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klemen-tine · 2 months

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Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse

Part 1

Part 2

@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol

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Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them.

They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career.

Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air.

Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully.

“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed.

“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent.

Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden.

A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast.

The unfairness of it all.

“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans.

“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions.

When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food.

“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.”

“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.”

Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about.

“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’”

“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor.

Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of.

They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness.

It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne.

Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.”

“Just get in the car, Y/N!”

“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!”

“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!”

“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.”

“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.”

Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in.

“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened.

They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family.

“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.”

“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile.

“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?”

“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands.

“How many does this make?”

“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.”

“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips.

Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy.

Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother.

Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears-

“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other.

Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners?

“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now.

Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.”

“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip.

“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.”

++++

“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal.

Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers.

“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?”

“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.”

‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up.

“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.”

“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.” Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?”

Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her.

True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–

“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?”

Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side.

“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?”

“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat.

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.”

“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly.

Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises.

Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest.

However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something?

‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that.

Would he?

“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?”

Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.”

Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there.

Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them.

Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves.

It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis.

“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question.

“How–”

“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.

“Now Y/N-”

“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions.

“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.”

“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker.

“What parent doesn’t know-”

“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.”

Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing.

“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras.

“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out.

“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?”

“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person.

“Y/N! Look over here!”

“Look!”

“Over here!”

A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.

The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present.

“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection.

“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.”

“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face.

“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.”

“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.”

“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.”

Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.”

“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look.

“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.”

“Others won’t believe that.”

“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.”

“And your’s do?”

“We are family!”

“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly.

Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.”

“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew?

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is!

I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.”

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care.

“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!

“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel.

They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t.

“Bruce finally sees it too.”

Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry–

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?”

– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.”

“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.”

Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–”

“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!

How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away.

“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face.

Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.”

“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep.

Because why not.

“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.”

“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail.

“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.”

Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral.

“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction.

A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be.

If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.

Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids?

Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image.

It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in.

Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here.

“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open.

“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.”

“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore.

They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.”

“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner.

E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room.

Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint.

“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?”

‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.”

“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…”

“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.”

When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions.

Hovering or distancing.

Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it.

“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands.

“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show.

However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too.

“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’

“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you.

However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting.

“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father.

“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.”

“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.”

“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article.

Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.

“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–”

“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen.

Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage

Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.

“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.

“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees.

“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist.

“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along.

“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.” Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?”

Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?

“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.”

+++++

“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers.

“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!”

“Good job Y/N!”

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch.

“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises.

“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on.

Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought.

The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple.

“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We’ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further.

Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face.

In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’

Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.

Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow.

“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more.

“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.”

“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist.

He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #batman x reader #bruce wayne #platonic batman #platonic batfam #yandere imagines #gender neautral reader #batman x gn reader #Yandere batman #batfam x male reader #Batfamily x female reader #Batfamily x gender neutral reader

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imtryingbuck · 3 months

Text

Eighteen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 5,786

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names. eating humans (doesn’t happen obviously and it’s only said as a joke) mentions of cheating, mentions of past suicide attempt

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

It had been three years since she was last at home, three years at private school and it was amazing for her.

She made friends with two of the girls there Natasha and Wanda, they had introduced themselves to her first and Wanda shyly had asked if Y/n would like to be their friend, she hesitated at first but eventually said yes which brought a huge smile to Wanda’s face and a shy smile to Nat’s.

They accepted her with open arms and Nat even enjoyed playing in the mud and climbing trees with Y/n. When that fateful day came where they saw her scars she panicked and knew that they wouldn’t want to be her friends anymore but instead of judgemental or looks of horror Wanda burst out crying and pulled her in to a bone crushing hug whilst Nat stood there cursing in Russian. For the first time since James she opened up to what had happened to her.

Not even Steve knew the whole story, especially not Sam. Sam had heard things but chose not to listen; he chose to wait until she had said something herself.

Once she had finished telling them everything she was comforting the two red heads reminding them that she was okay now.

It had felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and for the first time she felt like she could breathe.

If you saw one of the girls the other two was close behind.

Throughout the three years that had passed she had heard about Bucky, Sam and Steve from her parents. The boys had showed up a few days after she had left so James could apologise and when they found out she had gone James started to cry, Steve and Sam too. When she heard about that she wanted to go back home to make up with her boys fighting with herself on whether or not she should but ultimately she decided that she wasn’t going anywhere. James had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t her friend and that he never wanted to be in the first place.

It was a hard decision for her to make but luckily she had Nat and Wanda by her side supporting her.

Now that school was over she was heading back home, she had decided she didn’t want to go to college and after a bit of back and forth with her parents - especially her mom - they agreed to let her do what she wanted to do.

“We’ll see each other in a month Wands don’t cry” she says hugging Wanda who was in fact balling her eyes out.

“A month is so long away an-and what will I do if I’ve forgotten your face or-or your voice?” Ever so dramatically Wanda cried.

“Really? Really Wands it’s four weeks you’re not going to forget anything about me and if you do I’ll have to punch you in the arm”

“Please don’t, but you’re right. I’ll just have to go on living without you my friend, go go leave and don’t look back, I don’t think my heart could take it” Wanda says bringing one hand across her face and the other clutching her chest.

Y/n looks at Nat who stands there with one eyebrow raised “this…this is our best friend”

“I know. Wand why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?”

“Hey I’m not dramatic I’m traumatised!”

Nat and Y/n burst out laughing, shaking their heads at the red head. “Traumatised? Wanda I love you but you my friend are so dramatic”

“I’m trying to be…emotional and romantic well not romantic because even though I love you Y/n I have to admit baby girl you’re not my type”

“Don’t say that-“ Nat says quickly but gets cut off.

“I-I’m not y-your type? H-how dare you!”

“Great just great, look everyone these two weirdo’s are my best friends!” Nat shouts pointing at her friends.

“I have to be honest with myself Y/n/n okay, I can’t keep lying to you it-it’s not fair, I’m sorry” Wanda says in a wobbly voice.

“No, no I understand. I’m just not good enough for you and that’s the truth! Don’t keep lying to yourself Wanda!”

“Guys please stop…” Nat butts in.

“Great you’ve upset our daughter!” Wanda shouts throwing her hands in the air.

“Me? Me? Well guess Wanda she might not even be yours! That’s right I cheated on you with your father!”

“W-what? H-how could you? I loved you”

“But you don’t love me anymore now the truth can be out there!”

“To be fair Wanda could possibly be my dad because we both have red hair…”

“She gets her attitude from you Y/n, how could you do this to us?”

“Us? You’re the one that literally just said I wasn’t your type!”

“Guys please, I don’t want to come from a broken home”

“Oh Natty come here sweetie me and your maybe father was just playing” Y/n says opening her arms for Nat to shuffle into. Wanda then wraps her arms around the pair.

“Well ladies that was a very moving performance if I do say so myself but it’s time for you to break it up and leave” Mr Walters says from the steps leading up to the school.

“Right, sorry sir. Emotional day” Y/n speaks first.

“A lot of truth came out sir, we needed it” Wanda then says.

“Wanda might not be my father sir, I’m so depressed” Nat shrugs.

“I’m…I’m actually traumatised because of you three. Thanks for that.”

“Rude. Well goodbye sir, thanks for being the best teacher ever!” Y/n waves.

“Bye ladies, good luck with everything” he says walking back in to the school, he had to admit that he was going to miss seeing the trio and miss their antics.

“You’re such a teacher’s pet” Nat laughed.

“It’s called respect madam, something you clearly don’t have for your mother!”

“Y/n, baby it’s time to go” Maria interrupts whatever Nat was going to say.

“Coming. Well ladies I guess this is it, it’s been a pleasure knowing you but this is where the curtains close, I bid you adieu.” Y/n bows.

“And I’m called dramatic” rolling her eyes Wanda bows too.

“Alright guess I’ve got to do the same” Nat follows along.

“But no in all seriousness I’m so glad I met you and I’m forever grateful to the pair of you”

“Always Y/n you know this, we’ll always be friends no matter what and we’ll see each other next month” Nat said as she pulls Y/n into a hug.

“I love you both” Wanda says wrapping her arms around her friends.

Pulling away they all smile at each other.

“Last one to their parents cars are a rotten egg in 3…2…1”

They take off running to their parents; Y/n first, Nat second and Wanda third.

“No fair! You guys know I’m terrible at running!” Wanda shouts from her parents’ car.

The drive home was filled with conversations, laughter and catching up. It had been six months since they had seen her in that six months she looked more grown up, more sure of herself, happier.

Maria couldn’t help but smile as her daughter rambled on about what her and her friends had been getting up to. Amazed by how she looked so much like her mama, Maria made it her sole mission to make sure Y/n got a few photographs of her and her mama from the hell hole of a house she grew up in. Maria had kept one for herself it was a photo of Y/n who was roughly three or four years old with her arms wrapped around her mamas neck who had a baby Y/n in her arms as they stood outside a cabin, both smiling widely as the camera captured a beautiful moment between mother and daughter.

It was only after seeing that photograph that Maria understood where Y/n had gotten her crazy unruly hair from, Maria knew that Y/n was blessed to have taken her looks and traits from such a beautiful woman.

Y/n didn’t know that her momma would go to her mamas grave and put fresh flowers down every weekend or how she would sit on the hard ground and speak to the woman she never met before and talk for hours telling her how their daughter was growing, how she was cheeky and caring, how smart she was. Or how just before she would leave the grave where her birth mom laid Maria would place a kiss to her fingers and place them on the headstone and say “thank you my friend” because yes even though she had never met the woman and that she was no longer alive she had become Maria’s friend, and every time she thanked the woman it was for giving her a wonderful gift, Y/n.

“-mom? Momma are you even listening?” Y/n says.

“Oh, sorry darling yes I’m listening”

“No you weren’t but it’s okay I was just saying that Nat had found a rat in her bag and she screamed so loudly it nearly burst my eardrums”

“To be truthful I would have done the same thing” Maria chuckles.

“I know! I had to calm it down because it had gotten scared, I mean well so would I if I had Nat screaming and trying to hit me with a bag” Y/n giggles.

Shaking her head she was so happy that Y/n had Nat and Wanda as friends, they treat her good and were really amazing friends to her daughter. When she met the two red heads she was taken back by watching their dynamic and how well Y/n fit in so perfectly.

“Natasha’s reaction was perfectly justifiable” she points out.

“That’s true but she could have calmed down, I was there and we all know I’m great at talking to animals and calming them down” she smirks.

“Very true angel, listen…please don’t be mad-“

“No…dad you both promised!”

“It wasn’t our idea angel but George’s and Winnie’s, darling they’ve missed you-“

“A party dad? I suck at those things”

“It’s not a party but more like a get together-“

“So a party. Uncle George and Aunt Winnie don’t do “get togethers” dad and you know that”

“Well it’s happening and you’re going to enjoy it, you’re going to smile and have a good time and you’ll thank George and Winnie afterwards” Howard speaks.

“Yes Master”

“Good boy”

“Treat?”

“Not yet”

“Do you want me to give you my paw?”

“Mar our dog talks way too much, I told you we should have gone with a German shepherd and not a Chihuahua”

“Oi I’m not a Chihuahua! If I had to be a dog I probably would be basset hound…”

“Why?”

“They’re so cute and lazy and small”

Howard lets out a booming laugh as he nods, Y/n joins in whilst Maria looks at the driver who’s trying not to laugh “would you be a dear and crash the car for me please?”

“No don’t, I can’t get a treat if I’m dead” Y/n laughs out causing Howard to laugh even louder.

“‘A get together’ yeah alright dad! It’s like the whole world is here” she scoffs.

“Don’t be so dramatic, come on and don’t forget to smile”

Half of the people who had showed up she didn’t even know and the ones she did were either nice to her or people who helped to torment her but doing as her father said she smiled at everyone, saying her thanks when people congratulated her for graduating school.

“My sweetie!” Winnie’s loud voice came from across the garden, Y/n watched at the woman who she’s missed dearly nearly runs over to her.

“Miss Winnie, I’ve missed you!” She wraps her arms around her third mother figure.

“I’ve missed you too my sweet baby, oh look at you! All so grown up and so bloody beautiful, where’s that’s little girl who broke my heart all them years ago gone?”

“I killed her and buried her in the backyard but don’t tell my momma or dada that” she giggled.

“I won’t don’t worry your secrets safe with me” Winnie winked.

“Is-is that…no I don’t believe my eyes. It’s my darling girl!” George shouts ignoring all the looks that get thrown his way as he makes his way over to Y/n and Winnie.

“Hi Mr George”

“Oh my, you’re as beautiful as ever!” He picks her up and spins her around just as he did when she was little “oof and your heavier”

“George!” Winnie scolds.

“What have they been feeding you at that school hey missy?” He asks completely ignoring his wife.

“Humans from all over the world” she winks with a shoulder shrug.

“Are they nice? I’ve been thinking of getting into eating humans”

“Honestly? I recommend that you should, tasty” she laughs, George and Winnie joining in.

“On a serious note though, I’ve missed you darling and I’m so proud of you. And please remember I love you, you’ve always been our daughter too. Oh God I’m so fucking proud of you” George says with tears in his eyes as he remembers the first day he met her, how small and scruffy she was, how scared she look. After what that monster did to her he was scared that she wasn’t going to survive. It’s true though, he and Winnie saw her as their daughter before Howard and Maria adopted her.

“I love you both too and I will forever be indebted to you both”

“Nonsense silly girl” Winnie says.

“Are you trying to steal my daughter away?” Howard laughs as he walks over.

“Obviously, the plan is to knock you and Maria out and I’m going to kidnap this one” George says.

Howard laughs which has George turning to Y/n “he thinks I’m joking, but I’m not”

“Don’t wind him up” she laughs.

She’s oblivious to the conversation that’s happening on the other side of the garden as she laughs with her parents and surrogate parents.

“My sweetie!” He hears his mother call out and he knows instantly that Y/n has arrived as he looks in the direction his mother is making her way over to his breath gets caught in his throat.

His Bunny.

His Bunny all grown up.

His Bunny all grown up and looking just as beautiful as she looked the last time he saw her.

There hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where he hadn’t regretted this shit that spewed out of his mouth that day. When he found out that she had left it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on a million times.

Of course he was never friends with her out of pity, she was easy to talk to, she made him laugh, she was his best friend, his person.

His soulmate as Winnie would say.

But every day he reminded himself that he only had himself to blame.

“I-is that…” Steve questioned with his eyes trained on his best friend who he hasn’t seen in three years.

“Bunny” Bucky nods.

“Holy shit she’s gorgeous” Sam says.

“Yeah she is” Bucky agrees.

“When are you going to talk to her?” Steve asks.

“I’m not. She’s not going to want to talk to me, not after what I said the last time we saw each other”

“That was three years ago Buck, it’s Y/n she’s no doubt forgiven you”

“I doubt it. Steve you have no idea how sad she looked man”

“Bro just go and talk to her” Sam says taking a sip of his beer.

“I-I can’t, are you two going to talk to her?”

“Yeah…well I was going to wait for her reaction with you first before making my way over to her” Steve admits.

“Same if she hits you then I’m staying away but if she doesn’t then yeah of course I’ll talk to her”

“Cheers” Bucky grumbles his eyes refusing to move away from her.

They all watch as she laughs with her parents and Bucky’s, they don’t stop the smile from forming onto their lips as they watch their best friend.

They all carried their own guilt from three years ago and all silently hope that she forgives them for what happened.

“Buck go and talk to her” Steve tries to encourage his friend mainly so he could then talk to her.

“Yeah…yeah I’m going to do it” he puts his drink down on the table before straightening his shirt out.

Just as he was about to take that first step closer to his Bunny he stutters when he sees a tall bulky guy with blonde hair walk up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, watching as she squeals turning around in the guys hold.

He watches as she places her hands on either side of his face and places her lips to his.

He’s pretty certain that he hears his heart breaking.

“Buck…”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“A-are you alright?”

“I’m fine, so she’s got a boyfriend that’s cool” he turns to pick his drink back up and downs it in one gulp. “Do-do you think she’s happy?”

Steve and Sam share a look before answering. “We’re not sure pal”

“I hope she is, t-that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.”

They continue to watch as Y/n introduces the guy to Bucky’s parents and they can tell instantly that Winnie’s smile is fake, she’s always been the one rooting for Y/n and James to get together. The smile on Y/n’s face is as big as it ever was as she stares up at the guy.

“How do you think they met?” Bucky asks.

“God knows, but as long as he treats her right that’s all that matters really.” Sam says eyeing Bucky cautiously.

“I hope so”

As the party winds down the boys not barely moving apart from Sam as he raids the table with all the food on it. They watch as the blonde guy leaves, not without having a make out session with Y/n.

As the guests start leaving Bucky’s quick to notice that Y/n is no longer around and when George stumbles over to the boys he finds out that Y/n’s disappeared and wonders if they had seen her, they all shake their heads.

“I think I might know where she is, hold on”

He makes his way down to the bottom of the garden and climbs over the fence, really hoping he was right.

“Bunny” he whispers when he sees her sitting on the ground in the spot they claimed as theirs, the same spot he first laid eyes on her when he was just seven years old.

“Hi James” she whispers back keeping her back to him.

“C-can I sit next to you?”

“Sure”

For the first time since the two have known each other they sit side by side in uncomfortable silence. It pains the both of them that this is how it’s come down to this.

But unfortunately it had.

“So-um-how are you?” Bucky asked as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m good, what about you?”

“Good, that’s good. I-I’ve missed you Bunny” he admits, his heart squeezing when he sees her flinching.

“Oh”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know why you would have missed me when you didn’t want me to be your friend anymore or ever”

“I didn’t mean it Bun I swear. I was angry an-and I took it out on you, I’ve regretted it ever since”

“Why was you angry? I’m the one that had my back exposed to the whole school and the three people who were my only friends, the only people I trusted more than anything didn’t try and stop it or-or even try and help me. You had no right in being angry James” he hates how she doesn’t raise her voice and hates that she calls him James.

“I know and I’m sorry Y/n I really am”

“It’s okay I guess.”

“No it’s not! None of the shit I said or didn’t do was okay, you’re my best friend Bun and I should have stuck up for you. I shouldn’t have said I chose Dot over you because you always came first no matter what”

“It’s okay because it doesn’t matter anymore, I got over it”

“Over it or over me?”

“Honestly? Both”

Bucky released a choking sob at her admission, she had gotten over him and he didn’t know what to do. “Bun-“

“You shouldn’t call me that James, don’t want to upset your girlfriend”

“I-I don’t have a girlfriend”

“What happened with Dot?”

