#and it’s like man… you’re the one who broke the law here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunsguilt · 6 months

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SMASH OR PASS WITHOUT THE SMASH !┊ft: all nrc characters!

warnings: none! contains: gn reader

notes: this is essentially a dateability ranking in terms of pure survival and living your best life. i love all the characters dearly, and this is just for fun!

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts: don’t get me started on him. hypothetically, let’s say he has a single romantical bone in his body. he would probably (definitely) want to date someone his mother would approve of, so someone who’s super studious and thinking about becoming a lawyer type of thing. even then, his mother would be the overbearing MIL stereotype, and riddle would just bend to her every whim, so it wouldn’t work. would probably divorce you if his mom said to.

overall rating: 2/10, could be a nice cushy life if he took his penchant for memorizing rules into a lawyer profession and became a rich husband, but still the MIL…. you would end up on r/relationshipadvice within weeks, i’m afraid.

ace trappola: he’s like a frat boy to me, honestly. I think you could be friends with him within reason, but if you actually date him… he’s the kind of guy who would pursue you and then get bored once u start dating. whoops, he had a consensual workplace relationship. he canonically ghosted his ex, guys.

overall rating: 3/10, you would be dating a frat boy. you don’t want that for yourself, trust me, speaking from second-hand experience here.

deuce spade: deuce is actually normal. like he’s no rich boy, but his family is respectful and his mother would adore you if he brought you home. he’s a little slow, but he’s got the spirit, y’know?

overall rating: 6/10, very nice in-laws, very cool husband. you may end up being the primary breadwinner.

cater diamond: with cater, it’s probably a bromance that turns into a real romance. mostly because he didn’t want to confess and ruin the whole thing you had going on together. likely a guy who needs a lot of validation from his partner. like he’ll say he hates pickles if you don’t like pickles. will not let a pickle pass his lips. will try his very hardest to convince you to do silly couple challenges.

overall rating: 8/10, he’s sooooo cute but he’s got unresolved mental instability like you wouldn’t believe. personally, i love that in a man. call me fix-it felix.

trey clover: trey is. trey. average guy whose family runs a bakery. he’s cute though!

overall rating: 5/10, he’s probably a freak in terms of intimate relations! teehee! no further comment.

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar: leona is a nice guy, respectful etc. but after a while, he’s not putting the same energy into the relationship as you are. the added layer of dating a literal prince…. no matter how disregarded he is by his family, he is second in line for the throne. the pressure from that sounds crazy, i won’t lie. you might be able to ignore the pressure of him bringing you home to straight up royalty ! overall rating: 5/10, he’s so dreamy and gorjus but he wears uncle sandals. jack howl: oh he’s so bf material, like you don’t understand. him being really firm on the fact that beastmen choose a life partner? wanting to fall in love and be committed to someone until his dying day? this is Romance. he's probs a good guy to bring to the gym for support if you’re just starting to work out regularly! might accidentally push you past your limits bc he’s thinking beastmen standards and not human. overall rating: 7/10, he’s so cute and i love him, but he’s a gym bro and does daily early morning jogs and such. cannot accept it. ruggie bucchi: he’s actually another really normal guy to date! he’s shown to do anything to provide for his loved ones (bringing food home from school to provide for his friends and family). very much an acts of service guy!

overall rating: 4/10, the chances are high that he’ll do that thing that broke dudes do when they get all touchy and hug their partner when the partner pulls out their card to pay for something.

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto: he would be nice to you ONLY if he had something to gain. would actually play the long game in order to sweet-talk you into signing some contract that totally screws you over forever. he is a capitalist at heart, i fear. he’s gonna get you in some get-rich-quick scheme. also, he can’t kiss and it would be weird and a lot more drool than necessary. overall rating: 6/10, i love octopus.

jade leech: oh god. he’s like visually appealing but the longer he's talking, the worse it gets. his hobby would literally be getting your heart rate up. you’d be lucky if you don’t get high blood pressure from his desire to see your face twist in an ugly expression. he has a penchant for learning, so he’ll want to research the topic of his interest to the fullest to get the desired results. overall rating: 3/10, the moment he’s tired of you, he’ll never speak to you again outside of a professional setting. floyd leech: he wants to have fun every day he can. which is fine, nothing wrong with that. the problem lies when he wants to rope you into it. and his idea of fun is….. questionable. he would call you up in the middle of the night and ask if you wanna go for a joyride that takes you over state lines. and you would only get like three minutes notice. he would also invite himself into your dorm and sleep in your bed. no, he’s not making the bed either, the guy canonically has to be forced into ironing his own shirt. overall rating: 3/10, he looks like he bites unironically. would you get rabies if a humanized eel bit you?

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim: oh he’s so sweet, but the only problem is literally the fact that he’s rich. he frequently talks about multiple attempts on his life in his youth up until the present day. if people outside of your circle found out you were with him, word would surely spread to unwanted ears, and your life would be at risk because of that immediate association. overall rating: 6/10, a total sweetheart, but i don’t think i’d be able to eat breakfast with him without wondering if something’s in our food. jamil viper: he has too many underlying issues that include but are not limited to: an inferiority complex that exists due to his forced proximity to kalim. as much as i’d love to say i could fix him, jamil almost killed kalim. Plus, jamil is literally kalim’s servant. association with kalim = will probably die. overall rating: 5/10, he’s got issues, but he’s so cute and probably just needs that reassurance or whatever. my silly guy!

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit: vil is like my fav so i’d love to say that because he’s so nice and rich and pretty that he would be a perfect ten. WRONG. he’s famous. bad! what if he has crazy stans who go after you bc you’re dating him? for your own safety, you would never be able to go public with your relationship, that is if the tabloids don't get to you. overall rating: 7/10, you’ll have to listen to him go on tangents about neige.

rook hunt: if you’re thinking “yeah no he’s probably a safe bet, he’s rich and i could be his trophy wife/husband”, you like french people and you’re lying to yourself !!!!! ive never met a normal rich person in my life, and rook is no exception. he would know your shoe size before you even know his last name.

overall rating: 0/10, he’s weird AND french.

epel felmier: he lives in a small town where everyone tends to know each other and their business. there’s no hiding your relationship from them. downside is, he would have a crazy inferior complex if you were taller than him. He needs to be a Man’s man, yknow??? overall rating: 6/10, he’s a good cook, an incredible one, even. if you can’t cook and you can deal with a man who desperately wants to show you how cool he is, then this is the one for you.

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud: he wouldn’t date, like he’s a NEET guys, i don’t see it at all. He would marry someone if it was for tax reasons, or just to tell people he isn’t bitchless. you'd just go to a courthouse real quick and pop by an ihop after.

overall rating: 6/10, he would be an incredible overwatch carry. would bully you for sucking super hard in any type of pvp game.

ortho shroud: he’s like a child, so he is not included!

overall rating: 0/10, in terms of dateability, he’s silly tho

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia: you would be perfectly safe with him. yeah, he’s not fully clear on the norms of human society, but he treats you well! problem is, he'd be a little too obssessed and its going to very quickly turn into "he's going to keep u in this tower bc hes scared abt u dying"

overall rating: 7/10, wouldn’t you love a loser man who is obsessed with gargoyles?! silver: objectively, the world’s most perfect man. he’s super cute and can cook! everything you would want in a man. he's also got his wacky little sitcom type family like step brothers who are Not human and a dad who is Not human but like they care for him he cares for them!

overall rating: 9/10, no real drama and they'd probably be elated if he brought someone home. sebek zigvolt: he would choose malleus over you every time, i’m so sorry. like “sorry babe malleus needs help shining his sword or whatever, you can start the movie without me.” realistically the only time sebek could be in a relationship is if he finds someone whos as obsessed with malleus as he is so they can be hyperfixated on him together or something. like how kpop stans marry each other, but with malleus the dragon prince.

overall rating: 2/10, he would use you has a human dishrag to clean shoes for malleus. lilia vanrouge: everyone loves a fictional old man, but this particular old man comes with trauma and emotional baggage spanning centuries. You can only fix-it felix your way out of so many things. he’s cute, though.

overall rating: 4/10, canonically picks his nose, i fear.

— ☆

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klemen-tine · 2 months

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Blowing Raspberries

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.

TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect

Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot.

Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting.

“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs.

“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it.

“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?”

“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and–

“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.”

“Dami!”

“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.”

Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing.

Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair.

“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life.

Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about.

“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”

Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham.

Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne.

They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads.

“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.”

“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.”

“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book.

“It's Elizabeth Bennett.”

“Jay, I swear to God.”

“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.”

“Little wing–”

“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.”

“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words.

“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs.

He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –

“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?”

“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–”

“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!”

– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present.

“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it.

Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee.

“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle.

Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’

Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason.

“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?”

Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass.

“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze.

Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission.

Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.

The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home.

Y/N quickly shot those down.

Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something.

Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here.

‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine.

“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight.

When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over.

Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child.

Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance.

Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing.

However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away.

Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them.

“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why.

Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here.

++++

“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder.

“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.”

The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up.

Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others.

He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred.

They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home?

Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence.

There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.

Every phone call, every text message going unanswered.

‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking.

‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea.

“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.”

Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector.

“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?”

In the L/N Manor

Y/N walked the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere.

When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm.

Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it.

Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham.

Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him.

Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.

Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window.

“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl.

“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?”

‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face.

“Did F/N do this?”

“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?”

“You’re rooms this way.”

“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice.

“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!”

“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory.

“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.”

Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.”

“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go.

“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip.

“Guys, you’re scaring me.”

“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move.

Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing.

“Wa-”

“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor.

++++

Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages.

Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably.

“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–”

“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands.

“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.”

“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.”

Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say.

“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–”

“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile.

Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.

Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different.

“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his.

“I-I should change first–”

“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.”

“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something.

The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted.

“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty.

Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”

“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air.

Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about.

“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family.

They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like.

Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick.

Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.”

“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman.

“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers.

“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.”

“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper.

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say.

Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries

Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly.

“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-”

“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance.

“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–”

“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family.

Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly.

“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.”

“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”

“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.”

Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.”

“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.”

“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in.

“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.”

“Language.”

“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company.

“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!” Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"

Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.”

He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper.

“Just… just please don’t do that again.”

“It won’t happen again. I promise.”

______________________________________________________________

Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.

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stevie-petey · 1 month

Text

dibs

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. “One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another. They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

Summary: do the laws of dibs still apply if steve and robin see you at the same time ???

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.4k

Before you swing in: this is for my beloved val (@southelroy), and i was so excited to try my hand at writing robin and steve together <3 this is a very silly fic, not at all meant to be realistic or serious, and it isnt proofread so pls enjoy n beware !

According to the ancient rules of “dibs”, the first person who sees the desired one has the rightful claim of dibs. Anyone else present during this time must obey this sacred rule, respecting the fact that the other has laid claim first. It’s an old, ancient tradition, held up for centuries through faithful friendships.

It’s a solid system, really.

Except Steve and Robin see you walk into Family Video on the same day, at the same time, together.

You walk in, hair slightly wet from the rain and your eyes bright, and smile at the two of them shyly. Setting down your umbrella, you unbutton your raincoat and look around the store. “Sorry, is it okay if I hide out in here for a bit? My umbrella broke and I really don’t feel like catching a cold.”

Steve and Robin stare at you, wide eyed and in shock. They’ve never seen you before, they surely would’ve remembered your face if they had, and their brains short circuit simultaneously.

When they don’t say anything, you cautiously walk up to the counter and laugh nervously. “Uh, hello? I can leave, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No!” Steve shouts, panicked that the word “leave” has left your very pretty and pink mouth. When you flinch at his raised voice, he quickly clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I–uh, I mean… No, no. You can stay–please! I mean, if you don’t mind, ‘cause, ya know, it’s raining–”

“What my coworker here is trying to say is that you can definitely stay.” Robin interrupts, admiring the way the raindrops in your hair seem to form a halo. “In fact, why don’t you have a look around? We have plenty of movies.”

You smile at Robin, which she practically melts seeing. “Thanks, you guys are lifesavers. I’m here visiting my cousin, and he said I should stop by anyways.”

“What, do we know him?” Steve asks, finally finding his voice again.

“His name is Dustin Henderson, if that helps. He’s a freshman at Hawkins, said he stops here sometimes–”

“Dustin Henderson is your cousin?” Steve and Robin say at the same time, completely taken aback.

You laugh. “Ya know, I’ve gotten that a lot since being in Hawkins. I take it he’s well known?”

“Oh, he’s definitely well known.” Robin snorts, thinking about how many people would scream at the idea of more Hendersons running around the world.

But if they’re anything like you, then Robin thinks she’d love to be invited to a Henderson family reunion. Immediately.

“Well,” you smile again at the two teens, amused by their weird dynamic. You can see why Dustin likes them so much. “Since I’m stuck here for a while and I promised Dustin I’d get a movie, I’m gonna take a look around as suggested.”

You pause, now realizing you haven’t asked for their names, and you gasp. “I’m so sorry! What are your names? I feel horrible for not even asking.”

“You could never do any wrong,” Steve sighs dreamily, leaning against the counter in what he hopes is a cool looking pose. “I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He sticks his hand out for you to shake, which you accept with a slight giggle. He’s odd, but incredibly endearing even if he’s currently standing against the counter like a middle-aged man. “I’m Y/N Henderson.”

Robin, sensing what Steve is trying to do, hip checks the boy so that he falls onto the ground. “And I’m Robin Buckley, the better half of this duo.”

Like hell she’s going to allow him to flirt with you.

Her declaration makes you laugh, even as poor Steve groans on the floor in pain. You wink at her, amused by her charm, and start to walk towards the movie aisles. “Oh, I believe that.”

Steve scrambles back up, and the second you’re out of earshot, he and Robin immediately shout at the same time, “Dibs!”

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors.

“One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another.

They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

“Okay, let’s think about this.” Steve holds a finger up to indicate that he’s speaking, which Robin scoffs at. “I saw her first, so–”

“Uh, news flash, dingus: I saw her first.”

“Were you dropped as a child? I clearly saw her first–”

“Actually,” your voice causes both Robin and Steve to turn in horror, realizing too late that you’ve been standing behind them, listening in. “You both saw me at the same time, so I’m not sure how the rule of dibs applies here.”

“We…” Steve gapes at you, speechless.

Robin is no better, her face burns horribly. “We think… You’re pretty?”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You laugh again, and the sound is enough for both Steve and Robin to forget all their worries and admire how delicate it is. Then, holding up two dvd’s, you place them on the counter. “I’ll take these, please.”

Robin looks down at your movie selection, seeing The Breakfast Club and The Outsiders, and her heart drops. “Just… Just these?”

“Mhm,” you nod, unsure why her demeanor has suddenly changed. “Is there something wrong with my movie selection?”

Steve looks at Robin and he knows immediately what’s wrong. She absolutely hates your taste in movies, which he’s ecstatic over. He lets out a whoop and first bumps the air. “Yes! She’s mine!”

“Shut up, you moron!” Robin screeches, embarrassed and infuriated. She cannot believe that this is happening to her right now, in front of a very pretty girl, no less. Closing her eyes, Robin takes a deep breath and turns to you. “Please excuse my friend, he’s allergic to pretty girls.”

“Hey, that’s not true–”

You cross your arms at Robin, an amused smile on your face. “What’s so wrong with my taste in movies?”

“Nothing!” When you raise your eyebrow at her, Robin accepts her fate and gives in. She knows she’s done for now. “It’s just… It’s incredibly bland.”

“I happen to think your taste is impeccable, Y/N.” Steve butts in, batting his eyelashes at you for added effect.

Robin watches, with pure disgust, as it works. Steve’s charm gets you to laugh once more, and you even lean closer to his side of the counter. You place a hand on his arm. “I’m honored to have you on my side, then.”

Stupid Harrington and his stupid male species.

While you and Steve exchange gross lovey-dovey glances, Robin rings up your movie rentals with disdain.

“That will be $5.25, please.” She mumbles, crestfallen.

You tear your eyes away from Steve’s and notice the jealousy and hurt on Robin’s face. You frown, feeling bad for being the cause of this. She seems like a sweet girl, and Dustin spoke highly of her, so you know she’s someone special. Taking some cash out of your purse, you hand it to Robin and catch her eye.

“Hey, listen to me real quick.” Robin looks up, despite not wanting to, but your eyes are too pretty not to look into. When you have her attention, you turn to Steve. “Can you give us a second?”

He looks bewildered. “What? Why?”

“If you leave now, I’ll give you my number.”

“Yes ma’am!” Steve hops over the counter and goes to sort some movies, leaving you alone with Robin.

Once he’s gone, you lean in close to her. “I understand what you’re going through.”

Her eyes widen, terrified she’s been caught. “W–what? No, I think you’ve gotten this all wrong–”

“It’s okay,” you grab her hand, gently take it between yours. “We’re more alike than you may think, and while I’m flattered, you’re too young.”

Robin knows she should be devastated by this, but all she hears is, “So… Let’s say ten years from now, if you happen to visit Dustin again…”

You laugh, she’s got such a spark to her. “You’ll have to figure out the whole ‘dibs’ thing by then with Steve.”

“I saw you first!” Steve shouts from somewhere in the aisles, before a giant crash follows. A few seconds pass, and then, much quieter this time, he shouts, “I’m fine!”

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #robin buckley x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #implied robin x reader #dont wanna tag much x robin because like not really but she has a crush ya know #fluff #theyre such silly guys tbh

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cinnbar-bun · 15 days

Note

Would you be willing to write what kind of fan would ace, sabo, shanks, and law for the reader!! I loved your last one!!!

You got it dude! Sorry for taking so long.

Ace, Sabo, Law, and Shanks- Reversed AU HCs

AU: In which YOU are the character of a very famous franchise, and they are regular people who are fans of your series.

Note: GN!Reader, crack, very unserious, SFW

Part 1 with Straw Hats here!

Ace

Broke ass guy who can’t afford anything for you minus like, a bootleg or something small. Has buttons of you.

Highkey think he would be a menace and just wear something so off with you on it (you are free to decide what that looks like).

If people ask why he’s got you on his phone or like a keychain of you, he just beams and responds that you’re the love of his life and refuses to elaborate.

Lies, he WILL be elaborating and making it everyone’s problem.

Marco wants him to shut up about it.

Thatch jokes around often and makes cakes of you for Ace on his birthday or something. Ace refuses to eat it for like two seconds before he’s quickly trying to fight off the others from taking a slice.

Whitebeard has not realized you’re fictional and still asks about meeting you soon… he just wants to meet the one his son keeps raving about.

Ace has to lie and it becomes a whole ‘my partner is in Canada, actually they can’t see you now.’

Whitebeard is so impressed with the fact you travel all over the world <3 wow, you must be so worldly!

Sabo

Rich boy who I don’t think would directly get merchandise of you, but he would totally buy things that have your signature color or remind him of you. Very subtle things. I could see him buying one expensive figure of you, but otherwise it’s just subtle things he will proudly wear in public.

Doesn’t have much time for gaming, so I don’t think he would be playing the mobile gacha games but he will admire the artwork and units of you.

This is actually a partial truth, he had them at one point but was sinking so much money into your units that Koala had to step in and get him to stop this addiction.

He’s been doing his best okay… but your alt unit is so tempting he wants to GET IT HE NEEDS TO GET IT LET HIM ROLL ONE MORE ONE MORE ONE MORE-

Sabo’s phone is now under parental controls and he needs Koala or Dragon’s permission to download or buy any in-app purchases.

But he’s like, so normal about this, okay? He doesn’t have a problem.

Likes to eat your favorite snacks or food on your birthday as a sort of ‘celebration’ of you. Again, pretty subtle things like buying a dessert you like from that one bakery, or ordering a meal that you ate one time on the show.

On second thought I could see him having special editions of the manga, but that remains in his office never to be borrowed by anyone.

Law

“Why the hell would I be into this?”

Acts like he’s above watching cringe animes when he’s got better taste in his consumption of media like House MD or Scrubs or something.

But you know, he’s always getting dragged into silly shit with his friends so everyone is forcing him to watch this popular anime with over 1000+ episodes.

Law feels like performing surgery on himself with no anesthesia at the sheer number of episodes.

It isn’t until like 400 episodes in when you’re introduced and everyone swears they can see the light in his eyes return and he’s entranced.

Suddenly this is his favorite show, although he refuses to entertain that.

He totally has a few figures of you, but when asked, he just yells that they’re Bepo’s and he’s keeping them safe.

The others know he’s not going to buy merch so they just buy him silly trinkets of you and he tries to keep lowkey and hidden so no one knows about his love for you.

He’s not the same man he was 400 episodes ago. He still can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad one.

But you’ve invaded and latched yourself into his mind and damn it, he’ll keep you there.

Shanks

Cringe but free.

Buggy got him into this show (Buggy made a slip up once and has tried to deny that he’s liked this series since) and Shanks casually watches a few episodes when he’s free.

Has a couple of figures that a kid Uta always wants to play with (hell no, put that shit back!!!)

Lies to Uta whenever she asks who this figure is of and he dramatically will hold the figure of you and tell her this is, in fact, who her other parent is.

Great job, Shanks, you weirdo. Of course, Uta knows when she’s older that he’s lying out of his ass, but when she was younger she was deadset on meeting you.

So Shanks was forced to include her in his watches so she can see her ‘other parent’. Shanks makes wild stories when Uta asks why you’re in the TV and says you’re so so cool they just had to make a tv show about you.

He’s the kind of guy who forgets Uta is a kid and whenever something super violent or adult happens, he goes ‘oops’ after a few seconds and shoddily covers her eyes, to the point she can pretty much still see everything.

So both of them kinda get in a feedback loop where when he gets something, she wants it, and when she wants to do something, he’ll do it when it comes to you.

You are a staple in that household. Shanks isn’t the best at maintaining your figures but he does remember to dust you off once in a while (mostly after Uta screams at him to keep it in good condition).

He’s tried to get into the card game (Uta insisted), but he finds the rules too hard and difficult, so him and Uta made an easier version (which he often lies about to be able to win).

His luck is crappy too when it comes to the blind packs, so when Uta got the rare card of you he was practically gonna wrestle it out of her.

He’s also weird and rich enough to get any crazy or out there merchandise of you if he felt like it.

