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1rsoldiersince2012 · 2 months

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Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3176 (chapter 49)

a quick update to break yet another writer's block * sighs *

49. Another night in Hell's Kitchen

"Who's this fancy looking fella?" Foggy asks, taking in Matt's appearance when you two come to the office minutes before the work day begins.

"You like it?" Matt slowly spins around, showing off his new navy blue suit, paired with a dark red tie with small black dots.

"Did you sell your kidney or something to buy this? Jesus, you're making me look like a subway worker." Foggy laughs, coming to touch Matt's suit to feel the material.

"Nah, got a good deal." Matt smiles, adding, "all the glory should go to y/n, she managed to bargain a smaller price."

Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you quickly turn around from Foggy and Karen to hang your coat. "The owner is a friend of my mom and well, your blindness really soothed his character."

"Wait, wait. I think I'm missing something." Foggy stands, one hand on his hips, and intently looks at the two of you. "I think I need an explanation."

"Y/n invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and we raided the shops later." Matt shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal to hang out with an employee... On a holiday. At her parent's house.

"I just couldn't let him be sullen the whole weekend while we're all away." Making way towards the kitchen for coffee, you also escape curious glances, and soon, clients start coming, pilling up in the lobby with Karen. You don't get a chance to talk with Matt until noon, as he spends most of the time with Foggy, talking to clients and running around the lobby to print documents. You, however, continue to work alone in the office until the lunch break, and just when you thought you were all going to grab a bite, and you could have a chance to smoke a cigarette or two, three loud bangs on your office door, ruin all of your plans.

***

"I'm sorry... But your son has been involved in..." you raise your eyebrows at the short-haired black woman and her 16-year-old son, "an armed robbery?"

"Yes, I've already mentioned it four times."

"Sorry, I'm a bit... Not well today. So, Paxton, could you please tell me what exactly happened? If you want to stay out of jail, I need to hear every single detail."

Paxton's mother crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the treatment she was receiving, while Paxton was sitting on one of the armchairs, not particularly bothered by the whole situation. "Nothing. My mother is exaggerating." He shrugs, looking out through the window.

"I'm sorry, he's joking, right sweetheart?" His mother tries to gently touch his arm, but Paxton slides away as far as he can. "He told me everything last night. That's why I came here without an appointment. I noticed how many people are here, I am so glad you could take us in during your break."

"Mrs Harris..." You begin, tapping your pen on your notebook, "enough with the pleasantries. I need the details so I could tell you if I'm able to help you and Paxton. Now, please, talk."

"Remember that article a couple of weeks ago about how five men robbed a jewelry store?" She asks, casting her eyes to the ground; you give her a negative answer and wait for a more detailed explanation. "Well, Paxton was involved in it."

"What did you steal?"

"Rings, necklaces, earrings. I found a box of them in his room." She answers for Paxton.

You look at the boy, noticing a small smirk he just bit away. "What were you planning to do with them, Paxton?"

"Sell. It's all gold." He rolls his eyes.

"Why?"

"I need money." Paxton says in a hurtful tone, sending a glare towards you.

"What for?" Your question hangs in the air heavily. "Why is a teenage boy so in need of money that he must go rob a jewelry store? Tell me, do you work somewhere?"

"No, the money that I bring home is enough." Mrs Harris answers for her son once more, and you look at him in thought.

"Is it drugs, Paxton? You need more money for a dose, don't you?" He stares back at you, visibly irritated. "Is it cocaine? Or marijuana? Do you smoke with your criminal friends after school? Where'd you get the guns from?"

"Excuse me, but these are false accusations, Miss y/l/n, I-"

You hold your hand up, and continue to look right at the boy. "It is drugs. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose. You keep buying those eye drops in hopes of concealing it, but they don't work, do they?"

"Miss-"

"How do you know?" He finally asks after failing the staring contest.

"I had my fair share of experience with drug addicts. Now, if we cleared this one up, where'd you get the guns and who were your accomplices?"

"I can't tell you. I made a promise." He protests in vain.

"Addict's promise is nothing more than an empty talk. Did they threaten you?" You're met with silence and uneasiness from Mrs Harris. "Paxton, we're bound by an attorney-client privilege. Whatever you say, stays in this room. I can only advise what's best for you in court."

"No."

"I think you're lying to me."

"Yes, okay? I had to keep my mouth shut so they would give me my share." You rub your forehead in thought, when Paxton speaks up again, "we found some guns in an abandoned place, it was like a warehouse or something. We only came there to threaten the owner, but then Joey fired a shot and... We didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Did you hurt someone?"

"No, the bullet went through the display glass, but we got scared and ran away." Paxton was still restricted, but after you assured that it stays between you three, he opened up.

"Did anyone see you?"

"No, we wore masks."

"Can you tell other names? Besides Joey?"

He hesitates, cracking his fingers, afraid to meet his mother's eyes.

***

"He's agreed to help us, in exchange for a full immunity."

"Did he give any names?" Mahoney asks, flipping over the papers.

"All of them." You answer, looking over at Mrs Harris and her son, still in your office. Matt and the rest of the office returned from their lunch break, and Matt was awkwardly hanging around Karen's desk, listening to you and Mahoney talking on the phone from time to time. Karen was pushing him to get a grip and finally start taking money from the clients, rather than doing everything for free; yet he kept pushing back with the same old arguments.

"Well, I need you to come to the station, so we could take the statement, only then I can guarantee a full immunity."

"Alright, we'll see you soon, Sergeant."

***

You enter Josie's before seven, pushing through the thick crowd to the pool tables, old rock music is blaring through the speakers on full volume. Some guy almost spills his drink and starts apologizing profusely, so you quicken your step until you finally see familiar faces of Nelson and Murdock. "Apologies for the delay, Mahoney held us up." You sigh, stopping in front of the pool table to watch how Foggy misses a perfect shot.

"He likes to do that a lot." Foggy comments, trying to cover up his incredible failure.

"What happened? You were gone the whole afternoon." Matt fixes his glasses, directing his movements elsewhere, although he wanted to at least put a comforting hand on your shoulder... But not in public.

"Uh... Whiskey neat?" You ask him, snatching his drink without waiting for an answer, and when the alcohol burns your throat, finally reply, "so basically, the warehouse where the kids found guns belong to the irish, yes, yet another gang in Hell's Kitchen. And the police are on the lookout for them, but it seems that they went into hiding." You put an empty glass on the table next to you, and touch Matt's shoulder, "Next one's on me."

"Wait, so what happened to the kids?" Karen asks, sipping her own drink, which you notice to be the same brand of beer that Matt keeps buying for himself.

"We all talked, but of course, their parents weren't happy with the charges, so none of them confessed, but Paxton's on tape, and he still has the full immunity on the table."

"And the store owner?"

"He didn't recognize any of them, but he did recognize the stolen jewelry that Paxton brought with him. At least they were smart enough to wear masks, but if Mahoney pulls out a search warrant, it's over for them." You sigh, plopping on the chair nearby. "I'm dog tired and I can't believe I've walked all the way from the station here."