“She-I walked in on her having sex with Brock”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she said it was a one time thing but he said they’d been at it for months so…”

“I’m sorry, I never liked her”

“Did you even know her?”

“No…what kind of name is Dot anyway?”

“It’s short for Dolores” he laughed.

“Stupid name for a stupid girl. How long were you two dating for?”

“A year, actually walked in on them the day after our one year anniversary”

“That’s cold”

“Yeah. What about you? Lover boy back there” he watches as her cheeks start to turn red and a shy smile on her lips, his heart pounds loudly in his chest at the sight.

“His names Pietro, w-we’ve been dating for five months now”

“How did you two meet?”

“He’s actually my best friends twin brother, we met when her family came up to see Wanda and she introduced us and yeah, he asked me out on a date and then another and another then he asked me out”

“Does he make you happy?”

“He does, well when he’s not talking with his mouth full” she giggled, and for the first time in over three years she looks up at him. Breath gets caught in her throat as he’s looking just as beautiful as he looked the last time she saw him.

“I’m glad, not about the food in mouth when he talks thing but I’m glad he makes you happy”

Not knowing how to reply they fell back into silence but this time it was comfortable.

Y/n was the first one to break the silence “do you know if anyone lives in my old house?”

“No one wanted to move in after…you know”

“Oh. Have you ever been there?”

“Once, I didn’t go in or anything I just stood outside”

“When?”

“A few months after you left. I’m not sure why I did it but” Y/n stood up and held her hand out for James to take and helped him stand, pulling her hand away from his once he was stood up she started to walk in the direction of her old home.

“Come on slow pokes” she called over her shoulder.

“Y/n are you sure about this?”

“My therapist said that it might help me to be able to finally move on”

“You’re in therapy?”

“Yeah, mom said it might help after what I did”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I tried to kill myself” she shrugged.

As she carried on walking she hadn’t realised that Bucky had stopped. She had tried to end her life and no one told him. Bucky had lost her as his friend and nearly lost her in this world completely and no one told him.

“Ducky?”

His heart stopped at that name.

“Duck? Come on we’re not that far now”

“Y-you called me Ducky”

“Well yeah that’s your name isn’t it?” She smirked.

“Bunny please don’t joke about this. You called me Ducky even though we’re not friends anymore”

“You’ll always be Ducky to me James. And who said we’re not friends anymore?”

“We-we aren’t?”

“Nope, we said we’d be friends forever and forever hasn’t ended yet so therefore our friendship is still intact, come”

“B-but what I said”

“It’s in the past”

“Can we go back to being Bunny and Ducky again?”

“Well of course, that’s if you actually did want to be my friend and not just doing it out of pit-“

A loud squeal echoed through the woods as Bucky charged at her picking her up as if she weighed nothing and spun her around. “I never meant what I said Bun never not for one second, please forgive me and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you”

“Buy me an ice cream and all is forgiven”

Laughing he puts her down slowly and nods “I can do that. Bun”

“Yeah”

“Yo-you tried to kill yourself?”

“Yeah, it was about a year ago”

“Why did you try and do it? Why wasn’t I told?”

“I was in a dark place Duck, remember my special place?-“ she taps the side of her head and watches as he nods “-well it wasn’t special anymore and-well I don’t want to get in to it but it got bad so I wanted to end it”

Rolling her sleeves up she showed Bucky the two angry long scars on her arms, he slowly reached out and gently glided a finger down the scars. “Nat found me in the bathroom and screamed out for Wanda who went and got a teacher, Mr Walters came running and picked me up rushed me to the schools nurse and I was taken to the hospital when an ambulance arrived. My parents were called and I begged them not to tell anyone that included your parents Ducky, they don’t know.”

“Bunny…”

“I’m okay now though, yeah I have bad days still but it’s not as bad as it had been and Dr Cho is incredible, she’s so sweet and she’s never once judged me about anything and she makes me laugh, oh and she always has sweets!”

“I should have been with you Bun, I’m so sorry I let you down”

“Hey none of that! It’s not your fault at all, mental health is a bitch-shit-fuck-please don’t tell momma I swore!”

“You still don’t swear?” Bucky laughs.

“No momma says it’s unladylike”

“You? A lady?” He has to stop walking and bends over with laughter.

“Oh shut up! I could be a lady”

“Never!”

Y/n knows it’s true herself but that was beside the point.

“Shut up. Come on I need your support to get this over and done with”

“I’m coming Bun, are you sure you want me here with you?”

“Always”

The rest of the walk was done in silence and before she realises she’s standing in front on the wired fence surrounding her old home. Looking at Bucky she musters a smile that he knows is fake and presses down on the fence and climbs over.

Waiting for Bucky to do the same she stares at the slowly decaying building that’s haunted her nightmares since she was seven years old. The ivy wraps itself around the house, windows are smashed from either Mother Nature, kids playing in the woods or animals. For some reason the building looks just like it’s supposed to - a building. She feels quite silly for letting it terrorise her dreams now that she’s standing in front of it, it doesn’t seem so scary now.

“Bun, we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to” Bucky’s gentle voice came from next to her.

“No I’ve got to, I’ve got to put the monster to bed once and for all. It’s-it-can we just wait out here for a few minutes, please?”

“Of course Bun. I’m right here”

A few minutes go by and she finally puts one foot out in front of the other, taking slow steps towards the place she once called home a very long time ago now. Her chest starts to feel tighter as she got closer to her nightmare.

Pushing the door open Bucky stepped up first knocking the cobwebs out of the way before moving back to where he was before.

“Thanks” she whispered.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. She chanted softly to herself as she forced her feet to move forward.

It was weird. As she walked further into the cabin she saw the small dinning table laying on its side, the two chairs broken and the small dingy couch still in the same spot as they were that night her father nearly killed her.

The floorboards creaked under their feet as they moved around the place.

“Th-this is where it happened” she whispers to Bucky as they stand in the middle of the room.

“Bun-“

“That’s my blood Duck” she points to the faded blood stains on the floor.

“Bun-“

“It’s creepy isn’t it? I laid right there and was on my way to play with angels before the cops showed up and now my blood is stained into the wood”

“Bun look at me, come on Bun look at me. Good, it’s okay. It’s all okay”

“I-I know it’s just creepy isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah it is”

“Can I show you my room?”

“Okay”

Walking down the hallway she comes to a stop in front of the first door on the right and she starts to push the wooden door open, both wincing as the hinges squeak.

“Nothings changed in here ah” Y/n moves over to the tiny desk her mama had gotten her she smiles “look…”

“It’s a stick Bun”

“Ah nope it’s not any old stick Ducky, it’s the stick you picked up the second time we met”

“What? Really, you kept it?”

“Of course aha. Hey can you help me move this?”

“Sure”

They move the desk - well Bucky did whilst Y/n stands there and watches - Y/n thanks him before kneeling down on the floor and started to lift up the floorboard smiling in victory when she sees the metal tin her mama had put there when she was five.

“What is it?”

“This, this has my toys that my mama hid so that he wouldn’t break them” she sits with her legs crossed and smiles up at Bucky as he sits across from her.

“Toys?”

“Yeah, but not any old toys Duck, no these are animal toys-look” she groans as she pulls the lid open “this is a giraffe, this is a sheep? no a goat, and an elephant-“ she lists off all the animals in the box as she blindly hands them over to Bucky who’s sitting there with his eyes fixed on her, the way her smile lights up makes his heart tingle, the way she sounds so happy brings a smile to his face. It had been so long since her saw her shine so brightly.

“And here’s a photo of me and mama”

Taking the photo his eyes bounce from the photo to her, it was the first time since he was either eight or nine that he’d seen a photo of his Bunnies mom “you look just like her”

“No, she’s beautiful”

“Exactly.” He smiles when her cheeks start to go red. “Hey do you have anything of your mamas?”

“Just photos” she shrugs.

“Come” he helps her put all the toy animals back in the tin and stands, helping her raise too he takes her hand and asks “is this her room?”

“Yeah why?”

“Let’s see if there’s anything of hers still here so you can have them”

“Duck…”

“It’s okay Bunny” he opens the door instantly shutting it before placing his body in front of the door.

“James?”

“I-I-we can’t go in there Bun”

“I know. Is there still blood?”

“You know?”

“Yeah, that’s the reason why he nearly killed me that night. I tried to find my mama and went into her room and well, yeah”

“Oh Bun”

“It’s okay, I want to go in it might help me feel closer to my mama if I have something of hers”

“Just don’t look at the bed okay baby”

Baby. Her heart shouldn’t stutter the way it did.

“Okay”

Bucky opens the door making his way over to the bed to flip the quilt over so she doesn’t have to see the stains, again.

“She always wore this jumper, I put it on once and tripped over when I tried to walk” she giggles.

“Take it, what about this?” Bucky hold up a long skirt that had patterns on it.

“In the summer she would pull up over her chest so it was like a dress and look it has pockets!”

“Take?”

“Absolutely”

Over the course of twenty minutes Bucky had found a small suitcase and they filled it with all the clothes she wanted to take.

“Bun is this box your mamas?”

“Yeah it’s where her jewels lived.” Laughing when Bucky cocks his eyebrow up “I couldn’t say jewellery so mama said jewels and told me that the box was their home”

“Fair enough, would you like to take it?”

“Okay”

By the time they had finished it was close to being pitch black in the cabin. “Come on Duck its getting too dark to see anything now”

“Okay” as they moved their way through the cabin laughing at each other when the other had bumped into something, getting to the door Bucky stopped “wait a second Bun”

“Duck-“

“Gimme a second Bun”

He goes back inside and she giggles when she hears him say “ow” a few minutes he comes back out smiling whilst holding up the metal tin that housed her toy animals.

“Couldn’t forget this now could we?”

“Y/n? Where the hell have you been?”

“My old house…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah Ducky helped me get things that was my mamas”

“Ducky?” Both sets of parents say in unison.

“Yeah, we’re friends again”

Their dads, Bucky and Y/n all flinch when Maria and Winnie start screaming in joy, hugging each other whilst they jump around in a circle.

“Don’t even think about it George” Howard warns his longest friend as George slinks over to him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Howie”

“Don’t call me that!”

Bucky takes Y/n’s hand in his and slowly backs up whilst their dads argue.

“That was embarrassing” he laughs.

“It’s cute. Maybe we’ll be like that with our kids one day”

“W-what?” Bucky splutters, cheeks going bright red.

“N-no I mean me and my husband and you with your wife…you know?”

Before Bucky could reply they heard Sam’s voice from the doorway.

“Y/n…”

“Hi Sammy, hi Stevie”

Bucky watches as his three best friends reunite with each other, he has to admit that her comment about kids made his stomach flutter then drop when she mentions about her imaginary husband and his imaginary wife.

For the first time in three years Bucky felt whole once again.

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1 @sibsteria @spencerreidisagorgman @sapphirebarnes @bruher @hawkinsavclub1983 @onlyonetifosi @parisadams @unabashedstarlightcrown @nash-dara @allofffmypeaches @loki-laufeyson68 @behindmygreyeyes @missvelvetsstuff @pigeonmama @lizslibrary @gloriouspurpose01

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months

Text

Daddy’s Home (Dom!Gojo x Sub!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fucking clothes off.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It’s been 3 years. You believe your fiancé is dead. You’ve been attempting to move forward in your life without him there beside you. You try to grieve properly in order to move on….until he comes home. And he’s more than ready to make up lost time.

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Grief; Mentions of Depression, Death & Suicide; Alcohol/Drug Use; Feral!Gojo; Rough Sex; Ripping Clothes; Dirty Talk; Cunnilingus; Forced Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Multiple Positions; Gojo Giving You Deep Dick; Breeding Kink; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Cum Eating; Ownership; Gojo Makes You a Mommy; Aftercare; Degradation; Petnames: Baby; Little Girl; Mama; Sweetheart

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

*IMPORTANT NOTE: In the manga, Gojo is only sealed for 19 days, but in the time of the rest of the manga being written and illustrated, it was 3 years. So the timeline of his being sealed and freed will be 3 years.

Writer’s Note: I’m coping. AND celebrating my man's birthday!! The happiest birthday (and week and month) to my favorite boi! 💙💙💙 -Jazz

********

You’ve never felt such pain before.

It isn't pain that can simply be fixed with a band-aid or a kiss, like a scrape or a cut. It is a deep, cavernous, emotional pain that you have never experienced before...not before losing your fiance. The man you adored and cherished. Your best friend. Your soulmate. Your sunshine peeking through the dark, gray clouds.

But since losing him, all your days are washed with gray. You can't stand any sunny days now, knowing that he loved them and would want to do something–anything–to seize them. "C'mon, baby, let's go get some ice cream!" he'd cheerfully shout. Or "let's go biking" or "wanna take a walk in the park with me?"

Now, all you do is lay in bed and watch the days go by, the pain you feel too much. You've never experienced something so profound and intense. It causes you to cry every single morning into the night until the pink of dawn comes again.

It's been like this for three years now since you lost him forever. It still feels weird to say that: forever. You thought you'd have forever with him, but it was ripped away from you all that time ago during the Shibuya incident. It was a bloody war, from what you've heard; a massacre. So many innocent people perished.

The lives that were spared were among the other Sorcerers and his students, including Nobara who managed to survive Mahito's attack . You visited her all that time she spent in the hospital after the attack as the doctors worked to save her eye. In the end, she lost it, but gained a false one just last year that looks exactly like her real one.

Nanami also survived. It was a close call, apparently. Yuji had found him and attacked Mahito before Nanami could face his violent death. Half of his face and body are completely scalped, but he doesn't try to cover them. They are his battle scars; a reminder of what he is fighting for. He still resides in Japan though you've all been telling him to retire and go to Malaysia. "Not until he's back," he'd fiercely say. "I'm not resting until he's out of that damn box."

He checks on you as do Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, to ensure you're okay. Shoko spent the night with you a few times until you firmly told her to stop. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists or anything," you scoffed. Shoko pursed her lips at you as she smoked her cigarette on your balcony. "No, but you might drink yourself to death first," she mumbled.

And yes, you have been drinking. You've also been smoking. Weed and alcohol are all that cure the pain, at least for a little while. You don't have to see his dazzling smile or snow-white hair behind your eyelids when you fall asleep high as a kite. It's unhealthy and you know that, but what else can you do?

You have nothing to live for anymore. Your fiance is gone. You try to tell the others this, who have worked tirelessly all this time to find a way to bail him out. 'It's been three years!' you think. 'If they haven't found a way yet, they never will. He is never getting out of that box or the Prison Realm.' And that is the sad, horrible truth.

You curl yourself into a ball now, wrapped in one of his crisp button-up shirts, naked underneath. It is twelve in the afternoon. You haven't eaten or gotten dressed, only showered and brushed your teeth (after Shoko sent you a text to do so). Tears stain your eyes which still sting from your sob session the night before. "Satoru," you whimper into the pillows. "Come back to me, please."

You know this isn't possible, but you wish to God or whoever makes miracles happen that it was. How can you live in a world, in a realm, where your love isn't here? You were going to get married, in spring of 2024. He had promised you after a wonderful night of dinner, champagne, and dancing on a private yacht he ordered just for you two.

When he got down on those long legs, one knee propped up, and presented you with that box, you could feel yourself melt. "After all of this is over," he promised, "after I make this world safer for you, let's do it, baby. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." He gave you that big, gigawatt, hopeful smile as you felt tears pour down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. "You up for seein' this face forever?" he joked.

That night, you answered him. Over and over again, making love until morning. Until you were both spent and ached so good from twisting your bodies in a hundred different positions. Until your thighs were soaked with his cum and all you could see, hear, and smell was him.

You were more than prepared to spend the rest of your life like that with him...and now, that's all gone. A fresh wave of grief overcomes you and you grip the pillow, stuffing your face into it. Once again, you say the same words you've been saying for three years like a prayer: "Satoru, come back to me. Please."

BANG!

The sound is so loud and abrupt that it scares you. You sit up immediately, your heart lurching into your throat. You look around the room only to find it empty, but then hear the familiar sound of the front door closing from downstairs. Someone is here. But who?

"H-Hello?" you call. "Shoko, is that you?"

No answer. It is completely silent all except for the birds chirping outside your window which only adds to the ominous feeling of the situation at hand. You never gave Shoko a spare key to your home and you're the only one who can get in and out. So who the fuck is in your house?

You then hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, one by one, as if the stranger is taking his sweet time doing so. You instantly reach for your phone to dial 911 and retreat to the bathroom across the room, but stop when a shadow crosses the bedroom wall, and then a figure appears in the threshold of the bedroom you used to share with your fiance.

You stare at the figure hard as if it's difficult for you to decipher it, but it's impossible not to know who it is. You can tell from how tall he is as he stands there, towering over you in the doorway. You can tell from his lean body sinewy with muscles under his black clothes. You can tell from his pale skin, snow-white hair you used to love to run your fingers through, and iced, blue eyes that stare right through you.

That same lovely, adorable, sexy, dazzling grin crosses his pillowy-soft, pink lips as he stares at you from across the room. “Honey, I’m home," Gojo chirps as if he just walked in from a hard day at work.

You stare him down, afraid to move or speak in fear of ruining this or exposing it for what it is: a trick. A mirage. A hallucination caused by too much alcohol or weed (unlikely, but still). Is this a dream? Are you dead? Did you go ahead and drink yourself to death like Shoko foresaw?

He walks toward you, slowly as if to not frighten you further. You stay on the bed, afraid to move. You're trembling. He finally stops just at arm's length from you, that same smile and warm gaze still on his face. “T-Tarou?” you whisper, finding your voice.

“In the flesh," he replies in that easy, sexy drawl that you've always loved. So careless. So laidback. His expression grows concerned, his brows drawn together. “How ya doin’, baby?” he asks. Your heart flips at the sound of that pet name. You haven't heard it in so, so long.

You scamper towards him, wanting to get closer to him, but then stop, afraid to. He doesn't react to either, still standing there and waiting for you to process this. “No,” you whisper. “This isn’t real. I’m just high as fuck right now.” You put your hands in your hair, gripping the dark coils/braids/locs/curls/twists harshly.

You know that this isn't possible. You haven't touched any weed since yesterday morning, wanting to give yourself a break. Gojo whistles as he nods at the bong sitting on your bedside table. “Well, judging from that, probably so. You got any left? I could use it after the 3 years I’ve had.”

You don't answer. You barely even breathe, afraid to do so in fear of putting a tear in the fabric of this moment and ripping it apart. You still can't tell if this is really happening. Is it a trick of your cursed grief making you see shit? Could it be that a Curse is here and has somehow taken over Gojo's body, and now, they're here to kill you? You would rather take that than this uncertainty.