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #reader insert #one piece hcs #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace #sabo #sabo x reader

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chaosandmarigolds · 20 days

Text

Among the Bullets

Chapter 1, part 1

Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, bear with me)

When someone would look over your file they would be met with a nice and normal, average-looking citizen, who took over your father's Machine Shop at the age of sixteen when he passed away, went to trade school and then university for engineering on scholarship. The worst law you ever broke was speeding, it was clean, neat, and tied up with a bow. Then came when you were invited to be a console on a Military operation, and somehow that kept being a habit; you were a vital person in many operations.

Clean file. Looked good on paper.

“Bullshit!” Simon snapped at Price as he tossed the file onto the oak desk, giving his captain a disapproving glare (as if he could look any different). “A civilian?”

Price sat down at his desk, leaning back in the chair and looking over the file that now sat in front of him, the emblem on the folder like a haunting mark of the mechanic's impending doom. With a shrug of his shoulders, he lifts his gaze to the lieutenant. He was well aware was less than pleased but the order was over his head, even if he did agree that it was risky and it would only deter their efforts, he had no choice but to allow it and pray to whatever God there was that no one would be killed, “Listen it’s and in an out op, the kid’s been on the field before.”

Simon grumbled pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked at the captain, almost having to strain his eyes to see it through the darkness. Sure he had seen consoles come onto the team for certain operations, but not for this type of one, not one that would require this much attention to detail, not one that would be risky even for him. Then atop of the already risky mission, he would have to babysit some knee-weak mechanic, and lord knew he would be dumped with them because no one else would even give them a second thought- it was idiotic. And he would be sure to tell Price about his opinions.

“What ‘bout protocol? The ranks? To even know the task force exists is clearance nine!”

“Since when have you ever given a shit about protocol?” Price retorted and then stood back up, picking up the file and looking it over, “Full scholarship to MIT, been in the field for over ten years, girl’s a borderline genius. Like it or not she’s comin on and guess what? For the lip you get to greet her.”

“Not babysittin it.”

Price narrowed his gaze and glanced up at Simon, almost amused by the man’s harsh words, “Oh? Now you get to show ‘er to her bunk.”

Simon let out an exasperated laugh, almost in shock by it all. He was being downgraded to a babysitter, something any rookie could do with easily, something so very below his paygrade, “Make Johnny be the welcome wagon, ‘etter at it.”

“No, you’re doin it.” He tapped the folder and then held it out for the lieutenant to take, not bothering to make his expression even look pleased, so when the man reluctantly took the file he spoke again, his voice growing more annoyed with each syllable. “Get a move on, she’ll be here within the hour.”

With a grunt Simon looks down at the file and turns on his heel, mind whirling at how stupid all of it was, how stupid of a mission they had to go on was, how stupid whoever chose to put some random mechanic on the team was, how stupid Price was for making him be the stupid wagon. Well, replace stupid with much cruder words and maybe quite a few insults, and then it would accurately describe his mental dialogue. Just as he reached the door of the office he heard Price call his name and for some reason, not for some reason there was reason, he thought about ignoring him. With a sigh, he turned about halfway to assure his captain he had his attention.

“Don’t scare her, need her for this op.”

‘Don't scare her’ he mentally mocked as he walked through the base, almost laughing at the choice of wording, there is nothing he did better than scare people. It was a part of his MO so of course he would scare whatever mechanic they deemed fit to come onto the team. Hopefully, for his sake and theirs, he would be able to scare them off before the mission happened.

“It’s been forty-seven hours, I’m tired, I’m dirty, and I’m hungry,” Your words were mainly to yourself as the random solider handed you the duffle bag you had oh so perfectly packed, and you tell just by how lopsided the weight was that it had been ransacked. You had just spent the last two days in a carrier, only stopping twice to get fuel for the craft and you weren't even allowed to look outside because that was ‘above your clearance’ to know where you were and no one offered any food and you were stupid enough to think you would have some sort of meal provided on the trip. So, your grumble was more of a plead for food, or somewhere to take a nap, instead, you were met with your bag to your chest and no response.

With a hum you walk off the hangar, the base itself was bustling, people all within their own heads and no one even knew you existed, which may be for the better because you felt like a fish out of water. You had been told that someone would be there to give you more information but you were currently standing with a bag at your feet, no phone, no reference for anything, and a lot of panic pooling in your gut. Sure, you were smart, socially well, you got along well with others but…You hated when you felt out of place, so standing there well it might as well be your worst nightmare.

When you hear your last name hissed from behind you you close to trip over your own feet to look behind you, only to slightly wish you didn’t. Growing up you were of average height, and a strong build and you felt pretty alright with your stature- yet at that moment you had never felt so small to put it simply. The man before you looked the part you assumed he was, a soldier, one who probably had…issues judging by the skull mask and the black clothes, or maybe he just never outgrew his emo phase.

“Oh.” You couldn’t keep the small squeak from your throat from coming out and you tuck your hand under your arm to pull off your glove, holding out your hand as you forced a smile to introduce yourself. The man before you just eyed you put down and then held out a tablet for you to take. So, you nod and take it, “Okay…cool? What is this?”

“Your schedule for the next week and a half.” He quipped harshly and then began to walk off, getting about halfway across the hangar before he realized you were simply not following and he stood still, “Civil!” Simon heard you let out a small ‘oh!’ and then approaching footsteps as if you ran over to him

Simon's gaze remained impassive as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your simple outfit and unassuming demeanor. There was something about you that piqued his curiosity, which for whatever reason he found more unsettling than anything else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something that drew his attention, even as he looked away there was the faint growing feeling that he needed to look back- which was disgusting and foreign and he hated it so he resisted it with all of his might.

"We'll meet the rest of the team tonight," Simon stated, his tone clipped and businesslike as he continued to walk towards one of the main halls.

"Okay, and…," your voice trails off as you look through the schedule and then bite back a laugh as you see how…well scheduled it was, not a minute was left for anything, even your nightly schedule was not your own (something you will be ignoring) and you nod. "That is at 17:30 thank you, Lieutenant Riley."

“How do you know that?”

Your head shoots up and look at him and you let out a small hum, realizing your error by addressing him by a name you really shouldn’t have known you look down at the tablet again, so with a nervous tic of clearing your throat your gaze lowers to the tablet again,“C…Can I plead the fifth to that?”

“No.” His words left room for silence until he reached the quarters, the one that used to be an office so the bed was only a pull-out sofa and by far it was the closest to the garage, and he could tell by your confused stare up at him that you were baffled on why he stopped walking and he motioned to the door. “Yours.”

“I get my own room?” The lightheartedness to your slightly ecstatic quip was met with a lifeless stare and you nodded, opening the door with a laugh following your sigh, “This is so cool! Usually, when I work for the military they put me in the barracks-” You spin around to see him with a beaming smile upon your expression, “Thank you.”

Unshokcingly all you were met with was a nod and then being left to your own unpacking, so you nod and then move to close the door. Not that you needed to unpack, afterall you would be on base for about a week and a half, and then your little ‘mission’ and then you would be free to go home. This would be easy. Super…easy, right?

;

“Tha’ little thing??” Johnny interrupted with a flabbergasted look on his face, almost falling over from the next punch Simon landed on the boxing bag he had supposed to be holding steady, sure he knew they were getting a consult but- “She’s gunna die.”

Simon looks at him from the boxing bag, holding out his hand to steady it, “No shit.”

“Cap’n okay with it’?”

A small pause and then Simon raises his fists again, “Don’t know. Meet ‘er tonight.”

I’m still new to this still, feed back would be sooo appericated!

Chapter 1, part two

#simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost x reader #cod x you #cod fluff #johnny cod #john price x reader #john price #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #ghost x you #ghost imagine #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader

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katyawriteswhump · 4 months

Text

Freestyle love (Steddie holiday drabble)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22 prompt, Sports AU.

Nobody ever wanted Eddie Munson on their swim squad, and uni competition was no different. Until Steve Harrington decided to play by the rules.

WC: 966. Rating: T.

CW: none really. Tags: Enemies to lovers, whump, university/college AU.

***

"Munson's freestyle times smash half the teams.'" Steve pushed his wet hair from his eyes, double-checked the stopwatch. “He’s in."

"That science geek pond-scum?” asked Steve's swim co-captain, standing with him beside the pool. "No way. You read the numbers backwards again, Harrington?"

"Shut up. I’m calling this one."

When Steve broke the news, Munson pulled off his swim-cap and a mass of dark, damp hair tumbled out. “One of your teammates said my tats automatically disqualify me,” said Munson.

“That’s bullshit.” Steve actually found Munson’s freaky tattoos bizarrely compelling. Oh, and the body beneath—all lean rope-like muscle, not massive shoulders, but a decent swimmer’s physique. “We need you. You beat most of the sports scholarship guys.”

“I know.” Munson shrugged. “And you can take my place on your dumb squad and stuff it up their buttholes.”

“What the heck, man? Why did you trial, if you don’t want in?”

“To show you over-privileged frat-house dicks you ain’t special. I qualify every year—you’re just the first knucklehead to notice. Anyhooo.” He poked his tongue out stupidly. Steve planted his hands on his hips and couldn’t glare harder. “I’m off to Who Soc.”

“What Soc?”

Munson’s shoulder clipped Steve’s as he passed—possibly an accident, but he nearly toppled Steve into the pool.

“Screw you, man! Crawl back to your den of Satanist freaks, like I care.”

“Yeah?” Munson poked out his tongue again, wiggled his fingers. “Hexing you, Harrington. Oooooh, bet you’re pissing yourself.”

***

Eddie had simply been getting one back for the little guys, against all those over-pumped numbskulls.

He still felt bad when he heard what happened at the inter-state semis—some moron dived into the pool on top of Harrington in the shallow end, breaking his leg.

It bugged Eddie. So much he wound up visiting Steve at the hospital.

When Eddie sidled into Steve’s room, Steve’s pale face—peeking from behind his plastered leg in traction—said it all: What the heck?

“Hey,” mumbled Eddie. “Guess I’m the last person you expected.”

“On my list of expected visitors, you were somewhere below Elvis.” Harrington seemed pissed. Also genuinely bewildered.

He was still sexy as hell.

Especially now Eddie couldn’t find it in his cold, metal-loving heart to hate the guy. Mmmm, and was it kinda wrong to wanna lick those well-muscled arms, and picture him shirtless… even when Harrington glowered at him from a hospital bed?

Eddie raised his palms in half-hearted surrender. “I owe you an explanation. I’ve been doing swim trials since Middle School. My time is always good—the place I grew up in was right by a lake—yet nobody ever gave me my place on the squad before. This face never fits.” He gurned a silly grin. “Then you went and flew in the face of all the laws in the universe and offered me ‘in.’ I guess it... blew me away.”

“I was only following the goddamn rules.” Steve grumpily puffed his flatter-than-usual hair from his eyes.

“Yeah, and I was a dick, and the Hex thing was dumb. I didn’t really… you know…”

“I don’t blame you for my stupid accident.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a complete moron. I'm scraping a pass in English Lit, okay?” As the atmosphere softened, Eddie shuffled nearer Steve’s bed. “Good job. Who's gonna keep me here on a sports scholarship now?”

“Sorry, man.”

“Jesus, it’s not your fault!” Up close, Harrington looked exhausted, possibly even in pain, with dark smudgy shadows around his eyes. “You know, you can do something to make this less shit.”

Eddie’s heart squeezed oddly—gratefully? “What?”

“Take my place in the squad.” Steve mumbled toward hands clasped in his lap. “I recorded your times, made it official. The place is yours to claim. I'd tell the team myself… if any of them came to visit.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nobody’s got time for a swim co-captain who’ll never swim competitively again.”

A lump clogged Eddie’s throat. Harrington’s face worked strangely, too… Shit, shit, shit! Eddie reached out, tentatively squeezed Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked up sharply, eyes large and liquid. Damn, the boy was tense.

“That stinks,” said Eddie.

“Yeeeah.” Steve’s laugh was shaky, while Eddie’s mind raced:

“Dude, I’m in a ton of non-sports societies. D & D, model-making, Who Soc… Uh, maybe not that one for you. I can bring a few of the guys and gals here, see if you get into anything.”

“I don’t need YOU to find me friends.” Harrington’s spikiness proved short-lived. He unleashed a resigned sigh: “Look, man, I’m not exactly in the mood for parties, but… If you wanna come back… that would be cool.”

Suddenly, neither of them could look at each other. Eddie’s face was burning. Could he actually be into me?

“Tho’ if you’re not fresh from swim practice when you arrive, I’m not interested, Munson.”

Eddie hooted: “You blackmailing me?”

“I can play dirty, ya know, buck expectations, too.” Steve went in for the kill. He smiled up at Eddie, a proper, hot-as-hell smile, which reached his too-pretty brown eyes.

Is he hitting on me?!? Eddie gawked like a goldfish.

“See you tomorrow?”

***

On the day of the national finals, Steve watched from the stands. When Eddie slammed home for victory on the final leg of the freestyle relay, Steve was on his feet—okay, propped by his crutches—cheering his head off.

As soon as Eddie could get away, he clambered, wet and dripping, through to the rear of the stands and planted an even wetter kiss on Steve's lips. Steve threw his arms around his boyfriend. It was great to finally be with somebody to whom only the real things in life mattered.

"Love you, Champ," he whispered in Eddie’s ear.

"Love you, too." Eddie kissed him again.

Victory had never felt so hot.

***

Thanks for reading :) Also part of my steve whump fic series (mainly steddie) on ao3

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic

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literaryavenger · 2 months

Text

Captain America: Civil War - 5

Summary: Team Cap gets taken to the Raft.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries. Language. Mentions of Y/N. A little angst if you squint. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: Thank god it took me very little to finish this one! Hope you like it!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The Raft.

That’s where they sent you after they arrested you in Germany. The fucking Raft.

You haven’t even seen Wanda since you were handed your very unstylish new clothes and they made you change.

You got separated from her when they took you to your cell between Scott's and Sam's. You dread what they're going to do to her, but you're powerless to stop them.

You sit on the ground of your cell and don’t move from there, barely registering what happens around you until the sound of clapping snaps you out of your trance.

“The Futurist, gentlemen!” Clint shouts but you still don’t move, just listening to the scene. “The Futurist is here! He sees all! He knows what's best for you, whether you like it or not.”

“Give me a break, Barton.” You hear Tony say and almost show some emotion, but stop yourself. “I had no idea they'd put you here. Come on.”

You hear Clint spit and then say “Yeah, well, you knew they'd put us somewhere, Tony.”

“Yeah, but not some super-max floating ocean pokey. You know, this place is for maniacs. This is a place for…”

“Criminals?” Clint interrupts him. “Criminals, Tony. Think that's the word you're looking for. Right? That didn't used to mean me. Or Sam, or Y/N, or Wanda. But here we are.”

“Because you broke the law.” Tony says.

“Yeah.” Clint says back and starts chanting “La la la la la” while Tony talks, making you grin slightly.

“I didn't make you. You read it, you broke it.” Tony keeps talking. “Alright, you're all grown up, you got a wife and kids. I don't understand, why didn't you think about them before you chose the wrong side.” he says and your face falls again immediately, knowing Tony went too far.

“You gotta watch your back with this guy.” Clint says before slamming his hands on the bars angrily. “There's a chance he's gonna break it!”

“Hank Pym always said, you never can trust a Stark.” You hear Scott say from the cell on your right.

“Who are you?” Tony says, his voice closer to you than before, and you can hear Scott mumbling “Come on, man.”

Tony gets to your cell and sees you sitting on the ground, hugging your knees tight to your chest, your head resting back on the wall while you look straight ahead.

Tony is nothing short of shocked when he sees your face all beat up and bruised, your arm bandaged with blood seeping through it showing just how big and deep the cut is, all courtesy of Ayo.

“I never wanted to see you like this...” Tony says softly but you don’t even react to his words.

He’s standing in front of you but it’s like he’s not even there, like you’re looking right through him to something more interesting behind him.

Tony sighs and shakes his head before moving to Sam’s cell.

“How's Rhodes?” Sam asks right away.

“They're flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow. So… fingers cross.” Tony answers and you close your eyes, grateful that he’s still alive at least. “What do you need? They feed you yet?”

“You're the good cop now?” Sam asks almost in disbelief.

“I'm just the guy who needs to know where Steve went.” Tony answers calmly.

“Well, you better go get a bad cop, because you're gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me.”

“Oh, I just knocked the 'A' out of their 'AV'.” Tony says, much too playfully for your taste. “We got about 30 seconds before they realize it's not their equipment.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his next sentence. “Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong.”

Your eyes snap open at his apology and, even though you can’t see either of them, you know Sam’s feeling the same way as you, which is confirmed by his next sentence. “That's a first.”

“Cap is definitely off the reservation but he's about to need all the help he can get. We don't know each other very well. You don't have to-”

“Hey, it's alright.” Sam interrupts him, then you hear him sigh and after a little pause he says “Look, I'll tell you… but you have to go alone and as a friend.”

“Easy.” Tony says and Sam proceeds to tell him all about the Hydra base in Siberia and the other supersoldiers.

When Tony leaves, Sam once again tries to make sure you’re okay even if he hasn’t had luck at getting an answer out of you since you got here.

He knocks twice on the wall between you two then pauses and then knocks three more times fast before talking, a thing you two started doing since you both moved into the Avengers Compound so you would know it was the other knocking right away. “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer him and can hear him sighing before continuing talking.

“Look, I’m sorry you got caught up in this and-”

“I don’t regret the choice I made, Sam.” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence, speaking up for the first time since you got arrested at the airport. “As much as this sucks, it was the right thing to do. I know it was.”

You don’t say anything else. Sam can tell you mean it and he knows better than to push you.

“They’ll be okay.” He says after a moment of silence and then lets you be.

You know he means Steve, Bucky and Tony but you can’t help but think he’s trying to reassure you that Bucky’s gonna be fine.

And you can only hope that he’s right.

A couple of weeks after Tony’s visit there’s a commotion in the prison.

You haven’t so much as made a sound since that day, aside from your daily knock on the wall between you and Sam so he can make sure you’re okay, knowing you well enough to know you don’t want to talk but still wanting to check in.

But you can’t help but let out a loud gasp when you see Steve just standing in front of your cells.

You look around when the cell doors open and you hesitantly get up from the floor and walk towards Steve. He hugs Sam, then you, then Clint and then pats Scott on the back, but doesn’t linger long before he’s guiding you towards another level where Wanda is.

You get to her just as the door to her cell opens and you rush inside with Clint to take off her collar while he takes off her straightjacket. You hug her tightly and wrap your arm around her with Clint to help her move you since she looks a little worse for wear.

You manage to move through the prison without problems. You have to hand it to Steve, he’s a hell of a criminal.

When you get to the landing pad you see the Quinjet ready for take off and you all rush inside just to see Bucky at the commands and you smile brightly at the sight.

You have no time to comment, though, as Sam shouts “What are you waiting for?! Go!”

Bucky rolls his eyes but calmly says “We have one more coming.”

You frown. One more? You turn to Steve confusedly but before you can ask anything you can see blond hair darting into the Quinjet and then Natasha’s there.

Bucky instantly takes off and you all take seats and buckle up.

There’s a moment of silence while everyone processes what just happened, but you break it while looking at Natasha that’s sitting directly in front of you.

“Are we gonna talk about the hair?” You ask arching your eyebrow with a smirk.

She groans in annoyance and you can hear the others chuckling while she says “We are not.”

After a few hours you all get to a safehouse and Steve ushers you in before showing you around.

It’s not bad: a secluded cabin with three bedrooms, not too big but Steve assured you you wouldn’t be staying there long anyway. Which makes sense, you're on the run now so this is just temporary.

After the tour Bucky approaches you in the living room and only then you notice he’s missing his metal arm.

“You flew the jet with only one arm? That’s impressive…” You can’t help yourself as you reach to touch his left shoulder, your eyes fixated on it. But stop on your tracks when you feel his right hand carefully cupping your cheek.

Your eyes snap up to his and you can see him thoroughly inspecting the wounds in your face that are still healing a little. He grimaces when he looks down at your bandaged arm and whispers “I’m sorry…”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sergeant.” You smile softly at him and put your hand over his still on your cheek, trying to reassure him that you’re fine.

“I bet you can, doll.” He chuckles.

You’re too busy staring at each other to notice everyone’s attention is on you until Steve clears his throat with an apologetic look on his face.

“We need to go, Buck.” He says and you look confusedly between the two men.

“I’m going back into cryo.” Bucky clarifies for you.

“Oh.” Is all you can say and your eyes widen for a second before you force yourself to put on a more neutral face.

“It’s okay.” He smiles at you, but you feel like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, doll.”

You try your best to smile and not look too bummed out. “I bet you can, Sergeant.”

You hesitate for a moment before surprising him, the others and even yourself by giving him a hug. He hesitates too before delicately hugging you back and, after a moment, you pull away.

He smiles at you with a faint blush and you smile back, watching him walk to the door.

Steve passes you on his way to the door and kisses your forehead, whispering “He’ll be okay” before saying goodbye to the rest of the team, assuring you that he’ll be back soon. Then he also goes through the door and soon both the supersoldiers are gone.

You turn around with a sigh and see Sam, Natasha and Clint standing there, grinning at you, Wanda and Scott looking more compassionate than teasing.

You narrow your eyes at the first three and say sternly “Not. A. Word.” punctuating every word by pointing threateningly at each of them.

They raise their hands in mock surrender while snickering but thankfully don’t say anything and everyone just scatters around the safehouse.

You see the Quinjet depart from the window and try your best to look at the bright side: This isn’t forever, you’ll see him again.

Right?

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham @mary-jinx @abbyyourlocalmilf @selcouthial @esposadomd @americaarse

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 5 days

Note

I hope you’re having a good day! I wanted to request a fic with Jimmy (or jey, I love them both) where the mc is a bridesmaid at their sister’s wedding and she meets one of the groomsmen (Jimmy) and they start to really like each other. The sister warns mc that Jimmy is a playboy but things start to heat up quick between the two anyway! You can add or take away any aspects, have fun with it. Thanks, I love your writing!