"Hey, it's time to relax now, we've got all gang here!" Foggy puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes, a bit too strong for your liking.

"Nelson and Murdock are finally back!" Karen lifts her bottle and cheers when Matt's shot goes right into the hole.

"That's a pretty damn good shot there, Murdock." You comment, and Matt's cheeks slightly blush. You quickly check him out, relaxed and laid back, his jacket ditched somewhere on the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his strong arms exposed. If you could, you'd take him right here in the filthy bathroom of Josie's bar; but you can only bite your lip and wait for Josie to bring you a drink.

Matt laughs, "I only got lucky this time."

"He's been riding on that luck the whole evening, don't trust his words." Foggy comments and goes around the table to find the best position for himself again.

*** The evening goes by quickly, you've already lost the count on how many drinks you have consumed in those couple of hours, the bar is nowhere near empty, on the contrary, it only became fuller. Foggy has won two out of six rounds against Matt and has been glued to his beer ever since, apart from an occasional bathroom break, and now it was Karen v Matt in the 'grand pool battle', as Foggy called it.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your purse, confused. 1 new message. You can't help but look around the bar, before opening the message from an unknown number. Maybe Todd has come back to haunt you again?

U/N: hey, just wanted to check in, how are you?

You: sorry, who's this?

You see three dots appear and disappear multiple times, and at last, the person texts back, you quickly sober up.

U/N: It's Poindexter.

U/N: don't mean to appear like a stalker, but got your number from the case documents.

You: Oh

Dex clenches his jaw tightly, and Ray turns to look at him, clutching his phone. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dex answers, briefly looking around where they have parked their car. Dex and Ray were on a lookout mission tonight, and after a long afternoon of contemplating, he finally gathered enough courage to text you. And your response wasn't as warm as he expected it to be.

After two long minutes, which felt like an hour to Dex, you finally started typing something. Ray side-eyed his partner with rising interest, pretty much because he has never seen him staring at his phone like that. Dex's small smirk to your message added more suspicion to the already boiling pot.

You: does this count as a part of your job, agent?

Dex: not when I'm off duty.

You: are you off duty now?

Dex: well, I guess you caught me this time.

Matt listens to the sudden liveliness of your phone, slightly confused, but then Karen appears next to him and offers to teach how to play pool 'correctly', despite the obvious fact that he's been playing with Foggy the whole evening. You watch them from behind a half empty glass of whiskey, catching the way drunken Karen allowed herself to boldly touch Matt. You shouldn't be mad or jealous... Theoretically... Because you two weren't public or official. But theory aside, you were biting your cheek to refrain from a sarcastic remark. Matt couldn't help himself but smile awkwardly when he felt Karen's fingers sliding along his arm; her closeness was too much for his liking, especially in front of you; but your attention was somewhere else already.

You: didn't think feds worked overtime. You replied cheekily, but then added, I'm ok. Thanks for asking, Dex.

Dex's response was quick, you don't know a lot about us then. I guess everything that happened was very hard for you.

You get a fresh glass of whiskey, thinking over his message. It was strange, that when your life has finally settled, weeks after Teneke's murder, Dex decided to text you. Although there was some truth in his words, it was hard, the nightmares weren't the fun part of the whole thing too... But it was all in the past now; with Matt by your side, you allowed yourself to relax and not think of all the bad things that happened in your life since your return to Hell's Kitchen.

You: it was, yeah. If we're already on this subject, how are you?

Dex: I'm good, thanks.

And he was, especially when you texted back. His smile, even though a brief one, didn't go unnoticed by Ray. Dex wanted to text something else, keep the conversation going, but his mind was blank, especially when it came to making small talk; although he was now guarded by his phone and safe from any first-hand awkwardness, Dex still didn't know how to deal with the sudden stress. But his self-pitying session got interrupted by your message, so, what are you up to right now? So, you did care after all. Enough to not let this conversation die.

Dex: on a lookout for a bad guy, pretty boring. And you? Hopefully something more exciting.

You: in a bar, drinking my salary away with the bosses. How bad that bad guy is?

Dex: pretty bad in my opinion. Don't drink too much, you won't feel well tomorrow :)

You lock your phone and notice that Foggy and Karen were already dressed up.

"Look who's off her phone already, you missed all the fun." Foggy says, buttoning his coat up.

"You're leaving already?"

"Yeah, Karen's afraid to go home alone and I-"

"I am not!" Karen giggles, steadying herself against the pool table. Matt laughs, leaning on the pool cue and sips his beer.

"Huh, maybe I should head home as well... Just want a cigarette so bad, haven't had one the whole day." You sigh, and say your goodbyes to Foggy and Karen. The bar is still full, Josie's been running non-stop, and you think to yourself if it's always like this on a Monday night.

"That leaves just two us now, huh?" Matt says, striking the white ball into the red one.

"Isn't this just so romantic?" You laugh, walking closer to Matt, and whispering in his ear, "those shouting ones really know how to create an atmosphere...Full of sweaty bodies and that stink of cheap beer."

"I'd say this is perfect." He laughs, handing you the pool cue.

"No, I don't play."

"Come on, let me teach you."

"Really? And how will you do that?"

"With your help, of course." Matt laughs into your ear, and puts his hands around your shoulders, positioning the cue in your hands. "Now, turn where the white one is." You do that, noticing that there's a green ball right behind the white one. "And now, you strike that ball into another one, like that." He pushes the cue with quick, powerful movement, still holding your hand.

"It went in!"

"See, it's easy." He smiles, forgetting that he was gonna ask you who was texting you this late in the evening. You celebrate for a moment, but then grab Matt's hand, asking to go home. And who was Matt to refuse your ideas, when he knew how tired you were?

As you were waiting for a taxi outside, Matt was standing so close to you that you smelled his perfume mixed with all the smells of the bar even through your burning cigarette.

"Listen, I wanna ask you something, y/n." He begins, shuffling his feet on the sidewalk. "Do you... Would you like to go on a date tomorrow evening?"

"A date?" You ask again, averting your attention from the passing cars. "Matt, we've been together for like a month."

"I know, and I haven't asked you on a date once, that's on me." His warm hands found yours and squeezed affectionately, "let's go to some nice place, maybe not too expensive," you laugh and it's like music to his ears, "I would choose it myself, but unfortunately," Matt gestures to his glasses, "I'll put on my best suit, and you could put on that silk dress I helped you choose... What do you say?"

You wanted to kiss him right now and never let him out of your arms, "I have one place in mind... I just hope that it will be as romantic as Josie's."

He laughs, throwing his head back, "so, that's a yes?"

"Affirmate, Mr Murdock." You kiss him on the cheek, leaving the biggest smile on his face.

***

"Hey, I told you I'm sorry, I tried to reason with my mother to not go to that lawyer!" Paxton's voice rings in the dark alley, four dark figures hovering above him menacingly.

