her room, not caring for the small pieces of paper she tramples over.

"I love you,"

"mother."

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 1 year

Text

It’s a running joke in the manor that Tim’s kid was like a cat

And he would never admit that he could kind of see it himself.

The climbing, the ability to go from zero to a hundred in energy, and unfortunate ability to be too cute to actually get mad at him for anything he does.

Finding said son running out and about when there was breakout was pushing through.

“Hi Dad!!”

“Danny! What are you doing out here?!it’s still lockdown chickadee!”

Danny looked down at the ground and scuffed one of his shoe against the pavement.

“I know… but you’ve been gone so long and I’ve been worried!”

Tim sighed and tapped his comm,

“Oracle, please keep lookout for the next couple minutes.”

And crouched down in front of his son,

“You haven’t been home in a while and I missed you..”

Tim sighed as he wiped a tear from Danny’s face.

It was almost unfortunate how much the kid took after him.

“Kiddo I’m sorry, that’s my fault, I know we haven’t been able to hang out for the past week-“

Danny stomped a foot in frustration,

“No you don’t understand! You forget to sleep when you don’t come home ‘n’ great grandpa Alffie said we got to sleep because it’s good for you ‘n’ that when you don’t you are more likely to get hurt! I don’t want you hurt!”

Tim wanted to argue, and say that he was fine. He’s been taking cat naps between searching and the fights. If it was anyone else in his family he would’ve done so.

But this was his son, his little chickadee who loves so much and worries about himself so little.

He needs to set an precedent before bad habits emerge.

Picking Danny up, Tim set him down onto his hip and stuck his chin on his head.

“You’re right, I guess I haven’t been being nice to myself like I’m supposed to. How about we go back home and I’ll lay down with you for a couple hours?”

Danny peered up with glassy eyes,

“Can you stay for breakfast?”

And didn’t that just hurt to hear? Faded memories of asking that same question only to be given this almost pitying look danced in the back his mind.

“Sorry kiddo, but we just don’t have enough time before our flight but don’t worry when we get back we’ll have a family day, just the three of us!”

Clearing his throat Tim met his son’s eyes.

“Sure champ, and when we finally get joker back in Arkham we can ask everyone to have a family day, how does that sound?”

Stars almost seemed to take over Danny’s eyes as he let out a little gasp.

“Really?!”

“I promise.”

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

Yes, many of Danny’s mannerisms were reminiscent of a cat, but this was new.

Tim pinched his eyebrow in exasperation as he looked at his siblings.

He wished he never got up this morning.

“And how exactly did Danny somehow get a crowbar?”

The kid in question just happily swung his legs as he sat on the bench unaware that he himself was going to be getting a far longer conversation as soon as they got back to the manor.

“To be honest.. in hindsight, not my brightest moment.”

“WHY IN GODS NAME A CROWBAR?!”

“He said he needed something to help take care of the trash! I thought he would use it like a knapsack or something!”

Jason Thew his hands in the air, and Dick let out a snort while he nudged the mess of a clown next to him.

“Well he very much did use it for something.”

“Nightwing! I’m just as mad at you for somehow loosing the kid this badly to begin with!! You. Are. Not. Helping.”

“I know but I’m just saying, he gets his dramaticism from you.”

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

At the end of the day, Joker ended up paralyzed from the neck down.

Jason and Dick were both no longer allowed to babysit Danny alone.

And one little munchkin was, though very much grounded, hailed a hero by all of Gotham for the actions that were live-streamed by onlookers.

And once he was no longer grounded, he did get his family day.

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

Text

Alfred's Boy Part 3

Bruce rarely had a full night's rest. In fact, he thinks that it's been a full two years since he last had more than eight hours of consistent slumber. Unlike Tim, who just forgo the recommended sleeping amount, Bruce found time to take naps throughout the day because, as much as he hates to admit it, he's not as young as he used to be.

This is why Bruce is rather displeased to be awoken when he finds himself with a chance to have a full night's rest. It felt like he barely closed his eyes at the tender time of nine o clock pm- with no cases waiting for him, his children agreeing to take his patrols, and the wonderful tea that Danny had poured him to help with backpain-he thought nothing would ruin it.

He forgot he had children for a moment.

At three in the morning, he woke to Tim, half in his Red Robin uniform, crouching like a cat about to leap, his unmasked face staring a few inches away from Bruce's nose. It took everything in Bruce to not react on instinct and take a swing at his son.

He only just bites back the scream by sheer willpower. His son doesn't seem to notice his heart trying to leap out of his chest as the boy leans back, sitting on the pillow Bruce likes to use to build a protective wall against the other side of the floor.