Gojo suddenly raises his hand toward you as if to touch you, but doesn't. “Touch me," he encourages. Though hesitant, you lift a tentative hand and stroke your fingers over his veiny arm. All you feel is solid, soft, warm skin. Gojo's smile gets bigger. “See? I’m real. It’s really me, baby.”

And suddenly, the fog over your mind has been cleared and you can see clearly. All is for certain, including that the man standing here is your man. Your 'Tarou. “It’s really you,” you whimper. “Oh, my God….oh, my God!” You can't stop the tears or the blubbering as relief and utter joy wash over you.

Gojo opens your arms for you and he barely budges as you shoot into them, not even making him stagger. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and moving your hands over his back muscles. “I’ve missed you,” you sob. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Satoru! It’s been awful!”

He holds you tight to him, solid and absolutely real. “Shhh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he coos. “I would’ve come back sooner, but I had to take care of some things.”

You pull away to look up at him through your blurred vision. He doesn't appear hurt or bruised. In fact, he looks the exact same he did before he was sealed in that box. “What do you–“

“And I’ll tell you everything after I get some pussy.”

You pause, processing his abrupt words. “What?” you scoff. “But what about all that's happened? How'd you even escape the Prison Realm? Have you eaten or drank? What about–"

Gojo, impatient, presses a long finger to your lips. “Forget about all of that right now, Y/N. Worry about the fact that you haven’t seen me in three years and you’re dying for me to put you in the mattress again.”

Then that familiar, dark, lustful look crosses his eyes like an eclipse, taking over him. “I think you’re understanding me clearly," he says, his voice dipping an octave lower than usual. “Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fuckin’ clothes off.”

You stare at him hard, wondering if he is serious. You haven’t seen him in three years. You have so many more questions to ask him. Like what did he do while sealed? Did he see Yuji, Megumi and Nobara before he came? Were they the ones that got him out? Is he okay?

But from the way he is staring you down like he wants to take a piece of you, you can tell that all of those questions will have to just wait to be answered. Plus, the last one is already answered for you: no, he isn’t okay. He is fucking feening for you. He needs you. You can tell from the way his hands grip you closer and from the feeling of his semi hard-on pressing into your thigh from inside his pants.

You can’t imagine what three years without sex was like and you don’t want to. So you’re more than happy to give him whatever he is looking for right now. “O-Okay, Gojo,” you softly stutter. Your hands move to his top to unbutton it, first starting at the bottom. But your hands fumble and shake as if this is the first time you’re doing this for him.

“Takin’ too long,” Gojo growls, impatient. Tearing your hands away from his shirt, he immediately rips the $1,000 top off of you, revealing your laced bra and panties underneath. You squeak as he does so, alarmed. “Gojo, your shirt!” you gasp, especially when the buttons fly all over the place.

“Forget the fuckin’ shirt,” he says, his voice all but a rasp. "I’ll get a new one. It’s not fair how sexy you look in my clothes, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to your chest, breathing you in for a moment. “God, I’ve missed your smell,” he sighs. “I’ve missed how you feel. I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pulls away then, looking down at your hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring,” he points out.

You look down at your hand where the sterling silver engagement ring sits, its diamonds sparkling at you. “Of course,” you whisper. “I never took it off. I’m engaged to you.” You want to tell him that you always dreamed he’d come back, that you wanted him to see you with it when he did.

“So there’s been no one else?” he suddenly asks, his eyes sizing you up. “You haven’t been with any other man besides me?” Immediately, you shake your head. “No, Daddy,” you whisper, immediately falling back into the soft, obedient, submissive state that you always slide into with him as if it’s natural to you. And it is. He makes you feel so safe and loved and kept. It’s impossible not to do so all for him. “There’s been no one,” you say. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.”

A crooked smirk crosses Gojo’s lips that has you quivering in between your thighs. “So one has played with this body but me?” he asks. “No one has played with that pussy but me?” Again, you shake your head, your breath becoming short and labored. His eyes seem to dark even more, becoming an ocean blue. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he whispers. Then his lips are finally, finally, on yours, his tongue dancing and swirling with yours, creating a wet, sloppy, feverish kiss that takes your breath away.

You moan wantonly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. Oh, how you’ve missed this. How you’ve only prayed to feel these lips again. At some point during the dizzying kissing session, Gojo pulls his clothes off, breaking apart from you to strip himself of his shirt, pants, and shoes, leaving himself in his designer briefs that look way tighter than usual.

Actually, now that you’re noticing it, his entire body looks buffer than usual. Gojo has always had muscles but was leaner three years ago. Now, his muscles are more defined, pushing up against his shirt when he has it on.

He smirks at your wandering eyes. “Something you like, mama?” he purrs. He takes your hand, running it over his hard abs and chiseled abs where his pink nipples are hard for you, ready to be sucked. “Something…different?”

“It’s just…you’re so…” You shudder in delight as he slides your hand down his stomach that you could bake cookies on. “Big,” you decide, running your free hand up his forearm. “You don’t have much to do in the Prison Realm except work out and masturbate,” he chuckles. “I wanted to be bigger and stronger for you when I was finally free. And I wanna let you know something, baby.” He leans in then, pressing his lips against your ear. “It’s all yours,” he whispers. “This body…this cock…everything. All of it is yours.”

You shudder again as his dirty words swirl in your mind. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Lemme show you what I mean.” Then, instantly, he is snapping off your bra and flinging it away before his lips and hands are latching to your nipples. He sucks and licks at your hard, brown nipples like a hungered man, his hands groping the sensitive globes and pinching your nipples with his long, piano fingers. “Look at these beautiful fuckin’ titties,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ve missed my girls so much.”

Your head falls back and your mouth opens, captured by the pleasure he is giving you. “S-Satoru,” you whimper. Every graze of his teeth and lick of his skillful tongue has your pussy gushing. You haven’t been this wet in three years! Actually, you haven’t even been horny in three years. No one has ever been able to arouse you the way Gojo can.

You find yourself rolling your hips against his knee as your hands grasp his broad shoulders for balance and leverage. Gojo hums as you grind your wet, panty-covered pussy against his knee, smirking up at you playfully. “Grindin’ that pussy on my leg, hm?” he tuts. “Even after three years, you’re still a little slut. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.”

He gives one of your titties one last suck before he shoves himself away from you. You stare up at him, confused, while he only gives you a stern look. “Get on the bed and open your legs. I need that pussy in my face.”

You are helpless to refuse him, especially when your pussy is begging and sobbing for the same thing. You quickly hurry onto the bed and sit back onto your elbows as you open your legs for him. Gojo is between them immediately, his hands ripping off your panties as if they are no more than strings. As soon as he gets a look at your puffy, wet pussy leaking for him, he groans and his cock visibly twitches in his pants. “Shit,” he hisses. “I’ve missed her too.”

And then he’s giving in like he would the cleanest, purest, bluest waters, his hands under your ass to give him a better angle and a better way to plunge his tongue deeper inside you. He laps and sucks at your pussy and sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around your hole like he needs it. Craves it.

You grab at his hair, pushing his head deeper into you as you wail and moan to the heavens above. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out to the ceiling. “‘Tatoru, yes, more! Please give me more! Don’t stop!”

Your voice bounces off of the bedroom walls, unbound and unashamed. You haven’t had this kind of pleasure––so intense and explosive––in so long. His wet mouth and soft lips feel so good. His nose brushing against your clit as his tongue swirls inside your pussy is beyond. You feel incredible…too incredible. Gojo works his mouth fast, pulling you quickly towards an orgasm that gathers in your core and threatens to tumble down over you.

“Wait, Daddy!” you protest. “Slow down! ‘M gonna cum too fast!”

Gojo’s blue eyes peer up at you through long, white lashes as he continues to lap at your cunt. “Do it,” he demands. “‘Cause I’m finna make you cum as many times as I want to. I’ll make you cream your pretty brains out till dawn, baby. I’m making up for lost time.”

He ducks back down, going faster, and even adding his long index and middle fingers inside of the wet, tight depths of your pussy. Your walls clench around him instantly as he expertly finds your G-spot and begins gliding his fingers up against it, encouraging you to cum with every stroke of his fingers and tongue. “Do it,” he orders. “Cum for me. Cum around my fingers and my tongue, gorgeous. I’ve got you. I promise.”

And you know he does. He grips one of your hips with one hand as he finger fucks you with the other, humming “mm-hmm” and other encouraging words that are smothered by your pussy as he drags you closer to your orgasm. When it finally breaks, it crashes onto you like a wave, causing your back to arch off of the bed like you’re experiencing an exorcism. “Fuck!” you sob as you feel your body shake and shudder through your earth-shattering orgasm.

Moans of Gojo’s government and curses to the stars leave your lips as Gojo carries you through your mind-blowing, body-shaking, earth-quaking orgasm…and even after, when your body aches and your heart is pounding, he continues to eat your pussy.

He continues to lap and suck at your lips, cleaning up the cum that dribbles out your hole and down your asscrack. He licks there too, moaning breathlessly and wantonly as he does. Finally, when he is good and satisfied, he pulls away from you and sits back onto his hands, breathing heavily with his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his saliva.

A weak moan leaves your lips as your pussy twitches in delight and exhaustion at being stimulated. You feel so, so good. So free. You finally feel as if the sun has finally shown itself behind the gray clouds that have darkened your life for three years. You look at your man adoringly, wanting him to know how much you love him and how good he has made you feel. “Gojo,” you sigh. “That was amazing. I–“

“Open your mouth,” he demands. You button your lip, your words failing you immediately. You stare at him blankly, your post-orgasm brain not quite processing his words. Gojo sits up on his knees on the mattress, grabbing his cock in his pants. “You fuckin’ heard me,” he growls. “Open that slutty mouth, now. Don’t make me tell you again, little girl.” He pins you down with an intimidating look that is only intensified by his sapphire eyes.

Once again, you can’t deny him. While still recovering from your orgasm, you open your mouth wide for him, your plump lips covering your teeth and your tongue out. Just the way he likes it. Gojo walks towards you on his knees and stays beside you as he unbuttons his pants. In one swift motion, he takes down his pants and his briefs, causing his cock to pop out. The long, thick, veiny appendage, bubbling with pre-cum from its pink head, lightly slaps you in the face, causing you to gasp.

Gojo grabs your neck rather roughly, pulling you towards his cock without properly preparing you or waiting for you to prepare yourself. You stare down at his large dick, alarmed at how hard he is. The veins in his shaft throb as does his head that is quickly turning from a soft pink to an angry red. “Gojo, hold up–“

But your words are interrupted by his cock sliding between your lips. A hiss of relief leaves Gojo’s lips as he grips your neck, beginning to rut his hips deep into your mouth. “Sorry, mama,” he groans, “but I can’t be nice to that throat today. I’m just too pent-up. You understand, right?”

You can’t even answer. His cock is too thick; too big; it stretches your mouth out too wide, making your jaw hurt. But all you have to do is breathe through your nose and take it, which Gojo tells you to do so, as he begins to fuck your throat like it’s your pussy. Like it’s his own personal fleshlight.

“Fuckin’ fuck yes!” Gojo loudly grunts, his voice completely primal and animalistic as he roughly fucks your throat. Though he has fucked your throat before, this time, it feels much, much different. He grips your hair and makes your scalp sting with how much he pulls it. He plunges your throat so fast and so hard in your sloppy throat that saliva drips down your chin and down your tits. He turns your face into his fuck toy, doing with it as he pleases.

But though primal and animalistic, he is still completely involved with your pleasure. When you suddenly feel his fingers quickly rubbing your clit after licking his palm, your body lurches and your thighs twitch while you whine and protest feebly around his cock. “Theeeere we go,” he chuckles. “That’s what I want. Feel good with me, mama. This is where your weak, right? Right here?”

He applies more pressure, rubbing your rosebud in time with his thrusts into your throat, his balls swinging against your chin. All you can feel, taste, and smell is him. Your senses are completely overtaken by him. “T-Tawou!” You moan around his cock. “Two mwuch! ‘M sensitive!” Your words are a muffled, jumbled mess around his thick dick, causing more spit to fall from your mouth as you try to speak.

You go to close your legs, but Gojo’s hand yanking on your hair stops you short. “Uh-uh, sweetie,” he teasingly says. “Don't pull away. You owe me this.” He pushes your head farther down his cock, bottoming out in your mouth, causing him to moan so loud that it echoes in the bedroom. “You owe me this for stayin’ so damn sexy after so long. How is that even possible?” He questions you repeatedly as he fucks your throat harder and faster, grunting as he does so. "How's that possible, huh? Huh? Tell me, baby.”

You are turned into a total and complete hole the more he fucks your mouth and flicks your clit, bringing you to yet another orgasm that has your thighs shaking. Finally, he releases your hair and lets you pull away, causing his cock to pop out of your mouth. “Gonna cum!” you whine, spit and cum all over your mouth. “I’m cummin’ again, Satoru!”

Gojo stares at your pussy like a kid in a candy store as you cum once again, gushing all around his long fingers and all over the bedsheets. “Gooood girl!” he praises you. “Cum on these fingers, baby. Gimme what I want, but don't get too distracted, mmkay?” He takes his cock and slides himself back home into your mouth even as you moan and your body writhes on the bed.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, transfixed by the way your body moves and your pussy clenches. “That’s what I want. This is what I need.”

He rubs at your clit until he can feel your exhausted body jerking from the aftershocks. He finally pulls away from you then, cock and all, though he is still hard and throbbing. “I need to fuck you now,” he growls, desperation in his eyes. “And I can’t stop until I cum inside you, baby…without a rubber. Is that okay with you?”

You blink at him, your sight slightly blurred from the two orgasms and your throat raw from it being fucked into oblivion. He must know that you will say yes. He must know that you’ll say yes to anyone he wants or needs. But yet, he still asks because safe sex has always been a priority with him in your relationship. He has always used condoms and has always made a point to not do anything involving PIV sex if he happened to run out.

But now, here he is, telling you that he needs to fuck you raw and cum inside you, possibly breeding you. And you find yourself burning for the same thing like a wildfire has lit inside you. You lean back against the pillows and open your cum-soaked thighs for him, showing him your glistening, puffy, sensitive pussy. “Yes,” you reply. “Fuck me, Daddy. Cum inside me. Breed me.”

Gojo stares at your pussy, spread open for him like it’s spun gold. Suddenly, the loving, silly, goofy man you’ve grown to love is gone, replaced with one who is starved, rough, demanding, and merciless. It thrills and frightens you.

“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ get it, girl,” he growls before he grabs you, tosses you onto your back, and gets on top of you. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re spent,” he promises as he throws your legs over his shoulders and prepares to slide deep inside of you until his balls touch your ass.

When he says this, he means it. Baby, Gojo has you in every position known to man.

He starts first by fucking you in missionary, giving you deep, deep dick that nearly touches your soul and makes you see stars. One of his big, veiny hands wraps around your throat, squeezing gently on your windpipe, while the other pins your thigh open as his cock plunges in and out of your wet, sobbing cunt. He pounds you into the mattress, his big body pressing against yours and his hips nailing your pelvis.

Then he has you on top in 69, his hands groping and smacking your jiggly ass while he, once again, stuffs his face in your cunt. You suck his dick in time with his tongue laps, gagging and slobbering all over his cock much to his delight. It is sloppy and dirty and messy…and you love every minute of it.

You love how his pubic hairs tickle your chin the deeper you slide him down your throat. You love how your eyes sting with tears as he tickles the back of your throat. You love the way his tongue slides from your pussy hole to your asshole, lapping at each one as if they’re the best things he’s ever tasted.

He fucks on your back, hanging off the bed. He fucks you on your stomach, your ass tooted up while his feet are firmly planted on the bed, hammering his dick deep inside of you. He sucks you on your side, his hands cupping your jiggling breasts while his lips caress your neck and shoulder. And he makes you cum every. Single. Time.

By the time he has you on your knees with his cock buried deep in your pussy once again and your arms pulled behind your back, your body is aching for rest and your pussy is a mushy, gushy mess around his cock.

But still you persist, moaning and screaming at the top of your lungs the harder he fucks you. Your voice, along with his own, the creaking bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, fills the air around you. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me!” you babble, your words a jumbled mess.

Gojo cackles from behind you, loving how slutty and broken you are on his cock. “You feelin’ good, baby?” he asks. “This dick makin’ you feel good? Don’t have to use those damn toys or those fingers anymore, no. You’ve got me now and I’ll take good, good care of this pussy.”

He slams his hips harder against your ass, making it bounce and jiggle. The harder he goes, the more intense your orgasm gets and you find yourself about to have your sixth orgasm of the day…or night. Is it nighttime now? You can't tell. You’ve been at this for hours, fucking and cumming all over the bed. You don't even know what day it is anymore.

All you can think about is Gojo’s dick and cumming on it. “Shit, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob.

Gojo’s hand circles around your throat, choking you. “Cum on this dick,” he demands. “Do it! Fuckin’ do it for me, baby!”

And you do. Like a puppet on a string being controlled by the white-haired, big-dicked man behind you, you writhe in the air and cum all over his cock. A weak, long moan leaves your lips as you come undone, all self-control leaving you. Gojo pulls out of you with a hiss, talking about how “fuckin’ tight” you are. When you’re released, your arms fall to your sides as you crumble onto the mattress, falling face-first into the pillow. Your body is hot and sweaty, your pussy is twitching, your ass is stinging from his assault on it. You are completely spent.

Gojo leans down to kiss your forehead, smiling at your exhaustion. “Aww, is my baby tired now?” he coos. You weakly moan in response, too tired to speak. “Too bad because I still need to cum inside you. You did ask me to breed you and I’ve gotta make this count.”

Before you can even protest, he is grabbing your weak body and forcing you onto your knees, hiking your ass up for him. He sinks into your overly sensitive, used pussy once more, drawing a moan out of both of you. You let him do as he pleases, too exhausted to fight or argue.

He takes hold of your hips and ruts into you like his life depends on it, nailing that spot again and again that makes you see the entire universe behind your eyelids. It feels so damn good. He fucks you at a breakneck pace, going faster with each second that passes. “O-Oh, s-shit!” you scream into the mattress. “F-Fuck, Daddy, f-f-u-uck!”

Gojo’s fucking is egged on by your moans, his pelvis slamming into your ass and taking your very breath away. “Take this cock,” he groans. “Take all of this dick, baby. It’s yours. All of it is fuckin’ yours. It always was and always will be.” He hikes up his leg and fucks you on one knee, causing him to grow louder and his moans to become more desperate and needy.