"So you had to tell our names to save your own ass, didn't you?" Joey asks, kicking Paxton's thigh with enough force to earn a loud cry.

"I was busted either way. She cracked me about the drugs, I can't be in jail for having drugs in my house, please!"

"You're just a pussy, Paxton. I always knew you were the weakest link." Toby says, pulling the hood off his head. "We could've sold that gold for good money and taken more guns from the warehouse, but it's all busted now. And whose fault is that?"

"Guys, please," Paxton shields his head from another kick, "I beg you, stop, I'll take everything back, I promise-"

"I don't take promises from a snitch. We should just kill you right now." Joey says, picking up a brick from the ground, and gets hit by one of Daredevil's billy clubs, which bounces off to knock out Toby. The rest of the gang look around in panic, until they notice a dark figure on one of the rooftops, and another billy club flies through the air and knocks them out as well.

"Please, please, don't kill me, Daredevil!" Paxton lies back down, keeping his hands in the air.

The devil of Hell's Kitchen lands on the ground switfly with little effort and picks up his billy clubs, agonizingly slowly stalking towards Paxton. "Call the police, call your lawyer first thing in the morning, leave no details, you understand? Drop the shady business or I won't be so nice the next time we meet." Matt rasps out, in case Paxton has heard him speaking in the office.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it, please don't hurt me anyone." Paxton cries out, holding his bruised side.

"Make the call right now, Paxton, I won't ask again."

The boy pulls out his phone, screen almost shattered from the kicks and dials the emergency number, fearfully looking at his knocked out friends and Daredevil himself, standing and looking right at him.

Another typical night in Hell's Kitchen.

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neverevan · 8 months

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Re: Buck's loft decor - they kind of established that his designer /artist girlfriend (Ali) designed the place or at least had a heavy hand in picking things out.

Yeah I can give credit for most of the furniture to Ali, but that's about it. But thank you for this ask, because it made me go down the rabbit hole, so here are the details of Buck's loft in regards to what Ali had influence on and everything that changed since.

So this is the scene immediately before she broke up with Buck and just around the time Buck moved in. Seemingly the pictures by the door aren't there yet, nor are the baskets and the pictures on the shelf by his bed (see later pics), it's very much the bare minimum, right? Furniture, kitchen appliances, TV, some rugs and blankets.

The next time we see the loft is in season 3 when Eddie comes to help Buck pull himself together. If you look at the shelf you have some baskets and pictures there that are pretty distinctive and were not there when Ali dropped him off. Obviously people will have stuff on their shelves in their homes, that's not my point here. But look at the basket and the little box beside it... Whatever's inside, it sure as hell looks decorative to me.

Then moving onto the covid era. There are pictures by the door, but also a new dining table. (The one that was presumably picked by Ali was round.) The rug in the kitchen seems new too.

As far as I could tell this is the first time we see this plant, but I admit I might be wrong about that, because we don't exactly see this corner when Ali breaks up with Buck.

Then going forward with the other small stuff from later seasons (before and after Taylor moved in).

Look at the plant and the baskets on the dining table (you can see them on most pics actually). Clearly decorative.

And then there's the fruit bowl. Again, not trying to generalise one bit, but how many cishet guys do you know who live alone and have a fruit bowl? (Same guy "who's idea about healthy food is a side salad" apparently.)

I also honestly doubt that the gloves and the apron are coming from Ali either, but I'm willing to write them up to Maddie or Taylor (except these are colours we see Buck wear regularly when off duty).

This one is just for my amusement, because look at all those spices! (Actually I will point back to this in a minute.)

And finally this picture to talk about the cleanliness.

That is a hell of a light coloured kitchen furniture. Do you know how hard it is to keep something like that clean? (Unfortunately I do, from experience.) Especially when you're a guy who regularly cooks and bakes and not just easy meals, but like very elaborate recipes, admittedly even trying them out 3 times before even serving it to anyone.

But this is my main point: This is not a real flat. This is not a real kitchen. This is a set.

The set designers' job is to create a set that corresponds to the story and the characters interacting in it (while you also have someone on set who pays attention to continuity with objects and stuff, but sometimes you still end up with Starbucks cups on a medieval set, whoops), their job also includes adding tear, wear, dirt and grime accordingly to the usage of certain places and objects.

Of course, it's more than possible that they never really thought about it from this angle, they just wanted the set to look warmer when filming scenes in it and having it clean for continuity purposes.

All that being said, within the show this is Buck's place and someone's home tells you a lot about the person. So, regardless of it being intentional in most cases, this loft and the items in it aren't exactly what you'd normally find in a bachelor's pad. (Nor do I think someone could afford a place like that alone in LA, but that's an entirely different topic.)

#evan buckley #evan buck buckley #911 #911 fox #anon #ask #I've really gone deep with this one #but remember these are just musings I'm not working on the show lmao #don't have to agree but that won't change my opinions #my stuff

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lightandfellowship · 1 year

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(KHDR spoilers)

It’s such a small detail but the implications of it hurt my heart regardless. During the scene where Xehanort drops Ven off in the Land of Departure, there’s a part where Xehanort tries to explain himself to Eraqus in more detail, like he has this speech planned to convince Eraqus that he’s remorseful over what he did and has realized the error of his ways. But before Xehanort can get his words out, Eraqus instantly shuts him down with “There’s no need. Your letter said enough. Water under the bridge.” and at that point, you’d think the conversation would just end there. Desired result achieved. But no, even when Xehanort has NO obligation to elaborate further, he’s ALREADY been forgiven, he STILL feels the need to get out his “I’m sorry.”

Like. Why. Why are you doing this to me. Maybe some small part of you IS sorry and you desperately need Eraqus to know that, or maybe you’re just adding the figurative cherry to the top of your manipulation sundae, or maybe it’s BOTH.

And Eraqus’ response to this is really interesting, too. He looks angry, maybe annoyed that Xehanort insisted on continuing anyway despite being told to drop it. And then Eraqus doesn’t acknowledge the sorry at all and instead changes the subject to talk about Ven, further illustrating how Eraqus would rather forgive and forget than discuss painful events of the past. Having to address an apology would mean having to address Xehanort scarring him and Eraqus would just prefer to pretend that that never happened.

It’s tiny nuances to the dialog like this that make me love KHDR so much, I think. The implications of these details are so subtle that they might go completely unnoticed but there was clearly a lot of thought put into their inclusion. They didn’t have to write Xehanort telling Eraqus he was sorry after already being forgiven. They didn’t have to write Eraqus changing the subject. The intent of this scene from a plot perspective wouldn’t have been altered all that much if these details didn’t exist. But they did include these details, and for good reason. For the sake of the character writing.