Tim's voice was raspy with sleep and maybe even hints of madness. "Oh good, you're awake. I have an emergency."

"Wha?" Bruce asks, half unsure if he is hallucinating. "What's wrong."

"Danny found his photo album."

"Danny has a photo album?"

"Yes. I made it. I took all the pictures."

"Okay? Why is that bad, chum? Was it supposed to be a surprise present for him?"

Tim tilts his head, his somewhat unfocused eyes staring at Bruce, and for one moment, he wonders if Tim got a concussion out in the field. He disregards the idea a moment later. Alfred would have notified him, and if not, Danny wouldn't allow Tim to wander alone.

Bruce could still remember Duke's wide eye awe as Danny followed him around when he got hit a little too hard a few weeks ago. The butler in training had even slept in his room- on the floor on an air mattress- and Duke had looked mortified and smug for as long as it took to get over his injury.

Alfred had to make it very clear no one was allowed to deliberately get a concussion to his other love-struck children.

Tim's nose wrinkles as a slight blush appears on his high cheeks. "No. He didn't know I was taking pictures of him. That's why it's bad he found the album. "

Bruce closes his eyes. He loves his son, he really does, but he can't handle this right now. He takes a few blissful seconds to pretend he never became a single dad of nine before he pushes his eyelids apart to give one of his middle children a firm scolding. "Tim, chum, the light of my life, that's a crime."

"It's not! I didn't follow him around outside the manor." Tim argues.

Bruce reaches a hand up to rub the space between his eyes. "Tim, you can't just take pictures of people without asking them."

"Why not? I've done it before. To you, Dick, Jason, Steph, Alfred, Damian, Harper, Cullen, Duke, and Cass, but she usually catches me and poses so it doesn't get her in her authentic state of being like I usually want to get but-" Tim says, counting the people on his figures before he seems to realize that he was sidetracked and shakes his head. He gives Bruce a pitiful pout. "He doesn't even mind. He said they were lovely and artistic!"

Of course, Danny wouldn't even blink at a creepy photo album of himself hidden in one of his employer's rooms. That boy didn't care that he found the Batcave while dusting, so taking everything in stride was a default.

"Tim, it's still not okay. You have to ask him from now on if you can take pictures." He holds up a hand when Tim opens his mouth to no doubt argue. "You can ask him if you can take pictures of him throughout the day to capture his authentic side without it being a crime. Now explain what the emergency really is."

Tim's teeth snapped close with a snap. "That was the emergency. He found it, and now I have to leave the country. Go underground for a few months. Maybe fake my death."

"You literally don't have to do any of that. Danny said it was okay right? He isn't one to sugarcoat things. He wouldn't claim it was fine if he didn't feel that way."

"No, Bruce, you don't understand. He already thinks I can't swim. Now he finds a book of him covered in hearts? Tim Drake needs to die." Tim says, dragging his hands down his face, and Bruce flips the covers back.

Gesturing to them, he deadpans. "Tim Drake needs to sleep."

"But my fake death needs to be planned-"

"Cullen and Harper get back tomorrow. Do you want to stress Danny more by adding your fake death to this?" Bruce watches the moment his argument wins because it's as if all fight leaves Tim's body, and his son slumps to the side. His head falls on a pillow, and he's already fast asleep.

He had been running on fumes again, it seemed.

Sighing, Bruce man hands his son into a more comfortable position, unclips his cape, and tucks the blankets around his son's shoulders. He settles back into his side of his bed- Ever since Dick came to live with him, Bruce had, over the years, claimed the right side of the bed so the left would always be open for any of his children suffering from nightmares.

He closes his eyes; Tim's peaceful face snuggling into Bruce's softest pillow reminded him why he became a single father of nine. His heart swells with love as he gives back into sleep's warm arms.

A few seconds later, his door is kicked open by Harper. She puts all her lungs into her greeting. "What's up, Old man! Who's the new kid!?"

Bruce glances at his clock and realizes it's now eight in the morning. Harper and Cullen had arrived hours earlier than planned- probably because Harper had refused to sleep and completed the drive home. He looks at Tim and finds his son curled into a ball, still dead to the world.

"That's Danny," He says in a hushed voice, gesturing to her adoptive brother. When Harper sees Tim, she visibly quiets, ensuring her heavy metal boots don't stomp on the ground as she walks over to him. "He's Alfred's foster son. He was removed from his last home because his parents were dangerous to his safety. Alfred will house him as a favor for his old contact. The contact code name is Clockwork. Danny talks about him a lot so you may hear that name for a while."