The Bridesmaid - Jimmy Uso x OC

thank you @summerssoldierxx for the request. Sorry it took so long to get out. Hope you like it! 🫶🏽

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Main Masterlist

“I thought it was against the rules to look better than the bride.” Summer Cooper rolled her eyes and let out a sigh as she turned to face her newly brother-in-law’s best friend. Jimmy or Jonathan - she was very confused about the two names - had been flirting with her since they met at the rehearsal dinner last night. And she was flirting back, heavy until her sister pulled her to the side.

“Do not get involved with Jonathan Fatu okay.” Her sister Vanessa said. “He ain’t nothing but trouble and I won’t allow you to become another notch on his bedpost.” Summerhad never seen Vanessa look so serious before so she left Jimmy/Jon alone and ignored him the rest of the night. She was doing a good job at ignoring him during the wedding too, even though they walked down the aisle together.

“Damn you ignoring me? I thought we hit it off?” Jon broke her out of her thoughts.

“Listen.” Summer trailed off. “I’ve been told about you and your little games and I will not be another one of your victims.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Summer furrowed her eyebrows because Jon actually looked hurt and shocked at what she said.

“Oh ight. Shoot, my bad.” He said rubbing his hands together before walking away from her. She bit her lip as she watched him walk away from her. She quickly pushed him out of her mind and went over to her sister.

“I seen you talking to Jon.” Summer rolled her eyes.

“Yup. Told him to leave alone. Happy?” Vanessa smiled and placed her hand on Brittany’s shoulder.

“I’m only looking out for you.I don’t want to see my baby sister hurt.” Summer rolled her eyes and nodded her head.

“I understand. You just looking out for me.” Summer forced a smile on her face. “Now go dance with you husband.”

Summer laughed as she watched her nephew do his best TikTok dances on the dance floor. She picked up her champagne flute and took a sip as she looked around the banquet hall, the bitter feeling was back in her stomach as she watched all of the happy couples but once she looked at her sister and her brother - in -law she had a small smile on her face. That was what Summer wanted, someone who loved her unconditionally. And it seemed like every time she thought she found the one they wound up being complete jackasses who weren’t worthy of her time.

“Who is that man and why does he keep staring at you?” Summer furrowed her eyebrows as she looked in the direction her mother was looking and felt her heart stutter in her chest as her eyes met Jon’s.

“One of Dontae’s friends.” Summer replied as nonchalantly as she could. She arched her eyebrow as Jon pushed himself off the wall and started making his way towards her table.

“Hi i’m Jon” He said walking up to her mom and holding his hand out and Summer’s mom shook his hand.

“Oh, you’re Jon.” Her mom said, causing Summer and Jon to furrow their eyebrows. Jon looked at Summer who held her hand up and shook her head. “I’ve heard some things about you.”

“Apparently, everybody has.” He said, his eyes still on Summer who rolled her eyes and picked up her champagne flute, taking another sip.

“You wanna dance with me?” He asked Summer and before she could turn him down, her mother spoke for her.

“She would love to.” Summer shot her mom a look. “Summer Renee, don’t look at me like that. You might be thirty but I'm ya momma and will still whoop ya ass.” Summer shot Jon a glare as he tried to hide his laughter behind his hand. She rolled her eyes , stood from her seat and walked away from Jon and her mother towards the dance floor.

She let out a huff as the DJ started playing a softer, slower song. Jon smirked and pulled her closer to him, taking her arms and wrapping them around his neck before wrapping his own arms around her waist.

“So, what did you mean by you didn’t want to be another one of my victims.” Jon stated, getting straight to the point and instead of answering right away, Summer let her eyes wander around the room and stilled as they landed on her sister who was watching her and Jon dance. Summer shook her head and cleared her throat.

“I’ve just heard some things about you and.” She paused and shrugged, “Listen, I like you and I’m not tryna get my feelings hurt. Okay..” She said averting her eyes from his.

Jon scoffed. “What makes you think I was going to hurt you? Like I told you earlier, I thought we really hit it off yesterday. I’ve told you some shit I aint even told my twin brother.”

“Really?” She asked shocked and Jon nodded his head.

“Yeah, I’m not a liar, Summer.” She bit her lip and cut her eyes back over to her sister who was still watching them. Jon followed her eyesight and cracked a smile.

“Ohh, your sister is the one who was talking shit.” He let out a laugh. “Big sis looking out for lil sis, I get it now. What did she tell you?” Summer shrugged and mumbled,

“That you a playboy and that she wasn’t gonna let me become another notch on your headboard or something like that.” Jon bit the inside of his cheek and nodded.

“Wow. Aight, imma be completely honest with you right now.” He started and stopped dancing , so the two of them were now standing still while everyone else around them continued to dance. “I was married and got divorced about two years ago. And in those two years, I’ve had sex with one person.”

When Summer just arched her eyebrow in response, Jon sighed. “I told you I'm not a liar, Summer. I told you yesterday that I really liked talking to you. I ain’t try nothing with you, did I?” She shook her head. “Exactly, If I was a playboy wouldn’t I be trying to get you in my bed? Look, You live here in Pensacola right?” She nodded. “Aight so fuck what ya’ sister saying and have breakfast with me tomorrow. Get to know me without having your sister in your ear saying how much of a bad person I am.” Summer bit her lip and nodded her head, causing Jon to flash her his pearly whites.

He pulled his phone out of his suit pants pocket. “Here, put your number in my phone.”

Summer took it, but before she put her number in she looked him in his eyes. “Don’t make me regret this, Jon.” Jon smiled and took her other hand into his own.

“You won’t I promise.”

Sorry, this took me so long @summerssoldierxx. I really hope you like it and if you have anymore request, send them in ❤️.

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tightjeansjavi · 7 months

Text

Slow Hands | Chapter 7

“the losin’ touch, the waiting game”

A/N: so originally this was not going to be a super long chapter, but I felt like a lot needed to be said and boy, was I right. This is another angsty one, but I promise there will be more development of Joel & Beanie’s relationship coming in the next chapters!

Summary: Joel faces punishment for his violent actions towards Lucas. Tensions rise when Joel makes some accusations that test Tommy’s loyalty towards his brother.

~word count: 8.3k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! reader

Warnings: angst, family arguments, bigotry, picking favorites, punishment, tension, trauma responses, alluding to depression, explosive anger, resentment, violence against an animal (not depicted but there’s enough detail for assumptions to be made) mentions of a bullet wound, deprecating negative thoughts, mild gaslighting, unknown motives, mixed emotions, making up, starting over, soft Joel!, protective! Joel, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions (skin color/body type) readers nickname is Beanie (coffee beans) +18 minors dni!

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“Joel, do you know why the community that Tommy and I have built here has been able to thrive for so long?” Maria inquired her brother-in-law who was presently sitting across from her and Tommy. In short, Joel was brought in for questioning after Lucas showed up to Doc's home a few nights back with his broken wrist and a layer of skin missing from the side of his face where Joel had it shoved against the stone wall.

Word had traveled fast through the community, and Tommy clearly didn’t have his brother’s back.

Joel was irritated to say the least. He was hurt by his brother, hurt by Ellie, and by you. He knew you didn’t have the intentions to hurt him, and he couldn’t hold it against you, but man, did it sting.

“Because you don’t condone violence amongst community members.” He gruffly responded under his breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw was clenched under the sunlight peeking through the windows as he grinded his teeth together.

“Exactly, so what do you think happens when someone in our community acts out violently?” Maria mirrored his actions as she leaned against the bar countertop with a deadly serious look on her unamused face.

“For fuck sakes, Maria. You ain’t have to lecture me like I’m a goddamn kid. Jus’ fuckin’ reprimand me for my actions and get on with it.” He snapped.

“Don’t talk to my wife like that, Joel. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Tommy chimed in as he stood up from his chair but Maria held her hand out in a stopping motion, giving her husband a warning look.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. You’re actin’ like I killed the guy! I broke his wrist and roughed him up a bit. You both realize I could have made it so much worse, right? What the fuck else was I supposed to do? You saw the emotional state Beanie was in after Lucas grabbed her! Y’wanna reprimand me for doin’ what I feel was the right thing? Be my guest, but I won’t sit around here another fuckin’ minute while you lecture me for it.” Joel threw his hands up in the air frustratingly. He didn’t like to be put on the spot, especially by his own family.

“You’re off patrol for two weeks. You are not authorized to leave your house under any circumstances. Tommy will bring you your meals. If you demonstrate good behavior, then I’ll allow you to return to patrol before the two weeks are up.” Maria spoke calmly.

“You’re forcin’ me into fuckin’ isolation? Wonderful. Ain’t like I don’t already know what that feels like on a personal level.” He grumbled under his breath as he stood up from his chair in a haste. He had nothing left to say to either his brother or sister-in-law, and even if he did, it would have fallen sharp on his tongue from the anger that was simmering in the pit of his stomach like a kettle on the stove just waiting to boil over.

He didn’t even pay attention to the sound of the bar stool scraping behind him as he shoved open the bar door on its hinges before storming out. Tommy was right behind him, calling his brother’s name as his palm came to rest along Joel’s shoulder.

“What the hell is the matter with you, Joel?!” Tommy hissed under his breath as the older Miller brother whirled around to face him with a stern look.

“You didn’t even bother to fuckin’ defend me, Tommy! What the hell happened to havin’ each other's backs?! You knew exactly what I was gonna do! Don’t stand there lookin’ at me like that as if you wouldn’t have gone and done the same if it was Maria havin’ a fuckin’ panic attack on that goddamn bathroom floor!” Joel snapped as he yanked his shoulder from his grip.

“Defend you?! What in god’s green earth would I defend you for?! You assaulted Lucas! Every goddamn person saw you drag him into the alley, Joel! This has nothing to do with Beanie, and everythin’ to do with you tryin’ to be the bigger man! For fuckin’ what? To burn some steam off?! Lucas grabbed her arm! He didn’t grab her in a malicious way, Joel!”

“Oh, so that just fuckin’ makes it okay?! You’ll defend him but not your own goddamn flesh and blood? So be it.” Joel spat as he jabbed one of his fingers directly in the middle of Tommy’s chest. “Y’know what I fuckin’ think? I think you’re a goddamn pussy, Tommy. I don’t regret what I did, and I’d fuckin’ do it again in a heartbeat. So don’t even bother bringin’ me my meals. I don’t want to fuckin’ see your face.” His voice cracked as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. Tommy could see his finger trembling as his brother struggled to keep his composure.

“I never fuckin’ said that it makes it okay, Joel! Did those words leave my goddamn mouth? No. If you would just let me fuckin’ finish? Lucas shouldn’t have grabbed her. He had no right to touch her, but Jesus Christ, did you really have to go and break his fuckin’ wrist for it?” Tommy sounded exhausted and on the verge of defeat.

“If I didn’t go out there and teach him a lesson, then no one would. If that kind of behavior goes unpunished, what kinda message do you think that sends to the community?” He was awaiting Tommy’s answer but when he didn’t receive one, he scoffed under his breath and turned on his heel to head home.

Tommy did agree with him. That kind of behavior couldn’t go left unpunished, but he couldn’t argue with his wife and her judgment on the situation. He was between a rock and a hard place when it came down to taking his brother’s side, or his wife’s. Joel’s behavior had to be addressed, but what of Lucas’s and Seth’s? Was he really about to let bigotry fester like an open untreated wound in his community?

“Joel..” Tommy uttered in an unsure tone.

“What?” Joel muttered back in a bitter gnawing tone.

“I’m sorry.” Tommy wanted to say more. He should have said more, but he couldn’t find the words.

“No, you ain’t. You ain’t sorry for shit, Tommy. Couldn’t even defend your own goddamn brother back there? Fuck you. I’m done here.” Joel snapped before he walked off, leaving Tommy in the dust.

Tommy was going to have to swallow his ego one way or another, he was going to have to swallow it and not throw it right back up. So that’s exactly what he did, he swallowed down his pride with one hefty gulp before he walked back into the Tipsy Bison where Maria was still standing in the same position she was in previously before Joel had stormed out.

“Maria, we oughta think about this whole situation through a lil’ more rationally. I ain’t sayin’ we shouldn’t reprimand Joel, but takin’ him off of patrol for two weeks ain’t the way to go about it.”

Maria raised an eyebrow in her husband’s direction with a tight shake of her head. “So, Joel throws a hissy fit and you then decide to take his side? Tommy, he assaulted Lucas. He broke his wrist. He’s lucky we aren’t fucking throwing him out of town. I could have easily exiled him, but felt that was too harsh of a punishment to instill on my brother-in-law.”

“Maria, I hear you, but what about Lucas’s actions? Seth’s? If we’re gonna punish my brother, we should punish them as well. You and I both know I’d never let you throw my brother out. Don’t even bring somethin’ like that up.” He warned her with a disappointed tilt of his head.

“How do you propose that we reprimand them? It would be unfair if their punishment was as severe as Joel’s. Neither of them acted out in a violent manner, Tommy.” Maria attempted to reason with him.

“Maria, with all due respect, Seth called Ellie and Dina a homophobic swear. He harassed them in fuckin’ public. You and I did not witness the way that he grabbed Beanie. No one did because they were in the corner outside of the bathrooms. He claims all he did was grab her arm, but how are we to know for certain?”

Maria let out a sigh as she dropped her arms at her side. She did not enjoy disagreeing with her husband, but it came with being a leader. If Joel goes unpunished for his actions, what kind of message does that send to the community? On the same token, Seth and Lucas’s behavior was unacceptable as well. “Okay, let's meet in the middle on this issue then. Joel is off patrol for 1 week and he’s on house arrest during the evening. Lucas and Seth will be on septic tank duty for that week.”

“I don’t think it's wise for us to take Joel off patrol at all. Maria, he’s one of the most able bodied men that we have. Takin’ him off patrol could put the town at risk. I’m jus’ sayin’ that I personally don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“We have more than enough able bodied men on patrol, Tommy. One week without Joel isn’t going to be detrimental.”

Tommy let out a sigh as he shoulders slumped forward knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to convince her. Maria was pretty damn hard headed when she needed to be. “Alright. I ain’t gonna argue any further. I’ll let Joel know, but after he’s cooled off a bit. He was practically steamin’ out there.”

It was Ellie’s suggestion that her and Dina go and check in on you. It had been days since you left your home since the incident at the Tipsy Bison. You were practically rotting away on the couch in the same spot that Joel left you. Still dressed in the same clothes, with the cup of tea he made you left untouched on the coffee table. You watched the sun rise, and fall each day. You heard the birds chirping outside the window, and the buzzards singing their song, but you did not move. It was as if you were dead from the inside out. Your skin felt filthy after being unwashed, and you could faintly taste copper along your tongue where you had chewn the fleshy bit of your cheek to ruin. Your cuticles were torn with crusted blood along the edges. You welcomed the pain with open arms. You couldn’t even recall tearing your nail beds to shreds.

When you heard the faint knocking at your front door your head just barely turned to acknowledge the sound. You could hear two familiar voices just outside the open window where the cream colored curtains billowed softly in the breeze.

“Hey, Beanie?” Ellie called. “You in here? It’s jus’ Dina and I. Can we come in?”

No answer.

“Well, it’s rude if we just barge in there, El.” Dina whispered.

“It’s been days since anyone has seen her, Dina. We gotta make sure she’s alright.” Ellie whispered back.

You blinked slowly at the clicking sound of the front door being opened.

“Beanie?” Both girls softly whispered amongst each other as they stepped inside.

“In here.” You croaked. Your throat felt raw and rubbed dry like scratchy sandpaper. Was it not just days ago where you had moments of wanting to kiss Joel? Now look at where you lay.

“Oh, Beanie..” Dina trailed off as her and Ellie discovered your curled up frame on the couch.

You diverted making eye contact as the two teenagers approached. Kindness felt so foreign to your skin.

“Have you been laying here all this time?” Ellie asked as she lowered herself along the edge of the coffee table.

You meekly nodded in response.

Your sullen eyes slowly flitted up when you saw the look that Dina and Ellie gave one another. It was the look of concern, not pity.

“Can we help you up?” Dina softly asked as her hand reached out to gently touch your arm.

“No.” You whispered as you turned your face into the pillow.

“We gotta getcha out of the clothes and into a bath or somethin.’ Can’t just let you rot away like this, Beanie.” Ellie was so much like Joel that you would have believed that she really was his own blood.

“Please don’t touch me.” Was all you could muster out as Dina slowly retracted her hand.

Dina and Ellie opted to sit with you instead until Ellie grew curious when she noticed your record collection on the nearby bookshelf. “Y’mind if I take a look at these?”

“Knock your socks off, kid.” Well, at least your humor hadn’t shriveled up and died in some hole too.

Ellie didn’t need to be told twice as she pushed herself up from the coffee table and padded over to the bookshelf. She was extremely careful as she flipped through the records. “Woah, Stevie Nicks? What I wouldn’t have given to see her live.” Ellie murmured softly.

“She was incredible. Saw her for the first time in ‘87. I was just a teenager then. Stevie always had somethin’ special. Grew up listening to her along with Zeppelin, Queen, Depeche Mode, just to name a few.” You mumbled as you slowly sat up from the previous fetal position you had been in.

“Holy fuckin’ shit. You saw Stevie live?!” Ellie lit up like a goddamn firefly as she set the record down gently.

“Kid, I've seen them all live. The 80’s and 90’s were a time to be alive. My friends and I went to as many live concerts as we could. Traveled around the country at one point in an RV. Totally tried the whole groupie thing for The Rolling Stones. I may or may not have kissed Mick Jagger at one point. He was definitely way too old for me, but as a teenager I could have given two shits.”

“Oh my god, you kissed Mick Jagger? Beanie, you swear you ain’t makin’ this all up?” Ellie and Dina were both immediately drawn into your past as you recalled memories being a teenager back in the day.

“I swear on my parents grave, I am not making this up. Back then concerts weren’t all that expensive, and my parents were pretty big hippies so I had a laid back childhood and upbringing. They were always playing music in the house and took me to my first concert when I was 10, and from there the rest was history.”

“Do you have any pictures? I love Depeche Mode. I listen to them on my walkman frequently.” Ellie stated excitedly.

“I’ve got what’s left of the pictures I salvaged after outbreak day. They’re upstairs. I’ll go and get them for you girls.” Suddenly the world didn’t feel like it was weighing down on you like a bag of bricks. Your lungs breathed in a hefty gulp of fresh air, and it no longer felt like you were drowning in an endless sea. It had been years since you brought up your past, but to see both Dina and Ellie show genuine enthusiasm and curiosity? It sent a warmth simmering up your spine.

It didn’t take very long for you to find the box of pictures inside one of your dresser drawers. They were a fair bit dusty and faded, but they instantly brought back wonderful memories that you clutched so tightly to your heart. You shared the same giddy excitement as the two teenagers on your couch as you brought the pictures downstairs.

You sat comfortably between Ellie and Dina as you went through each picture in vivid detail. You were Texas born and raised, and you were damn proud of it. Your parents were the definition of peace, love and happiness. They raised you with goodness in your heart and harmony in your soul. You learned to share your space with simple living things. You always had a soft spot for animals with the dream of becoming a veterinarian from the day you could walk. Turns out, you couldn’t stomach blood very well so Vet school was out of the question. This didn’t deter you from saving every injured creature that would cross paths with you.

The yearning to own an establishment came later in life. At first you thought about opening an art store, apothecary, nursery, or even a bookstore. Coffee was one of your favorite pleasures, and that’s how cuppa smiles came to be. That was the beauty of life at its core. You could wake up one day and decide that you didn’t want to be the person you were presently. You could change your looks, your wardrobe, your aspirations and hope that you got it right this time around.

“Hey, Beanie? Would it be alright if I kept this picture of you?” Ellie asked. The picture was of an 18 year old you. It was graduation night and you were in the back of some guy's pickup truck with a bottle of cheap champagne in your grasp. Your smile was bright and full of life. Eyes wild, filled with mischievous as you grinned at the camera. You were the epitome of beauty. A woman who had made it, and had her whole life ahead of her.

“Sure, you can keep it. I haven’t looked at these photos in years, so it’s nice to see them getting some attention. Is there a specific reason why you wanna keep that one?” You asked with genuine curiosity.

Ellie turned, looking at you with a knowing smile as she held the photograph gently between her fingers. “You just look beautiful and happy.” She murmured with a shrug. Little did you know..Ellie had all the intentions to pin the photograph up on the fridge at Joel’s right where he could see it every morning, and every night.

“It was graduation night. I was absolutely drunk out of my goddamn mind in that photo. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall out of the damn bed of the truck. That dress I was wearing was a real killer too. It was my favorite.” You looked over at her with a small smile tugging on your lips.

For the rest of the afternoon you told the teenager’s more stories, played a few albums on your turntable. Suddenly, taking a shower didn’t seem so terrible anymore. Ellie and Dina gave you your privacy as you bathed, but they stuck around to keep you company through the approaching evening hours.

For a moment that voice inside of your head was muffled, gagged by kindness and unable to lash through it with its sharpened claws. One night of peace seemed a hell of a lot better than none.

Whenever Joel was feeling particularly stressed, he would turn to the domestic comfort and safety of his woodworking shop that was tucked away in his shed behind his home. He did have a little workspace upstairs in his room. His shed was like his own personal safe haven. He could escape there for hours while his hands crafted something beautiful. The same hands that could break a man’s neck in one swift movement could also be held steady while he carved intricate details. Antlers for a moose, swift hooves for a mustang, delicate ears of a doe. Hands that could bruise, and hands that could heal. Hands that clutched a knife and held a life between his weathered fingertips. Hands that grasped a gun like it was an extension of his body. Hands that would tremble, hands that were bruised, torn, broken. Hands that could hold your face so tenderly, so softly as the rough texture of his thumbs brush your tears away.

The rain was softly pattering along the roof shingles as he was working on his newest piece. It was two horses nuzzling in an affectionate way. It was Tex and Tess. He was working on the wispy strands of your mare’s mane when he heard footsteps slowly approaching the small space between the open door. His undamaged ear zoned in on the exact movement as he deciphered who it was. It wasn’t Ellie. It wasn’t you..so that narrowed down his choices immediately. Based off the distinct sound of hesitation, Joel knew it was Tommy and his demeanor already shifted as he tossed his chisel into the nearby toolbox before crossing his arms over his chest with a gruff sigh.

“I come in peace.” Tommy reassured his brother as he gently pushed open the shed door with his shoulder.