“God, I missed this!” he whines. “I’ve been fucking burning for you, baby. Needed you so, so much!” You picture him in the Prison Realm, his hand wrapped around his cock as he is surrounded by darkness and loneliness. As tears spring into your eyes, you lift yourself up onto weak arms to look back at him. “Then show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Cum inside me, ‘Tarou, baby.”

You begin to toss your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust. Gojo takes what you give him and serves it right back, moving in tandem with you. “You want me to cum?” he asks. You nod, moaning and whimpering as you feel his cock begin to swell inside you. “You want me to feel that pussy up?” he grunts. “Want me to make you a mommy? Want me to give you a kid? My kid?”

He begins to pound your pussy into the mattress again, picking up speed. You can feel your last orgasm rising, ready to rip through you. “Say it to me, mama,” he demands. “Tell me you want my baby. Lemme hear it.”

“Yes!” you cry out. “Yes, Satoru, I want your child! I wanna mother your baby!” That must please Gojo because he begins rolling his hips harshly against your ass, rutting into you like he’s trying to fit a home run. His handsome face is red and glittering in sweat, his snow-white hair plastered to his wet forehead.

“Can’t wait to see you full with me,” he groans. “Can’t wait till this tummy is round with my baby and those tits are full of milk. You’re gonna look so, so pretty carryin’ my baby, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best mommy ever.”

And he’ll be the best daddy ever. That is all you can think as you feel your own orgasm rising at the same time as him, like the sun and the moon rising in unison in the sky. Forever bonded. Forever together.

“Gonna cum,” Gojo warns. “Gonna cum deep inside you. You’d better cum with me too. Cum all over my cock, baby. Cum with me while I fill this little pussy up.”

You nod and wail into the pillow, gripping it for dear life as another blinding orgasm rips through your body. Gojo fucks into your wet, cum-soaked pussy until he feels his own nut coming and he desperately fucks you to chase his high. “Cumming!” he babbles. “‘M cummin’, I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!”

And when he fills you up, it’s explosive. It’s deep. It’s intense. It fills every part of you, filling you with warmth and the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. You weakly moan as you feel his cum fill your tummy, no doubt reaching your womb. He stills for a moment, plugging his cum inside you, before slowly and sloppily rocking his hips into you to fuck his cum deep into your pussy.

When he is finally sure that you’re good and bred, he puts his hands on his narrow hips and whistles tiredly. “Shit,” he sighs. “I really needed that.” You moan in agreement. He then pulls out of you slowly, causing you to whimper quietly as your aching pussy is no longer filled.

He stares at it between your thighs, humming appetizingly. “Mmm, now that’s a sight: a pretty, fucked pussy drippin’ with my cum. Don’t mind if I do.”

Then his mouth is between your thighs again, lapping gently at his and your cum mingled together all over your pussy and inner thighs. You arch your back for him, moaning softly at his soft, careful tongue strokes.

When he finishes, you turn to him, finding his semi-hard cock dripping with your mingled fluids. “You still got some left here, Daddy,” you coo before moving to lap up the cum you left behind on his cock. He allows it, his hand in your hair while he sighs about how good you are.

Once you are cleaned up and all is said and done, the two of you finally lay side by side in your bed, together again at last. You curl into his chest, leaning your head against his heart and wrapping your arms around him. He welcomes it, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “Welcome home, baby,” you whisper as you look up at him. “Now you gonna tell me how you got out?”

He looks down at you, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to answer a bunch of your very important questions. “Oh, Itadori did that,” he explains like he’s telling you the weather. “He’s a smart kid, y’know. Say, you up for some sushi? I’m cravin’ some fish right now.”

All you can do is laugh and kiss your man before getting the takeout menu that you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. All the important questions can wait.

For now, all you want and need is him.

THE END.

#smutty smut #my works #black fanfic writer #my fic shit #black coded reader #black writers #satoru gojo x black!reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #feral gojo #happy birthday gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut

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temptingfatetakingnames · 8 months

Text

The Last Steve Harrington Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Hello my loves. This chapter was very difficult to write and it is very heavy. If you have no triggers please continue to the story. If you do have triggers please read the warnings carefully. I do not want anyone to be hurt by my story. I'll put a brief synopsis under the tags.

Trigger warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide

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It was late in the night; their plan had been set and there was nothing left for them to do but sleep. As if they could. As if it was that easy. Steve was on his back with Eddie tucked into his side. He stared at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept well in days but his body still refused to rest. Even though there was no immediate danger he thrummed with tension and apprehension. He had this terrible feeling –

“I have this terrible feeling it might not work out for us this time,” Eddie whispered against his neck and Steve clutched him tighter against him. His heartbeat quickened at Eddie’s words, at the confirmation that he wasn’t the only one feeling this sense of doom. They had been too lucky. Over and over, they had planned and they had fought… but they had been lucky. The problem with luck was that it always ran out eventually. He just had to hope that it would hold out one more time.

“It’ll work out,” he whispered back just as quietly. Trying to reassure himself and Eddie. It had always worked out for them before…and it would again… it had too.

Steve awoke quietly that morning, rising out of the dream and into his new reality without blood or red skies. It felt wrong. He deserved to wake up screaming from his nightmares. Steve hadn’t known how terribly he had lied to Eddie that night. Hadn’t known what awaited them the next day. How badly it did not work out. Another betrayal, another failure.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and rested his hands in his lap. He turned them over and looked at the scars and callouses he had gathered over the years – the memories carved into his skin. He brushed his fingers over the bite on his left palm. Remembered ripping the bat away from Eddie and it latching on to him instead. It had torn a chunk out of him, leaving behind an ugly mess of scar tissue when it healed.

Light was already shining in the window and he could hear movement throughout the house. He got out of the bed and stood quietly for a moment, taking in the sounds. Joyce was in the kitchen and he could hear a shower running in the bathroom. Turning, he looked at the back of the mirror. Steve hadn’t looked at himself since his first night in the house. He walked over to it and turned it around; his stitches had been removed yesterday and he was curious how he looked.

The man that stared back at him was one he was starting to recognize. His eyes weren’t as sunken and there was some colour in his cheeks. The scars across his body stood out starkly, however. Jagged lines and bites of torn away flesh. Trauma that had begun in ’83 and never stopped – only escalated. A small scar was mostly hidden in his hairline, courtesy of Billy. A thin line wrapped around his neck from a Demobat, almost unnoticeable unless you were looking for it. His torso was a canvas of healed pain – with scar tissue covering his sides in large chunks. They had been too healed for the doctors to do much. Claw and bite marks from his most recent wounds had been tidied, the skin was still red but the lines were clean now and the stitches gone. Other small scars ran down his arms and legs. He had nerve damage in three of his fingers from the bat bite and he was partially deaf in one ear. Migraines and nightmares plagued him constantly and it was difficult to meet his own eyes.

Broken.

He stared at the man in the mirror for another moment before turning it back around. Closing his eyes, he brought his hand up to his chest feeling his heartbeat. Opening his eyes, he strode to his dresser and pulled out clothes for the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Robin had said about Other Steve in the bathroom a few nights ago. There were differences in their stories, especially from high school but everything about Scoops and after had seemed the same – just swap Robin and Eddie. It was the sameness that he couldn’t get out of his head. He needed to figure out the moment of divergence that caused them to have such different endings.

He needed to talk to the kids; out of the people he could reasonably discuss all of this with, they had known Other Steve the longest. It’s not like he could walk up to his parents and ask them for his life story. He was afraid to see the kids again though and especially afraid to learn more about Other Steve. He had to though – had to face it and them. He just didn’t know if he was ready.

When he walked into the kitchen, Joyce was at the stove and Eleven and Will were sitting at the table eating breakfast. He sat down with them.

“Good morning, Steve,” Joyce said as she put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. The kids smiled at him; mouths too full to speak.

“Morning,” he replied quietly.

Chatter continued around him as he ate his breakfast. Hopper came in, hair still wet from his shower and took a seat at the table. Steve’s appetite had been returning slowly and he gave Joyce a small smile when she put more bacon on his plate. It was a lovely morning but Steve still had to fight the urge to scream and ruin it.

He cleared his throat and turned to Will. “Could you radio everyone to come over? I’d like to talk.”

Will looked surprised but he nodded. “Sure, Steve.”

---

Dustin showed up first.

He must have left his house as soon as Will got off the radio with him, he was there so quickly. Steve was in his room when the doorbell rang. He set his book aside and waited. Hopper brought Dustin up a moment later, showing him into the room and then leaving. Steve got up from the bed and they stood facing each other. This was the first time Steve had really looked at him. He was taller than he remembered, older. A ballcap was pushed down over his curls and Steve wanted to take it off and ruffle his hair. In another universe, he would have. His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

“I’m sorry about the code red,” Dustin said, breaking the silence.

Steve thought about what to say in response. He knew that Dustin hadn’t meant any harm. Thinking back to the panic he had felt in the moment though, Steve couldn’t deny that he had caused harm. He could tell that Dustin knew that though, his eyes glancing away and back to Steve’s.

“It’s alright, Dustin,” he finally answered.

“I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“I know.”

That got him a tentative smile.

“I brought some stuff for you,” Dustin said coming closer and pulling his backpack off his shoulder. “Some books and movies, snacks and things you might like. Will said you’ve been reading The Hobbit over and over. I brought you the The Lord of the Rings.”

“The Lord of the Rings?” Steve asked.

Dustin nodded. “By the same author, it’s a sequel to The Hobbit… sort of –” He trailed off, walking over to Steve’s bedside table and picking up his book.

“It was my Dustin’s,” Steve said quietly.

Dustin examined it closely before he opened it to the first page. Written in the right corner was ‘property of Dustin Henderson’ in a looping, childlike script. He could see Dustin’s hand grip the book tighter.

“It’s the same as mine,” he said in an awed voice, “the handwriting and placement, it even has the same rip in the cover.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to talk about parallel universes and why some things seemed to carry through and others didn’t.

“Thank you for the books, it’ll be nice to have something new to read.”

Dustin put The Hobbit down and turned to smile at him. “I can’t wait to talk about them with you! Steve wasn’t much of a reader. Who’s your favourite character? What’s your favourite part?”

Before Steve could even begin to think of a response to his questions, the doorbell rang again. Dustin was still smiling at him, waiting for him to answer, but Steve definitely couldn’t handle an exuberant Dustin one on one.

“We should go down,” he said instead, “and see who that is.”

Dustin didn’t seem disappointed as he turned towards the door and they both went downstairs. Will was already letting Max, Lucas, and Mike in when they rounded the corner into the living room. Eleven was standing off to the side and Dustin was just ahead of him. It felt like a moment out of a horror movie as the six of them all turned to look at him. It was the first time since the hospital they had all been together. His gaze slowly went around the room, taking each of them in. His kids; beautiful and alive and… not his. He felt on display as they all looked back at him. He crossed his arms across his chest as he felt the panic start to rise.

Will clapped his hands and all eyes turned to him, allowing Steve a moment to breathe.

“Everybody downstairs!” he called out.

“Hi, Steve,” Max said smiling as she walked by him.

“Steve.” Lucas nodded at him as he followed her.

“Hey,” Mike said.

Dustin went too and then it was just him, Will and Eleven. He ran his fingers through his hair. This was a bad idea; he wasn’t ready for them all. It already felt like too much, their eyes too heavy.

“Are you okay?” Eleven inquired.

He took a deep breath and nodded – he needed to get this over with. Will started walking over to him as a knock sounded on the door. He went to open it and Steve saw Robin and Eddie standing on the other side. Will moved back so they could come in and he closed the door behind them. Robin came right over and gave him a quick hug and a peck on his cheek.

“Harrington,” Eddie said and… it hurt. Steve thought the way Eddie said his last name would always hurt.

He tried not to show it as they went into the basement. It was Steve’s first time seeing it. There was a big comfortable couch and chairs surrounding a television and a huge table at the back of the room with DnD stuff completely covering its surface. Everyone was getting settled so Steve went to sit down in one of the empty chairs. He fiddled with his hands as he waited for everyone to get comfortable.

“What did you want to talk about, Steve?” Dustin asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Now was the moment. Back out or keep going? He needed to know what was different about him. He wouldn’t have peace until he knew what the defining moment Other Steve had that he didn’t. He needed to know.

“Tell me about him,” he said. “Tell me about Steve.”

Shared looks went around the room before Dustin started speaking. He settled in and listened intently to the story of Steve Harrington.

---

At the end, Steve was surprised. At least in terms of the kids and The Upside Down, their stories were the same. There was still a lot of his early life that he was missing though. They were looking at him intently, waiting for him to get his thoughts together, waiting for him to speak.

“A lot of it is the same. Except the end, obviously…” Steve trailed off.

“What were you like in high school?” Eddie asked suddenly, looking at him intently. He had asked the same question in the hospital. Steve hadn’t answered then, but for some reason the question really mattered to Eddie.

“I was a sort of popular I guess, friendly with everyone and no one tried shit with me or my friends. I was on the swim team but wasn’t the star by any stretch. Most days I hung out with Nancy, Jonathan and Barb. Got closer with the kids in ’83 when everything went to shit. I wasn’t the best at school but Nancy helped me pass. Me and Eddie became friends at Scoops and Robin joined the group after Vecna killed Chrissy in her room.”

“What about Tommy and Carol?” Eddie questioned.

“What about them?”

“You weren’t friends?”

“Why would I be their friend? They were assholes.”

The room was very quiet. They all looked at each other. Back and forth.

“So, no King Steve?” Robin stressed.

He shook his head. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Eddie and Robin took over the story, filling in a big missing piece from the kids’ retelling. Robin had mentioned a bit of what Steve had been like in high school, but they told him the rest of what they knew of him then. The popular jock who ruled the school, the bully who didn’t care about anyone else. By all accounts a mean asshole. Robin told him what happened with Nancy and Jonathan and how Steve had been introduced to The Upside Down. How he could have left, could have avoided all of it… but he went back. Then getting closer with the kids… and then the rest.

King Steve. The first key difference then…but it still didn’t explain why. Why would being ‘King Steve’ make a difference in their ending when the moments before were so similar? Why? Why? Why?

“… I still don’t understand why you want me here. I’m not your Steve. I’m a goddamn coward and I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve to have any of you.”

“There are echoes, Steve,” Dustin said earnestly. “Parallel universes. Not divergent, parallel. There are going to be differences, some of them big – like you living – some of them small – like your favourite colour or something – but a thread is going to weave through them all. You said yourself that most of the big things are the same. You’re not a coward.”

Steve couldn’t help but shake his head at his words. Dustin got up and stood in front of him, he waited until Steve met his eyes before he asked, “did you help Nancy and Jonathan against the Demogorgan?”

He hesitated a moment before he nodded.

“Did you help me look for Dart and defend us at the bus?”

He nodded.

“Did you fight Billy and go into the tunnels with us?”

Steve could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him. Heavy. So heavy. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes. He nodded.

“Did you get tortured by the Russians and help us defeat the Mind Flayer?”

He nodded.

“Did you fight with us against Vecna?”

He stared up at him, eyes hard, but Dustin refused to look away – looked back at him just as hard until Steve finally nodded once.

“How does any of that make you a coward, Steve?”

“Can’t you see how that same thread was leading up to a predetermined moment where I was supposed to die protecting one of you? I spat in the face of destiny and my family suffered the consequences for it.”

More looks around the room, a question going around that no one would be blunt enough or cruel enough to ask. But they didn’t have to ask it. Steve knew what the question was. The question he had been dreading since they had torn him out of his universe and told him that every other Steve Harrington had died a goddamn fucking hero. He remembered the fear. Fear for himself and for everyone else. How chaotic everything was once the battle had started, how immediately the plan went to absolute shit.

“I don’t know why I didn’t. There wasn’t a moment that screamed ‘if I step in front of that blow, then Eleven can take him down, or if I lead away the bats, they’ll have a chance to do something.’ I was scared… Everyone was failing, struggling, and I – I could see that we were going to lose and I just…didn’t want to die,” he finished quietly, ashamed. He turned away; he didn’t want to look at them. Didn’t want to see the disappointment or the pity in their eyes.

“I don’t know what made me different from all the other Steves. I don’t know what they saw during the final battle or how they knew what to do to save everyone. I don’t know.” Steve put his head in his hands and cried. He had been afraid and he didn’t want to die, there was no other answer. No absolution. No justification. No forgiveness.

Dustin’s hands gripped him and pulled so Steve’s head rested on his shoulder. His arms came around him and he whispered, “it’s okay, Steve,” over and over. But Steve shook his head… because it wasn’t.

“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings,” Dustin whispered into his hair as Steve tried to breathe.

But Steve wasn’t the snow. He was the fire and the dragon.

---

Steve didn’t like to go out during the day, finding the sun too bright, too much. Leaving the house at night felt safer, more comfortable. He was used to the darkness. The sun was something he thought he would never see again – and was now something he denied himself.

Steve wandered the streets, lost in thought. The kids had left after he had stopped crying, he could tell they wanted to stay but Eleven and Will convinced them to go. Robin had stayed for longer, but he wanted to be alone and she had left too. Eleven and Will tried to get him to watch a movie but he told them he was tired, spent the rest of the day in bed but couldn’t sleep. He had left as soon as he knew everyone else was sleeping. He didn’t know how he would ever be able to face any of them again. He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to see the pity and sadness in their eyes – didn’t want to feel the weight of their memories and expectations anymore.

Steve tried to remember the last time he had been happy – truly and peacefully happy – and the moment that came to mind was when he thought he was dead. When he thought he was in heaven, reunited with his family. When he thought everything was over and he could finally rest. He wanted that feeling back. It was all too hard and he didn’t know how to let it go – the anger, the pain, the guilt. He was drowning in it. He had clutched those feelings tightly to his chest when he thought they were all he had left, but now they were suffocating him. But worst than the anger or the pain or the guilt was the fucking hope.

It was trying to wriggle its way in and he couldn’t take it. It hurt worse than anything he had ever felt before. The hope that he could live a happy life here… but…

His kids were dead and it was his fault.

How could he ever let himself be happy when his kids were dead? How could he ever move on and live when his kids were dead? So, the hope had to die too. He didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t let it in. He had to atone. Had to make the sacrifice he didn’t make the first time and set everything right.

Endings.

The quarry was quiet when he arrived, though an angry wind kicked up around him as he stood at the ledge. The stars shone brightly and it was a beautiful night to die. If there was a God, he would be reunited with his family when he died, even if he was in the wrong universe. He prayed that his soul would know where to go, that it would find them. He felt bad about leaving the kids here – but they didn’t need him, he didn’t know why they thought they did. Other Steve had taken good care of them. They would be fine. He hoped that they would never find his body, would believe that he had simply… left.

He looked over the edge, at the long way down. The fear he had always felt in the presence of danger was silent for the first time. All he felt was peace. He was going home.