#khdr #kingdom hearts dark road #xehanort #eraqus #rambling about dim path #ch tag: era #ch tag: xeh #khdr spoilers

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dairy-farmer · 2 years

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I see your "Bruce admits he wants to sleep with Tim" and raise you Tim, on truth serum, having to admit he wants to sleep with Bruce followed by a detailed account of all the ways he wants Bruce to violate him which ends with him pregnant of course! In front of a live audience. As Tim Drake-Wayne. Which he drags out for as long as possible because if he's telling Tim's deep, dark secret then he's not telling Red Robin's.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!ANON!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️YES YES 1000% !!!!!!!!!

the way i imagine it goes down is at a charity gala. a lot of wealthy people meandering around with their checkbooks who came with the intent to be charmed into giving away money to a good cause for the added benefit of tax breaks.

of course that's a place that gets targeted and of course the people who come in are looking to take more than just the jewls and pocketwatches already on hand.

they need bank numbers, account pins. they have a person on hand with a tablet ready to begin transferring funds in an instant.

but criminals in gotham all have a kind of conceited streak about them. they like the attention and the showmanship of committing crimes and holding hostages.

so while some people have guns pointed to people's heads to keep the crowd under control, other are taking the stage and chasing off the band members.

the leader is clearly cocky and overly confident (the worst thing you could be as a criminal). he also is someone that tim recognizes.

someone who used to work in IT at one of WEs sister companies but was fired for being caught attempting to move company funds into an account.

tim recognizes his face and as their gaze scans the crowd and settles on him he's certain the other recognizes him too because just a single finger pointed in his direction and two brutes are grabbing tim and dragging him up the few steps to the stage where he's thrown down at the ringleaders feet.

so-called 'truth serums' have gotten more legit over the years. having a mind reader or psychic on your side is still the best way to get clear and accurate answers given how truth serums can be manipulated.

something tim's been trained in doing. so when he spots a little gasmask attached to a gas canister followed by an assurance that this would help loosen up that tongue- tim doesn't sturggle as much as he should.

so long as can keep them away from information that truly matters tim will be fine.

so tim offers up numbers to one of the bank accounts he has. it just has a few hundred thousand in case he ever runs into an emergency and needs to withdraw immediate funds. once this is over he'll call his bank to get a freeze on it and the money will likely never even make it past processing.

but once the ringleader has what he wants tim is expecting to get tossed aside and for the next person to get taken up.

but he underestimates the breadth of the grudge the ringleader is holding.

rather than getting dragged back down, a vicious grin widens on that mouth before more gas is pumped into his mouth. tim tries to hold his breath but gets punched in the gut when caught and sucks in quite a bit.

it's enough to make him goo immediatly lightheaded and woozy with the voice of the guy holding him up distantly buzzing in his ear.

there's one thing that criminals in gotham love doing.

getting even.

a lot of them will risk everything just to get revenge on someone who they thought wronged them.

this guy is apparently no different.

he's willing to risk the entire operation, he's willing to risk them getting away before batman arrives, he's willing to risk stealing more money from other attendees just to humiliate tim.

tim hears feedback from one of the stage microphones ring painfully in his ears before it's pressed to his mouth with the question of -

"why don't you tell us your deepest, darkest secret mr. wayne? c'mon tell us something you'd never want anyone to know."

'i'm red robin' almost slips out before tim clenches his teeth shut and lets out a gritted sort of sound. fuck fuck fuck.

not good. not good. he needed to redirect. recontextualize. he needed to convince himself that isn't his most damning secret he needs to sacrifice something else, something that would only negatively effect him because if people knew he was red robin everyone else would go down with him too. it wouldn't be a leap to figure out bruce or dick, damian, or anyone else.

shit. shit. shit.

in hindsight, it's an easy choice. an easy decision to give up the thing he's kept close to his chest for years.

he'll probably be hearing about this on the news for months to come. he's definitely going to be getting dunked on by his brothers and friends for years and who even knew how bruce would react.

"i want to fuck bruce wayne so fucking badly," the words slide out of tim's mouth like they're made of oil.

the silence in the room is deafening. before there were the scattered sounds of people shifting, of women tearfully sniffling, and men making muttered under-their-breath threats.

now you could hear a pin drop.

tim can feel the 'and also i'm red robin' making it's way out of his throat so he keeps going even as the new rogue beside him mutters loud enough to be picked up by the mic-

"what the fu-?"

"i fantasize about it all the time. he's just so big and tall-" tim can feel as a cringe crosses his expression because yes that is what he thinks about he thinks about how big bruce is, how he picks tim up easily. he stares at his hands sometimes, his fingers. he imagines how big his cock is, how he'd split tim's little hole all the way open.

it would've been worse when he was a kid. god had tim been a skinny little runt of a child. his cunt would've gotten fucking destroyed.

he used to imagine it. every night he'd hope that bruce would open his door and wander into his room. he'd taken to wearing short little nightdresses and spilling a lie about how he overheated easily. soon after that tim started going to bed without any panties. hoping bruce would see that and take it as in invitation to fuck him.

god how tim had wanted it. every person tim had ever fucked had been someone taller, bigger, and older. all of them had some trait that had reminded him of bruce. the color of their hair, of their eyes, the size of their hands, the musculature of their build.

tim fantasized about bruce being just a little weaker, a little more immoral and giving into the temptation of having a young boy under his roof. tim imagines how bruce doesn't think it all through how he's just as desperate to fuck tim as tim is to be fucked and maybe there's an accident. maybe bruce forgets the condom and spills into him with his boiling hot cum that scorches tim's insides.

tim imagines having bruce's baby. having something that ties them together forever, having proof that bruce, at some point, loved him enough to fuck him.

bruce does love him! tim knows that! but not in the way time wants to be loved. not in that deep, intimate, carnal way.

everything tim had ever done it was for the off chance that bruce might fuck him as a reward. being his emotional support, taking a job at WE, caring for him and his family, doing everything in his power to make bruce's life easier- it was all because he loved bruce.

but he knew bruce hardly looked his way. but that didn't mean tim didn't yearn for it- for his attention and his touch.

tim confesses to how he sometimes steals discarded clothing from bruce, how he holds it to his nose as he fucks his wet pussy with toys he's aquired over the years.

he saw bruce's cock once, years ago, at the pool where his swim shorts slipped off and it was - to date- the greatest moment of tim's life. he'd masturbated so much that week that he could hardly walk without his poor, worn pussy getting sore.

sometimes bruce would get nightmares and struggle to sleep so tim volunteered to keep him company and sleep with him in his bed. but tim's intentions had always been less than pure. he'd imagined creeping over bruce and tugging down his pants. he fantasized about struggling to sink down on bruce's cock and him awakening to the sight of tim trying to fuck him and forcing his massive cock into his litte baby pussy.

tim had felt like this for years, before he'd even met bruce.

he'd been half devastated and half ecstatic when bruce adopted him because it meant they might never get married and because tim now had his last name.

tim knows it's wrong he knows it. he knows there must be something deeply wrong with him for wanting this so much but he can't help it. it's all he thinks about, it's all he wants with every bit of his soul.