“Y’sure about that Tommy? You ain’t come here to rub salt into the wound?” Joel muttered under his breath, nostrils flaring slightly. He was still pretty fucking pissed off at his brother if it wasn’t obvious enough by his body language alone.

“No, i’m here cus’ I was able to get through to Maria on decreasin’ your punishment.”

“Wow.” He huffed, “It’s a fucking miracle.” He deadpanned with a tight shake of his head. “Y’tell her it’s a fuckin’ stupid idea to take me off patrol?”

“Well, I was able to convince her to decrease your punishment to one week off patrol instead of two. I tried to tell ‘er that it’s a risky decision to take you off patrol, but she wouldn’t listen.” Tommy responded as he sank down into the chair nearest to the door.

Joel scoffed as he jaw clenched tightly. “Listen, I respect your wife, Tommy. I’m all for women’ bein’ in leadership roles, and she’s done a damn good job keepin’ this town safe, but she’s got some poor fuckin’ judgment right now. I give it one day before someone gets their head blown off out there.”

“Joel, what the fuck else was I supposed to do, huh? You’re fuckin’ lucky she didn’t decide to throw your ass out.” Tommy bit back.

“She’d be a goddamn fool if she threw me out. She jus’ wanted to make an empty threat so you’d be an obedient husband. She never wants to admit when she’s fuckin’ wrong. Whatever, I'll eat my goddamn punishment with a smile on my face.”

Tommy rang his fingers through his hair with a sigh as he sank back into the chair. “Yeah, well I personally think Lucas and Seth are bein’ let off easy for their actions. They’re gettin’ a week on septic tank duty.”

Joel turned in his chair fully as it scraped across the ground. He let out a full on belly laugh as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ septic tank duty?!” He hissed. “Y’gotta be fuckin’ jokin.’”

“I ain’t.”

“Lucas has a broken fuckin’ wrist! How the hell is he gonna do shit? Not to mention he’ll jus’ find a way to get out of it. Seth is jus’ an old racist n’homophobic fart. He’d rather drop dead before he takes a punishment.” Joel could feel his blood begin to boil at the distaste towards Maria’s choice of punishment.

“Joel, I know you ain’t a fan of Lucas cus’ of how he grabbed Beanie, but you’re gonna drive yourself mad holdin’ a grudge like this. Seth is your stereotypical dickhead, and if I had the authority to kick him out myself? I would.”

“It ain’t have anythin’ to do with Beanie, Tommy.” Joel was quick to snap back. “I don’t trust the guy. Y’remember when we found those bodies in the woods? He barely blinked an eye! He’s got the whole goddamn town wrapped ‘round his finger just cus’ I broke his poor poor wrist. He’s like a snake, i’m tellin’ ya!” He spoke exasperatedly without a care in the world if he was making some wild accusations. Accusations were only false until evidence was presented to turn that false claim to be true.

Joel watched as his younger brother scrubbed his hand down his face with a roll of his shoulders. “Jesus Christ, Joel. Do y’hear yourself right now?! Fuck. Y’can’t be goin’ n’makin’ these wild accusations without any evidence to back it up! Look, I ain’t a huge fan of the guy either, but I ain’t gonna be wavin’ my finger around like you are.” He shook his head disappointedly.

“Course you ain’t. Why don’t ya jus’ go’n turn a blind eye like everyone else then. Go ahead and be a fuckin’ sheep, Tommy.”

Tommy breathed in deeply through his nose with his eyes squeezed shut. He knew that Joel was smart. Smarter than most of the community would believe him to be. Joel also wouldn’t go and make wild accusations without having valid emotions set behind it. If Tommy was going to prove himself to be loyal to his brother, then he was going to have to start making those tough choices now.

“Alright, lets jus’ calm down here for a second, alright?” Tommy tried to reason with him.

Joel was dead silent as he leaned his weight against the chair with a stern look crossing his weathered features as he waited for his brother to continue.

“If you’re suggestin’ that y’wanna start keepin’ tabs on Lucas’s whereabouts, you better have a damn good plan at not gettin’ caught. Cause if this whole thing goes up into fuckin’ flames? Y’know I ain’t gonna be able to defend you without a solid amount of evidence. I’ll take the bullet for ya, but you better give me a damn good reason to, Joel.”

“That’s exactly what i’m suggestin’, Tommy. Maybe I've got it all wrong. Maybe I'm losin’ my mind, but somethin’ about him ain’t sittin’ right with me. If I'm proven wrong, there won’t be a bullet for ya to take.” His tone was much softer now as he un-tensed his shoulders and jaw.

“Alright. Y’do what you gotta do, but don’t let anyone, and I mean anyone, figure out what you’re up to.” Tommy declared in a serious tone as he pushed himself up from the chair.

“Thank you.” Joel murmured.

“For what?” Tommy asked with a slight raise of his brow.

“For havin’ my back.”

“That’s what brothers are for ain’t it? Jus’ don’t make me regret it, Joel.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Tommy responded with a slight nod before he was slipping past the shed door and into the steady rhythm of rain.

Joel sank back further into his chair as he faced his work bench once more. He gently blew off a bit of wood dust that had settled along Tess’s delicately carved forelock. He worked on the sculpture for hours into the late night until he inevitably fell asleep at his work bench with the soft pattering of rain to lull him into slumber.

Maria was eating her words after one day of not having Joel on patrol. Cody was grazed in the shoulder by a stray bullet that was shot at point range from the nearby treeline. Raiders, no doubt. This one was just a scout, but a skilled one. Not as skilled as Tommy, who ultimately took him out.

Maria dismounted from her horse as Tommy was checking the body for any clues. Any information that would lead them to the raider camp. His search was fruitless. Unrewarding as he crouched down along the bloodstained earth with a sigh. His eyes narrowed in on where his bullet was buried in the scout’s temple, right between his eyes that were now staring up at the dove gray sky, cold and lifeless for eternity.

“I told you it wasn’t a wise idea to take Joel off patrol.” He muttered under his breath as he stood up straight.

Maria ignored her husband as she stood over the body. “Are there others?”

“No. Jus’ the one. That ain’t to say that this one didn’t come from a camp. Most likely was a scout.”

“I thought they would have moved on by now. What the hell are they sticking around for?” She asked with a shake of her head. As far as she was concerned, the raiders should have moved on by now. What was their purpose for sticking around? There weren't nearly enough of them to devise a plan of attack on the town.

“No clue. What I will say is that we’re gonna have to patrol the area more frequently. Expand our routes in every direction. More importantly, Joel is back on patrol startin’ tomorrow.” He leaned in close to his wife as he spoke. This wasn’t him asking for her permission, this was him telling her.

Maria didn’t argue with him.

Joel was back on patrol the following morning. He remained neutral with his sister-in-law. He felt no reason to be smug, especially when he was trying to keep a low profile on himself. It did come as quite the surprise when Maria showed up on his doorstep to personally ask him herself. Now, he was back in the saddle on Tex with the strap of his rifle resting across his shoulder as he rode next to Tommy.

It was fairly quiet as Tommy mapped out the next patrol routes to take. Tex and Timber were as quiet as two mice as their sturdy hooves flattened the earth beneath them. There were no alarming signs of raiders. No danger that could be detected as Tommy placed a marker down at the midpoint. Joel had eased Tex to a halt as he leaned down and gave him a gentle pat on his jet-black neck. His eyes zoned in on a rustling in the tall wispy grass. He noticed fur and white spots as he carefully dismounted. Tommy was half paying attention to his brother as he was scribbling something down on the map.

Joel had slowly crouched down as his hands gently pushed apart the tall grass. There he found a tiny fawn, not more than a day old, curled up in a protective position with only the tips of its tawny colored ears visible. His face softened as he gazed at the innocent creature. He wondered if its mother was nearby. He knew that fawns were often left in a safe area while the doe would search for food. He was just about to stand up when the wind direction shifted and the stench of death attacked his senses.

“Holy fuck.” Tommy stated in disbelief as he was standing over the fawn’s dead mother. At first he thought this was the work of wolves or another predator, but this was man. The poor creature was butchered in a disrespectful and heinous way. Both brother’s had butchered many game animals for meat, but not in the way that would send a grown man buckling to his knees and retching the contents from his stomach. The doe’s body was mangled to say the least. The details were too gruesome for even Joel or Tommy to describe.

“Wolves?” Tommy asked in an unsure tone. He knew the answer.

“No. Wolves wouldn’t kill like that. This was man’s work.” Joel grimaced.

“A warning?” There was a sharp edge to Tommy’s tone as he leaned his weight back into the heels of his boots.

Joel kicked at a patch of torn up grass with the toe of his boot. “Can’t know for sure, but it’s a possibility.”

Both Miller brother’s attention diverted to movement in their peripheral vision as the fawn had hesitantly crept out from the tall grass. Its legs were still a bit wobbly with each step it took towards Tex and Timber. Both horse’s were gentle and curious as their heads lowered towards the tiny, defenseless creature. The fawn’s coal black nose nuzzled against Tex’s before it collapsed to the ground with a squeak.

“We can’t leave it out here to die, Tommy.” Joel sighed as he placed his hands on his hips.

“What the hell are we supposed to do? Take it back with us? Joel, it’s a goner without its mom. Jus’ let it meet its fate.”

“No. It’s innocent. Jus’ barely a day old. It doesn’t deserve to die out here alone or god forbid get torn to shreds by wolves. I won’t stand for it.” Joel muttered as he approached the fawn once more. The poor thing was trembling as it tried to escape between Tex’s front legs.

“Hey, easy there little one. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” Joel softly spoke as he shrugged his flannel off his arms. “You’re alright. You’re safe. M’gonna take care of ya.” He cooed as he gently brought the flannel around the trembling creature and scooped it into his arms. The fawn struggled for a moment as it cried out for its dead mother. Joel continued to soothingly speak to it while his fingers gently stroked the top of its delicate furry head. Once the fawn recognized it was no longer in danger, it settled in Joel’s arms and soon fell asleep as it was ridden with exhaustion and malnourishment.

“Where are ya even gonna keep a fawn, Joel?” Tommy asked as he mounted back onto Timber with a huff.

“Dunno. Maybe I can make a pen or somethin’ next to Tex’s stall. I’ll figure that out when we get back.” He gruffly spoke as he used his free arm to mount back into the saddle. He was careful to not jostle the fawn too much as he held it securely with his freehand clutched around the reins.

He tilted his head downwards in a somber motion towards the fawn’s deceased mother.

I’m sorry, my dear. Man can be so cruel. So unforgiving towards Earth’s innocent creatures.

The tidings of a new morning kissed your skin like dew drops along a flower petal. You were so grateful for the company of Ellie and Dina. They had shown you unconditional kindness that came purely from their souls. Now you have two new friends. The three of you would become as thick as thieves. Until then, you were back in your shop with the door propped open to welcome in the fresh late spring breeze. Summer was on the horizon in a day's time. You decided to spruce up a little to get your mind off Joel and how you dismissed him on your couch after the incident. Your heart hurt as your mind replayed the image of his hurt stricken face as he slipped past your door. The night was so perfect, too perfect. You knew you’d see him again, but when? Under what context? You couldn’t blame him for not seeking you out. You never meant to hurt his feelings and of course he knew that, but your heart still stung. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

You were drawn away from your present thoughts when the bell dangling along the door chimed. Your heart skipped a fucking beat as you immediately assumed it was your Joel. You were already subconsciously checking your appearance in the mirror along the wall when you heard someone clear their throat. Your face fell mildly for a moment when you turned the corner. It wasn’t your Joel; it was Lucas, with a visible bandaged wrist.

“Hey, Beanie.” He waved with his good hand as a lopsided smile spread across his lips.

Your eyes zoned in on his bandaged wrist as he approached the countertop where you were presently standing. When did that happen? How did that happen? Who broke his wrist? Did..Joel have something to do with this?

“Lucas? Hey, how are you doing? I uh–wasn’t expecting you to drop by.” You calmly spoke as you nervously played with your fingers behind your back.

“Could be better. Nice place y’got here. I shoulda stopped by sooner. What’s your speciality?” He gestured to the chalkboard menu above the countertop.

“Lattes. Any flavored latte really. Would you..like one?”

“Sure. Surprise me with the flavor.” He shrugged as he looked around with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m sure you’re wonderin’ why I stopped in today, huh? I just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other night. I had no intentions to send you any mixed signals, Beanie. If I was coming across in a suggestive way, I am very sorry.” He apologized in a calm and collected manner as he stood a few inches from the countertop.

“Oh, it’s alright. I suppose I should apologize as well for the way that I reacted? I’m just..not used to people reaching out and grabbing me like that. I am sorry for causing a scene. I know that you didn’t have any ulterior motives. Was the way I reacted a direct result in the cause of that bandage around your wrist?” You asked quietly as you grabbed a mug for the latte.

“My wrist?” He chuckled then as he leaned his elbow against the countertop casually. “You could say that. Your guard dog has himself a bit of a temper. S’a good thing it was a clean break. Scraped my face up pretty good too.” He responded in such a casual tone that you couldn’t help the slight chill that rolled down your spine like a dripping faucet.

“Im..sorry? My guard dog? Are we talking about Joel? He broke your wrist?”

“Darlin’ who else would act that way? Yes, it was Joel. Cornered me in the alley and shoved me against the wall.” He tsked under his breath with a sigh.

“Lucas, I'm so sorry. I swear, I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t tell him to go and break your wrist.”

“Beanie, s’alright. He’s a violent man. Probably woulda killed me with his bare hands if he got the chance. Anyway, I jus’ wanted to make sure I cleared the air with you first and foremost.”

Your stomach felt slightly queasy as your fingers trembled out of sight. You weren’t naive. You knew that Joel had killed numerous people in order to survive for this long. You held no judgment towards him. Everyone had to kill at some point in order to survive. Why would he act in such a manner if he no longer had to function in survival mode? Joel’s violent outburst towards Lucas wasn’t sitting right with you at all. You could feel your heart rate increase as you clutched your chest with a shaky breath.

“I’m–i’m sorry he did that to you, Lucas. I appreciate your apology, and I accept it.” You stuttered out as you nearly spilled a bit of coffee on your hand while you were handing him the mug.

“Like I said, it’s alright. Don’t go and worry your pretty little head over that violent Joel Miller. Thanks again for the latte.” He was looking right into your eyes now as he took the mug from your trembling hands. He stepped back from the counter followed by a tip of his imaginary hat in your direction. “See ya around, Beanie.” He left through the front door of your shop moments later and disappeared down the street.

You were left frozen on the spot as you used a rag to wipe away the stray dribbles of coffee from the counter. Your hands were still trembling as you busied yourself with more cleaning.

Joel would never. He wouldn’t.

Oh, but he would.

He did.

Why would Lucas lie about his wrist?

Joel is a violent man.

It's in his nature.

He’s dangerous.

Unpredictable.

A ticking time bomb.

And you’re a fool if you think otherwise.

Maybe that nagging voice inside of your head was right. Maybe Joel wasn’t all you believed him to be. This was about to be put to the test when his familiar scent wafted in through the open door. You heard his boots scuff along the wood flooring as the bell chimed above his head. He was holding something in his arms. You couldn’t tell what it was, but by the flushed expression on his face, whatever it was held a sense of urgency to him.

“Beanie.” He breathed out as he held the bundle in his arms close to his chest.

“Joel.” Your response was meek as you stepped around the corner of the countertop.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. Couldn’t leave this poor baby out in the wilderness to die.” He murmured urgently as he approached.

“Joel, what are you talking about?” You asked with a hint of caution laced in your tone.

“This..fawn. Tommy and I were patrolin’ and I found it in the tall grass. Its mother was..killed by wolves presumably. I couldn’t just leave it out there. It’s barely a few days old.” He spoke softly as he gently pulled back the flannel to reveal the tiny fawn’s head. Its big brown eyes stared up at you with thick black lashes. The fawn showed timid curiosity as it sniffed the air for any immediate threats.

“Oh my goodness.” You whispered in disbelief as you peered down at the innocent creature.

How could a man be so violent, yet be tenderly holding a fawn in his arms as if it was fine delicate china that would shatter from the slightest touch.

It made your head spin.

“I ain’t got a single clue how to take care of it, and there's no tellin’ if it’ll make it through the night. Can..you help me, please?” He looked into your eyes, pleading silently.

“Joel, of course I'll help you. It's probably starving. Why don’t you..sit down and i’ll get some milk. Hopefully the poor thing will drink it.” you murmured in a hush tone as you disappeared behind the counter. There was a fridge in the back room that stored milk, cream and the occasional snack or two. You grabbed the small bottle of milk and a bowl before returning to the front area. Joel was sitting stiffly in one of the chairs as the fawn laid comfortably in his lap. You took the seat across from him with the bowl and milk bottle sitting on the table before you poured a bit into the bowl. “Here, put a bit on your finger and see if it’ll nurse.”

He slowly looked over at you before he nodded and used his free hand to dip one of his fingers into the bowl. The fawn was already lifting its head towards the familiar scent of milk and when Joel slowly lowered his finger towards the fawn’s nose, it immediately began to nurse. Joel stilled in his seat for a moment as images of a baby Sarah nursing from a bottle in his arms surfaced through his mind. She was so tiny. A silent tear rolled down the cavern of his cheek as the fawn sucked the few drops of milk from his finger.

“Joel?..”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as he went to brush the stray tear away.

“Joel, what..happened after you left the bathroom?”

God, she knows. She knows and now she’s afraid of me.

You watched as he inhaled a sharp breath before his eyes slowly flitted over to yours. He held a steady contact before he finally spoke.

“I did what I felt was right. It’s not alright for anyone to go and grab someone like that. He had no right to touch you, Beanie.” He breathed out.

“And you had the right to break his wrist?” Your voice trembled slightly as you watched the way his face fell.

“Beanie, I–couldn’t jus’ let him get away with that. I only wanted to protect you.” He tried to reason with you.

“Joel, I never asked you to protect me. You can’t just go and break people’s wrists just because they touched me. Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?”

“You never had to ask. It comes naturally to me. Look, I've already been punished for my violent actions. I couldn’t leave it alone because you were a wreck. I came into the bathroom and you were thrashing like a goddamn fish in Tommy’s arms. You wouldn’t even let me get near you for over ten minutes. Don’t you remember? Honey, you were in fuckin’ shambles.” He nearly whispered as his voice cracked.

“I–I don’t remember, Joel. I don’t remember any of it.” You could feel the tears begin to brim along your waterline as your fingers trembled in your lap. “I..was that bad?”

“Beanie..you tucked yourself between two sinks with your back facin’ Tommy and I. My intentions were to just..rough him up a bit. He didn’t even know what the hell I was gettin’ on him for. He acted like he had done nothin’ wrong. Look, if you hate me now, and you ain’t want nothin’ to do with me, jus’ please save it. I’ve endured enough pain in my life. Jus’ rip the bandaid off if that’s what you gotta do.”

“What?” You looked over at him with tears freely rolling down your cheeks, mirroring his own. “Joel, I don’t hate you, I just didn’t understand why you did what you did. I wish that I remembered what had happened so that I could wrap my head around this whole thing. Lucas came in here about twenty minutes ago and told me what happened. He also apologized for how he acted, and then he left.”

Hell had suddenly frozen over in Joel’s world when you recounted Lucas having the nerve to show up to your shop and apologize for his behavior. Joel knew he had to remain calm despite the temperature of his blood skyrocketing. Lucas was here. He was in your shop, and Joel was not happy about it.

“Beanie, S’alright that you don’t remember what happened. I don’t wanna end up triggerin’ your memories or nothin.’” He sighed softly as he thought about the careful choice of words he’d have to use when discussing Lucas. “Lucas was here?..Well, I'm glad that he apologized. Is that all he said?”

“Joel, it’s not okay that I don’t remember. I can’t fucking recount anything after the moment he grabbed my arm. It’s all a blank screen in my mind.” Your tone alone gave away how frustrated you were as you vigorously wiped away your tears. “He–said that you’re a violent man, and that I shouldn’t worry my pretty little head about it.” You whispered the last bit out as your eyes drifted down to your trembling palms that were resting in your lap.

Joel bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough that he could taste copper along his tongue. He swallowed hard as he tried to calm his nerves. How dare he. How dare he try and turn you against him. What was this little conniving snake trying to stir up now?

“He’s right. I am a violent man.” He muttered under his breath. “I’d be a fool to sit here and try to lie to you, Beanie. I’ve done some godawful things in the name of survival, but I'd never hurt you. I’d never grab you like that. I’d never cross those boundaries. Beanie, please jus’ be careful, okay? Please.”

“Joel, I know you’d never hurt me. I don’t care that you’re a violent man. Who am I to judge you? Everyone has had to kill to survive. I’m no saint either. Look, neither you or I can go back to that night. I wish I could. I wish I could reverse the clock because I was having such a good time with you, Joel.” You looked over at him with glassy eyes as you sniffled softly.

“You..don’t care? Do you truly mean that, Beanie? I was having such a wonderful time with you as well. I’m sorry that I allowed myself to act upon violence. I should have jus’ stayed in the bathroom with you and Tommy. Should have stayed with you.” His head dropped slightly in mild defeat.

“Joel, of course I mean that. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for pushing you away when you tried to comfort me on my couch. You were just trying to help and I pushed you away..”

“Sweet girl, you don’t have to apologize for a goddamn thing. You needed space, so I gave it to ya. You know your body best. I wasn’t gonna try’n force you to let me stay. Last thing I wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.” He murmured sincerely.

You wanted to laugh through your tears when he called you sweet girl. You weren’t anywhere near the age of a girl anymore, but it was still a thoughtful gesture that you appreciated more than you realized.

“Can..we start over? Can we put this all behind us?” You asked hesitantly as your hand slowly reached across the table.

“Course we can. There ain’t anyone here that can tell us that we can’t. Clock’s still goin’ but that doesn’t mean we gotta stick with the times. We can go at it at our own pace. Whatever we’re comfortable with.” He reassured you as his hand that wasn’t occupied with the fawn reached towards you across the table.

Your fingertips brushed before they interlocked in a gentle squeeze as you both fell into a moment of silence.

“What do we name this little one?” He asked softly as he dipped his free finger back into the bowl of milk.

“Bambi?” That seemed like the obvious choice given the circumstances.

“Nah.” he murmured with a boyish grin. “How about Beanie number 2?”