Steve took a deep breath, looked up at the stars, and raised his foot.

Part 7

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @goodolefashionedloverboi @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @queenie-ofthe-void @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @nailbatandfreak @newtstabber @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86

Synopsis: Steve hits his lowest point after learning about the life of Other Steve. He is tormented because he believes that learning about his life only confirms that he is a coward who failed his kids at the moment he should have saved them. Nothing in Other Steve’s story explains why their endings are so different. He is tired of his guilt and wants to rest with his kids, he goes to the quarry and contemplates jumping.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #multiverse #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #the party

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whalyrae · 1 year

Text

THE OLD GUARD CHAPTER 1

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 2.8k

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm

A/N : finally the courage to post this ! Hope y'all will enjoy it 🥺 ps : sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language ! 💜

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 2

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

People say that soulmates are the ones who make life come to life. They are muses. Soulmates will naturally make you feel seen, heard, understood, valued, supported & loved. Soulmates will bring out your inner child, be open with you & give you best friend vibes. They'll heal, grow & evolve with you–not only in this lifetime but in every dimension.

At first, when she met him, she agreed with all of these. But in the end… These numerous lives she lived through decades and centuries taught her that love was never enough.

She was… well, kinda immortal. Of course, immortality doesn’t exist. Every life ends one day. Even vampires are not immortal.

But her? She couldn’t die. She was killed more than once, she even tried to end her own life. Too many times. And she failed. All attempts were unsuccessful. She was cursed. A damn curse who keeps her from dying. She never knew why it happened or how it happened.

She stopped aging around 25. Several centuries later, here she is. It’s been ten years since her arrival in South Korea. First in Busan, she moved to Daegu, Gimpo, and finally Seoul, where she lives now.

She was finally able to open this esoteric shop she had been dreaming of for a few decades already. She found the perfect spot, in a small alley, near a cute coffee shop. Called "The Dreamcatcher " it was run by other witches, like her. Gahyeon, one of the owners, became a close friend.

Quickly, she befriended Gahyeon's mates and co-owner, Minji and Siyeon, both witches too. The four others, Bora, Yoohyeon, Handong, and Yubin worked there too as bartenders and pastry chefs. But unlike Gahyeon and the first three women, they were demons.

It wasn’t uncommon for witches, demons, and other creatures to be soulmates or partners. It was also common to see four, five, or even eight soulmates together. Polyamory was almost ordinary for non-humans.

These seven girls became her closest friends. They even helped her sometimes, with new books' arrival, or when she needed help rearranging some herbs and crystals. Gahyeon and Handong were the ones who visited her the most, always bringing her a strawberry cake, her favorite pastry, or a coffee in the morning. They often hang out together, mostly in her house which was just upstairs from her shop.

Her esoteric shop, called "The Magic Shop ", quickly became popular among creatures and some humans. Her hours of service were different from usual shops. She was closing later in the evening in summer, and early in the morning in winter, to allow vampires who feared the sunlight to come.

Also, people liked her. She was always kind and generous. An adorable little ray of sunshine, even though she was one of the most ancient witches still alive. Her knowledge of the magical world, history, art, literature, and magic was immense due to her age. She always gave perfect advice, always guided her clients in the right way and she always took good care of them.

Yeah… she was not alone anymore, right?

It was a lie. She was wearing a mask every day. Of course, her kindness wasn’t faked. She genuinely loved helping people. But despite this, even with all those warm smiles she gave to her clients and friends, she was deeply blessed and hurt by her past, Lonely, suffering from many wounds and scars that weren’t healed, and will probably never be.

Too many times, the girls tried and still try to convince her to meet people who they think could be her potential soulmate. But she always refused. Love and soul mates have almost always been a taboo subject for her. She never wanted to be with anyone. And none of her friends knew that she had already found her soulmate. She even knew she had seven. She never told them about that. She never talked about him. The first of the seven soulmates she had that she met, centuries ago. The only one by the way. This person she lost because she was too weak, too stupid, and too young. And she never saw him again. She was sure she would never see him again.

Or at least, that’s what she thought. No matter what, soulmates always end up together.

That day began like others. Gahyeon came to see her in the morning, with a caramel macchiato and a croissant.

“Unnie! Don’t forget to eat! If you need help, you know where we are !”

She thanked her friend with a nod and a smile, already immersed in her new book. She just finished a herbology book last night, and now wanted to change and read a novel. It was a romance. She didn’t even remember she had Lisa Kleypas's books but well, It Happened in Autumn was on her personal bookshelf.

She took a sip of the coffee, almost burning her tongue at the warmness of the liquid, making her wince a little. She then took a bite of the croissant, chewing slowly while rereading the same passage for the third time.

She knew why these words were touching her so much

It may be time to take a break.

“Is the book so bad to make you sigh like that ?”

That sudden voice startled her. First, because she has yet to hear the new customer enter her store. Second, because his voice was… deep, soft, comforting, making her body shiver. She looked up at him, and time seemed to stand still for a few seconds.

Her eyes widened. Her breath stopped when she saw his face, felt his presence, and saw his gaze filled with an emotion that she only figured out much later. Because unlike her, when his eyes landed on her, he immediately understood. He knew who she was, and who she would be for him. And he never regretted it.

Her body, her mind, everything reacted viscerally at his presence. Even he seemed surprised, but he was the first one to come to his senses.

He gave her a smile, a smile so sweet, so tender, that her heart swelled with a warmth she hadn’t felt since… something like an eternity.

“Yeah… I mean, no !” she tried to act as normal as possible, smiling shyly “It’s just… a passage, nothing special !”

“What is it? It Would be awful to make you frown like that !” he asks gently, his grin showing small dimples she wanted to kiss suddenly.

“It’s… it’s not important! You’re the customer, after all, I’m sorry! What can I do for you, Sir ?”

This name on her lips, with this voice. Damn it. Namjoon could become addicted to it so soon… And they only just met each other. Did she feel the same things as him?

When he first came here, it was just curiosity. One of his friends recommended this new place, which opened a few months ago. According to this person, it was held by a powerful witch, as kind and sweet as beautiful. That's not what caught his attention at first. It was mainly because there were no specialized esoteric shops for demons like him and his partners.

But as soon as he set foot in the store, everything changed. A sweet smell came to tickle his nose. Her smell. A scent of vanilla. He recognized it immediately. This scent he had been waiting for since he was born. The scent of this special person he and his sixth other mates had been waiting for so long. This person they need in their life to be fully completed.

He looked up, searching for her, and there she was. In front of him, only a few feet away.

She was the most beautiful person he ever met. And he was an old demon. He met plenty of humans, witches, and other creatures in his long life.

Perched on her chair, her nose in her book that seemed to both disturb and hurt her for some reason he didn’t know and didn’t like at all. She wasn't supposed to have that pain on her pretty face. She was supposed to be happy. That’s all she deserved and he was willing to move and destroy mountains to make that happen.

He almost let out a grunt when he saw her burn her tongue with her coffee. So beautiful and so clumsy. He already knew Jin and Yoongi would be possessive and protective over her.

“I have time,” he replied, his smile didn’t want to disappear, “I’m not a big fan of Kleypas, but I read a few of her books.”

“Me neither to be honest” she answered with a nervous laugh “but I found it in my bookshelf and… I was curious, there, this part.”

She was about to give him the book, but she saw him rubbing the back of his head.

“I have a terrible sight and forgot to take my glasses, can you read it to me ?”

Actually… he had them. He never left without them. But he wanted to hear her voice just a little bit more.

She looked at him a little surprised, but let out a small laugh.

Oh.

Oh, that laugh. Namjoon’s heart almost dropped.

That simple noise sounded like a sweet song in his ears and made his heart almost skip a beat. That was the cutest sound he ever heard. Even Jungkook’s moans couldn’t compete with that. Namjoon was sure that the maknae would not be mad at this but would agree with him.

She took a glance at him. Why should he be so… so attractive? Why did she have that feeling of comfort and trust? She didn’t even know his name.

Oh, you already know why, sweet girl, he’s one of them, her inner voice whispered to her, but she quickly pushed it away.

It was impossible. It couldn’t be that. She didn’t even want to think about this word.

She inhaled deeply. With the book in her hands, she finally started to read the small lines, ignoring the aching in her heart :

“There is nothing on earth more beautiful to me than your smile...no sound sweeter than your laughter...no pleasure greater than holding you in my arms. I realized today that I could never live without you, stubborn little hellion that you are. In this life and the next, you’re my only hope of happiness. Tell me, Lillian, dearest love...how can you have reached so far inside my heart ?”

She had to pinch her lips together to hold back her tears. These words, these phrases. They brought back memories, happy memories that time made painful. Namjoon saw her reaction and had to restrain himself from hugging her, wrapping her in his arms to protect her. What happened to her for being hurt by such beautiful words? Maybe she fell in love with a person who made her suffer. He was ready to cross the world and the underworld to find them and make them suffer.

“I… I’m just not a fan of romance, too lovey-dovey for me, you know ?” she told him after a few seconds with a small laugh and shook her head, closing the book. “Ah, forget that, may I help you? Were you searching for something in particular ?”

She tried her best to mask all her negative feelings and the huge attraction she felt for him. He was her client, she had to stay professional. Namjoon understood it. He wasn’t worried. Now that he knew who she was and where she worked, he had plenty of time to get to know her, to tell others who she was, to tell them about her.

How he couldn’t wait for them all to be together! He would have loved to take her with him today, to have her meet her other mates, but he felt that something was making her reluctant and distant about soulmates' bond and everything related to it. A deep and still painful wound. He needed to be patient and make sure they all would be.

He already knew that Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung would be the hardest ones to contain. They were only young demons… only a few decades old. Still babies, always in the need to be stuck together or to one of the elders.

“Is everything okay, sir ?” She asked after a few seconds without any response from the man, worried.

“Yes… I mean, ahem. Yeah! Sure, I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat.

“I came here out of curiosity, and heard about your place from a friend, Bangchan.”

“Oh, Chris! Sure I know him! His boyfriend Félix comes here pretty often, he’s a good friend !” She agreed with a smile. “So I assume you’re not a human too, maybe a vampire, like him ?”

“I’m a demon.” He answered with a smirk.

He had to be a demon. His (her) mates should be demons, too. Maybe he was with them? Maybe Namjoon has found all of his (their) other mates?

“Oh, I’m Kim Namjoon by the way, nice to meet you.” He told her. His smile didn’t want to disappear.

“Y/n, nice to meet you too, Namjoon.”

She hesitated when he offered her his hand, but took it. The small electric shocks she felt when their skins brushed together made her stop breathing again for a few seconds. She felt something inexplicable, specific to this particular bond, that she hadn’t felt since… for an eternity. She needed more, she wanted to feel more. She wanted him. She needed him.

Fuck, his hand was so big compared to hers. Long and pretty fingers fitting with hers perfectly…

This wasn’t good at all.

“Ah, this static electricity,” she muttered, laughing nervously, trying to refrain from these feelings inside her. “Hum… if you have any questions about magic, herbs, books, you know where I am…!”

“Yeah… yeah I know where you are… I wouldn't hesitate, thank you, y/n.”

Namjoon definitely knew that something was wrong. Something that made her suffer deeply and that blocked her from wanting and accepting the bond between her, him, and their six other soulmates. And he would do anything to find it out, to help her and finally get them all together.

°°°

Later that day, after the closure of her shop, once she's finally at home, showered and wearing her plaid, she sends a text to Gahyeon.

“Sorry to disturb you now Hyeonie but… can you come, please ?”

She didn’t need to wait for an answer. She wasn't the type of person to send the first message, even more to ask for help.

🦊: Unnie?

🦊: Is everything okay?

🦊: Did something happen?

🦊: Wait! No need to answer, I’m coming with food!

🦊: Handong is coming too!

Seeing her friend so concerned warmed her heart. Gahyeon was a blessing, like all the girls. She didn’t want to bother them, but she didn’t know what to do anymore, and loneliness was the last thing she could bear tonight,

It didn't take very long for her two friends to arrive at her house. Gahyeon immediately came to sit next to her on the sofa, Handong was behind her, a bag with food in her hands. She offered her a sweet smile, although she was also worried, as was Gahyeon who took her hands in hers.

“Tell us now! Have you met a rude customer? A weirdo tried to do something to you ?”

“No, not at all, Nothing bad happened, it's just… I met someone and…”

She made a pause and took a deep breath. Gahyeon and Handong looked at each other, suddenly concerned. She never called them for something like that. It was the first time she called them at almost midnight.

So it was quickly that they connected the dots.

“Wait, you mean you met one of your…”

“Don’t…” she began, her voice shaking, “Handong please, not this word…”

She squeezed Gahyeon's hand, holding back her tears as she remembered the events earlier this morning.

"He…” she began, hesitating, “he already met them, all of them, I felt it. I’m the last one and… it means,” she took a deep breath, but tears rolled down her cheeks without her controlling it, “it means that he’s with them…”

Gahyeon took her in her arms when she burst into tears. She couldn't hold back her emotions. She cried. She couldn’t stop even if she tried. Her heart hurt so much. All these years, these centuries of loneliness and suffering...

That guy she met today, Namjoon. He was one of her soulmates. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t deny it. He felt it too, she was sure about that. But no… she couldn’t… she didn’t want to live that again. And that’s why she broke down in Gahyeon’s arms. Because even if she met her soulmates, and could be with all of them, she would not and could not risk going through that again.

Not after what happened centuries ago, when she met her first soulmate, how she messed up, and how she lost him at a point where he forgot about who she was.

“Jinnie…” she whispered between two painful sobs, “Jin is with them…”

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xinrouska · 10 months

Text

Villain Leo Animatic - Breakdown

⚠️TW: Violence, Blood, Guns, Themes of suicide, Attempted murder

youtube

The animatic takes place over a few years, starting from when Leo reveals himself to his brothers again after a 3 year absence (23 years old). It focuses on the tension between Leo and Donnie as time goes on, Leo’s resolve crumbling while Donnie slowly loses himself as well. In other words, who’s really the villain? This is going to be very long, let’s get 🔪started🔪

The Coin

Sue me if it wasn’t obvious, I will not figure out how to animate a coin flipping. But the circle motif shows throughout the video because they’re twins, two sides of the same coin. What happens to one, will happen to the other.

The Pupils

The pupils were a signifier of their current moral standing. White for “villain” and black for “hero”. It could also be seen as insanity vs. sanity. You’ll notice that by the end of it, Leo and Donnie have switched but I also want to point out where and why:

Donnie

After Leo left, Donnie spent all his energy going into finding him. He’s worried, he cares, he wants his brother back regardless if Leo has committed murder. He couldn’t find him, and it’s here that Leo reveals he’s been working with Kendra for all tech related support.

Donnie and Kendra’s relationship at this point is more of a rivalry. They have a respect for each other and as much as Donnie hates to admit it, he looks forward to seeing the inventive ways Kendra can get in his way. She’s been a constant in his life since a teenager. However, she’s been a constant “enemy”.

Donnie sees this as the biggest betrayal against him. His own brother willingly teaming up with his rival like that. Leo’s supposed to be on his side, and this is so uncharacteristic to Donnie that it’s at this moment he realizes he doesn’t Know Leo anymore. This is where he loses hope on bringing Leo back because the Leo he knew doesn’t exist.

Leo

The animatic takes place over a few years, roughly three. We haven’t publicly explored what’s going in these years but a quick summary of it is that Leo has been spiraling further and further since the start. Since the Kraang invasion actually. His goal has always been to protect his brothers, it’s simply that his method of it became extreme, he became obsessed with it.

At this point, it’s near the end. He’s tired, he’s been questioning his motives, he doesn’t know if it’s all worth it, in comparison to his desire to just be with his family again. He fights with Donnie and he’ll never use lethal force against him, but that’s not the case with Donnie. Donnie is doing everything in his power to kill Leo and when Leo realizes this, his first thought is “what has my brother turned into?”. It’s sobering, reality crushing, when he realizes his own twin desperately wants him dead. He gives up.

First Chorus

I wanted a moment that showcases a bit of Leo’s skills and personality. He’s clever, strategic, manipulative, and his strongest weapons are his words. He knows this. He’s a good actor and he’s a performer, all to show that that’s the villain aspect of him that he’s struggling with. It taunts him. Still, he believes the best way to protect his family is to eliminate all threats possible.

Donnie’s progression are the stages of grief he’s going through realizing his brother is “dead”. He watches recordings of their past to figure out where things went wrong, but also to grieve.

Time is a bit vague here and there’s quite a bit that isn’t shown here actually. Leo has cut ties with Kendra (that’s a whole separate thing and the result is that Donnie hates Leo even more). Donnie watches Leo through the cameras throughout the city. Leo knows he’s being watched, it’s bittersweet, he’s already having doubts during this time. Donnie, during this time, has decided to transform the Genius Built company and turn it into tech powerhouse. It used to be a side project, but now he’s utilizing it to take over power on topside in terms of technology and economy. This is a parallel to how by this time, Leo has near full power and control in the undercity crime rings.

The Bridge

Leo questions everything he’s doing as the past taunts him of how things used to be, of how things Should be. Also dives into his reason for all of it. The Kraang hurt the people he loves the most, as if they were worthless.

On Donnie’s side, he’s more and more determined to take Leo down with his own hands. That is his sole goal. Everything he is doing and creating is for that purpose. But his inner child, a part of him that wishes for things to just be ok again, is desperate for him to stop, to question things and think. Also he’s CEO of GB at this point. Pretty straightforward with the Leo is the person he hates the most but was once his beloved brother.

The Fight

Donnie using lethal force to do everything in his power to kill Leo. Leo is more skilled than Donnie is, he has more experience killing but he absolutely will not kill his brothers, that goes against everything he’s working for. Because of that, Leo is destined to lose this fight. He also loses his will to fight after seeing how much Donnie needs to kill him. While Raph was the first trigger of starting all of this, Donnie is the second trigger of making him give up.

Donnie won because Leo still loved him dearly.

“I’m glad it was you.”

Of all the people to kill him, he’s genuinely glad it’s Donnie who’ll do it.

On the other hand, Donnie recognizes the resignation in Leo’s eyes, but after the last few years, he can’t help but wonder if it’s another trick. He feels Leo’s ninpo, and he hasn’t felt it in a very long time. It’s nostalgic, it’s comforting, but he’s already come too far. “I must kill Leo” has cemented into his mind as a fact.