"Whoa. " She says, sobering up. Bruce can see memories of her birth father playing behind her eyes as she frowns. "That's shitty. Poor guy, no wonder he seemed sad to the bone."

"You met him?"

"Yeah, he jumped Cullen and me in the main hallway."

Bruce's mind buffers for a second. "What?"

"I know! The dude has skill, but it makes sense if he is Alfred's. He thought we were breaking in and took us out before I realized we were in danger. Once he got a good look at our faces, though, he practically threw up apologizing." She pauses. "Is he straight?"

No. Bruce thinks feeling cold, not another one.

"I believe he's bi. Why?"

Harper shrugs, smiling. "I think Cullen may have a crush on him. I was iffy about it since I thought he was another of your kids. You technically aren't our dad since I'm still Cullen's guardian, but you let us live here for free, so you like a dad? Glad it's not an issue."

Bruce wants to cry. What was it with Danny and seducing his children (in the eyes of the law or not, Cullen is Bruce's boy)? "There may be an issue. See, Danny has a few admires right now and he's- "

"That sounds like your issue, not a Cullen issue," Harper says, narrowing her eyes. Bruce winces when he notices her arms crossing over her chest as when firmly plants her feet a few inches apart. She only stands like that when she's protective of Cullen, which means she finds his comment offensive.

"I'm not saying Cullen doesn't have a chance." Bruce corrects realizing where the issue was. Harper's arms loosen slightly. "I just meant that right now, Danny isn't in the right mental state to be dating."

Harper's arms drop. "Yeah, I wasn't interested in dating after I became emancipated, either. Had a lot going on. I'll talk to Cullen about it. Make sure he gives Danny space."

Finally, one of his kids is on his side! "Thank you, Harper."

She waves a hand dismissively. "Don't mention it. Hey, how did Clockwork and Alfred meet anyway?"

Bruce shrugs. "I never asked."

"Why?"

"It's Alfred. " He says like that is an explanation enough, and it is. Harper accepts it as such, nodding along. She tilts her head back and mentions wanting to shower, then take a long nap. She leaves the room as silent as a shadow, but not before telling him Danny and Cullen are making pancakes for everyone.

Bruce doesn't want to get up, but he must be the period romance villain and rip his son away from the staff. He slips out of bed with great effort and prepares for the day. A quick bathroom break, and a change into a casual suit, lead to Bruce walking down to the kitchen.

There he spots Danny smiling gently at Cullen, who is in an excited rant about his latest reality tv show. Around them is a spread of breakfast foods- Danny always cooks the food of various cultural backgrounds. He apparently learned from Clockwork and found it important everyone had at least one piece of home per meal.

It's heartwarming domestic. Bruce needs to ruin it.

"How did Alfred and Clockwork meet?" Cullen asks, stopping Bruce from dramatically bursting into the room. It's mostly because he has been wondering the same thing for weeks, and Danny seems to know.

"Alfred got haunted when he picked up Clockwork's pocket watch in an antique store," Danny responds.

That answer didn't explain anything. In fact, it just created more questions. Bruce wants to wait a little more, see if Danny adds more information, but he watches as the bulter in training places strawberries on heart-shaped pancakes and then drizzles chocolate. He puts the plate in front of Cullen, and the other teenager swoons.

Yeah, Bruce needs to stop that.

"Good morning, boys." He calls, watching the two turn to him. They each give him a greeting, but Danny is noticeably more polite. Danny moves away from Cullen to serve Bruce. He adds blood pudding alongside his Batarang-shaped pancakes as Cullen sulks about losing Danny's attention. Bruce takes a bit of those first, closing his eyes in bliss.

Blood pudding, just like Alfred used to make.

Speaking of Alfred, his loyal butler arrives then. Seems like Bruce wasn't the only one catching up on a night of undisruptive sleep. His oldest friend gives both boys a once over, Danny pouring tea and milk and Cullen staring at him lovingly- and raises a brow, leaning down to whisper in Bruce's ear.

"I say, it seems Danny has collected another one."

"Please don't."

"Denial will not make it less true. It's how I wound up haunted."

"Alfred, what does that mean?"

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdpdabbles #Alfred's boy #Part 3 #cullen row #Harper Row #They were away on a trip #Danny likes to cook #Clockwork taught him #The lore of Alfred and Clockwork is a hot topic in Wayne Manor #Danny breaking hearts again #Tim was half crazy from sleep deprivation.

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