“How original.” You mused with a soft smile on your lips.

“Or what about Honey? Pretty sure it's a girl.” He shrugged.

“Honey. I like it.” You murmured as you squeezed his hand gently.

“Y’hear that, Honey? We’re gonna take care of ya. Remember that horse you were nuzzlin’ on? That’s Tex. He’s gonna be your protector too. We’re gonna make sure you have a good life, alright little one?” He spoke so softly to the innocent creature that gazed up at him like he had crafted the sun for that fawn with his bare hands in his toolshed.

How could a man be so violent, yet so tender.

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

At Arm's Length

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After being forced into a marriage with the twenty-five men— technically, you agreed to it, so you weren't really forced into it, you couldn't help but yearn for a genuine connection with the men. You end up expressing your feelings about your marriage with your twenty-five husbands to Lumine, who is also your sister in law.

Note: Short-ish fic for this week since it's been a hectic week for me ;v; Not really sure how I feel about this fic since I do feel burned out from not only school but from writing fanfics as well 😵‍💫 It's a new quarter for me, and I'm just trying to keep up with school, my readings, and writings. I don't think this would count as angst, but just to be safe, I won't be tagging people that don't want to be tagged in angst or hurt/comfort. Next week's fic might be either Tagic Outcomes or Caught in the Crossfire since it's been a while since I've typed something for those two fics. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Would marriage count as a warning?

Word Count: 7k

This strange relationship you have with twenty-five men— it’s fake. There are no feelings attached, no physical touch or intimacy. No strings attached, as your world would call it. Usually, relationships that have no strings attached to them would be friends with benefits. You hate the friends-with-benefits title. It sounds depressing to you because it’s a “friendship” between two people where they do everything a typical relationship would have, only there are no romantic feelings involved.

You have been in that situation before, but it ended fast because you wanted to be more than that, and the person left because you broke the number one rule. Not to catch any feelings, and that is what you did. Oh, what a fool you are. How could you, a hopeless romantic, be in that kind of situation? You didn’t expect to be in an arranged marriage situation with twenty-five men from an open-world game you’ve been obsessed with for quite some time.

A stack of paper is slammed on the table in front of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up at the older woman, who looks like she does not want to show up to work today.

“Please sign your first and last name here, and your… husbands will sign their names after,” the lady instructs, sliding a large stack of paper toward you.

You look at the stack of papers with wide eyes. These are marriage certificates, and you have to sign twenty-five pieces of paper. You turn to look at the twenty-five men standing two feet behind you. Pierro nods as if he’s signaling for you to go ahead and sign the papers. The majority of the men look uninterested, almost bored.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn to look at the papers laid out in front of you. Marriage certificate, huh? You will be legally binded to the twenty-five men for who knows how long— perhaps until they all get bored of you and leave you one day without any notice. Just the thought of being abandoned so suddenly makes your heart clench. How did you end up in a situation like this?

The woman sitting at the front desk clears her throat, raising her eyebrows at you. “Are you going to sign the papers or not?” She asks with an attitude.

Your face heats up with embarrassment while you mutter an apology before grabbing the pen lying beside the stack of papers. You begin to sign your name on the marriage certificates. A marriage certificate is a contract, and contracts can’t be broken unless necessary. Well, at least that’s what you assume. You don’t have much knowledge when it comes to contracts, but a certain former Archon may know a thing or two about contracts.

After signing all twenty-five marriage certificates, you step to the side and let each man sign their name on the paper. Each paper is a marriage certificate between you and one man. While you’re technically married to twenty-five men at once, the marriage certificate and the government of the men’s respective regions (if they have one) state that you’re married to one man. Though, you have no idea how that’s going to work out since most of these men live in the same region as the other.

“There. It’s been done,” Xiao says, grabbing your attention.

You watch each man hand their pens over to the lady behind the desk. She takes the pen and begins to put the marriage certificates in a white envelope with gold borders. You walk to the woman, who begins to hand you each envelope.

You’re not sure how this works or how it’ll work. You weren’t prepared for marriage, nor did you plan on getting married so soon. The stack of envelopes in your arms starts becoming heavy the more the woman stacks one envelope over the other. While the envelope is thick and glossy, holding the stacks in your arms feels like lead. The woman puts one last envelope on the stack and nods.

“You’re all dismissed,” she says.

You and the men walk out of the building without saying a word to each other. I mean, what’s there to say after something like this? These men found you unconscious outside of Dragonspine. When you came to consciousness, you were met with various weapons pointing at your face. It took you a while to reassure them that you’re not a threat— how can you be a threat when you don’t have a vision or any weapons on your person?

Tensions are high, and silence hangs in the air. The tension is so thick you can suffocate in it. The sun is high in the sky, the birds are chirping, and the civilians are going on with their day, unaware of the situation.

You break the silence. “You guys are acting like I’m forcing all of you to marry me when I never brought up that idea. We can go back to the clerk and destroy the certificates if that makes you all happy,” you said.

“There’s no need to go back to the clerk to have the marriage certificates destroyed. What’s done is done, and you cannot break a contract once it's signed by the party involved,” Diluc says.

Archons, you hate this so much. You weren’t the one that brought the idea up to the men. It was them that suggested it for your “protection.” Ever since you revealed to them that you weren’t from their universe, they suggested that you should get married to them so that they can protect you from the Abyss and other potential harms that could come your way.

Because you know too much about what happened in their world that they’re unaware of, it was best for them to be betrothed to you to protect you and your identity. At least that’s what you were told. Quite frankly, there could be a better alternative. Still, the twenty-five men were adamant about the marriage option, and you weren’t sure why. You didn’t want to start any more issues with them, so you went along with their choice, and now here you are— married to twenty-five men.

A few months go by, and it’s been a few months since you have been “married” to the twenty-five men, and while you’re their significant other, they keep you at arm's length. Everything feels awkward between you and the men. They weren’t cold or rude to you. They didn’t mistreat you or make you feel alienated from the rest. You’re unsure if it’s because of your lack of relationship experience or if it was something else because everything felt awkward.

Since you are legally their partner for however long, the twenty-six of you need to put on a show to prove that your marriage is legitimate and not illegitimate. No matter where you all are, you have to get used to calling each other partners. They’re your husbands, and you are their spouse.

You’re going to be really honest here. It feels like you’re putting more effort into this role than these men are. It almost feels like you’re the only person that is trying to make it work despite how awkward it is. After all, it feels like an arranged marriage because these men don’t have feelings toward you— at least, that’s what you’re assuming. Since you’re not a citizen in Teyvat, you spend your time at the abode, cleaning, cooking, and watering the plants in the backyard because there’s nothing for you to do, really.

Instead of Thoma cooking food for everyone, you’re the one that does it. Of course, Thoma was opposed to it at first, but you insisted on cooking because they have jobs and duties to tend to, whereas you’re at the estate doing house duties.

You wake up around close to six in the morning to start your day. While you hated waking up early in the morning, you thought getting up before everyone else would make the men feel relieved in a way. After all, you don’t work or go to school. You could apply to Sumeru Akademiya and be a student there, but it would raise some suspicions, according to Al Haitham and Kaveh.

You’re not a fan of waking up at an early time, but ever since you and the twenty-five men have signed the marriage contract, you have been making it a habit to get up early in the morning to start your day ahead of everyone’s schedule. You’re standing in the kitchen in your pajamas, packing twenty-five lunches for each man. You made sure to cook their favorite dishes and include some snacks from the regions they’re from. It’s a lot to do, but you’re getting the hang of it.

“And we’re done!” You mutter to yourself, sighing in relief when you wrap the last lunch bag for the last man.

You yawn and stretch your arms in the air. You lined the lunch bags next to each other, labeling each bag with the men’s names on it so they wouldn’t mix up their lunch bags with someone else’s bags. That would’ve been a disaster if it did happen. You rub your eyes and walk to the stove, cracking eggs into the pan and begin to cook yourself some breakfast.

The kitchen door creaks open. You turn your head to see Thoma walking into the kitchen dressed for the day but with a bedhead. You crack a smile and look away before Thoma can see it. Thoma hums softly, walking over to where you’re standing.

“Morning, Thoma. I hope you slept well last night,” you said softly, cooking the eggs before you while Thoma dug through the refrigerator for water.

“I slept well. I hope you slept well, too, because it’s almost seven in the morning, and I don’t understand how you’re able to pack everyone's lunch before we all wake up,” Thoma murmurs, leaning against the counter beside you after grabbing a cup of water to drink.

You shrug. “It’s not as easy as I hoped it would be. That’s all I can say. Everyone has their likes and dislikes, and I have to make sure to prepare the ingredients the day prior,” you reply.

You look at the clock hanging on the wall and reach for the spatula. It’s almost time for everyone to get up for work, and Thoma is the only person that is awake. You’re not sure whether it’s because Thoma is used to getting up early ahead of every other man in the estate or if he’s used to waking up early because of his duties at the Kamisato Estate. But either way, you’re happy to have some kind of company, even if it’s short-lived.

“Thoma, it seems like you have yet to fix your bedhead,” the voice of the Kamisato heir breaks the short silence between you and the housekeeper of the Kamisato Estate.

Thoma laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “I tried to fix it, but there’s no use in getting it down when it’s stubborn,” Thoma sighs in defeat.

You continue to cook your breakfast while Thoma and Ayato hang out in the kitchen, chatting quietly near the island of the kitchen. You grab a plate and scoop the eggs, putting them on the plate while debating whether you should cook some bacon to go with your eggs for breakfast or not. The kitchen door opens once again, and more men walk into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes while muttering under their breaths.

You let out a silent gasp and smack yourself in the forehead, mentally cursing yourself for being forgetful. How could you make lunch for your husbands to take to work when you forget to brew them coffee and tea?! Dammit, dammit, dammit!

“Don’t hit yourself!” Scaramouche grumbles, smacking your hand away from your face with a small scowl on his face.

“Yeah! There’s nothing to beat yourself over. You made us lunch like you promised,” Gorou says, grabbing the small lunch sack from the kitchen island.

You sigh and rub your throbbing temples. “Of course, I would make you all lunch to bring to work with you all, but I forgot to brew coffee and tea for you guys,” you murmur. “Archons, how could I be so stupid and forget that?”

“You’re not stupid for forgetting to brew tea and coffee for us, [Y/N]. You were occupied with cooking lunch for twenty-five of us. There’s nothing worth beating yourself over,” Dainsleif says, walking over to the coffee pot.

“I’ll do better next time, I promise. My forgetfulness has caused everyone to be late for work,” you mutter, chewing on your bottom lip.

Childe throws his arms over your shoulders and pats your head. “Late for work? The clock just struck seven! If anything, we’re up pretty early, and we should leave the house not too long from now. Plus, some of us don’t thrive on coffee and tea,” Childe says.

“You do not need to worry about anything. You’re doing fine, and none of us are upset with you just because you forgot about coffee and tea. Plus, you cooked lunch for the twenty-five of us to bring to work. The least we can do is make our coffee and tea,” Al Haitham says, entering the kitchen with a peeved Kaveh following behind.

Kaveh stands beside you, crossing his arms over his chest with his chest puffing out. You look at Kaveh worriedly and lightly tap his arm. Kaveh continues to glare at Al Haitham before looking at you. You freeze for a moment when he looks at you with the same expression on his face. Kaveh notices your change in demeanor before relaxing.

Kaveh pats your head. “Sorry, [Y/N]! That glare wasn’t for you. It’s for that idiot over there with his stupid noise-canceling headphones,” Kaveh says, shooting a glare over at the Acting Grand Sage.

You weren’t sure if Al Haitham didn’t hear what Kaveh said because of his noise-canceling headphones or if he was intentionally ignoring Kaveh’s comment. You smile at Kaveh and pat his arm lightly before continuing what you were doing before the other men entered the kitchen. Once everyone is awake and ready for work, you pass everyone their lunch bags with their names on them.

You stand by the door of the estate and bid them goodbyes as they walk out the door. Some men pat your head on their way out, and others either give you a hug or squeeze your shoulders. Despite being married to them for a few months, this is the only kind of affection you were getting from the twenty-five men.

Just when Baizhu is about to close the estate’s door, you quickly stop him by grabbing his wrist. Baizhu stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, surprised and confused. You release Baizhu’s wrist and give him a strained smile.

“Remember to take your medication, alright? I know you work at Bubu Pharmacy, and your job is to take care of others and give your patients their medication, but please take care of yourself as well,” you whisper.

Baizhu looks at you with surprise before giving you a warm smile. Baizhu chuckles softly and pats your head, almost ruffling your hair. You laugh quietly and grab Baizhu’s hand, gently squeezing them.

Baizhu nods. “Of course, I’ll take care of myself. I promise,” Baizhu says, making a crossing motion over his chest.

Baizhu leans over you and presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out the door, leaving you at the entrance of the estate, speechless. You touch your forehead, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You press your lips into a thin line to prevent yourself from smiling widely. You close the estate’s door and lock it.

Before you and the men got married for your safety and to keep Teyvat at peace, they promised to each other and to themselves that they would keep you at arm's length. You’re sweet and down to earth, but because some of them have dangerous professions and you’re not from their world, they wanted to keep this distance between you and them. Your husbands do not hate you, and they’ve made it very clear on multiple occasions.

“If we seem cold toward you, we do not hate you. We don’t hold any disdain toward you, nor do we hold any grudges toward you.” Cyno would say as he is sitting across from you.

You nod and dig your nail into the wrinkly skin of your right ring finger— a bad habit of yours when you were a child that dragged on to your adulthood. You usually dig your nails into the wrinkly skin of your right ring finger when you’re stressed, nervous, or bored. It doesn’t hurt at all, nor could you feel it.

Tighnari clears his throat. “Do you have any other questions?” Tighnari asks, gazing at you curiously.

You hum to yourself and tap your fingers on your thighs. “I want to know why some of you will be acting cold toward me,” you mutter, puckering your lips.

“To be fair, some of us do it unintentionally,” Albedo interjects.

You couldn’t help but agree with Albedo on that. Some men do come off as standoffish and cold even though they’re not. It’s how they are to people in general, not just you. For example, Xiao is standoffish, but that doesn’t mean he hates you or holds any grudges toward you. If anything, Xiao wanted to distance himself from you because of his karmic debt, and because you’re mortal and don’t have a vision, he doesn’t want to harm you in any way or put you in harm's way.

“Just don’t do anything reckless that could put you in danger,” Pierro comments, leaning against the wall.

You bite the inside of your cheek. You don’t think you can guarantee that— staying away from danger, you mean. It’s not like you intentionally dive headfirst into danger without warning! You’re getting married to Archons, Harbingers, an Adeptus, a Knight, and many notable figures of Teyvat. There’s bound to be danger in almost every corner now that you’re associated with these men.

The men stare at you intently while you stare off into space, gnawing on the inside of your cheek. That’s another habit of yours the men noticed almost right off the bat. When you’re deep in thought, you tend to zone out and are not aware of your surroundings. It’s almost like your head is always in the clouds. It’s almost endearing in a way, but your head being in the clouds could also be the reason for your downfall.

“What’s on your mind?” Heizou asks, leaning back in his seat while watching you closely.

You sigh and chuckle to yourself. “I don’t have much going on in my mind, to be really honest. But I do have other questions, but I don’t think any of you are going to give me a clear answer,” you said.

Kazuha sits beside you and gazes at you curiously. You clear your throat and look away, feeling heat slowly creep up your neck. He’s even prettier in person. You wonder if Kazuha knows how pretty he is because he’s breathtaking. Then again, the twenty-four other men are just as stunning as Kazuha.

“If you want, you can ask us now, and if we know the answer, we’ll tell you. If not, we’ll try to answer it when we have the answers,” Kazuha suggests, giving you a small smile.

You pursed your lips and debated whether you should ask the question. If you were to ask them the question, you worry you might receive the answer you didn’t want to hear. But if you don’t ask the question, you’ll never know what will happen or what to expect. Itto lets out a loud grunt and stands up, stretching his arms out in front of him.

Itto props his hands on his hips and gives you an encouraging smile. “Whatever question you have for us, I think some of us have the answer for it, depending on what it is!” Itto says, tilting his head to the side while gazing at you curiously.

How long will this marriage last? Is what you wanted to ask the men. How long will it last? A few weeks? A few months? A few years, maybe? How long? The time in Teyvat is vastly different from your world, you’re assuming. The days in Teyvat are much faster than the days in your world. You and the men never went out on a date to get to know one another or to form a bond with one another. Would the marriage be convincing because of the lack of bond between the twenty-six of you? Or, well, between you and each man?

“I don’t know if I want to ask the question,” you mutter shyly.

Venti giggles and trots over to you, throwing his arms around your shoulders and giving you a pat on the head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to ask the question! We won’t pry!” Venti says, releasing you from his hug before walking over to where he was standing previously.

Zhongli clears his throat. “I would like to remind you all that what we’re all getting into involves a contract. Everyone has to agree to sign this contract mutually. If one person does not agree, then the contract will be invalid,” Zhongli says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Right, you nearly forgot that marriage is a contract with the party involved. It’s not a relationship where people can break up and go their separate ways after. Marriage is a contract, and to get out of marriage is breaking a contract. It’s a long process, and people can’t walk away from it so easily.

You didn’t remember who proposed the idea of every one of them marrying you to keep you away from danger and to keep your real origins hidden from the rest of Teyvat. It’s strange to you that you have to marry notable figures to keep your identity hidden, even though that’s putting more spotlight and target on you. You don’t mind getting married to twenty-five handsome men but getting married to them so suddenly is something you didn’t expect.

“Are you listening?” Capitano asks gruffly.

You nod mindlessly. “I’m not opposed to continuing this process. I mean, it’s not like I have a choice, really,” you mutter.

“It’s for your safety. If word gets out that you’re not from our universe and you possess the knowledge of Teyvat, you will be hunted down by the Abyss,” Dottore interjects from the corner of the room.

You didn’t realize he was in the same room until now. Now that you think about it, these Harbingers are scattered around the large office inside Dawn Winery. You puckered your lips and leaned back in your seat, crossing your leg over the other.

You sigh and tilt your head back. “Is the Abyss really a threat to me right now? In case you all have forgotten, you’re all notable figures. Some of you are Harbingers and Knights—”

Diluc makes a disgusted noise.

“Some of you are Adeptis and Archons—”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes and pretends to gag. You stare at Diluc and Scaramouche blankly while the two avoid your eyes. You huff and stand up, propping your hands on your hips. You look at the other men in the room, who gazes at you cluelessly.

Kaeya smiles at you and waves. “Ignore Diluc. He was once a Knight as well, but now he holds a grudge against us,” Kaeya says nonchalantly.

Diluc rolls his eyes in response and glares at Kaeya from the corner of his eyes. You scratch your head, wondering how in the world this marriage is going to work out of some of these men hold grudges against certain groups of people, especially when the others are part of that group.

“So, what do you say? Do you agree to marry all twenty-five of us for your protection? This is also no strings attached, so you can do whatever you want without us controlling you. That applies to us as well.” Pantalone says, holding his hand out toward you.

You sigh for the trillionth time, staring at Pantalone’s hand. No strings attached? How would a marriage work if it’s no strings attached? There are many strings attached to marriages! That only applies if it’s a friends-with-benefits situation, but marriage? Does that even apply to marriages? This got you scratching your head because what?

“I’m not sure what you mean by no strings attached,” you mutter, furrowing your eyebrows. “But yes, I will marry you. All of you. Although I did not think this is how the marriage proposal is going to turn out….” you trailed off, grabbing Pantalone’s hand and shaking his hand.

Childe smirks, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Oh? Did you perhaps want us to dress fancy and make it special?” Childe asks.

“Yes.” you deadpan. “Honestly, if I was dating all of you and this is how you all propose to me, it would’ve been an automatic no,” you add.

“Huh!? Then what should we do to get you to say yes other than making it special?” Itto asks, giving you a look of disbelief.

You hum thoughtfully, tapping on your chin after releasing Pantalone’s hand. “Well, last time I checked, an engagement ring is involved. If we’re going to make this ‘real,’ there needs to be a ring, or else people won’t believe it,” you explain.

“Oh? Do you want us to get you an engagement ring?” Pierro asks, looking at you with an amused look on his face.

You feel your face heat up, and you look away with a “hmph!” The marriage is real, but at the same time, it’s not. Yes, a marriage certificate and license will be signed and given to the twenty-six of you, but this marriage is a loveless marriage. At least, that’s what you assume it’ll be. If you have to marry the twenty-five of them for your safety, you might as well make it convincing, right? Then again, you don’t want them to spend a lot of Mora over a ring.

“Yes, I do. I mean, unless people in Teyvat do it differently,” you mutter, stroking your chin. You shake your head and wave your hand. “You know what? Forget it. It’s not even a real marriage, so why should I want a ring to be involved?” You sigh.

Aether looks at you quizzically. “What do you mean? It is a real marriage,” Aether says.

“Not when the marriage is rushed, and none of you have feelings for me,” you mutter under your breath.

“Either way, the wedding is real because a contract is involved. If it were fake, the marriage license and certificate wouldn’t be signed, and it would’ve been more of a role play,” Tighnari interjects, shrugging his shoulders.

Well, Tighnari’s not wrong about that. Still, the marriage isn’t genuine between you and the twenty-five men. You shouldn’t be complaining when they’re doing it for your safety, but what Pantalone said really bothers you. A marriage that has no strings attached. How would that even work? You get attached easily!

“[Y/N].”

How would the men react if you told them you wanted the marriage to be real? By that, you mean you wanted them to love you as much as you love them. Is it too early to tell them you love them despite knowing them for only a short amount of time during your stay in Teyvat? I mean, you technically knew them longer than they know you because—

“[Y/N]!”

You feel something smack you in the face. You blink and rub the tip of your nose, looking at the item that fell onto your lap. A bread roll. You clear your throat and grab the bread, glancing up at Lumine, who sighs and props her head up on the table with her arm.

You put the bread roll on the plate, giving Lumine an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Lumine. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts,” you said. “What were you saying?”

Lumine lets out a long sigh and leans back in her seat, staring at you closely while tapping her fingers on her biceps. “I was wondering how your marriage is going with those twenty-five men. Specifically, my twin brother,” Lumine says.