but he never says anything, would never say anything because he doesn't want bruce to distance himself. he doesn't want bruce to be unfortable or dislike him because that would hurt more than anything in the world.

the only thing worse than not having bruce is losing him completely.

tim talks and talks and talks. he goes on and on about every bit he's ever thought about and wanted and he speaks into that microphone without taking a breath. until he's red in the face.

he's saying the thing he wouldn't have said even under threat of bodily harm and while some part of tim is horribly humiliated, the other pragmatic part of him is whispering that this is good, it's the best option. because if people are listening to tim talk about how badly he wants to get fucked by his dad then at least they're not listening about him being red robin.

tim is going on about how he wants to live under bruce's desk and be his little cockwarmer with his mouth when batman swoops in from the ceiling. tim knew that he hadn't seen bruce when he'd scanned the crowd.

gas obscures the vision of everyone present and tim listens as every person is swiftly taken down. the GCPD waits until the last person goes down to brust in and start evacuating people out as well as making arrests.

tim feels thick, familiar arms wrap around his waist and grapple up to the busted ceiling under the cover of the smoke.

tim is sure to go unnoticed even after all...that.

what doesn't go unnoticed is tim's mouth, still compelled to tell the truth as bruce cradles him close and lands on a quiet roof a few buildings away.

tim tilts his head up, staring at the white outs of bruce's cowl and-

"i want you so badly."

bruce's lips twitch and tim wants to bury a hole and drop dead because bruce is amused.

tim makes a sound in the back of his throat and buries his face in bruce's chest to hide from the humiliation.

bruce's hands are resting heavy on his hips and tim's cunt is twitching, all wet and slick from repeating every bit of desire tim had ever had for bruce now here he is. in bruce's arms with their chests pressed together and bruce's hands gripping his hips to keep him close and still.

and tim's mouth still isn't stopping.

rambling about how big bruce's hands are on him, how much he likes being in his arms, how he wants to suck bruce's dick, how he wants to roll onto his back like a puppy for bruce.

and tim feels as bruce....as bruce tightens his grip on him. as his hands stroke tim's lower back and brush over his soft rear.

tim shivers, full body trembling as bruce's hands stroke over him, cupping and squeezing him all around as tim just word vomits.

"oh fuck oh god oh shit okay, fuck, i want to fuck you oh please please let me fuck you-"

tim's begging for bruce to let him get on his knees or back. absolutely pleading for bruce's cock and-

bruce is like a peacock.

it's really obvious when he's pleased, he gets this thin lipped smile that shows the barest flash of teeth.

tim is pressed close, mouth nearly kissing bruce's jaw.

tim knows bruce heard everything he'd said. the speakers connected to the microphone had been loud.

there was no way he didn't know what tim had said and that's obvious when bruce presses him to a wall and slots his knee between tim's legs to grind up against his cunt.

exactly something tim had told an entire room full of people he'd imagined bruce doing to him.

now it was happening.

it was fucking happening.

tim was so happy he could die.

#anonymous #answered asks #asks

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odd8ball · 2 years

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Slightly and Hook (Step dad au)

Hook was unsettled by how quickly Slightly grew attached to him, it was cute but the constant questions made him suspicious. "What was your plan if you got caught?" Slightly asked. "That depends on what you mean by "caught", do you mean what would I do if I was in a prison or just caught by guards?" Hook responded as he disposed of a dish so burnt it was unrecognizable. "How about a prison?" Slightly responded. "Well it depends on the prison." Hook said being purposefully vague so the boy wouldn't use the information against him later.

"Awe come on! You have to have some cool pirate stories!" Slightly whined. Hook took off his frilly pink apron that was charred black in some spots due to the recent cooking disaster as smee put down the fire extinguisher. "I suppose...there is one I could tell you without revealing any secrets." Hook said hesitantly. Slightly leaned a little closer clearly interested. Hook sighed and began to tell the a tale of what was to him, a standard pirate adventure he didn't think was all that interesting.

Slightly listened to the tale so earnestly and with such excitement Hook found himself enjoying telling it and adding little flourishes of detail and adding dramatic pauses. "-and so there I was on the edge of a building with a knife to my throat...I was sure I was going to die. That was until I noticed that I was within arms reach of his gun, a beginner's mistake but unfortunately a deadly one." Hook said as Slightly was on the edge of his seat. "How did you manage to do it with a knife to your throat?" Slightly asked.

"Well being an experienced pirate despite my age at the time was certainly an advantage, this wasn't my first time quickly stealing a gun from a holster. Although it was the first time I had done it in such a highly dangerous position. It was all all a matter of pulling the trigger quickly once the barrel was below his chin. After that we took what we could and ran with the loot under the cover of darkness." Hook finished.

Slightly was in awe and it gave hook a sense of pride, at least somebody still thought he was impressive. "Do you think you could teach me how to do something like that?" Slightly asked. "If I were to teach anyone it would be a member of my crew, the nature of grown up things I'm afraid." Hook said Smugly as Slightly sank into his chair frustrated. "No fair! I can learn something just as good as an adult!" Slightly complained. "Yes well I'll be glad to teach you when you decide to grow up." Hook said giving the boy a few pats on the head and moving to examine a gift from his nice neighbors.

Joe had given him a coffee machine, he wasn't sure how it worked but his neighbor said it would give him energy. God knows he needed energy, especially with how drained he felt in the mornings. Slightly's grumpy expression made Hook pause on reading the instructions. "Do you want to hear another story?" He asked. In a flash Slightly was next to him intent to listen, he spent the next ten minutes telling the boy tales about his early years as a pirate captain.

youtube

@tragicbeauty1991 @chaosgremlin95

#peter pan #peter pan stepdad au #disney #captain hook #slightly #fluffy #found family #lost boys #captain hook disney #alternate universe #dad captain hook #Youtube #disney villains #fanfiction #fanfic #disney fanfiction #peter pan fanfiction

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ravns-reviews · 1 year

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Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone. 🥂🎄🎉

Today I decided to dive back a little into the world of Halloween by talking about the very popular Wednesday series by Tim Burton that you can find on Netflix.

I'm very divided by this series and I think I'm going to need a season 2 to be sure of how I feel about it.

Already you should know that I was super excited about this series because Tim Burton is my favorite director and I've been a fan of the Addams family since I was little. So I really liked the two together. 🤭

❗️Be careful, there may be spoilers, so read this article after watching the series.❗️

First let's talk about what I didn't like about Wednesday.

First of all: why would you want to put Wednesday in a relationship with someone at all??🤷‍♀️ For me Wednesday is not the type of person to date someone or to take very long before doing so. She is the opposite of her parents in her relationship with love. I admit that this part of the story bored me quite quickly.

Then I find that the development of the characters is not explored enough. Maybe it's intentional on the part of the director to save material for a season 2, but I still find that we know very little about the different characters of the series. for example Eugene who is Wednesday's "best friend" and therefore quite important the only things we know about him is that he has two moms and they control the bees, as well as his love of caramel. It's quite a bit. And I think that goes for all the characters. we really only know the bare minimum and I find that a shame. So I hope we will talk about it a little more in the next season.