Parallels

I included these parallels because I wanna highlight that they’re “two sides of the same coin”. They’re twins and their fate are closely tied together. Leo will kill anyone to protect his family. Donnie will kill Leo to protect everyone, including his family.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! The story doesn’t end, Leo doesn’t die here, I should clarify that LOL. There’s a lot more of the story to cover but I’m glad I was finally able to show this aspect of the au. If you have any questions, feel free to message me (xinrouska) or starrcrossrose on twitter, instagram, or tumblr!

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rise leo #rise donnie #villain leo au #xrh art #tw blood #tw violence #tw sui ideation #Youtube

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smilingformoney · 5 months

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Rickmas 2023: Day 15. Cards and Coals | PL/Reader

AN: This one dedicated to @serenanight87 who keeps begging for more smut and is definitely getting coal in her stocking this year 😏

Content warning: set in a rehab clinic, mentions of suicide

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

You had been in the rehab clinic for a little over three months now, and it was starting to look like you were going to be there over Christmas too. You could always discharge yourself, of course, as you were there voluntarily, but really you knew it was the right thing to stick around.

You were alone in the rec room, writing out a Christmas card to your family with a cigarette between your lips, when you heard the voice of one of the orderlies showing a new patient around.

“Oh, and there’s [Y/n]! Her room is right across from yours. [Y/n], you’ve got a new neighbour! This is Paul.”

You looked up to see that your new neighbour was a man in his late forties and strikingly handsome with a mop of blonde hair.

“Everyone calls me PL,” the handsome man said. He seemed stable enough, but then again so did a lot of people in this place until something went wrong.

“Well, how about I leave you two to get to know each other?” the orderly said before scurrying off, leaving you alone with PL.

You leaned back and looked him up and down as he sat down across the table from you with a sigh.

“Let’s see…” you said thoughtfully. “Suicide attempt?”

PL raised an eyebrow at you. “What makes you think that?”

“I have a radar for these sorts of things,” you grinned. “What’d you do?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was innocent?”

You laughed.

“Go on, you can tell me, it gets out eventually. I’ll show you mine, look.”

You pushed back your hair slightly to show him an angry red mark on the side of your head.

“My mam always did say I had a thick skull. Can’t even shoot myself right.”

PL stared at you, flabbergasted. “You shot yourself and survived?”

“Bullet couldn’t get past my skull. Rubbish bullet, if you ask me. Go on, then. I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

“I really didn’t try to kill myself,” PL insisted. “I slipped and fell into the bay. Doctors wouldn’t listen when I said it was an accident.”

“Ah… so you’re here involuntarily. Good luck with that! You’ll never get out.” You took a last puff from your cigarette and stumped it out. You glanced down at his hands, which were fidgeting slightly on the table. “Got a wife outside?” you asked.

“No. Got a husband?”

You scoffed. “Nope. Wanna fuck?”

“Do you proposition every newcomer here?”

“Nah. Just the hot ones. How about it? It has been a very long three months.”

PL looked you up and down, then shrugged. “Alright.”

***

A few minutes later, having dodged being spotted going back to the same room by an orderly, the door to your room closed behind you as PL pushed you up against it and locked his lips against yours. You opened your lips to let his tongue slip past, and already his hands were on your body, grabbing hungrily at you. You were horny and lonely, and he was hot, so you grabbed at him too, your lips separating briefly as you both pulled your tops off.

PL hesitated, staring at your body, one hand on your hip while the other caressed your breast through your bra.

“How old are you?” he asked quietly.

“Twenty-five. You?”

“Forty-nine. That alright?”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

He bent down on one knee and began nuzzling at your breasts, his nose caressing your skin as his tongue teased along the edge of your bra. He unzipped your trousers and pulled them down to your knees, causing you to gasp as the cold air hit your skin. His fingers danced along the edge of your knickers, then slid past to caress your lower lips.

Not having had sex in three months, you hadn’t groomed in all that time, but that didn’t seem to bother him. PL pulled down the cup of your bra and attached his lips to your nipple, at the same time pushing a finger up into you, easily aided by the liquid that had been pooling down there since you’d first laid eyes on him.

“Oh, fuck - PL…” you gasped, surprised that he was taking his time to explore you before even unzipping his trousers. You’d expected him to just ram it in as soon as he could, like every guy you’d ever been with before, but he seemed to be actually enjoying exploring your body.

Another finger joined the first, and you let out an embarrassing little whine when he scissored open his fingers, stretching your walls out. He let out a satisfied hum when he heard how much you were enjoying it, then with his spare hand he reached around your chest to unclasp your bra, which you promptly tossed aside.

PL released your breast from his mouth with a pop, leaving a shiny red mark behind around your nipple. He looked up at you, his amber eyes alight with mischief, and began thrusting his fingers up into you rapidly.

You cried out, and he had the nerve to shush you.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, do we?” he said quietly, nodding at the door you were currently pressed up against.

“Bed,” you managed to say.

“If you insist.”

He withdrew his fingers from inside you, helped you step out of your trousers, and chuckled when you eagerly scurried over to your bed, which was hopefully far enough away that any orderlies walking by wouldn’t hear you. They never heard you touching yourself, or if they did they ignored it, but by the size of the bulge in PL’s trousers, you suspected you were going to be feeling a lot more pleasure today.

You sat on the side of the bed, and as soon as he got close enough, you hooked your finger under his waistband and pulled him closer.

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckled.

“Someone hasn’t been fucked in three months,” you replied with a grumble.

“Is that what you want?”

PL grabbed your wrists in his hands, stilling your fumbling attempts to get his trousers off.

“Do you want me to fuck you, [Y/n]?”

You looked up at him, and your cross expression only made him laugh.

“Yes. I think I made that pretty clear. Fucking ruin me, PL.”

“And you’re just across the hall from me…” PL said thoughtfully. He released your wrists from his grip, only to squeeze your cheeks to open your mouth, and he slid his fingers past your lips, and you tasted yourself on him.

“Suck me clean,” he growled. “Go on, I want to see how skilled you are with those lips of yours.”

You obeyed, wrapping your lips around his fingers entirely, your tongue running up and down his digits to lick your juices from his fingers. He watched you with a burning desire in his eyes while you took the opportunity while he was distracted to pull his trousers down, and you couldn’t help gasping around his fingers when his cock bounced out of his boxers. You could tell from his bulge that he was big, but you hadn’t realised he was that big.

PL chuckled and withdrew his fingers from your mouth. You reached for his cock, your mouth already open to take him, but he pulled your head back.

“Ah-ah,” he said, shaking his head. “If you do that, I might well finish before we get started. You said you wanted to fuck, and fuck we shall. Get on your back.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you said obediently, pushing yourself up the bed to lay your head on the pillows.

A strange look crossed PL’s face. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, sorry. Just slipped out.”

“It’s alright.” He pulled the rest of his clothes off until he was as naked as you, then climbed on top of you, crushing you beneath him with his weight, and you felt the tickle of his cockhead brushing against your thigh. His lips grazed against your neck, and he held your body flush against his, as if he knew how much the pressure of lying underneath him turned you on.

“Twenty-five, you say?” he mumbled as he raised his head to look at you.

“Yes,” you replied breathily, wondering why he was age checking you again.

“And you… know your parents?”

“God, I talk about them enough during therapy every week, I don’t want to talk about them now,” you complained, your hips wriggling underneath him as your cunt tried desperately to seek him out.

“But you do know them?”

You frowned at him. He was being completely bloody serious.

Well, maybe he was nuts enough to be here after all.

“Yeah, yeah, I know them. They’re paying for me to be here.”

“Alright.”

He slowly thrust his hips forward, his cock sliding against you, just missing where you wanted him, and you whined in frustration.

“PL, please, please, oh my god, I fucking need you to fuck me. Please, please…” You begged, almost crying with need, and PL sighed.

“Alright, alright! Jesus.”

He reached down between you and took his cock in his hand to guide it to your entrance.

“Yes, yes, PL, please, fuck - fuck!” You gasped as he finally, finally entered you, his girth stretching you out so sweetly as he sheathed himself inside you.

PL let out a long moan of satisfaction when he bottomed out inside you.

“Oh, that feels so good,” you sighed with relief, feeling that sweet burn you’d missed so much. And was it just because you’d gone so long without sex, or was the stretch even better than you remembered? Then again, PL was definitely the biggest cock you’d ever taken, and it felt fucking fantastic.

He began thrusting inside you, slowly, and he pushed himself up so that he was looking down at you, and all you could see above you was him, his gorgeous hairless chest and his pleasure-addled expression.

“Faster,” you begged, your hips trying fruitlessly to thrust up against him from below, but he had you too trapped to give you any space to move. “Please, faster, faster…”

“Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” PL smirked.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fucking desperate, PL, please. You can fuck me slowly some other time, we’ve got months, but I really need to be railed, please.”

“Alright, then.”

You groaned in relief as his hips snapped faster against yours, finally bringing you the pleasure you’d been craving so desperately. He felt so damn good inside you, just big enough to stretch you out without hurting, and when he sat up on his knees a little more, his angle changed and his cockhead found your G-spot, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“Thought we didn’t want to get caught?” PL smirked.

“Don’t - care - fuck, that’s so good - god, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, PL…”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes!”

PL grinned and threw his head back, his eyes closed, and you both lost yourselves in the ecstasy of your violent pleasure. There was nothing else in the world, nothing at all, just you and him and the smacking of his skin against yours, your groans and breathy mutterings of yes and please and so good.

Your groans peaked into a cry of pleasure when you felt PL’s thumb pressing at your clit, rubbing around the juices that were leaking from where the two of you joined. You grabbed at his thighs, desperate for more of him, and your nails dug into his skin as you felt an explosion of pleasure within you, causing your entire body to violently shake as you came harder than you had in what felt like an age.

With a gorgeous girl underneath him, screaming his name as she writhed in pleasure, what else could PL do but cum? Your channel clenched around him as he shot his seed inside you and you milked him dry for all he had. His groan was deep, guttural, animalistic and absolutely fucking beautiful.

He dropped your legs, his energy spent, and had to stop himself from collapsing on top of you, as much as you wanted his body weight on you.

“Fucking hell, [Y/n],” he panted. “I’d have gone to rehab a lot earlier if I’d known this was what it was like.”

You laughed. “A bunch of sad, isolated fucked up people confined to one building - what did you think was gonna happen?”

PL pulled out of you and rolled over to prop himself up on his elbow next to you. “And you say you’ve not fucked since you got here?”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t feel right… like I’m taking advantage of their vulnerability, y’know? But you’re hot, and you’re not supposed to be here either, so I figured it’s alright. Hang on, I gotta go to the bathroom.”

When you returned, PL was unfortunately now wearing his boxer shorts again, but he was still on your bed, so you took that as a win.

“What do you mean, I’m not supposed to be here either?” he asked curiously.

You froze in the middle of climbing underneath the blanket. Oh, damn. You hadn’t meant to say that.

Your hand flew to your scar instinctively, and you sighed.

“I didn’t shoot myself,” you admitted. “I said I did it myself to cover for the person who did.” You looked up at him urgently. “Don’t tell anyone, please. I don’t want him to go to prison.”

“Him?”

“Not the kind of him you’re thinking. We’re related, let’s leave it at that.”

PL glanced away, his eyes looking distant for a brief moment, then he shook his head as if to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

“I should be ready to go again in about ten minutes if you like,” he suggested. “Since you’re so determined to set the speed, maybe you can take charge this time.”

“Are you asking me to ride you, PL?” you asked flirtatiously. “You are a naughty one, aren’t you?”

“Santa’s definitely bringing me coal for my stocking this year.”

You laughed. “Alright. You know, I think we’re going to have a lot of fun here.”

#rickmas2023 #alan rickman #pl o’hara #an awfully big adventure #pl x reader

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cbrownjc · 1 year

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Theory: Lestat is asleep in the Dubai Penthouse.

So I want to put this theory out before EP7 airs. I am nowhere close to 100% about it (barely even 50%), but I want to post it just in case I’m correct.

Since EP5, my belief has been that the 2022 part of the story takes place “during” Merrick. It doesn’t match Merrick 1-to-1, of course. But there are significant story points that match, particularly when it comes to Claudia’s diaries playing a significant role in the story and Louis attempting to end his un-life.

And where was Lestat during Merrick? Asleep. Basically, in a coma. A coma he’d been in since right after book 5, Memnoch the Devil.

In the books, Lestat went through basically three comas in his vampire life. (That I know of/remember. I don’t know if he goes through one in the Prince Lestat trilogy yet, since I just started it.) And I think the show has taken two of those comas and made them into one: the pre-Vampire Lestat coma and the post-Memnoch coma.

This works because the timeline for everything in the show is shorter than it was in the books because of the aging up of Lestat before the events of Interview with the Vampire happen. (He’s 150 in vampire years in the show instead of just 10 as in the book.) During the time period the show is at by EP6, the middle to the end of the 1930s, Lestat was at the start of his second coma sleep in the books.

And we already know from Claudia’s diaries in EP4 that she and Louis don’t get to Paris until 1945, after WWII is over and Paris was already liberated.

That second coma sleep of Lestat’s lasted 55 years. And, gee, how long has it been since Louis gave that first interview to Daniel in 1973? 49 years now. 50 years exactly when S2 starts (assuming S2 comes out at the end of 2023.)

My theory? Lestat went to sleep sometime in 1967 or 1968. (Which, US history-wise, 1968 was a hell of a year. In the books, he went to sleep in 1929, the year of the Crash and the start of the Great Depression. Which was a fitting parallel.)

If it was 1967, that would make it exactly 55 years since he was asleep by 2022, which is the year the show takes place in right now.

Now, I couldn’t guess where Lestat might have started his over half a century of sleep. But I do think, at some point, his body was moved. And the place it was moved to was Dubai. Into the penthouse where Louis is living and now giving his do-over interview with Daniel.

And Louis is now watching over him, as he was in Merrick when Lestat was in his post-Memnoch coma. I believe that part of Louis’ resting in EP4 was him also spending time with Lestat’s sleeping body, reading to him and such, as he did with Lestat's sleeping body in Merrick.

So, if this theory is correct, one of the final shots of EP7 will be the reveal of Lestat being asleep in another room in the Dubai penthouse.

Rashid said Louis’ book isn’t just a warning to humanity but a lengthy suicide note. And I think it is a suicide note specifically for Lestat, for whenever Louis hopes Lestat wakes up.

Just like the suicide note Louis left for the sleeping Lestat in Merrick.

#Lestat de Lioncourt #Louis de Pointe du Lac #Loustat #Interview with the Vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #yes this theory means Lestat slept though the 1980s #meaning he didn't do the rock star thing #not the 80s rock star thing at any rate #though he did at some point re-record that Come To Me song #the audio quality wasn't great #meaning I don't think it was recorded at anytime in the 21st centrury #it was just transferred to digital IMO #I think Lestat might have re-recorded it in the 1950s maybe the early 1960s #that's just my theory for now though #I'm prepared to have this theory shot to hell after EP7 #Merrick

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take-it-on-the-run · 1 month

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Bridge Over Troubled Water

Dean Winchester & Reaper!Reader

Dean Winchester didn't want to know what life was going to be like without his brother, and he didn't intend to learn

Word Count: 2.5k

Tags: Suicide attempt, angst, major character death, minor injury, typical cannon violence, angst with a happy ending

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reaper!Reader

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Simon & Garfunkel title. This has been stewing in my drafts since August, so I'm very happy I was able to finally finish it! This is set around season 5 (Dean is 30 and Sam is 26). PLEASE heed the warnings, and please don't read further if this story will make you uncomfortable. Unbeta'd and every single mistake is mine :)

Rain clung to a man as he peered over the rails of a bridge he couldn’t name. It was big enough to have a name, he was sure of that, but not big enough for people to be driving by at three in the morning.

His hands wrapped around the steel beams meant to keep cars from tipping over into the rushing waters below. They were cold to the touch, but he didn’t feel that. He could barely place one foot in front of the other, let alone feel anything besides the hollowed-out hole in his chest.

His car was parked just off the side of the road less than half a mile away, keys still in the ignition, lights blaring onto the tree trunks that ran on for as far as the eye could see. There was no one for miles, the only souls accompanying him in those moments being those of the rodents scattering into crooks and crannies to hide from the rain.

A heavy weight shifted in his pocket, nudging against his thigh, reminding him why he was standing alone in the rain. He couldn’t comprehend that in the morning, people would come looking for him, that he would be missed; that he would be mourned. He only knew the pain that was engulfing his very being, pushing him closer and closer to life’s edge.

He wanted to compare it to Hell, but he knew that in Hell he’d at least pay for what he’d done in the form of flames and pure, unimaginable agony, like he’d experienced all those years ago. Here, he could only wallow in the fact that he was alive, and the only person he’d give his life for wasn’t.

The first time he tried to pitch himself over the rails, his foot slipped and his head collided with the metal. Blood trickled down his forehead as he remained on the ground. Any other time, he’d be able to climb anything, anywhere; but now all he could hear was the sound of the river below calling for him.

Join me. It said, beckoning him to his feet once again.

Though he couldn’t see me, I was there watching him as he tried to will himself to take his own life. Standing a mere ten feet from him, leaning on the opposing set of rails, I watched as he clambered upright. In complete honesty, I didn’t know if he’d do it or not. I did, however, know that he wasn’t meant to be there. He was meant to pass in a horrible accident three weeks before at his own hands, leaving his brother the only survivor. His name was in my book, and I was meant to take him to the great hereafter, only to find him standing over his brother’s body.

The man didn’t know it, but his brother was there too, watching him on that bridge. He tried to get his brother to hear his pleas, but he couldn’t, so he turned to me.

He begged me and begged me to not let his brother take his life. This had happened many times since I started my life’s work, people trying to offer me their souls in place of a loved one’s, but my duties remained as they were. I’m a pathway to the afterlife. No more, no less. Never once had I prevented someone from dying, never once had someone slipped between my fingers, and never once had I stuck myself in Earthly affairs.

I leaned into the rails silently, letting the rain fall onto my bare skin. I could imagine how cold it was for him, shivering and bleeding as his world seemed to crumble.

His brother clung to my side, clawing and tearing at my skin as he wailed for me to let his brother live, that his soul should be enough for me to have.

I turned to him and looked into his widened eyes, and all I could do was wonder. Wonder why such a young man was content in his own death, and why he didn’t want his brother to die as he did.

“You Winchesters and your family bond. You know Samuel, there aren’t many people out there who aren’t pissed at the person who killed them.” I said as I acknowledged the youngest Winchester for the first time since he started our conversation.

“He didn’t-” Sam looked to his older brother, still oblivious to my presence, “-my death wasn’t his fault. You got your soul, now you can report back to your big boss and just leave Dean alone, please.”

I turned to him, ready to tell him that my kind didn’t deal in souls, but was interrupted when the click of a handgun made Sam and I turn our heads.