“Oh!” You look at her surprised, reminding Lumine of a startled fox she came across many times while on her and her brother’s exploration around Teyvat. “It’s… uh… it’s going!” You say, giving her a strained smile.

Lumine deadpans. “Listen, [Y/N]... I invited you to lunch at a lovely restaurant in Mondstadt so we can chat and catch up!” She leans on the table and looks at you worriedly. “You stared off into space for a while, and you look very upset, maybe almost annoyed as well,” Lumine says.

You gulp and reach for your teacup, sipping your now cold tea. Have you been spacing out for that long? You didn’t even realize it until Lumine snapped you out of your thoughts. You’re not sure if you should tell Lumine what’s been bothering you. Surely she knows the state of your and the twenty-five men’s marriage, right? Plus, it’s not like Aether would be hiding the truth of his marriage with you.

Lumine chuckles, shaking her head. “You know, when Aether told me he was getting married, I was genuinely shocked. My brother? Getting married? That’s something I never thought would happen.”

“It’s a loveless marriage, though,” you whisper in defeat, slumping forward and resting your chin on the table. “My marriage with these men is loveless. There are no strings attached, which I find odd because there’s no marriage like that! I mean… unless it’s an arranged marriage that is strictly business,” you mutter, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Lumine gives you a sympathetic look, reaching for your hand across the table, and gently squeezes your hand. “Have you expressed your desire of wanting the marriage to be real instead of it being an excuse to protect you and keep you within close range?” Lumine asks, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

You shake your head glumly.

Lumine looks at you with confusion and tilts her head to the side. “Why not? I mean, marriage involves a lot of communication, right? How would the marriage work out if none of you are communicating about your wants, worries, and desires?” Lumine asks.

“Lumine, these men barely show me affection as my husbands. They talk to me, yes, but it's always awkward between us when we speak,” you say, pulling your hand away from hers before reaching for the bread roll and breaking it apart.

“Sounds like you all need a marriage counselor,” Lumine says nonchalantly, leaning back in her seat with a sigh. “I’m no love expert, but trust me, communicating your wants, needs, desires, and worries will make marriage much easier!” Lumine says.

“The last time I did that, my ex laughed in my face and left me for my ex-best friend,” you deadpan.

Lumine blinks at you and laughs nervously, grabbing her cup of water and taking a sip of it. You lightly slam your head on the wooden table, causing the cutlery to clatter from the impact. You close your eyes and turn your head to the side, staring off into space.

Even if you were to express your wants, needs, desires, and worries to your husbands, you worry that it’ll drive them away from you. Not only that, but you worry that it’ll make them snap you back into reality— the reality that your marriage with them is loveless. The purpose of the marriage is to protect you and your identity from the people of Teyvat, from the Abyss Order.

While Aether and Lumine aren’t the Abyss Prince and Princess, the Abyss Order is still as active as ever. Heck, they might be out looking for you and either kill you for knowing too much information or, worst case scenario: make you the new ruler of the Abyss. You sit up and prop your head up with your elbow on the table, sighing wistfully.

“I didn’t think I would be thrown into marriage a few weeks after my arrival to Teyvat. Now here I am, a few months later, in a loveless marriage with twenty-five men who are unobtainable due to their status,” you ramble, rubbing your face with a frustrated sigh and tugging at the roots of your hair.

Lumine smacks your hand away from your head with a scolding look. You release your hair and let your hands fall on your lap, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. You don’t care that you’re married to the handsome twenty-five men. You care that it’s a loveless marriage that is “no strings attached.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head back, resting it on the top rail. “A hopeless romantic like myself shouldn’t be in a loveless marriage. I try to find hope in the littlest things, only to be disappointed in the end because I have a hard time accepting that none of these men will ever love me,” you let out a shaky sigh. “There are times when I question if I’m worthy of love because of how many people left me heartbroken. Look at me. I’m in a loveless marriage with twenty-five men who keep me at arm's length. They refuse to get close to me or show me affection. I don’t know how much longer I can handle it,” you murmur.

Lumine glances over your shoulders and then back at you, reaching for her fork. It’s supposed to be a day where you and Lumine hang out with each other. You did tell your husbands that you’ll be meeting up with Lumine, and they’re okay with it. Of course, why wouldn’t they? Lumine stares at you intently, biting on the inside of her lips. Your eyebrows are furrowed, Lumine can see the dark circles under your eyes, and the frown on your face has only gotten deeper. Dear Archons, how unhappy are you? You look like you’re barely hanging on. You look defeated and exhausted.

Lumine clears her throat. “I’m sure they show they care about you somehow, correct? You’re married, and while it’s not like any other marriages, I’m sure they show a tiny bit of affection,” Lumine murmurs.

You crack your eyes open and rest your chin on the table. “Even if they did, it’s not enough that is convincing. They have tried to reassure me they don’t intend on being cold toward me, but it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

Lumine raises her eyebrows at you and taps her fingers on the table. “Do you want the marriage to be convincing, or do you want it to be genuine? No offense, but I’m confused about what you want from my brother and your other husbands,” Lumine comments.

You let out a sharp exhale and bury your face in the table. “I want it to be real. The marriage certificate and license are real, yes, but I want….” You trail off, turning your head to the side so your cheek is resting on the wooden table.

“You want….?” Lumine furrows her eyebrows.

You sit up straight and scratch your cheek. “I want them to love and care about me as much as I do for them. Since this marriage is, according to Pantalone, no strings attached, it makes me feel like I’m not meant to be loved even if I do love someone or something. If that makes sense.” You run your fingers through your hair and puff your cheeks out. “That’s all I want. But knowing them, they will never feel the same way, and I need to accept it.”

You stare at Lumine, who looks like she just saw a ghost for the first time. You look at her quizzically while she slowly lifts her hand and points behind you. You freeze and close your eyes, mentally cursing to yourself. You slowly turn in your seat and open your eyes, only to see your beloved husbands standing there with their arms over their chests, looking at you with unreadable expressions on their faces.

“We need to talk,” Diluc says.

Your shoulders slump, and you nod. You get up from your seat and bid Lumine goodbye before walking outside of Mondstadt. Lumine gives Aether a look when he walks past her alongside the other men. The way back to the estate was silent, other than muttering from other men here and there. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and ashamed for admitting it out loud. Even if you said it to Lumine, you didn’t expect your husbands to walk up to your table while you were rambling.

Now, you’re sitting on the couch while the men are standing in front of you. You feel like a child getting ready to be scolded by their parents for misbehaving. You feel so small, almost inferior.

“Can you explain to us what you and Lumine were talking about?” Xiao asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

You purse your lips. “Lumine and I were talking about our,” you gesture to yourself and the twenty-five men in front of you, “marriage, and I was expressing my feelings about the marriage.”

“Care to tell us more about it?” Kaeya asks, sitting across from you.

“Do I need to explain it to you all again? I have a feeling that all of you heard what I said to Lumine before I realized you all heard what I was saying,” you commented.

Gorou nods. “That is true, yes, but we want you to say it to us. We are your husbands, after all.”

Archons, this is embarrassing.

“I…” You sigh, staring off into space.

You can’t say what you said to Lumine earlier today. It’s not like you didn’t want to. It’s because you have a hard time expressing your emotions and saying what’s on your mind.

You shake your head, burying your face into the palm of your hands. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time.” You whisper.

Aether gives you a sympathetic look. “It’s okay! Take your time!” Aether reassures you, sitting beside you and rubbing your arm.

“We want to let you know that we’re not mad at you for telling Lumine how you feel about the marriage,” Heizou says, sitting on the other side of you, sandwiching you between him and Aether.

You give Aether and Heizou a strained smile before looking down at your hands on your lap.

“I don’t know how you all feel about this marriage, but lately, I feel like you all have been avoiding me. The better way for me to put it is you’re all keeping me at arm’s length, and I feel like I can’t get through the walls you’re all putting up.”

“Like Pantalone said, the marriage is no string attached,” Dottore says passively.

You stand up. “That only works for friends-with-benefits situations. We’re married. Marriage isn’t supposed to be like this unless it’s a business transaction like those arranged marriages, but this isn’t arranged. It’s sudden, and I’m an idiot for thinking I’m strong enough to be in this situation.”

“What are you trying to say exactly?” Capitano asks.

“Am I really that hard to love to the point where you all keep me at arm’s length? If I am, we could just end the marriage and go our separate ways,” you suggest.

Al Haitham shakes his head. “That’s not why we keep you at arm’s length. You’re not hard to love. We do care about you, [Y/N].”

“Then why put a wall between us? I’m doing everything I can to have you all open up to me, but it's futile.”

Kaveh kneels in front of you and grabs your hand. “We put you at arm’s length because we worry that if we end up developing feelings for you, you will return to your world suddenly. We do care about you, and it’s hard for us to act like we don’t love you. We do, and it’s not easy for either of us to keep this distance.”

“I see where you’re all coming from, but we don’t know when I’ll return to my world. I’ve been in Teyvat for, what, a few months now?” You look at the men quizzically.

“That’s the unfortunate thing. We don’t know how or when you’ll return to your world. It’s a constant guessing game, and falling in love with someone and them disappearing out of thin air without warning is terrifying.” Albedo interjects, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And so is marrying someone and keeping them at a far distance until they disappear! It’s almost a cruel and unusual punishment.” You retort.

“Would you be okay with us starting all over again?” Kazuha asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and squint at Kazuha. What does he mean by that exactly?

“We want to form a connection with you. While we treated you with respect (and will continue to do so), we want to treat you like our spouse instead of a stranger/roommate.” Scaramouche replies.

You nod, feeling your face gradually become warm. You continue to keep your lips pressed into a thin line to prevent a big smile from forming on your face. They wanted a fresh start. A start where they treat you like a lover rather than a stranger. You’re okay with that! In fact, you like that idea more than whatever’s been happening for the past few months.

“I like that idea.” You say softly.

Cyno smiles and pats your head. “Good.”

A fresh start with your twenty-five husbands. That’s something you didn’t expect would happen, but you’re not complaining. It’s better than having them keep their distance from you.

Note: I'm thinking about giving Zhongli his own collection of one-shots, but I'm not 100% sure if I should do it. I have a lot of ideas for this man, and I want to make it happen, but I'll have to wait a bit and see how it goes before I make it happen. I might make it happen once my spring quarter is over, but who knows. I was distracted by the new Obey Me game, and I was also farming for Baizhu. That's why the update is a bit late-ish other than me tagging people in this post. To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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hollandorks · 7 months

Text

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter seven

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: Fuck it, here's chapter 7 since the previous post was technically just an interlude! Once again I'm basically begging for comments/ messages/ any interaction other than just likes because I'm greedy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.5k

All she had was an eager cop, a detective, and the detective’s vigilante best friend.

She hoped it would be enough.

Y/n knew that boredom would be her worst enemy, so she downloaded a police scanner app and listened to it almost religiously while she worked. The constant stream of voices helped keep the grief at bay and helped her focus.

To her surprise, the cops seemed to want Batman around. There were a couple of calls those first couple of days–an armed robbery and a creep taking pictures through a window–where the officers mentioned him by name. He’d stopped the armed robbery before the cops got there and also caught the peeping Tom. One cop grumbled on the radio how all their work was being taken by some guy in a costume. The rest of them jumped to Batman's defense, saying there was more than enough crime to go around. “Besides,” one chuckled. “I wouldn't want to be the one to catch some creep with his dick out.”

Y/n was almost pleased to hear the good relationship the vigilante had with GCPD. She wondered how much Gordon had to do with that. She made a few notes of their comments for her article, because it was definitely interesting to see that a city wanted a guy who operated outside the law around.

It was a few nights before an interesting call came through.

A witness reported a woman being shot. A young woman. The details were sparse but it was enough to pique her interest.

Y/n couldn’t say what it was that had her dressing warmly and grabbing her camera and phone. Stupidity, definitely. But it was one of those moments where she felt in her gut that something was happening, something related to her case.

Pepper spray clutched in one hand and camera in the other, she left the safety of Wayne Tower. Every shadow made her jump. She called a cab to take her to the crime scene–or at least as close as she could get. It was practically on the other side of the city and she definitely didn’t want to chance walking alone at night in Gotham.

They were stopped two blocks from the scene, so she got out and peered around. It looked like the actual crime scene was on the other side of an apartment building to her right, but that alley was blocked off as was the street in front of her. So she walked a little further down to the next connecting alley to get to one street over.

“What are you doing here?”

“Shit!” She screamed. She whirled and swung her arm up to use the mace, but her wrist was quickly caught in an iron grip. She tried to scramble away and almost fell when the hand suddenly released her.

Her heart only slightly calmed when she saw who it was.

The Batman.

She pressed her knuckles to her chest. Her heart was jumping out of her chest. “Jesus fucking Christ. What are you doing here?”

He watched her passively, half in the shadows. He had stepped away as soon as he let her go. “I asked first.”

She closed her eyes for a beat and inhaled a steadying breath. “Probably the same thing you’re doing here.” She shrugged. Her pulse was still racing but she knew she was safe now. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. And besides, there were about a million cops just around the corner. If she screamed, they would come.

“It’s too dangerous,” he growled. He took a half-step forward, like he would grab her again.

She held up the pepper spray. “Not afraid to use this on you, buddy. Besides, you’re here now to keep me safe. And the other fifty cops out there.”

He stopped. His eyes narrowed. She wanted to get closer, see what color they were, help narrow down who might be underneath the mask.

“Fine, let’s go.” He started to walk past her, towards the blue and red lights at the end of the alley.

She blinked in surprise. “That was easy.”

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Only because you’re going to do what you want to do. At least this way I can keep an eye out for you.”

She grinned and winked. “You’re learning already.”

They walked down the alley together, her shadowy protector moving to stay one step behind her like a bodyguard.

At the end of the alley, the world was leached of color in the whirling red and blue lights, the flashes timed almost perfectly to the beat of her heart. She snapped a quick wide picture. She could see the area cordoned off with bright yellow tape.

“Well, of all the officers in all of Gotham,” she said pleasantly when she spied Martinez keeping onlookers away from the crime scene tape.

Officer Martinez’s young face brightened when he saw her, then changed comically fast when he peered over her shoulder. She could feel the Batman’s presence at her back, looming over her.

“She’s with me,” the vigilante said. Martinez sighed but held up the tape to let them under. She sensed there was a story between them and itched to find out what it was.

“If either of you touch anything…” Martinez grumbled. “It’s my neck.”

Y/n flashed him her most winning smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the big guy in line.” Martinez grinned back.

“So Martinez doesn’t like you, huh?” she asked the vigilante.

He ignored her.

The air around them was humid, wet. It must have rained earlier, like most nights in Gotham. A few cop cars were leaving already. She wondered what had brought on the intense response. Her stomach tightened as they approached another alley. Gordon was talking to a young guy, late teens to early twenties, taking notes on a small notepad as the guy wiped at his face.

Y/n quickly fumbled for her phone and set it to record. She wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Except for, well, the whole leaving Wayne Tower late at night while a murderer might be after her mistake she’d already made. She snapped another sneaky picture of Gordon and the young man.

She caught Batman watching her and arched an eyebrow as if daring him to say anything.

He simply turned away and said, “Gordon.”

“Thank you,” Gordon said to who she assumed was a witness. “We’ll be in touch.”

The guy hurried off, shoulders hunched, his face almost green.

Gordon turned, saw her, and sighed. “I would ask, but…”

She winked. “You’re both learning so quickly. I’m proud.”

“What happened?” Batman asked, all business. Y/n glanced past Gordon and saw a body covered in a sheet. The medical examiner was unzipping a body bag, about to transport it.

The detective’s attention turned to the vigilante. “Single gunshot to the head at close range. Woman in her thirties walking home from work. Guy heard the gunshots and came running. Said he didn’t see the shooter but immediately called it in. Unfortunately, his dinner has…contaminated part of the scene.”

While they were talking, y/n quietly lifted her camera and started taking pictures.

The medical examiner lifted the sheet. She took another picture but paused.

She took a shaky step back and bumped into something. Gloved hands steadied her by her elbows.

“Oh,” Batman said softly. He put it together quicker than she had. Her brain was scrambling to keep up. The girl on the ground was a bloody mess, face down, legs sprawled like she’d tried to run. She was wearing a similar outfit to y/n–leggings, sweater, running shoes.

But that wasn’t where the similarities ended.

The height, the body shape, the hair color, even the shade of her skin…

The woman looked like y/n.

She didn’t realize she was shaking until Batman gently squeezed her elbows.

“Shit,” Gordon said. He must not have seen the body when he first arrived on the scene.

“Don’t look,” Batman said in her ear, pulling her away, his voice conjuring–of all people–Bruce Wayne. It was just her mind reaching for something familiar, comfortable, safe. She shook the thought away. The vigilante turned her around and held her close. “Don’t look,” he said again.

She closed her eyes against the wave of emotion. Her stomach swooped dangerously. She’d seen a dead body or two before but not–not like this.

“Guess we have confirmation, then,” Gordon said softly. She didn’t have to ask what confirmation they had. She knew already, her gut telling her what exactly had happened despite its churning.

Someone had killed that woman because it looked like her.

They knew what she looked like. They knew well enough to kill someone even with the chance it might not be her.

Which meant they were desperate and that it was only a matter of time before they found her.

“Come on, you need to get out of here,” Gordon said, and this time he had her by the arm. He pulled her along, the vigilante cutting a path through the crowd before them.

Her mind was blank. The shock of seeing a body, of imaging her own in its place, had wiped everything clean. She didn’t protest as Gordon bundled her into the passenger seat of his car. At least he didn’t put me in the back like a criminal, she thought almost deliriously.

Batman stood in the open door, staring down at her. She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there but now he was filling her vision. Her eyes traced the planes of his armor, wondering what he looked like underneath, who he was. There were dings and scrapes in places, physical memories of past fights.

“I’m going to find who did this,” he said. His voice pitched impossibly lower. “And keep an eye out for you.”

This made her snap out of it. “You can’t be in two places at once.” He had black paint around his eyes. She hadn’t noticed before.

The barest smirk on his lips as he looked away. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were in the darkness of the night. “You don’t know that for sure.”

She snorted. “You’re right. Maybe you’re some sort of mutant freak. Besides dressing like a bat, you know.” Despite the joking, her hands shook. She tucked them between her thighs.

“Listen,” he said, serious again. There was a note of steel in the word. His voice was so low she could feel it as a vibration on her skin. “Stop sneaking out at night. It’s too dangerous.”

She nodded vaguely but didn’t actually make the promise. If they wanted her dead, Wayne Tower wasn’t going to stop them. Slow them down, maybe, but not stop them. She needed to put the puzzle pieces together, and fast. They were getting closer to figuring out who she was, but she and Gordon and even the Batman only vaguely knew who they were dealing with. They needed to even the score.

“Then give me your phone number so you can be my bodyguard,” she said. She was half teasing.

The Batman seemed to consider it. Her eyes went past him as the gurney passed with the body on it. She shuddered and he stepped to block her view.

“If you have to leave, let Gordon know and one of us will come. But only if you have to.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “You’re allergic to texting.” And probably don’t want a reporter having your phone number, she silently added.

Batman stepped back and then Gordon was there. He put one hand on the top of the car and leaned in, expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I’m taking you straight home and you’re going to stay there, alright?”

She waved a hand but nodded. Satisfied, he shut the passenger door. She could hear muffled voices as he said something to Batman. Probably berating him for bringing her to the crime scene in the first place. Or telling him something he didn’t want her to hear.

Within a couple of minutes, Gordon was sliding behind the wheel.

“How’d you even know where to go?” he asked as they drove.

“Police scanner app.”

He glanced over at her. “I hate those things,” he muttered. “What happened to quid pro quo? I would have called you.”

She bit her lip and shrugged. “I can’t just sit around waiting for someone to shoot me in the head.” She shivered at the image she now had of what, exactly, that looked like.

“So you’re going to take yourself right to their doorstep instead?”

“With the way my luck is going lately, it’s only a matter of time anyway. Might as well get as much done as I can first.” She hated to be so casual about it, but she had had really shit luck lately. There was no use hiding from it. If she didn’t leave Wayne Tower, they would probably find a way to break in. Or send a sniper after her. She thought about the times she’d leaned against the windows in the study and a chill went up her spine.

“All you’ve done is traumatize yourself and give me a headache,” he said around a sigh. He really did sound like a tired dad half the time, she mused. She leaned her head back and watched the dark streets of Gotham pass by. She was reminded of another night in Gotham, years ago, on the back of a motorcycle with Bruce.

She pushed the memory away and said, “I’ll pay for a bottle of ibuprofen.”

Gordon laughed softly. “Listen, I know you reporter types are always rushing into danger, but this is your life. Can’t write the story if you’re dead. Text me if you have to go anywhere, and either I’ll come or send someone I trust.”

“Okay,” she said. “But if it takes too long I might leave anyway.” She smiled so he would know she was at least partially kidding. “Have you learned anything new?”

Gordon was silent for so long she knew it was bad news. He parked right in front of Wayne Tower–illegally, she might add.

He turned to face her, his hands idly resting on his knees. “It’s definitely the Gallo family. And another of the suspects we caught is dead. Apparent suicide, but we aren’t so sure. The third one is under around the clock protection, but…”

“Shit,” she said. Now she was the one with a headache. “That is…bad.”

“Can you see why I want you to stay home now?” he asked pleadingly. “Like it or not, I’m responsible for keeping you alive. If we can catch the last guy and get him and the other to trial…you’re an important witness. The only witness.”

“Aw, and here I was thinking you were starting to like me.”

A tightening at the corners of his mouth told her he was trying not to smile. “Let me walk you upstairs.”

“Do you see all the security in there? I’ll be fine.” She gestured towards the lobby. It definitely looked more like a swanky prison these days, even at night when no employees were in the lower floors of the building.

“I wanted to see if I could talk to Bruce Wayne.”

Y/n did a double take. Just the sound of his name made her stomach tighten almost painfully. “Why? To tattle on me? Bruce Wayne is not my keeper. He’s not my anything.” She immediately bit her tongue. She’d said too much with that last sentence, let too much of her hurt and bitterness in.

“I want to talk to him about his security, see if we can bolster it with our officers somehow.” Gordon was already up and out of the car. She scrambled to keep up, briefly getting caught in her seatbelt before yanking it off and hopping out.