In the same idea as the development of characters I find that certain parts of the plot come a bit out of nowhere or on the contrary are abandoned all at once. for example the fact that the director pretends to be Morticia's friend when she doesn't like her I thought it would give rise to a plot but no. We are just given this information without telling us more afterwards. So why give it to us? after that it is always possible that something will come back in a next season, but in this case why tell us now?? I was a bit confused about some things I must admit.

Finally I know it's only a detail but can we talk for a moment about the final fight between Wednesday and Joseph Crackstone?? Am I the only one disappointed by this final fight?? i mean this is supposed to be the climax of the season where the two enemies go head to head to see which one will win and we get to have that?? I expected so much more that I confess that it frustrated me (much like the final fight between Harry and Voldemort.) 🤣

Despite everything there are still things that I like more. 🤭

The sets and costumes are just gorgeous. We can clearly see the spirit of Tim Burton and I really like it. In addition, I like that we kept the essence of the members of the Addams family by adding a touch of modernity. Enid and Wednesday's room decor is definitely still my favorite. I like the fact that we show the character of the two girls thanks to their environment.

Obviously one of the things that I liked the most in the series is the fact that Christina Ricci, the interpreter of the original Wednesday, is present. Moreover the fact that it is one of the antagonists of the season is very interesting I find. a way for the old Wednesday to pass the torch to the new Wednesday. I loved..❤️

A detail that I also appreciated is the fact that the actors who play the Addams are of Hispanic origins since Gomez is supposed to be.

Finally can we salute the performance of Victor Dorobantu who plays The Thing ?? 😱 This actor managed to make me appreciate a hand!! moreover when one looks behind the scene one realizes the enormous work which it had to provide and I find that for that it deserves to be applauded.

Summary of the good and bad things about this series. I hope season 2 will allow me to appreciate it more.

And you what did you think of this series?? More positive or more negative? Do not hesitate to leave me your opinion in the comments.

#wednsday addams #wednesday #addams family #tim burton #netflix #jenna ortega #christina ricci

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pearlsslife · 1 year

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Beauty in the Little Things Manifesto

Open your mind, there is beauty in the little things. You just have to find it. After this semester, I was able to achieve a main "theme" or focal point from all of my posts. Each week, there was a different discussion, and a different prompt to answer as well. All of these prompts, had different topic matters, so there is not just one main theme or focal point of the semester. However, I believe I did learn a lot this semester. I was able to really examine every prompt I was given, and go more in depth. My whole life, I only went surface level in assignments. My peers always were able to see the bigger picture, however I always had trouble. After this semester, my main focus and theme with all my posts is that there is beauty in the little things. This means that objects may look different on the surface level, than they do on the inside if the individual digs deeper and really examines it. For example, my most recent post about the painting. I dug deeper to really find a meaning. At first glance, it looks like a bunch of flowers. Nothing very special about it. However, when looking at the little details, and the things tat others look over, that is where the real beauty lies. Another example of this, was the sculpture post. I see the sculpture I posted about every time I am on 5th Ave in Naples, and I always walked past it without thinking anything of it. I always was thinking, "2 really skinny people sitting on a bench, wow". After I had a chance to really go in depth, and examine, these "2 really skinny people" held a whole story after I realized what little components were added to bring this sculpture to life. They are in love, and enjoying company with each other so close together. They clearly have a story to tell, which one can only imagine and put together. This opposes my post on my music playlist. This was about cheating, and there is not a lot of beauty in cheating. People may find positivity, but this "little" slip-up that costs a relationship, is not necessarily beautiful. My chef's kiss post also fits in the bigger analytic picture here. We need to remember, however hard life gets, the little things do matter. I posted food in this post. Food is something we consume on the daily. People overlook the power these little daily tasks have on our lives. When the food looks and tastes good, that satisfies an individual. It makes them feel at ease, fills them up, and helps them continue on with their day. This society is so consumed up on daily tasks that we forget to stop and "smell the roses". This means we forget there is beauty in the little things. One can find happiness in anything. If they are open minded enough to at least. I feel that these Tumblr posts helped me look back on my thinking this past semester. I put a lot of time and effort into these posts, and I thought of the little details and the extra words more thoughtfully, which helped me out. I never took the time to appreciate life for what it has to offer. This is the bigger picture of my posts. Everyone in this world deserves happiness and to find the beauty in their lives. I hope my deeper thinking and analyzation throughout these blogs help whoever reads them, to always remember to stop and think. Look more into detail. Think about it harder. Try to find the beauty in everything. There is beauty, even in the ugly. This may contradict my opposing statement earlier, but even cheating has a. beauty. Now one is aware of the others intentions, and can move on with their life without the toxicity and negativity. Things are not always what they appear to be. My overall message and morale to everyone is the appreciate life, appreciate its beauties, and find the beauty in the little things.

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cafedanslanuit · 3 years

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♡ — pairing: kazutora x reader

♡ — summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡ — tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡ — a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones for being my lovely beta <3

♡ — masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa. “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash.

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again.

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #kazutora x reader #hanemiya kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora hanemiya #hanemiya kazutora #tokyo revengers #kazutora angst #tokyo revengers angst #kazutora x you #kazutora x y/n #hanemiya kazutora x you #hanemiya kazutora x y/n

986 notes · View notes

hold-him-down · 2 years

Text

The Fighter - Chapter 6

TW: legalized slavery setting, mild references to: dehumanization/past abuse

Notes: chronologically follows chapter 5, where leo feels sick after being drugged, wakes luke up in the middle of the night, has a panic attack, falls asleep crying, and luke starts to piece together some truths about his role in all this.

Table of Contents

“You’re losing on purpose,” Luke says, keeping his eyes carefully trained on the board. He’s the first to admit that he’s garbage at almost all board games. Leo, on the other hand… over the last hour, Luke sees what he can only assume is a very, very dormant desire to win in every terrible word that he plays. It’s kind of endearing, the way his brow furrows as he lays his letters.

The muscle in Leo’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. Luke is sure that his tone clearly indicates lightheartedness, but Leo is anxious, so Luke teases with caution.

“I’m sorry,” Leo says, his fingers tangling in his lap. “I’m not very good at scrabble.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Luke leans back, stretching out some of the tension he’s been holding through the day. “What else are you not very good at, Leo?”

It’s a shot in the dark, an attempt to keep things as light as they can be, with the added benefit of maybe breaking through some of the walls. But he recognizes the misstep immediately, as Leo’s fidgeting shifts to something a little more stressed. He sucks in a breath of crisp late summer air, closing his eyes against the wind on the balcony.

“Or I can… I’ll tell you something about me?”

Leo’s eyes are slow to open, exhaustion and anxiety written in his expression, but he nods. “Okay,” he says softly.