“Are you my reaper?” He asked, matter-of-factually, poorly aiming his pistol in my general direction. I took a step toward him, the rain beginning to fall more violently.

“We both know you’re smart enough than to try and use that on me, Dean,” I said, ignoring his question as I took more steps toward him.

“Answer-” Dean readjusted his slipping grip on the gun, eyes wearily trained at me. “-answer me.”

“I was your reaper, yes,” I answered, closing the distance between us, cool metal pressed against my chest.

His eyes were green and sunken; packed with tears, veins, and blood. His pupils darted around my face expectantly, begging me to do something, make his pain simply go away.

I felt a heavy pang in my chest, that hooked onto my heart and sunk to my feet.

I reached up to his face, gently cupping as I skimmed my fingers over untrimmed facial hair. He flinched as my hand made contact, probably expecting to get ripped from his body.

“Don’t be afraid, Dean. He’s safe.” I said gently. His eyes closed, and he leaned into my palm as he let out a heavy breath.

“He isn’t angry at you. You know, he practically begged me to come stop you.” I smiled, smoothing over the gash on his forehead. The deep cut disappeared as my fingers skimmed over it, offering him some relief.

“It’s not fair-” Dean choked out, coughing as the weather around us began to take its toll on his body. “-Sammy, he’s got a whole life ahead of him. College, a big lawyer job, a normal life. All I’ve got is hunting, and waiting to run into someone sharp enough to finally get me.”

His teeth chattered in his mouth, and the metal against my chest disappeared as he let his arms drop to his sides.

“Big talk coming from someone who’s barely thirty,” I said, watching as Dean pulled away from my hands, and returned to leaning on the rails.

“It’s the-” Dean starts.

“-the life, yes. So I’ve heard from a great number of hunters.” I finished his thought as I joined him on the rails. “Why is it that all of you think your lifespans are so short? Hunters back In, I don’t know,” I wave my hand as I’m trying to come up with the words, “the seventeen hundreds still lived longer than a lot your folk do nowadays.”

He creased his eyebrows, his eyes flickering over my face.

“All I’m saying,” I take a long look at the sun starting to crawl its way over the horizon, “is that ‘the life’ doesn’t have to be your life, Dean. I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but you don’t have to die in some horrific fight that finally puts you down. Hunters have died of old age, you know.”

He looked at me, the freckles on his face more visible now that the rain was calming down, “but Sammy… he deserved his happy ending more than I ever will. He got out. Got a full-ride scholarship to freakin’ Stanford. Had a girl. I didn’t even have the guts to tell him how proud I was. I’d stand outside his dorm room for hours, trying to figure out a way to come see him without Dad, or without him hating me. I shouldn’t have dragged him back into this, and now he’s dead. In my place.”

“It’s the natural order of things, Dean. If not him, then you, and if not you, then some other person had to die that day.”

“But it didn’t have to be Sam. I would’ve gone just the same way as he did, but at least he’d have something dragging him forward, to move on.” He looked at me again with those tired eyes, letting out a sharp breath as his hands clung to the railing again, leaning his torso off halfway.

“Dean,” I said cautiously, watching his knuckles turn white as his heart quickened and eyes shut, “Dean.”

His feet were moving fast, and in one swift moment, he was off the bridge. His body flung over almost effortlessly and catapulted him down to the rocky waters below.

I turned away, expecting him to appear next to me in a moment, but his voice rose through the air instead.

“What…?”

I looked over the railing, only to see Sam was holding his forearms, holding him from his forearms before he could drop.

I turned to the younger Winchester brother, who was solely focused on trying to save his brother’s life, his spectral hands losing their grip the longer he held on.

“Dean, hold on, please. Please, man, just hold on. Don’t give up on me.”

Dean’s head snapped up, looking straight at his brother.

“Sammy?” Dean choked out, his legs starting to kick frantically as if he were trying to walk on air.

“Help me, help me get him up. Please.” Sam turned to me, struggling to hold onto his brother.

I blinked and I was beside him, yanking up on an almost-limp Dean, and throwing him onto the road of the bridge.

Dean lay on the ground, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. Sam knelt beside him, his eyes filled with remorse.

“I didn’t want to give up on you, Sammy,” Dean whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the damp morning breeze.

Sam’s heart clenched at the sound of his brother’s voice, filled with a mixture of pain and regret. “I know, Dean,” he replied, his voice choked with emotion. “It’s not your fault. You never gave up on me. You took all of dad’s crap, and I mean all of it. The yelling. The hunting. The abuse.”

Dean looked at his brother before he went still, not saying a word as he clutched his chest with pale blue hands. His breaths grew shallower, his body beginning to tremble from the exertion and the cold rain that drenched him throughout the night. Sam glanced around frantically, feeling helpless in the face of his brother’s suffering.

“He needs help. Help him,” Sam said, his voice urgent as he looked up at me, desperation clear in his eyes.

I nodded, my heart heavy with the weight of the situation. “I’ll do what I can,” I replied, my voice solemn. “But I can’t interfere with the natural order of things.”

Sam’s shoulders sagged in defeat, but he refused to give up. “There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please, just help him.”

I hesitated, the pull that the Winchester seemed to have with the universe was something even Death couldn’t withstand; but who was I to interfere? As I looked down at Dean, lying battered and broken on the ground, I could hear the cracking of his ribs drowning out my thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, I knelt beside Sam and Dean, moving Dean’s hands away from his chest with little force. “I’ll do what I can,” I said, my voice softer.

I laid my hands on Dean’s chest, warmth spread through his body, chasing away the chill of the rain and easing his pain. His breaths grew steadier, his trembling subsiding as color started returning to his hands.

Sam looked on in awe, tears welling in his eyes as he watched his brother’s condition improve before his very eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.

I nodded, a small smile touching my lips. “Take care of him,” Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper, and I nodded. “He’s gotta lot of fight left in him, and someone has to keep him up and running.”

I chuckled, moving to the side of Sam as I waited for him to pull away from Dean. The two of them sat there in perfect silence, staring into the blankness in front of them. I could barely hear Dean’s breath through the wind that curved between the air around us.

“I have to go, Dean,” Sam said, turning to face them as they both sat on the edge of the empty road.

“I can’t do this without you Sammy, I don’t want to,” Dean said, catching stray tears with the back of his hand. He took his brother into a firm hug; it was as if he was holding him to Earth, and to life itself.

“I love you so much,” Sam said as he rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, Dean taking in a shuddered breath. Sam slowly pulled away from him, and stood beside me, trying his best to smile, “bye, Dean.”

Dean looked up at his brother, nose red and raw from the tears that coated his face, hiccuping as he failed to drown his emotions with a weak smile, not saying a word. He scooted away from the road, sitting himself up against the rails as he watched me and Sam walk down the bridge, and out of view.

I can’t say that I forgot that day, especially when I was called again for Dean. He lay on a hospital bed, his once dirty blonde hair replaced with silver tufts, complemented by wrinkles brought on from years of stories to tell, and different kinds of scars in new places.

He looked just as he did that day on the bridge when he came to stand by me, watching the woman beside him, hair just as gray as his, holding onto his hand. An anti-possession tattoo peaked out from under her long sleeve as she reached over to plant a kiss on his forehead, watching as his heart monitor ran flat. After a few moments of silence, nurses came into the room, looking over Dean’s body as the woman shuffled out of the room and walked through Dean and me with a shudder.

“Hello, Dean,” I said, smiling gently, preparing to lead him out of the room when there was a laugh from behind us. Two hands were placed firmly around Dean before I could realize who it was.

“You ready? We’ve got a lot to catch up on, you know.” Sam said as he pulled away from his brother, the both of them smiling like I’d never seen before.

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lambcow · 3 months

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My Plan for the Upcoming Twilight TV Show so that it's actually Good

I heard recently that they're doing a Twilight TV show. The rights are out there at the very least. Who knows when it will happen and what network will produce it where, but it's going to happen.

But here's my thing - they're going to do it wrong if they do it the way I think they will, which is anything like the timeline of the Books/Movies. As a hardcore Twilight fan (yes I'll admit it, I spent a long time in fandom as a preteen, okay? It was my first online fandom and the first fanfiction that I wrote) I have Opinions(TM) about how to make the show in a way that would make it interesting. Stephanie Meyer had interesting ideas and I stand by this! There's a lot of untapped potential in the series and I think if they did it right it could be a really, really cool show! But there's not much going on if we just rehash the same events of the books over again at an episodic level.

No.

I present to you, not the TV show "Twilight", but the TV show "Cullens", which starts off with Carlisle Cullen as he has come to America when he finally starts to build his Coven.

This is NOT the story of whiny Bella Swan and her falling in love with Edward and becoming a vampire over 4 books or 5 movies, but rather the story of a man who has already spent over two centuries as a vampire, struggling because of his love for humanity as he finds purpose and meaning as he builds his family. We follow his story as he collects his coven.

We truly open on the show when Carlisle finds Edward dying of Spanish Influenza and decides to turn him for humanity's sake because he would die and because he as a man is lonely and this boy is so young, only 17, and Edward's mother begs him to do whatever he can to save her son and who knows, maybe Carlisle's been watching him and he sees him like a son already too. Maybe we get flashbacks to Carlisle with the Volturi for those 20 years he stayed with them in Italy back in the early 1700s, who knows. The fact of the matter is, that Carlisle is a doctor at the hospital where Edward is, and for whatever reason that we as an audience are compelled to understand in this first and important episode is Carlisle is finally done being alone and craves family and Edward resembles that for whatever reason, so Carlisle gives in and turns him. The next several episodes are an arc about their relationship as we deal with newborn Edward. We know how hard it is to adjust to being newly turned. After he calms down, Edward then has to confront his mortality and that of his family, we see him start to remember his family and confront those memories. More flashbacks to the Volturi as Carlisle explains what being a vampire is to Edward etc.

We follow the pair then as they travel around with the cover story that Edward is Carlisle's nephew. It's three years later when Esme enters the picture. What we know already is she attempted suicide and Carlisle turned her to save her - and that they have history since Carlisle treated her for a broken leg some ten years prior when she was 16 years old. Fast forward to now and she's gone through an abusive marriage where she ran away from her husband several times, most recently after getting pregnant, and has just lost her baby due to a lung fever. At her wit's end with all of it, Carlisle finds her after she jumps off a cliff attempting to end her life. They end up falling in love and getting married after she is turned. That's several episodes I'm sure. GREAT ARC. But Esme struggles with blood lust, which is a great transition into the conversation for what happens just a few years later with Edward...

We can tie more vampire politics into the show (especially the Volturi into it) when Edward goes through his Ripper phase when he decides he doesn't want to drink animal blood like Carlisle teaches him. The two fight but what can Carlisle do? Maybe there are other vamps around as well to cause extra drama. Who knows? It is a TV show, after all. He goes off on his own and that's a whole plot. I'm sure the network could find some interesting ways to make this dramatic for a few episodes and keep enough plot points alive. Add in some new OC's and side characters. Remember the Denali clan? When do they start being formed? There's not a lot of context on them, just that they're close with The Cullen's. Maybe we get some of their story and interaction here. Maybe Sasha (the original leader who was killed by the Volturi for creating an immortal child) reaches out to Carlisle at some point near the beginning and this is when they all become vegetarian vampires together before the whole Denali clan is formed too.

Fast forward to when that arc is resolved. Edward is back with Carlisle and Esme and the peace is back. Now, we get Rosalie... Now, the thing with Carlisle, is he doesn't turn people just to turn people. He's very moralistic. We learn that all the time about his character. I'm sure our little trio has traveled on from Chicago and is in New York where they encounter Rosalie Hale who was assaulted nearly to death by her husband and all his buddies. Carlisle is somewhat of a matchmaker here and hopes Rosalie and Edward can keep each other company for their immortal lives... it makes me wonder what episode and background we can throw into the show here. Did Carlisle know this girl in any other capacity? Why are his dad senses tingling about Rosalie anyway? That's gotta be an arc.

Anyway, turns out Rosalie is not only not interested in Edward, but she's only really interested in staying with the Cullens because being alone forever would get lonely, so she stays with them... but that's after her revenge arc because Rosalie Hale is a certified Bad Ass. She goes after her Fiance and all his Dude Bros and takes them all out, and I can just imagine her executing this flawlessly as a vamp. I do wonder if Edward reads her mind about her plans and asks if he can help her, though. Eventually, she gives in and it's Sibling Bonding(TM) at its finest. It's this bonding that convinces Rosalie to stay with the Cullens after all, and that's that.

Next, we get Emmett. Now, this is a fun one! Because we get Emmett who starts pining over the gorgeous Rosalie Hale when they move to this new place. I'm not sure it says where they are, but I digress. Do we have a bit of the Bella/Edward vibes here? Are there warnings of "don't let the human close"? Is this around the time when we've just had the Denali arc and are reminded of the human child being killed? Is Carlisle having flashbacks? What is the drama? Make it interesting, TV people! Is Edward mad that Rosalie is flirting back? Is it harmless? Who. Knows. -- But then, it doesn't matter because Emmett is getting mauled by a bear in the woods and... wait, why is Rosalie even there? Why does she even find him? Hmmm, seems like she's following him around protectively ;) well- whatever the reason and drama, Emmett is near dead and she saves him and brings him to Carlisle to be turned. The reactions of the coven... the reactions of the town, of his family, of his friends, the drama. Make it interesting, once again, people! This is TV gold! It's cliches and everything you want for TV, c'mon! And then, of course, since they were already practically in love already, they really can be together, but now they have to leave because Emmett is supposedly dead and the Cullens are complicit in that for some reason too perhaps. So they get out of dodge and where do they go now?

If you guessed Forks, Washington, you're right. It's the first time and it's time to get into the legends and deal with The Wolves(TM). It's all about the Quiluetes and it's time to make a treaty with The Pack(TM). Ephraim Black is Jacob's great-grandfather and the leader of the tribe. Whoooa boy. I can think of sooooo much they can do with this,. And just how long do the Cullens stay in Forks the first time around? It's a whole arc. Maybe it's a season. We get some good wolf content. We get some pack dynamics. It's great. We get some beef between Rosalie and the wolves maybe, because there's obvious dislike between her and the wolves later and it's gotta be for a reason more than just their smell, I know it. So, several episodes there. Maybe even some fighting. I know it ends with a treaty, but that's not easily won. Maybe it's Rosalie they found first and one of the wolves attacked her before they were able to make talks for peace. Yeah. I can see this season being really fun.

So, after all that goes down, maybe there's something with the Volturi? Something with the Denali? They do end up staying with the Denali Coven for a time. Maybe they go somewhere else for a little while after they've overstayed their welcome in Forks. Sometime around the 1940s they leave. During the 1950s Jasper and Alice wander upon them and at this point, I fully believe we would get a several-episode arc of Jasper's origin story with the Civil War and the Newborn Army - but they've gotta make it interesting somehow, so there's gotta be a parallel conflict in the timeline that makes it relevant, like I keep saying, make it interesting. Who knows where the Cullens are living right now at this point, but there's crazy everywhere and they're vampires they're practically magnates for danger and chaos. Make something up. Family drama, vampire drama, whatever you need. Where are more of those OCs. And don't forget! We have all the covens and vampires from the battle in Breaking Dawn that we can draw on at ANY point in the show for extra vampires to make any of this interesting as well! Make. It. Make. Sense. How does Carlisle know everyone all the time??? Add spice, add interest, and make the Cullens well-connected in a way that makes sense!

Once we get through Jasper's origin story, we get how he and Alice met, which of course is that Alice saw him in a vision. Alice is such a fun character.

And what do they do in the interim 60 years until Bella? Um, not really sure, but we can find some filler or we can time skip. Not like we haven't been doing that anyway. I also have this vague idea that the whole first few seasons are vaguely a la How I Met Your Mother where they're always telling the story to Bella or Renesmee or someone anyway -- oooh telling the story to Ren would be cute actually... that has potential. Grandpa Cullen telling his granddaughter about how all the family got together. That's adorable, whether you like Renesmee as a character or not. Tell me I'm wrong... Anyway, so then maybe it's like, "So what about mom?" or something and we jump to the actual plot of the Twilight books.

But we don't just get the Twilight books, we get the full in-depth. We get the shifters in La Push full with Emily and Sam and Quil, Embry and Jake, and Paul and all the bois, we get the whole story from Bree Tanner on the side as that develops. We get random check-ins with the Denali clan, because that's relevant! We get Edward's perspective on things as well when he meets Bella and how he runs away to the Denali clan because he's dead lusting for her blood! We get complex feelings and all the arguments about it! We get Rosalie and Edward fighting because isn't she being hypocritical about Bella?

We get the Volturi and more drama from the throne room as they learn about the Cullens and their drama just like we have been following Volturi drama on and off all series long. We know the personalities of Caius and Marcus and their dynamic with Aro. We've already heard the origin story of Jane and Alec and we know how brutal the terror twins are. We get the Volturi women Sulpicia, Athenedora, Chelsea, Heidi, and Renata. Don't even get me started on Demitri and Felix and my headcanon of their epic friendship. So, yeah, Volturi stuff.

All of it comes to a head at the final battle in Breaking Dawn just like we know but with so much more meaning than ever before because of the rich history we have from seasons upon seasons of "The Cullens" or "Cullen" or whatever you end up calling this show. It's amazing, it's beautiful, we've laughed, we've cried, we've become a family over and over again and Carlisle has a family and this is his family and he is happy.

Will they make it like this? Probably freaking not, but this is my one request to the universe. Don't make a "Twilight" TV show. Make a "Cullen" TV show.

Please.

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timotey · 3 months

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Ficlet: Hollow Victories

The Sign. Phaya/Tharn. Future fic. TW: attempted suicide. Unbeta'd.

I can obliterate any outside force that could take him away from me but I can’t fight this.

(All the angst is making the bunnies breed, yay! Breed bunnies, breed!)

*.*.*

The gate closes. The human world disappears. Now, there’s nothing but the Naga realm.

They can never go back, neither of them. Chalothon told him so. Tharn doesn’t trust him, not anymore, but in this case, he doesn’t have a choice. His mind is made.

Chalothon won’t get what he wants.

“What’s that for?” Chalothon asks, his voice so mocking, so full of derision when Tharn pulls a knife out of his ankle holster. “Are you planning to kill me with it?”

It’s a combat knife, very sharp, meant for killing. It fits well into Tharn’s hand, its weight familiar, comforting almost.

Tharn looks at Chalothon. He tries to find in him the man he’s loved as a friend, as a big brother for years. But that man never existed, did he? And yet…

Shaking his head, Tharn says softly, “Kill you? No. I couldn’t do that. Not even now.”