Gordon flashed his badge to the security. They all relaxed not at seeing it, but at seeing y/n.

“You better talk to Alfred then, if he’s awake. He’s more in charge of that stuff than Bruce. He’s with me, it’s fine.” She said the last part to the concerned security guard–the new one whose name she still hadn’t learned, the one who had called the police for her the night she’d witnessed the murders. He was in charge of the night shift security, apparently. She wondered if he resented being the only guy at the desk at night to having a whole team around. Or maybe it was less lonely.

Gordon followed her into the private residential elevator. “Be that as it may, I’d like to speak to Mr. Wayne too.”

She sighed but hit the button to take them up to the residential part of Wayne Tower. “You really sound like a dad,” she muttered under her breath.

Gordon cut his eyes at her then smiled.

The elevators opened, and there was Alfred, already dressed and waiting. Security must have called up, warning him the detective was coming. Had he even gone to bed? She was starting to think that Alfred might be nocturnal. Or maybe he didn’t sleep at all. That was new–she and Bruce had gotten in trouble many times when they were younger for interrupting his precious sleep. These days he always seemed to be dressed impeccably, even late at night.

“Detective,” Alfred said pleasantly. He briefly narrowed his eyes at her. “How can I help you?”

Y/n idly scuffed her foot against the floor, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. She had always been caught either sneaking out or sneaking back in. Alfred had a knack for it. Or maybe she wasn’t as good as Bruce had been, who had been caught only twice that she could remember.

Gordon nodded politely. “Is Mr. Wayne feeling better? I’d like to talk to the both of you.”

“I would like to add here that it’s not sneaking out if I’m a grown woman,” y/n said helpfully.

Alfred’s eyes narrowed again before he turned his focus back to Gordon. “Mr. Wayne is out.”

Now y/n was narrowing her eyes at Alfred. He caught her looking. She raised one eyebrow. Was he street racing again? She remembered the bruises on his knuckles. Or part of an illegal fight club? Neither would surprise her.

Another thought struck and stole her breath.

Maybe Bruce had a girlfriend.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Gordon asked. His tone was carefully neutral.

“Well, as I was just told, the rules are different for grown men–and women. He comes and goes as he pleases and rarely includes me in his plans.” Alfred was being too professional with it. His tone was too flat. Oh yeah, Bruce was definitely up to something, and Alfred definitely knew exactly what it was. Fuck, she thought desperately. She couldn’t breathe. Alfred would know if Bruce had a girlfriend and he knew her well enough to hide it from her.

Why did the thought of Bruce with another woman hurt so much, even three years later? I don’t love you and I never will, he had said that night.

Which meant he was perfectly capable of loving someone else.

Y/n bit her lip until the pain made the panic recede.

“Of course,” Gordon said in an equally flat, professional tone. “I wanted to chat about security measures. There was another murder tonight, and while I can’t give details of an ongoing investigation…it definitely seems like y/n is a target.”

She cringed, remembering how eerily similar the body had been to hers. Who had the woman been? She hadn’t gotten a name, an age. But she felt like she should know these things if the woman had died in her place. What if she was only the first? Would they kill every woman who looked close enough to y/n before they caught her?

Alfred blinked in surprise, the professional facade slipping. “I–of course, let’s go into my office.”

Y/n wanted to go with them but decided against it. It really would be smarter to listen to Gordon. If she needed to leave, she would get an escort, even if it was Alfred. He may walk with a cane but she knew he was secretly pretty spry. He’d been a spy or soldier or something in his younger years, before coming to work for the Waynes.

“Goodnight, Alfred,” she said, taking a half-step towards the hall that led to her room. “And thanks, Gordon.”

They both nodded and bid her goodnight before disappearing towards the study.

Y/n waited a second then darted to the elevator. The other elevator. Bruce’s.

She didn’t really have a plan other than to see with her own two eyes that Bruce was gone and not just hiding.

She hit the button for what was once the garage and again, nothing happened. She frowned at it and hit it several more times. Still nothing.

What if Bruce was down there with a woman, showing her his cars? Or–She shut the thought down and mashed the button one more time, knowing it was futile.

With a curse, she stepped back out.

Fine, she would go to bed and leave Bruce alone. It didn’t matter if he was wrecking illegally souped up cars or beating someone’s face in and following the first rule of fight club. It didn’t matter if he was with a woman he might love more than he ever loved her.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

Except, as much as she hated to admit it, he did.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard

#the batman x reader #battinson x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #haven #haven fic

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

🦈Can I request the uppermoons with a female Floyd s/o.

🌊Her iskaid from the coral sea/twisted wonderland .

🦈Many they met her while she was squeezing a person because they broke a contract or pissed her of (her finally getting to squeeze her lover. )

🌊How whoud they react her being a Moray eel/mermaid and her tru form(them seeing her sharp teeth and not freeking out ) listening to her story of her learning to walk on land for the first time about her twin and Azul.

🦈Whats their opinion on her mood swings and calling everyone sea creature names

Akaza those mantis that punch calling daki srimpy because she is smaller than her and her brother sea snake kokushibo sea lion daki a blanket octopus.

🌊Her getting to squeeze the lower moons because what can they do when she is dating the uppermoons and especially if she dating muzan.

Just make it how you like I love you destie

Love you too! Female Reader.

A few of you have been getting on my ass about not including Hantengu and Gyokko, so here you go.

Muzan Kibutsuji

He had met you when he took a small vacation to the beach. You had washed up ashore and you were struggling with your tail. Muzan was enchanted, as he thought mermaids were just myths. He prepared a spell that would allow you to have legs while you were on land.

The two of you surprisingly got along very well. He tested the strength you have by allowing you to squeeze one of the lower moons. The rip-off Michael Jackson was a bit shocked to hear the spine snap, as well as your sharp-toothed smile after the poor unfortunate soul collapsed.

I feel like he wouldn’t particularly like your mood swings, but he loved you so he put up with them. I feel like your mood went along with his: if he was upset, you were upset. However, your emotions were more expressive than his. You would be more prone to violence if either you or him were provoked.

Since he’s like the apex predator of demons, you call him White Pointer because the Great White Shark is an apex predator of the ocean. Muzan is very interested in your stories from your childhood, especially your twin brother (his future brother-in-law) and Azul (who Kibutsuji thought was a possible rival at first).

Kokushibo

He had met you when Muzan was testing your strength and you snapped the spinal cord of one of the lower moons. As unlikely as it sounded, it was love at first sight for the two of you. He admired your strength just as you admired his (who wouldn’t? I mean, have you seen this fine demon?).

Speaking of, you both work side-by-side in enforcing the rules in the demon ranks. You were a surprisingly formidable opponent, even though you were “human��. Kokushibo, however, wanted to keep you as you were rather than turning you into a demon.

This demon is very emotionally stable from a day-to-day basis, so he acts kind of like your anchor whenever you go through mood swings. I think he’s kind of indifferent towards them, and he acts as your voice of reason. When you seek him out for comfort, he can’t help but feel some pride swelling in his chest.

You call him ‘sea lion’ because he’s very agile in battle, and because he’s very loyal to you and you both live in a “raft”. He does like to hear about your life in Twisted Wonderland and about your twin and your boss, but he is greatly saddened about the prospect of you wanting to return.

Douma

Muzan had brought you back to the Infinity Castle, and he was immediately entranced by your smile and your overall beauty. Don’t get me started about when he found out you were a mermaid. When you showed him your mer-form, he was so excited.

He was surprised by the amount of strength you had, since it could rival some of the lower-ranking demons. You even snapped someone’s spinal cord, and it sent him rolling on the floor laughing. He can handle your squeezes, though, and welcomes them with open arms.

This man doesn’t feel emotions until you’re right next to him. You both feed off of each others’ moods. If you’re happy, he’s happy. If you’re upset, he’s upset. Same thing vice versa as well. It’s an emotional roller coaster for everyone.

You like to call him ‘blanket octopus’ because they’re just as colorful as his eyes, and he loves to hear what they were like in the ocean as well as your life in the Coral Sea. If the two of you decide to go swimming at night, he loves the way that your tail wraps around him because you love to cling to him.

Akaza

His head turned so quickly when he heard someone’s spine snap, only to see that it was you with a lower-ranking demon in your grasp. Muzan had told them about how your mer-person strength would benefit demonkind, but he didn’t know you held that much power.

Because of your strength, he was immediately attracted to you. He eventually got to know you better, and you turned out to be a very spontaneous person. He doesn’t mind it though, since it always keeps him guessing. This makes a nice segway into…

Your mood swings! Akaza doesn’t get too annoyed by them, especially if they end up in you being clingy towards him. Since this demon loves you oh-so-much, he encourages clingy behavior. Oftentimes, you are sat upon his lap and he’s holding you around the waist as he leans his head upon you.

He quite enjoys the nickname you’ve given him: mantis shrimp. You’ve explained that it was because they were as strong as he was, and could even break aquarium glass. This led him to asking about the ocean and about your family. He wishes he could remember his life as a human.

Hantengu

Mans let out an audible squeak when he heard a spine snap, and when he turned around to see where the sound came from you had a wide smile and a folded up demon in your arms. Muzan gathered everyone’s attention and introduced you to the group.

He honestly let you do as you wished, considering you scared him. This eventually developed into romantic feelings being the cause, but at that point it was because he very much valued his own spinal cord. He always goes stiff whenever you want to squeeze him.

As for your mood swings, he doesn’t mind them. You have enough confidence for the two of you, and he serves you. If you randomly want or need something, he will go and get it for you with no questions asked. Anything to make his darling moray eel happy.

Speaking of, he absolutely adores your mer-form. The way you moved so quickly in the water was spectacular. You call him ‘squid’, considering they’re one of the more shy creatures of the sea but the bigger ones are still very strong (take that as you will).\

Gyokko

His morbid fascination really did wonders for his art, especially when he saw how much strength you actually had as you snapped the demon’s spinal cord like a KitKat. You served as his muse even in your human form, let alone your mer-form.

Your mer-form was very intriguing to him, and his art usually had you as the subject. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering a lot of artists loved to paint the love of their lives. He’s just painting the love of his afterlife. Don’t mind him as he’s carrying another canvas to his studio.

If your mood swings make you clingy, he is absolutely happy about it. He’s a very jealous demon, so this works out for him. However, he hates it when you yell at him to leave you alone. It leads to a yelling battle that leads to him apologizing.

You’d probably call him ‘Fantasia’, after the Pink See-Through Fantasia. Both were very weird creatures in your mind, but both were loveable. One time, as he was painting you, he asked you about your life in the sea, and you happily told him about your childhood with Jade and Azul. The work ended up being a more nostalgic one.

Daki

She was jealous of you at first because you were taking the attention of Muzan away from her, but she eventually learned that you cared more about her than him. You’ve even snapped the spine of a lower-ranking demon for even trying to talk to her.

When she first saw your moray eel form, she thought you were so majestic. It reminded her of the stories she often heard in the villages and even from her older brother. You gave her an ounce of hope that she hadn’t felt in a while.

Your mood swings upset her greatly. If you’re upset for no reason, then she’s gonna be upset at you for being upset. It’s a hot mess. The only way she puts up with them is when you go to her first to cling to her. She gets very insecure when you demand time alone.

Daki has a love-hate relationship with your nickname for her: shrimpy. She knows that you nicknamed her after the sea creature, but ‘shrimpy’ can be used as an insult. You call her that because she’s much smaller than you, but she eventually grows to love it full-time, and even gets concerned when you don’t call her that.

Gyutaro

He was definitely impressed when you snapped the spine of a lower-ranking demon, considering you weren’t a demon yourself. Then he saw your smile, and his non-beating heart fluttered and soared. Muzan introduced you as a new enforcer, and said that you were a moray eel mermaid. To be honest, he thought there was only one type of mermaid.

When he first saw your mer-form, he was amazed at how quickly you moved through the water. You seemed truly at peace in the water, and he thought you were very graceful. He once accompanied you, and you wrapped your tail around his very small waist and clung onto him, which made him very flustered.

You reminded him of his younger sister whenever you went through a mood swing. He’s also the only one who knows how to properly deal with them, but he will most definitely call you childish. He acts like it’s such an inconvenience, but he actually likes helping you because that serves as reassurance that you would never leave him. His ocean-themed nickname was ‘sea snake’, and you would even tease him by dragging out the s in the words. You called him this because he was very curious about mermaids, but especially about the different kinds.

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tatsumessy · 9 months

Text

My husband - {Gojo Satoru}

“Y/n! Sensei taught me this move.” One of your students say as they lmk spar against another student. In the distance you could see a white haired man walking through the corridor of Jujutsu Tech smiling to himself as he hear the students sparring together. It had been three years since Gojo was sealed and two weeks since he was released.

Gojo made it clear that before he could relax in the comfort of his fiancee’s arms he needed to finish some unfinished business to which he did. But things were different, he just knew that something was different, one of the first people he ran into was Yuji. Even he looked different but the excitement on his face was something Gojo could never tire from.

“I see, a lot has happened since I’ve been gone…” Gojo said listening to what happened during the Shibuya incident, “and I’m sorry for your loss.” Yuji said causing Gojo to freeze. The only slither of family this he had was Yuta and the only thing he cared about was you…if Yuji says what he thinks you’re going to say then it’s over.

“I couldn’t do anything to stop them.” He kept going, “who's them?” Gojo said not sounding like himself. “After you were sealed some law was passed making it illegal to unseal you. The only one who knew how to do it was Y/n-sensei, she ran away afraid of what they were going to do to her.” Yuji paused making the moment even more dramatic than it had to be.

“So she’s alive-” “The higher up’s found out that Y/n was pregnant and executed her. They couldn’t stand the thought of another you being born into this world.” He quickly finished, Gojo stood there in shock trying to process what his student just said to him. In a matter of seconds he was gone, Gojo was heading straight to yours and his hidden estate to see if what Yuji was saying was one hundred percent true.

There it was, dusty and looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years…

“What was that you said?” Gojo said walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Do you think I’ll ever become as strong as you?” You asked leaning back into the comfort of his chest while reading through the cursed objects book you had sitting in your lap. “Of course not!” He shouted making you elbow him in his rib cage. “I WAS JOKING! You are already strong enough Angel.” “Physically I’m not.” You quickly responded and he laughed at your comment. “Believe it or not this right here is probably the strongest part about any of us and if we were to put all of us in a competition against whose more brain smart, my fiancé would win no doubt.” He started to play with your hair while speaking. “So logically you’re saying I’m stronger than you.?” “Yes you are baby.”

Gojo stood there staring at the fading note on the bed you two shared. He hesitated reaching for it but when he did his heart broke reading the short letter. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough, I failed you and our child. Please don’t be mad at me…

He could never be mad at you, after Riko’s death he promised to protect the ones he loved and cared for. He failed many many times and when the two of you got together he fucking told himself that if anything happened to you the world was ending.

“Something feels off.” You said standing the the entrance of the tunnel leading down to the basement level floor 5. Gojo came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders while gently caressing the sides on your arm to calm you down. “Everything will be okay. Don’t stress too much, it might be bad for the baby.” He whispers leaning down and placing a kiss on your cheek, a small sigh escapes your mouth as you stared down at the ground.

“Y/n, look at me.” He forcefully turned you towards him and you looked at the center of his mask. “I promise nothing is going to happen, everything will be okay. I’ll see you after all of this is over.” His finger pulls under your chin forcing you to come closer, his lips pressed against yours and when he pulled away you could tell something was wrong. He stuck his hand through the veil then glanced back at you, “I love you.” He said before stepping through and disappearing.

His head kept fucking with him, there’s no way he lost his fiancé and child in one day. He plopped himself down on the sofa and leaned his head back while covering his face. His eyes started to water as more memories of you popped up in his head. He couldn’t even scream or be mad, it was his fault that he was careless and lost you. He should’ve listened to your warning when you felt something was off, you were always right.

His free hand clutched the goofy matching necklace you got for the two of you as a tear slid down the side of his face. “What’s wrong wit him?” Gojo flinched hearing a small voice from behind him, he sat up and turned around. He saw you standing there glossy eyed with your hands on your hips. It was like everything was in slow motion. The way he jumped off the sofa almost tripping over the coffee table and engulfing you in a hug.

His hands cupped the sides of your face and devoured your lips. He couldn’t express how much he’s missed you and your beautiful smile. “EXCUSE ME!” A small yell made the two of you pull away from each other, Gojo looked down seeing an exact copy of himself staring back at him. The little boy had his arms crossed and he was angry, he had no idea who this man was and why he was smooching all on his mom. (His words not yours.) “This is Satsuki, Suki this is your father. The man I’m always talking about.”

You stood back up after rubbing the sides of his chubby cheeks to reassure him that things were okay. “It’s like looking in a mirror.” Gojo whispered bending down and examining the child while getting eye level with the boy. Suki lifted his hand and Gojo took that as a sign to turn off his limitless so that his child could touch him. His hand touched the sides of his cheek and after a second Gojo was in tears. He pulled Suki in for a hug and held him there, he missed his child first everything. “I thought you died…”

“When the higher ups finalized our execution and put MeiMei as our executor she protected us. We stayed in Africa for a while with Miguel then moved back a month ago.” Before you could finish what you were saying Gojo caressed the side of your face, “so you’re okay?” You nodded your head yes and he gently pulled you in for a hug. “I thought I lost you.” “You didn’t lose me. I don’t think I’d be able to call myself your fiancé if I let those old geezers kill me or let alone touch me and my child.” He laughed at your statement and gave you a little squeeze making sure you couldn’t see his distressed look.

“I love you princess.” He whispered only loud enough for you to hear in your own little bubble. “I love you too.”

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fancifulplaguerat · 1 month

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I want to talk about Georgiy Kain. Fr find that miserable old man so compelling. Imo the best way to analyze Georgiy is through his attitude surrounding Simon’s death, which is whole-hearted denial clearly predicated on Georgiy’s symbolic interpretation of Simon’s death. This is repeated ad nauseam in Georgiy’s dialogue with Clara and Daniil in their respective routes, and I shall start with Daniil.

Georgiy insists to Daniil that “Simon could not have died a natural death, so murder is the only feasible explanation” and “under no circumstances could my brother die a natural death.” When Daniil explains that Simon died of plague, Georgiy pushes back and insists that without tangible proof he won’t credit Daniil. He says, “If what you say is true, doctor, the labour of our life is condemned. We will seek a different answer till the very end.” This introduces that Simon’s death denotes the Kains’ downfall to Georgiy, and his apparent desperation towards this is evident in his emphatic denial and repetition of this sentiment. For instance, he tells Daniil “Till the very last moment I will hope that the murderer does exist […] if you’re right, that is a death sentence for us all. Look for the murderer as long as you can.” Georgiy somewhat shows his hand here, given that he will “hope” a murder exists and accordingly implores that Daniil look for a murderer “as long as he can.”

I think my dearest Victor provides further evidence for Georgiy’s desperation-informed denial, as if Daniil asks whether Simon’s death resulted from his experiments, Victor says, “I think, between me and you, that this is precisely what my brother Georgiy fears.” But even rational Victor echoes Georgiy’s interpretation of Simon’s death: “the cause of Simon’s death is much too significant. It seems we are on the brink of a realization that will be a death warrant to all of us—and, more importantly, to our life’s work. Georgiy wants to exhaust all possibilities of finding proof that he is mistaken.” Georgiy seemingly explains this potential death warrant under Clara Oath, in a confession which contains the same sentiments as his exhortations to Daniil. That is, Georgiy claims that “if [Simon’s] death was not a tragic accident but the ruling of some remorseless law, it will mean that our family's entire cause has been condemned. The town will perish. […] I will try to keep believing that his death was an accident. For as long as I can keep this belief alive, I'll be able to strive for our creation to flourish as it always did.”

So, I think this reflects Patho Classic’s broader narrative as presented in Clara’s Route; that the Plague is the Law attempting to correct itself as the Utopians broke it with the Polyhedron. The Kains appear aware that some calamity was looming, as Maria claimed that they had expected it, and with all the Kains’ manipulation of Daniil as a successor I think the Kains knew they were fucked to Hell and back and that Simon’s “death” (infection) was the nail in the coffin. Especially since Georgiy characterises Simon’s death as the “ruling of some remorseless law” if it were not murder, which Imo evokes characters like Katerina, Griff, and Anna in the Bachelor Route, who claim that Simon’s death was inevitable. This appears further supplement through another dialogue between Georgiy and Daniil:

Georgiy Kain: We will fight... until the very end. I will personally persecute those who would dare describe this disease as some kind of preordained divine retribution! I will attack anyone who would say Simon got what he deserved! Finally, I will not allow anyone to say that what Simon has built by ceaseless labour is subject to inevitable destruction. Bachelor: Retribution for what? [or] Is it really inevitable? So this omnipresent fatalism is in your nature too? Georgiy Kain: Sooner or later the one who dares challenge the mechanics of nature will pay the price. But this is not something we'd want to believe, is it? This is a conclusion drawn by people who tend to mistake their exhaustion for wisdom. However, even an echo would sometimes grow to become deafening noise. If people keep saying we're doomed, they might well bring about our extinction.

Two main points here. Firstly, Georgiy directly addresses disease as divine retribution, and his impassioned claim to persecute anyone who describes it as such again exemplifies his apparent desperation. Likewise Georgiy’s response to Simon references the inevitable destruction which Simon’s death apparently heralds. Yet I think this dialogue also suggests that Georgiy’s denial is not truly denial in the conventional sense, but an attempt to rewrite what has happened. That is, I find it pertinent that Georgiy claims that people may doom themselves if they *say* so—Georgiy apparently believes in performative utterance, or that speech can change reality. Thus perhaps he holds that if he empathetically claims that Simon died of murder, he could somehow manifest this in reality and preclude the inevitable downfall of his family and their labours. Georgiy thus echoes a consistent theme I’ve noticed in Patho (particularly in Clara’s Route) that individuals’ beliefs can influence reality’s course. Yulia even addresses this in respect to Simon: “People like [Simon] are a natural hazard. Their mission exists as long as they believe in it, and others suffer from its consequences.” Yulia’s dialogue suggests to me that Georgiy’s denial is an attempt at a performative speech act—that as long as he *believes* in Simon’s murder, his death was neither inevitable nor divine retribution, and thus the Kains are not doomed.