Luke talks with no expectation of reciprocation, and falls into a cadence of sharing details of his life: things about medical school, about his family, his friends. He pauses to give Leo a chance to speak if he chooses to. Leo doesn’t, but he listens actively, his face taking on a kind of genuinely curious expression that Luke can’t quite decide if he’s been taught to do. Luke goes through his favorites, books, movies, foods, sharing any basic facts he can think to of about himself, but he keeps things surface level. It’s merely an opportunity to test the water, to allow Leo to get comfortable in hearing his voice, if nothing else.

He watches curiously as Leo’s demeanor shifts with the attention off of him, and he digs, just a little bit, under the surface. He tells Leo about his complicated relationship with the piano, how he was forced into lessons at a young age and played diligently all through college. “I haven’t had as much time, since becoming a senator, to play,” he says softly, curling his fingers around his now lukewarm coffee.

Leo’s brow knots together at this. Timidly, he says, “I used to… I used to play, too.”

Luke is slow to make eye contact, swallowing his drink, treading more carefully. “Not anymore?” He pushes, just a little bit.

“Not since I entered the system.” His voice doesn’t carry the heavy sadness that Luke kind of expects, and instead, Leo speaks matter-of-factly. “But I enjoyed it a lot, before. I think my hands are probably too shaky to be any good at it now.”

Leo returns his focus to the all-but-abandoned game, and Luke can kind of see as he thinks through his move, before he plays another four-point word that makes Luke roll his eyes, securing Leo’s loss. Luke is more certain than anything else that it is intentional.

“We’ll have to do a rematch sometime,” Luke says, leaning back in his little plastic patio chair. “Where you show me what you can do.”

Leo smiles, and Luke notices the way the muscles in his back stand out as he reaches over the board, swiping the letters off. He blinks hard at the unwelcome thought.

“I don’t want to ruin a calm evening,” Luke says, “But I hoped we could continue what we started talking about last night? Are you okay out here? It should be a nice sunset tonight, I’m not sure if you’re up to… talking a little bit?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to spend any time outside,” Leo says, closing his eyes against the breeze. “It feels nice.”

There’s a sort of forced calmness in his tone.

“You’re welcome out here any time you want. Honestly, you’re not confined to the house at all. If you want to take a walk, or go to the store, or whatever, please feel free. We’ll pick up a phone for you this weekend, I can get you a card linked to my account. I… I really don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here.”

Leo smiles, the empty, agreeable smile that Luke is starting to pick up on.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Luke takes a breath, reminding himself that Leo is, in fact, a prisoner here, and that nothing he says to the contrary changes that. “I’m just going to talk for a minute, okay? I’m… I’ve given a lot of thought to how to go about this, and I’m just going to… I’m just going to go for it, okay?”

Leo nods, but his mouth twitches into a sort of shy, but genuine, smile. One that Luke hasn’t seen yet. He’s momentarily taken aback, but he turns his attention back to the trees so he doesn’t lose his momentum. “I think you know by now, I don’t… I haven’t really nailed down a plan here,” Luke says, keeping his eyes on the lake. “I don’t know how much you know, or how much you want to know, about how I came to land your contract, but it wasn’t something that I fully thought out.”

Leo nods. “I understand.”

“I also don’t know how much you understand about your own physical state. I expect that you realize you’re not in… great health, right now, but I know the doctors specifically limit the information you have access to, for whatever reason.” To control you. To diminish your autonomy. To hurt you.

Luke forces himself to turn to Leo, who nods again. “I’ve given some thought– I have a few ideas, for once you’re feeling mostly better. My dad and my brother share a practice, and they’re always looking for help filing things and with data entry and... It can be menial work, but if you want something to occupy your time, I’m sure they’d be happy to have you. Otherwise, I don’t really have a… a job for you here. You can just enjoy the days, watch tv, read, whatever. If you feel like you need work, you can go to the office?

“Rob’s happy to have you, I haven’t really spoken to my parents about it yet. Regardless, I don’t think it’s even on the table as an option for a couple of weeks. I need you to focus on resting, on eating, and on getting healthier first, okay? I can get you access to any of your medical information that you’d like access to, or all of it if you want.”

“Okay.”

Luke swallows, holding Leo’s eye contact. He can do this. “And, last thing… I think… I… We had talked last night about establishing some… some… rules.” Luke speaks softly, hating the feel of the word on his tongue. But he’d prepared himself for this, all day. It was going to make it easier on Leo, and so he would do it. “I… I’m not really comfortable with this,” he starts, his own hands fidgeting in his lap. “I understand why… I just, this part is harder for me. But before we get into it, I– I need to make sure you understand that there’s no punishment attached to any of these, okay? I… you can use them as a framework, for what would… make me comfortable, I guess. But if you break any of these rules, there is no consequence. In fact, I think I’d be more comfortable with you breaking them than strictly following them.” He holds Leo’s gaze, searching his eyes for any sign that it’s too much, but there’s only an openness there, an eagerness to comply.

“I figured, we could start with…” Luke closes his eyes, inhaling the crisp night air.

“Not to call you ‘Sir’?” Leo regards Luke carefully. His eyes are focused in a way that Luke hasn’t seen from him yet, his posture is… different. He’s sharp, but his tone seems light.

Luke blinks. “Yes, okay. I guess I did say that, I didn’t really mean it as a rule…”

“And to eat at least three times a day, use the bathroom, tell you if I am not hungry or if I don’t eat or if there’s anything out of the ordinary surrounding food.”

“Right, yes.”

“And then, to tell you if I’m not… If I’m not comfortable, or if you overstep any, uh, boundaries, to tell you.”

Luke nods.

“I think that’s… that’s it so far.”

“Great. Okay. Sure.” Luke takes a breath, trying to ground himself. Is he asking too much of Leo? Is it his right to ask anything at all? “I need you to try to be honest with me, about how you’re feeling. You’re allowed to say ‘no,’ to me, and you’re allowed to tell me if you’re feeling nervous or sick or… anything. I… I don’t know if this is a rule, I don’t know if there should be any rules… but I need this from you, okay? I want you to try to tell me no, like once a week, on something, alright?”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Leo says, keeping his voice low.

Luke nods. “Just… try to do it on something easy. I just... I need to know that you know that you can tell me no, okay? I don’t know how to get from here to… a place where we’re comfortable with each other. I know it’ll take time, and I know you’re… I know I’m actively pushing against something that I barely understand, but I want you to try. Just once in a while, try to tell me to fuck off, okay? I promise, you won’t be in trouble for it, ever.”

Leo nods, but he’s tense. “I can try,” he says, running his hands over his arms.

“Alright. Let’s just start there.” Luke isn’t unaware of the fact that these rules are all just vague recommendations, but if they serve to give Leo a framework, maybe it’ll make life a little easier.

“Did you think at all about what we talked about? About what I can do that might make this easier on you?”

Leo is clearly uncomfortable, but nods.