“Then what–?”

Chalothon doesn’t get to finish his question.

Tharn slashes his own throat.

***

Phaya sits on the steps of Tharn’s grandmother’s house, staring down at the terrace from where Tharn was taken from him. He just sits there and stares, hours upon hours. The others know not to disturb him by now.

It’s twilight. First stars are coming alive in the darkening sky above his head. It’s been three days since Tharn disappeared.

Phaya promised to protect Tharn from Chalothon and he failed. Somehow, somewhere, at some point that bastard got to Tharn and convinced him that leaving with him was the only option Tharn had left. Phaya has a very good idea how he managed that (you are safe now). Tharn’s been telling him the whole time (you are the one i love i will never forget you thank you so much for staying by my side) but he didn’t listen. He heard but he just didn’t listen.

And now Tharn’s gone. Forever. And there’s a big hole inside Phaya where Tharn used to be, a big black hole that’s swallowing up everything, even the breath that he draws into his lungs. It’s all ruins, devoid of life.

Suddenly, there’s a shimmer, magic black and green but also gold, the golden warmth Phaya’s so familiar with. Is it possible–?

There, on the terrace, Chalothon, kneeling down. And in his arms, unmoving… Tharn.

With a whispered “Tharn” on his lips, Phaya jumps to his feet and runs down the stairs before the last shimmer of magic disappears. In a second, he’s there, falling to his knees next to Tharn, his eyes only for Tharn, not even really aware of the Naga king.

Because Tharn’s here but he’s still - too still! - and pale - too pale! - and he seems drenched in blood, some of it still fresh, some already tacky or stiff. It’s on his face and on his throat and on his hands, his t-shirt is soaked with it. He’s resting in Chalothon’s arms, head tilted slightly backwards, eyes closed.

“Tharn… Tharn!” Phaya calls out softly, scared, terrified, reaching out but afraid to touch.

Because Tharn looks dead. And if Phaya touches him, if he does that… it might turn out to be true.

“He will live,” Chalothon says in an oddly hoarse voice.

Phaya snaps his eyes up, seized with fury. He wants to hit the bastard. He wants to tear him to pieces, kill him, destroy him once and for all.

But Chalothon isn’t paying him any mind. He’s looking down at Tharn, touching his face gently. His eyes are stricken. “He cut his own throat,” he says lifelessly.

Phaya’s breath seizes in his lungs, his chest constricts. His eyes widen and he looks down at Tharn. He looks at his throat. There’s no gaping wound there, just crimson, crimson everywhere.

But… there, a faint line of a scar. How deep the wound must’ve been if even the Naga’s healing powers couldn’t erase it fully?

Tharn…

“He waited until the gate closed - I told him that once it closed there would be no way back for us and he must've believed me, after everything, he still must've believed my words,“ Chalothon continues. “I guess he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t come back here and take revenge for him leaving me…”

Phaya’s mind is blank. It’s all white noise. He thought Tharn lost to him but he never thought... it never once crossed his mind that he could, that he would do something like this, that he would take his own life.

Slowly, Chalothon moves. He lifts Tharn’s body and… hands it over to Phaya. He’s very gentle, almost reverent. So unlike him, Phaya thinks.

But it’s just a fleeting thought. Then all Phaya can think about is Tharn. All he feels is Tharn. Limp and heavy and alive in his arms. He pulls Tharn close, against his own chest, wrapping his arms around him tight, curling up around him, as if trying to hide him from the world, from Chalothon, from anything that could do him harm.

“Tharn…” Phaya whispers, kissing Tharn’s forehead, stroking his hair, hugging him tight, breathing him in, feeling his warmth.

Chalothon reaches out - Phaya almost flinches away with Tharn, he almost growls - and touches Tharn’s face lightly one last time. Then he gets up and turns away. To leave…

And Phaya doesn’t want anything more than that, he wants the bastard gone forever, as far from Tharn as possible, he never wants to see him again. But… he needs to know.

“Why?” Phaya asks, looking up at Chalothon.

The Naga doesn’t turn back. “Because I can destroy you, I can obliterate any outside force that could take him away from me… But I can’t fight this. He would rather be dead than with me. You can’t stop someone who resolved himself to die. I could stop him once, twice, a dozen times. But in the end, he would succeed. What a hollow victory that would be…”

Phaya looks down at Tharn, nestled in his arms. His eyes are closed, his lips parted a little. He’s still unconscious, unaware of the world around him. And with a little pang of fear Phaya wonders if Tharn will ever wake up, if he’ll ever want to wake up, not knowing he’s back in Phaya’s arms.

He wants to ask about that, if/when Tharn will come back - but when he looks up, Chalothon is gone. It’s just Phaya and Tharn in the thickening darkness of the coming night. Everything is quiet and still.

And so he strokes Tharn’s face and kisses his forehead and whispers to him, pleading in a soft voice, “Wake up, Tharn. You are home, I’m here, you just-you just have to wake up. Please…”

Tharn doesn't stir but that's okay, Phaya can wait. Now that Tharn is back in his arms, safe, he can wait as long as Tharn needs him to.

#the sign #the sign the series #my fics #my the sign fics #mé

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eternal-echoes · 5 months

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A Florida woman who medically transitioned from female to male as a 14-year-old is suing the American Academy of Pediatrics — alleging she was whisked through the process as a minor by “a collection of actors who prioritized politics and ideology over children’s safety, health, and well-being.” Isabelle Ayala, now 20, is also suing her doctors in Rhode Island in a first of its kind case, filed in Providence/Bristol County Superior Court. “I just really don’t want this to happen to other vulnerable young girls,” Ayala, who lives in Wellington, Florida, told The Post. “I don’t want puberty to be the enemy. I don’t want our natural biology to be the enemy.” ... Ayala says she was sexually assaulted as a child and began precocious puberty at age 8 — both experiences she says made her resent her femininity and believe she was better off male. “I decided to transition because of just a series of unfortunate things that I had tied to being female. And those things made me hate being female,” Ayala said. At 11, she found solace in the transgender activist community on Tumblr, and thought, “This is going to fix me.” She learned from trans activists that fabricating suicidal ideation is a surefire way to get a testosterone prescription quickly. So, at age 14 she did just that: “I learned that from the internet that… I had to convince [my doctors and family] that if they don’t affirm me, I’m gonna kill myself.” Ayala said she was referred to a gender clinic and diagnosed with gender dysphoria by transgender health expert Dr. Jason Rafferty. According to the lawsuit, he determined she “would benefit from being put on cross-sex hormones” in a single visit that lasted less than an hour. ... Ayala alleges that her previous diagnoses of autism, ADHD and PTSD were largely overlooked by her healthcare providers. The lawsuit claims her doctors “falsely represented that cross-sex hormone therapy was the only treatment option available to Isabelle to effectively treat her gender dysphoria, as well as her anxiety, depression, PTSD and suicidality.” Less than a year into treatment, Ayala said, she actually did attempt suicide. “She was a guinea pig under one of the top experts in this field of so-called gender medicine,” Bolar said. “She was hitting rock bottom, and he continued to put her down this experimental path of medicine.” By age 17, in 2020, Ayala felt the urge to begin presenting femininely again. A YouTuber who had detransitioned inspired her to identify as a woman again — and she soon realized her transition had been a massive mistake. Three years on, according to the lawsuit, she still struggles with unwanted body hair, vaginal atrophy and an altered bone structure from the testosterone. “She has since contracted Hashimotos’s disease, an autoimmune disease that only the males in her family have a history of, from taking testosterone,” the suit claims.

The emphasis is mine.

#transgenderism #transgender ideology #gender ideology #ftm #puberty blockers #hormone replacement therapy #cross-sex hormones

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lovergirl-78 · 8 months

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REDEMPTION

Rick Grimes x Dalia Thompson(oc)

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

AN:This is a test run. Seeing if you goes like this version if not just tell me please I would really like your feedback. Bare with me this is my first fanfic.

Warnings: mention of death, apocalypse,suicide, depression

659 words.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

The night was still; the beeping from the monitors and chittering from the people were still, yet Dalia seemed unmoved. Imagining what could be wrong with the world, her family and friends are all dead, while she remains untouched by the atrocities right outside the building. You see, Dalia often imagined that if she just opened that door and got eaten alive by the dead, just like her family, she would be free from the guilt of leaving them to die.

Dalia... DALIA!" a voice exclaimed, breaking Dalia from her zoned-out state.

Huh," Dalia responded.

"Did you not hear anything I just said?” Candace questioned.

"Is it about the cells?

"Honey, I know it’s hard right now, but you’ve got to understand that I’m here for you. Everyone lost something, and you staying alive is something your family would want.

Candace Jenner was a mother figure or a mentor figure for many, especially Dalia, who is fresh out of college. It’s been hard on everyone here at the CDC with the minimal scientists that remained. Some scientists decided to stay; some left to be with their families, while others decided to opt out of this nightmare. Dalia didn’t blame them; if she could, she would have too.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Vi, start recording!" Dalia yelled.

"Starting recording in three, two, and one," Vi replied.

"Well, here we go. Hi, my name is Dalia Thompson. I am currently twenty years old and a scientist at the CDC. Ummm.. I honestly don’t know why I did this, but Candace mentioned it’s good to keep a video diary to document or rant. Dalia sighed while taking a deep breath.

"It started on April tenth, two thousand and ten... I woke up with a crazy hangover from partying the night away with my friends Savannah and Mindy. I was tired as hell. I checked my phone, and I saw a barrage of messages from my parents angry about me missing Susie's seventh birthday. I really didn’t understand why they were so upset. There isn’t anything a seven-year-old and a twenty-year-old have in common. I digress. I worked at the CDC as a public health analyst, which is an entry-level job. When I entered work that day, Candace Jenner, who leads the CDC, reported about a strange virus that was found in France that changed people into empty, cannibalistic versions of themselves. We needed to research the effects immediately, but I guess it was too late.

It started small and manageable, and the government told us they had it under control. They sent out nationwide messages about the dangers of going outside and staying safe. Scientists and researchers were told to keep looking. Many hurried to leave to be with their families, and some decided to opt out. Since then, we've gotten rid of the bodies and placed ourselves in lockdown. No one can come in. Many came in hopes of food, shelter, and protection, but we couldn’t break protocol; we had to keep the doors shut. A family came by a couple days ago pleading for help, but we couldn't, and I watched as they got torn apart by the dead. Dalia takes a long pause. Her eyes tearing up and lips crumbling together at her meager attempt to hold in a cry.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Later that day,

Candace, Edwin Jenner, and I walked into the test room, which holds one of their dead colleagues. They needed a sample of the colleagues' DNA. Dalia offered to do it, but Candace said she would. They took an ample amount of safety precautions to prevent any way for them to get hit or scratched by the disgusting piece of sh*t.

Candace went in a full hazmat suit, looking like a marshmallow, which made Dalia laugh her ass off. But as Candace was turning away from collecting the DNA, all of a sudden it came back to life.

"WAIT!" Dalia screamed.

TBD..

#carl grimes #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #shane walsh #the walking dead x reader #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #daryl dixon #lori grimes #dale twd #dale horvath

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drivemysoul · 4 months

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it's new years eve, and i am not okay (i promise)

this year has been extremely difficult for me. that's putting it lightly. this year has also gotten me closer than ever to lifelong dreams. that's downplaying it.

this year has been absolutely tumultuous, with some of the highest highs and lowest lows of my life. i broke up, broke free, broke through, and broke down this year. i lost people, i lost myself, i made new connections, and came into my own in a way that i could only have anticipated in my most far-fetched, wildest daydreams.

this year has been my most rocky, insurmountable experience since march 2021 (iykyk) - i'm very grateful i'm here.

i'd like a moment to please rewind to the moments that defined my year, to put you there with me in a way that i wish you could have been. these private moments, lived offline, that i found comfort in without outside validation.

i'm standing in a crowd at a my chemical romance concert, screaming until i thought my throat would bleed with a crowd of strangers, "i am not afraid to keep on living." and i'd made it. i turn to my friend, the girl who raped me the month before, the one that would lead me to a suicide attempt later in the year, and i earnestly tell her "i'm so glad i survived." this is a moment i've never even allowed myself to dream of, thinking it was impossible, but there i was, and there they were, and i wasn't afraid to keep on living. i had no idea what would happen next, but for that small moment, everything and nothing made sense in the most comforting, exhilarating way.

i'm laying in the bathtub at one in the morning, crying while my mother sits next to the bath with her back to me. i'm dizzy, nauseous, violently sobbing, and begging for her to kill me. i'm having another bad moment of some mystery illness that i've still not got an official diagnosis for, and i'm having a ptsd attack on top of that. my mother asks me if i had sex with the friend i went to the concert with. i swallow my pride, silently apologise to her, and tell her that she had sex with me while i was asleep. i'm still too ashamed to call it rape. that night, i sleep in my mother's bed, because she's been in mine and it feels suffocating, and she buys me a pregnancy test the next day.

i'm lying face-down, my fading denim shorts pulled just under my ass cheek, sweat dripping down my forehead, trying to distract myself from the intense ache in my arm and anxiously anticipating the next round of pain as a heavily-tattooed man lies that it's not going to hurt, and then a needle is stabbing me in the ass cheek hundreds of times per second, and i'm regretting skipping numbing cream. i just got a tattoo of those same lyrics i've loved for so long, i am not afraid to keep on living", and now i'm getting a tattoo of a ghost cow that was drawn by two strangers-quickly-turned-friends that i met the day of that very concert. it's the most spontaneous, stupid decision of my entire life, and something in me comes alive as soon as i feel the needle first hit my skin. i'm a grown adult, and i can control my body and life. i don't have to plan everything a decade in advance, worrying about making the "wrong" decision. the cow on my ass changed my life.

i'm lying on a bed in a doctor's office, my bleach-damaged red hair staining the white paper pulled over the pillow, and another man, this time not tattooed at all, is approaching me with another needle - this one doesn't contain ink, it's testosterone. it's my first and last shot, because i turn out to be allergic to it, and that destroys me, but it's the most defining moment of my transition so far, and the pure joy and hope and life i feel afterwards makes up for the fact my ass and thigh hurt so badly i cannot sit for four days.

i'm sitting in a hairdresser's chair, watching as the hairdresser i've trusted for three years takes clippers to my beloved emo hair. i pretend i'm not about to cry. my mother's making me shave my hair, she doesn't like the dye and - silently - she doesn't like that it's something i have control of. i watch m hair fall in clumps of the floor, it's damaged beyond salvation and shaving it was really the best solution anyway, but it's been eight months now and i still feel a deep sense of shame and hatred when i see myself without a wig.

i'm kneeling on the floor in a hastily pulled-together cosplay of saeki from bible black, my hands trembling, heart pounding, phone positioned precariously in the holder of my ring light that threatens to fall over at any moment. i'm about to do something i've entertained the idea of for around a year but talked myself out of - i wasn't attractive enough, i was too nerdy, i was too shy, it would ruin my life, my family would kill me. i'm about to film my first porn video. i don't know it then, but that video would change and save my life in the most beautiful, wild way, and i will be so thankful that i didn't give in to the voice in my head telling me i'm never good enough.

i'm giggling texting my friends a screenshot of something nice someone said about me - something so simple and so inherently poetic that it sets off some kind of realisation in my head that i'm still walking through the hazy cloud of. "that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," i say, listening to everything has changed on repeat and imagining that he might have heard these lyrics and thought of me too. "you're crushing on him," my friend replies, then a few minutes later it's followed by a simple "tell him. right now." i spend a week debating with my friends if he could like me, then i decide i'm inherently unlovable and stupidly optimistic. "i care about him way too much to ever risk jeopardising a friendship over my unrequited feelings," i say, with taylor swift's red album playing non-stop for a week, as if her heartbreak and hope is meant to suddenly stop my fear of rejection. it's a nice and terrifying feeling, falling in love, as if i've stepped from an airplane and am desperately waiting for someone else to pull my parachute cord before i shatter against the ground when i land. i've contented myself to admire this feeling from afar, but the thought that i'd remind anyone of such a poetic new beginning - spring - thawed something in the ice-frozen heart i'd tried to protect, and i'm content to send messages in bottles while i daydream of the kind of bright, burning, red love that inspired the album i've found myself turning to lately.

and then, i'm waking up in a hospital bed. my throat feels like i've swallowed glass, my limbs all feel like concrete, my headache feels like i've slammed it against a wall for an hour straight, and black dots are dancing around my vision as i struggle to not throw up. i'm struck by a deep shame and guilt, then humiliation. i've survived. fuck. i didn't want this to happen. i look around at my mom and younger brother crying, at my mother standing in the corner of the room looking exhausted, at my friend curled up in a chair beside my bed clutching the side of the bed while she sobs that she shouldn't have left me alone for the night, and all i feel is self-loathing. then i stay in a ward, stripped of my phone - my only connection to people - and my dignity, and i cry. and i think. i make plans. i get out of the ward and, slowly, cautiously, check tumblr. i see a post from one of my friends, then i see tags and comments and asks from people all mourning me. i see people saying they wished we'd been friends, they wished they'd reached out, that they loved me, that they wished i was happier where i'd ended up. and i cry. then i search for one URL, one name, one person who i desperately hoped to hear from, almost more than anyone else combined. and the name never appears. and i cry. i tell myself i'm stupid, worthless and would've been better off dead. and i cry. and i don't stop crying. but i do prioritise those people who showed up. the people who sent me their love and well-wishes. the people who reached out. the people who noticed. the people who asked if i was okay, who did everything they could to check in somehow. and i vow those people are the ones that i will listen to, the voices I'll try to hear clearly over the own voice in my head screaming my little self-worth and fear of inadequacy and rejection will overpower any love or hope i find.

this year has been difficult. it's also had good things. i swore off love this year, romantic and platonic. and i'm ending this year with a helpless crush that turns me into a giggling puddle of foolish hope, a group of people i am desperately hoping i'll get to know next year, and hell of a lot of love for myself. i love my gym, i love my job, i love my friends, i love my cat, i love my family. i love myself, and i'm learning to say that without being embarrassed or self-deprecating.

i started this year stuck in a relationship where i felt emotionally worthless. i'm ending this year prioritising people who think i'm worth something to them. i started this year hating every inch of my body because i felt physically undesirable. i'm ending this year as a porn star. i started this year worrying about not living up to my ten-year plan. i'm ending this year feeling more lost and free than ever before.

i'm on the precipice of everything i've dreamed of and worked for. i'm trying to cherish each and every second.

happy new year. i hope the next one is gentler.

love, taylor

#taylor.txt #personal #if you take the time to read this i love you and thank you from the bottom of my heart it means the world to me

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