I am presenting for the jury my main evidence Georgiy’s admission that “Till the very last moment I hoped that my brother’s demise was of… mechanical nature. That he had suffered a violent death. I was waiting so eagerly for it to be proven. The cause of his death will undoubtedly become the reason all of us will die. So it’s the Plague after all…” Which Imo confirmed that the Plague is indeed the Law attempting to put the utopians back in line. This also seems apparent in Victor/Georgiy’s contrasting perspectives on Simon’s death and how they view Clara: Georgiy clings to his conviction that Clara is Simon’s murderer, and Victor is more merciful towards her. Victor’s mercy could ofc be personality difference, but there seems more to it, as he tells Clara, “Saddened though I am on Simon’s account, I am nonetheless not so foolish as to be angry with you. Only a fool would curse and threaten the wind that has torn the sail off his mast. Besides, unlike Georgiy, I profoundly doubt the imminence of your victory.” Victor apparently doubts the plague necessarily means the Kains’ downfall—perhaps he has more faith in another way out, presumably through Daniil and Maria.

Victor also interestingly claims that “I’m doing everything I can to make [Georgiy] face the terrible truth. Simon wasn’t immortal” but Georgiy claims “Immortality is the greatest secret humanity is forbidden to posses. Still, my brother managed to break the seal that locked it away from everyone else.” I have no precise explanation for this disparity, but I have a Theory based in Georgiy’s dynamic with Simon. That is, Georgiy is particularly concerned with Simon’s soul rather than Simon as his brother. This somewhat manifests in how Georgiy’s denial seemingly rests in what Simon’s death represents, but is dragged out into the open through Clara’s “hook” for Georgiy’s soul: “Georgiy, oh Georgiy, I know of you this: you didn’t love* Simon, and you were no twin of his.” (*The translation is “you didn’t like” Simon, but the Russian uses любил and frankly that is too catastrophic a difference in meaning). This initially seems somewhat counterintuitive given how Georgiy’s relationship to Simon is defined by other characters; Victor claims “There’s no tradition Georgiy wouldn’t disregard for Simon’s sake” and Nina (as Victor) says “Georgiy Kain, who so ardently desired eternal life for his brother, has committed himself in entirety to Simon’s Memory.” In combination with Georgiy’s little denial-sponsored murder mystery, it seems somewhat out of left field, but ! I think it suggests the point I want to make that Georgiy’s care for Simon is for his soul, not his brother.

For my damning I-rest-my-case evidence I offer Rubin’s claim that “I won’t be able to bring Simon back, but I might try to discover his secret. If Georgiy cares more about his brother’s mission than his person, he’ll agree.” Because Georgiy does just that !! Even though Rubin and others are bewildered that Georgiy chooses to forgive him rather than smite him dead for snatching Simon’s body. This seems more likely given that Georgiy explicitly tells Daniil that “It isn’t Simon himself that we [the Kains] need—but the power of creation he wields. We live for its sake. Simon is not the Polyhedron’s purpose; rather, Simon’s purpose was to allow such Polyhedrons to spring up in this world.” Another circumstantial detail is that Georgiy is routinely described a fanatic above anyone else in the Kain family, apparently obsessed with their mission.

Now everyone stay with me but. I do think that Simon Kain was a living breathing twin of Georgiy, but that he is potentially holding an immortal soul passed down through the Kain family, since the Kains have practiced reincarnation for five generations and Georgiy routinely discusses Simon’s soul as its own entity. Also how the game complicates whether Simon *really* exists, because on the one hand, Rubin and Victor’s dialogues indicate that he did. When Daniil asks whether Simon truly existed, Victor claims: “There is indeed a spark of genius to you. Alas… yes. Yes, he did […] Alas—for that would be too simple an explanation. Simon well and truly did exist.” Likewise Rubin: “You think I don’t know what Simon looked like? You think his greatness, his noble visage, is comparable to his brother or anyone else?” This may explain the contrast between Victor and Georgiy’s conceptions of him—that Victor thinks of Simon more as his brother, and Georgiy as the “soul of creation” for which the Kains live, capable of becoming quasi-divine or an udurgh, with the Polyhedron as his new body. I mean. This theory is not perfect but it helps me sleep at night.

On that note of “comparable to his brother,” I also want to examine some possible jealousy of Georgiy’s. In particular because Patho insists that Georgiy cannot replace Simon, which seemingly seeks to suggest that Georgiy was lesser to Simon. Clara can ask Georgiy outright whether he will replace Simon, and Georgiy claims “None of us [the Kains] would be able to advance and sustain the town in the way Simon did,” which suggests that he recognizes an inferiority to Simon. Then there is all that Victor Lore which I will throw on the table again, where the Stamatins claim that Victor could succeed Simon. Peter says, “I think [Victor’s] waiting for Georgiy to make an unpopular move to finally show his real face. Just kidding,” and Andrey claims, “Victor was a good disciple to Simon. He’ll manage to renew his achievement. Georgiy won’t,” and “Victor is a natural born ruler; he could be doing it all by himself. It’s Victor, not Georgiy, who is Simon’s true heir.” Even goddamn Daniil is framed as an heir for Simon over Georgiy. Now. I DO NOT think this is literal, that Victor or Daniil (<3) are capable of what Simon was. Rather, this is more about Victor’s leadership and that Victor is pragmatic and Georgiy too fanatic. In fact, it seems like Georgiy’s Achilles’ heel is indeed his fanaticism; that is why he could never replace Simon, because he is just oh so obsessed. BUT. I think it’s interesting that there is one way Georgiy was apparently Simon’s intellectual superior: he created the philosophy of Focus and Memory.

Victor explicitly informs the player that Georgiy “had rather simplistic views on the connection between the human body and the soul. Disregarding the opinions of theologians and philosophers, and ignoring serious studies on the subject, he worked out a doctrine of his own. Try to imagine our shock when it turned out to be true. […] We don't understand it ourselves. This necrosophy was probably the only area in which Georgiy had surpassed his great brother. No one knows why, but his recipes for communicating with the dead did work. All this terminology—‘Memory', 'the Focus’—is of his coinage.” The phrasing of “surpassed” is what again suggests some potential competition between Georgiy and Simon. Then Georgiy elucidates his methodology in dialogues with Daniil, which I am compelled to include for my personal reference:

“Dealing with the dead calls for scientific precision, doctor. I reality there is neither magic, nor necromancy. […] There is life after death. That much is certain. A man most certainly has a soul. And that soul certainly belongs to a better world—more so than to the one it leaves behind. Trying to prolong the time the soul has to stay here is not doing it any favours” and “To bring one’s dearly departed back to life [….] The fact of the matter is that the dead linger inside us—their living counterparts […] the dead may be brought back to life by the focussed emotions of the living.” Given that the Kains have apparently practiced reincarnation for centuries, Georgiy thus appears to have innovated or improved upon this methodology, and in so doing did one thing Simon could not, but still in service Simon—or rather, Simon’s immortal soul.

#sorry for longposting about this cringefail old man but he's just so interesting #pathologic #georgiy kain #patho.txt

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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: An ye harm none, do what ye will. 3371 words.

Author's Note: In 1986, we pick up where we left off.

1836

“I know you’re there,” you stated, not stopping from where you were cleansing crystals by moonlight.

The stream ran clear, the surface of the water a mirror. His arrival was reflected and further announced by the wildlife’s silence. He emerged from the darkness, cautious but sure he had the upper hand. He thought you would move so your back wasn’t to him. Yet, you remained on your knees by the stream.

If he was completely honest, your lack of fear was refreshing.

“Did you keep me a secret, little witch?” he asked. “Or is there a grand plan I am falling victim to?”

Instead of answering his question, you said, “My name is Amabel.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “Using my name won’t trap you,”

“Maybe not. Why should I use a name that you’ll throw away?”

“Why do you care if I throw it away?”

His blank expression broke as a smirk curled along his lips. He walked towards you with the grace of a cat, quickly coming to sit beside you on the stream’s bank.

“Why haven’t you told them?” he questioned.

Even if you had wanted to, you couldn’t answer the question. There was no logical reason why you hadn’t told the coven about him. In fact, you were breaking witch law by not disclosing. More than that, you were putting the lives of all who lived on the flatlands at risk.

“What are you doing here?” you deflected.

“Are we to leave all questions unanswered?” He sounded amused.

For a moment, you focused on your task. He watched as you cleansed quartz, howlite, opal, and topaz. Your lips moved quickly, silently, as you uttered words he couldn’t understand. He’d never been so close to a witch. He wondered if he or you were older. Who would win if a battle broke out?

When your crystals were gently placed in a basket, cloth covering them, you looked back to him. “Do you have a name?”

“I have many,”

“And which, lonely vampire, shall I call you by?”

He thought of what his name would sound like, falling from your lips like a hymn. The vampire was afraid of what that would do to him. “Enjoy your rocks,” he teased, while committing the sight of you bathed in moonlight to memory.

You watched him turn and walk away for as long as he’d let you, before he blinked out of sight.

…

1986

Witches have never traversed the sky upon the humble broom. Likewise, vampires have never possessed the ability to transform into a bat. It was all fictitious superstition and generational mythology. If the man you were helping was indeed a vampire, it still didn’t mean he was meant to take the bat form. It did, however, begin to explain how the form came to be.

Kelsey had been right. A hex had been passed down on him. If he was a vampire, it reasoned he was cursed before the species had been erased from the face of the earth… Before the witches had figured out how to kill a vampire. Prior to that, a vampire could be rendered innocuous by being transformed into something benign. A common big brown bat, for example.

You were left with two choices.

Option one was to wait until the vampire reverted back to the bat, then leave him that way. Trust in the witch who cast the hex. Trust that witch law had been just and righteous.

Option two was to kill the thing. You knew he would find his way back to you, seeking help again. While he was small, just a forest-dwelling creature, you could kill him the way you used to kill vampires. Be done with it all.

Sitting on the couch inside your trailer, you began to smell the end goal of Michelle’s animal corpse hunt. She set the pile on fire, plunging Forest Hills into a cloud of death. The smell was too familiar, and you quickly started taping up windows and doors to try to block the smoke out.

While you worked, a third option kept tiptoeing into your head, coming from shadows behind memories. Option three was to help the vampire return and remain in his true form.

Out of your thoughts, nothing was keeping the smell of burning animals from your home.

The perfume of death and ash. The sound of organs and body parts expanding in the heat then popping. The sight of skin melting away from muscle, and muscle cooking onto bone. It was tumbling out of recollections you’d long since buried.

You crawled under the covers of your bed, curled up, and rocked yourself in an attempt to self-soothe. The scent. The panic.

Your life, a witch’s life, was not all rosemary and sage and love spells. You’d witnessed worse than the stories of the Four Horsemen. Worse than Dante’s Inferno and manmade chemical genocide. Worse than Vecna.

The bat was the most calming thing you could think about in the moment. How when he was a bat, he was actually cute, with his fluffy little puff of a body and teeny tiny nose. When he wasn’t a bat, he was beautiful too. Although, you figured it was bad luck to think of a vampire as beautiful. You couldn’t help it.

He was ethereal, porcelain skin a perfect canvas for his ink black eyes and the scars that ripped across his skin. The scars meant he’d been to battle against witches at least once in his life. Vampires could heal from anything but the craft. His hair was the same colour as his bat fur, a deep shade of brown, like sweet soil from the earth or Aztec cocoa beans.

Did he know he was a vampire, you wondered. He’d been satisfying his innate need for blood by draining trailer park animals, but he hadn’t drunk from a human. Not yet, at least. Maybe he was a psychological blank slate. Maybe it would be kind and merciful to give him a chance at redemption.

The smell eased as you made a decision.

Option three was not a silly little dare your mind was whispering to you. It was the only way forward that honoured your oath. Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: An ye harm none, do what ye will.

Until you’d proven the vampire to be deserving of hex or death, you would aim for healing, the craft in which you were most adept.

…

When you emerged from under the covers, all that was left in the air was a lingering aroma of ash and barbeque. You felt a little nauseous but pulled yourself together enough to pick up the phone.

“How do you undo a curse?”

Kelsey barked one loud clap of laughter. “So, your spell sucked?”

“Ah…” The man and his dark eyes. Spilled water. The burrow under your trailer. “Yeah, it didn’t work… But I used a truth mirror, saw that he’s in there,”

“He? The bat is for sure a man?”

“Yeah.” It didn’t feel good to lie to Kelsey, but if she knew he was a vampire, if anyone did, being exiled as punishment would be considered clemency.

“Dude… You’re in so deep. You see that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“If your healing spell even kind of worked, then it means it was definitely a witch who cursed him. This isn’t Romani craft, or a rogue warlock, or fae mischief. It’s your magic. Your lineage. The oath you took. And you want to undo it,”

“What if it was a dark witch,” you tried. The silence on the other end was telling. “It’s not like there hasn’t ever been a witch who-”

“I know. We all know about the dark witches. They’re infamous though. Your little bat friend would probably be in the history books too, you know?”

“I’m being careful, Kels,”

“What, you drew one devil’s trap?”

Damn. “Uh, no. I have-”

“A circle of salt? Some little charms?”

“Why are you being so mean?” you whined.

“Because I don’t want you to unchain the fucking Anti-Christ or some shit,”

“Wouldn’t that be in the history books?”

“Not if anyone had half a brain… Seriously. You need to be more careful than that,”

“I am. I will be careful. I promise… Please? Kels?”

Kelsey groaned dramatically, the sound morphing into a small roar. “Fine! Fuck. But I changed my mind about coming to Hawkins. I don’t think I can handle-”

“No, that’s fine! Totally fine!” You’d forgotten that she’d offered a visit last phone call. You absolutely did not need her to see what you were up to. A second witch in Hawkins would likely cause more of a stir, bringing unwanted attention as well. “Just tell me what you know.”

…

As anticipated, the bat returned to you. When you let him in, he swooped the length of the trailer then came to hover in front of you.

“Hi,” you whispered to him. Holding a hand up, you invited him to land. He did, nuzzling into your palm. “Do you know what you are, when you’re like this? Or do you lose that sense? You just remember this safe place, with me?”

The bat chittered a reply, making you smile.

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

For what the bat knew, you could help. The awareness he’d woken up to was not freeing. There was no liberation. Instead, it was a cold and bitter loneliness. And while briefly finding his true form was an even more excruciating experience, he yearned for it.

You took the bat to the kitchen, letting him climb from your hand onto the counter top. Sitting at the bench on a bar stool, you looked at him carefully.

“Are you listened to me? Do you understand me?” There was no objective way of knowing, so you had to trust that he could. “I’m going to try to help you. But we need to talk first, so we’re going to do the healing spell one last time, okay?” You weren’t sure why you paused for an answer. “You can’t run. I don’t know if you’re consciously connected to the other guy, but if you are, you have to stay with me.”

The third showing of the burning yarrow spell ran smoothly.

“So shall it be.

So shall it be.

So shall it be.”

He appeared in the devil’s trap, then looked up at you. More prepared than previously, you offered a throw blanket to him. The man took it and laid it over himself, not moving off the ground. Holding your hands out in front of you in surrender, you slowly lowered yourself to the floor and sat cross-legged in front of him.

“Do you understand me?” you asked, voice a whisper.

The man nodded awkwardly, as if it were the first time he’d ever tried the action.

You smiled, your entire face lighting up. The man blinked hard, feeling something inside him stir.

“I promise, you’re safe here. If you run now, we have to do this all again, and I’m fresh out of hawthorn.”

Maybe you should have planned for what you’d say to him, because it took a couple of beats of silence and staring at each other for you to speak again.

“Do you know where you are?”

He shook his head. No.

“Do you know who you are?”

No.

“Do you know what you are?”

No.

“Can you speak?”

He opened his mouth, tried to push a word out. His throat was dry, scratchy.

“Okay… Maybe you need… food…” You theorised the stronger he was, the easier speech and thought would come to him. The risk of offering yourself up as a snack was far too great. The idea of catching an animal to condemn to death hurt you to your core. What was the alternative?

You sighed, looking away from the man. The vampire.

You couldn’t condemn a life to death, but there were plenty already doomed fates in Hawkins. Standing up, you grabbed your bag.

“Wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He listened to you lock the trailer’s front door and get into your car. The tires crunched over the gravel before smoothing out onto the main road.

He stayed on the floor for as long as his patience would allow, before finding his feet. He began to look at all the things in your trailer. You hadn’t occupied it long enough to have it filled with knick-knacks and trinkets, but there was enough evidence of you for him to consider.

In the bathroom, he picked up bottles and your hair brush to smell. Everything was so foreign to him. He knew he was alien to a time and place like this.

Your scent was strongest in the bedroom. He followed it into the space, crawling along your sheets until he hit pillow. The softness felt wrong. It made his skin prickle. Still, he curled up on the bed, resolute to remain there until you returned to him.

…

1836

It was the vampire that spoke first the third time you crossed paths. “You have ventured quite far from the settlement, little witch,” he observed, jumping from a tree bough to fall in line next to you.

“And you have ventured quite early in the evening. I can still see the burn of the sun on the horizon. Is it not too warm for you?” you queried.

He smiled. “Your concern is heartening, but I’m in fine health.”

You looked at him, lost yourself in his gaze for a moment before tearing your eyes away and back to the path you were cutting through the woods to the grassy prairie beyond.

He followed you, weaving his own track around you as he disappeared behind trees and brush, only to return with flowers and berries. You took them without question, collecting them in the basket meant for the task at hand, which certainly wasn’t collecting vampire gifts.

When the clearing opened up, you spotted what you’d come for immediately. The green milkweed was growing in abundance. Happily, you began to harvest seed pods from them.

The vampire silently appeared; the long grass entirely mute of his arrival. “What does a witch do with this?” he asked as he inspected the plant for himself.

“Guess,” you challenged.

“Hmmm… Do you grind it up and blow it at a full moon to cure lovesickness? Or can you brew it down to an oil, douse a doll, and curse a soul?”

You laughed, hearty and loud. The vampire smiled from ear to ear.

“No. There is silk on the inside of these,” you told him, holding up one of the seed pods. “It is fine but strong, if you know how to weave it. The humans cannot, but… the craft can,”

“What do you do with the silk?”

“Now that’s a secret,” you whispered, ducking your head and looking at him conspiratorially.

The vampire smirked and nodded, then walked away from you. He stayed in the field and watched you work. When a mother doe and her fawn wandered close, he saw how you steered them away from the milkweed, offering them grass and some of the flowers he had given you.

He’d been still, leaning against a rocky outcrop. If he moved, the deer would sense him and bolt immediately. A few more minutes with the creatures you innately loved, then. You let them feed from your hand and the intimacy of the gesture unsettled the vampire. To stave off the jealousy, he stood tall, letting the deer run in fear. You shot him a look.

“You gave them my flowers,” he offered in explanation.

“Did you not give them to me unconditionally?”

“Unconditionally?” he repeated.

It made you sad, the expression on his face. “I suppose there is not a great deal of unconditional good in your world, is there?”

He squirmed at the insight, stalking away into the afternoon’s growing shadows. “Safe travels home, little witch. Beware. These woods are filled with monsters.”

…

1986

Magic wasn’t meant to be used for mischief or strife or trickery. Sometimes, though, trickery was the best way to avoid chaos. Hawkins Kennels were doing their best to look after stray dogs injured in the ‘earthquakes,’ and to home animals that had lost their owners. Their best was not enough; nobody noticed an old ridgeback go missing.

The dog was sedated, scheduled for humane euthanasia the next morning. He’d been found under earthquake rubble, and deemed too old to go through surgery and rehabilitation. It was the most ethical solution you could think of.

The ridgeback stayed unconscious during the drive back to Forest Hills. You carried his deadweight into the trailer under the cloak of darkness.

When you put the dog on the couch and covered him with a blanket, guilt stabbed through you like a knife. Your nose burned and tears formed. It was against your nature to bring an animal to slaughter.

Standing up, you glanced around, fearful the man had once again left. You felt him though. He was close by. Walking through to your bedroom, you softened at the sight of him curled up.

Still naked, his eyes were wide open, unblinking. Upon first look, it would be easy to say his stare was emotionless. As you watched him though, you realised the blackness was not one void of emotion, but rather the sum of all of them, of all the colours on the spectrum.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, crouching down next to the bed. “Are you… okay?”

His gaze flicked to you in a second, his eyebrows knitting together. You didn’t know what that meant, so you slid your hand across the sheets and held it out to him. He looked at your palm, made some sort of calculation, and looked back at you. Withdrawing your hand, you stood up.

“Come with me?”

Following you out to the lounge room, he stood next to you looking at the dying dog and listening to his laboured breathing.

“I… I don’t know if I should be doing this.”

The vampire listened intently but didn’t take his eyes off the dog.

“There’s this thing inside me telling me that I’m… I don’t know, heading in the right direction? But this feels wrong. And I don’t know if the ends justify the means.”

You looked at the thing beside you. Man. Vampire. Something in between. To be saved. To be saved from. Hunted. Hunter.

“You have to promise me that you won’t hurt him. It can’t be…” Years and years of vampire carnage flashed in your mind. “It needs to be peaceful. If it’s not, I will let you turn back into the bat and I will hex you myself. Do you understand?”

He nodded, his curls bouncing with the movement. His expression was neutral as he walked across the room and knelt in front of the couch.

For a moment, you felt the flicker of panic, but you remained glued to the spot. Censorship was a kindness you’d not allow yourself. You would bare witness to what you had done.

The man ran a hand down the dog’s back before pulling him off the couch and into his lap. It wasn’t tender, but nor was it careless. He nuzzled his head into the dog, then opened his mouth wide. His off-white teeth were deadly sharp, and when they pierced the dog’s jugular, you expected some sort of reaction. The dog did not stir as his blood was drained from him.

Had vampires possessed the ability to bring death serenely all along? Had you only met those hellbent on fear and pain?

It was over unnaturally quick. The man returned the dog to the couch, wrapped the body in the throw blanket, then stood. He looked over at you, his cheeks tinged with the slightest colour and his lips stained red. There had not been a single drop of blood wasted.

As you were about to collect the body, find a final resting place for the dog, the vampire took a step towards you. You froze.

His lips parted. “Thank you,” he said, voice deep and unwavering.

End Note: The timeline and Grimoire have been updated. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings!

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