“I… I think tonight was g-good,” he starts. “I think once I get to know you a little bit, I really will do better… I’m not… I’m not bad at this, usually.” Luke holds his tongue. “I think… I think if you…” He pauses, running his hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I’m really… I’m capable of speaking, I just.” He shakes his head, icy blue eyes filled with apology meet Luke’s. “I think if you read whatever they sent about me, that might… that would maybe make it easier. Usually, all my previous buyers have known like… my medical history, the expectations, how I did in… in training, and my weaknesses, and how I’ve been taught to… to respond… I think it would help. For you to have that b-baseline.” His words come softly and quickly toward the end, and then he adds, almost inaudibly, “If you didn’t already.”

Luke doesn’t have a good answer. He specifically avoided doing this, because he knows how badly it will fuck him up. But he nods, forcing the easiest smile he can muster, with an, “Of course. I’ll read what they sent tonight. They uhh– they sent some videos, I don’t… I don’t know if I can watch those, Leo. But I can read the file. Anything else?”

Leo looks like he wants to speak, but he shakes his head, tense. “Not right now,” he says softly. There’s a silence that fills the air, as the sun sets over the lake. Leo watches it with heavy eyes, and Luke watches Leo, drinking his coffee slowly.

“Ready to head inside?” Luke eventually asks. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. I know I am.”

Inside, they settle onto the sofa, and Luke turns on the TV, scanning for the first innocuous thing he can find to watch. It’s an old animated movie, but Leo’s eyes are fixed to the screen as he curls himself up tightly.

“Is it okay if I lay down?”

“Of course.” You don’t have to ask that, is what Luke wants to say. He holds it in; it doesn’t feel right. Leo’s eyes are fixed to the screen as he curls himself up tightly, careful as his head dips into the pillow.

Luke tries not to stare at him openly, at how tired he looks. At how sad he looks. He’s eaten dinner, and he’s spoken, and he’s changed his clothes, and they made it through another day.

“I might fall asleep.” Leo’s voice is a whisper, still seeking permission. Luke sips his cold coffee, turns off the light behind him.

“Okay. That’s alright, Leo,” he says. He pulls the blanket from a basket behind the sofa and drapes it over Leo’s too-thin, shaky frame, then takes his place back at Leo’s feet. Leo makes a small sound as his eyes close, his fingers tangle almost violently into the blanket, his grip tight. His breathing evens out, but it’s almost a full hour before the tension leaves his shoulders, and his grip on the blanket finally loosens, and he slips into a light sleep.

✥ ✥ ✥

It’s past midnight; Leo’s still on the couch, clinging to the thin blanket that Luke draped over him. When he was sure that Leo was asleep, Luke stood as carefully as he could and tip-toed to the office, where he folded himself on the floor, curled over his laptop, and began scrolling forums and reading advice columns and just… delaying what he was supposed to be doing.

He starts by reading through the contract, which is the first file in the encrypted folder. It’s all familiar enough to him, so he moves to the next.

He takes a breath as he selects it, unsure of what exactly he’s opening himself up to. It starts innocently enough. A physical profile, a few images. Leo doesn’t smile, but he looks healthier. He moves through them quickly, intent on not overanalyzing them, trying not to really see them at all.

The next file he opens is full of notes on Leo’s training, on what to expect out of him. Luke forces himself to read the list of the most effective reinforcers for him. Below it– he sucks in a sharp breath– what they found to be the most effective disciplinary procedures. Luke’s heart pounds behind his temples as he reads narratives that someone took the time to type into this document, describing how to punish him efficiently, what he’s used to, what he can handle, what he can’t. Knives stab at Luke’s gut over and over and over and over and he closes his eyes, breathing through it.

Once he’s sure he’s not going to vomit, he continues. There are notes on everything. The things Leo likes. Ways to… he closes his eyes again and shakes his head. Another sharp breath, and he forces his eyes back on the screen. His dislikes. His fears. How he responds to various types of touch. Notes on his diet, his medical history. Vaccine records, STI paneling, a list of training he’s received and how he did in that training. He finds himself skimming more and moving quickly past everything, bile rising in his throat. His teeth hurt from the set of his jaw and he clicks through document after document after document, until he’s through the last one.

A sort of calm rage has settled over him, as he carefully closes his computer and sets it to the side. Are all buyers provided with this kind of information? It’s so absolutely, completely fucked, that he doesn’t know where to go from here. His hands are shaking as he leans his back against the wall. He can’t go out there until he has control of himself, until he’s calmer. And so he does the only thing he can think to do. He opens his laptop again and drafts a request for an emergency committee meeting.

He’s okay. Leo. Leo is okay, and Luke will make sure that he stays that way. He can afford to buy Leo’s contract as long as he needs to, and if there comes a time where he can’t, he’ll make alternative arrangements. He doesn’t know exactly how, but there will never be another buyer reading about how to hurt Leo Evans.

TAG LIST: @peachy-panic, @whump-cravings, @afabulousmrtake, @crystalquartzwhump, @maracujatangerine, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @distinctlywhumpthing, @thecyrulik, @highwaywhump, @batfacedliar-yetagain, @batfacedliar, @finder-of-rings, @dont-touch-my-soup, @skyhawkwolf, @suspicious-whumping-egg, @also-finder-of-rings

#institutionalized slavery #references to past abuse #next up: probably a non-chronological comfort ask

107 notes · View notes

greysfall · 3 years

Text

My 4444-word review of NEO TWEWY (with personal illustration + heavy spoilers)

My overall critical score for the game is 7.5/10, while my personal enjoyment score is 8.5/10. This review is posted as I have 80% completed the game, got the secret ending and achieved the Angel psychic rank. I’ll first start with the main pros and cons as follows.

PROS:

- Enjoyable as a whole, still upholding the first game’s spirit in world building and sharing the same backbone - which was mostly revealed in the Secret Reports, it’s impossible to grasp the story without reading them.

- The new cast and new game is charming in their own way

- The old cast’s return is one of the biggest highlights for sure, it was fun and impactful. Everyone stays true to themselves and also had their own stories wrapped up nicely.

- Boss designs are cool, new pins are fun to use and collect

- The connection between the old and new cast is well written and executed, including but are not limited to the tension between the old and new protagonist, the weird but fun interaction between the 2 Composers, the new friendships revealed and formed

- Sho being in the main cast is something so uniquely TWEWY and uniquely Sho

- Still good music

- Still many fun side quests, some of them really uphold the same quirky spirit of the old game and some are surprisingly touching

- Many new nice stores and yummy looking foods to explore

- The map is really easy to memorize for me, it’s fun to travel around the “current” Shibuya to see all the differences compared to the past

- The social network is crazy and interesting to read through

- Has an anti-frustration system to help 100% complete the game more easily and earn money faster, so post-game is relatively managable.

- Overall, I really feel the efforts the team poured into making this as their passion project, not just during the development process but for all the last 14 years. They showed the vision of what they wanted to make, at the same time giving something to both the old as well as new fans.

CONS:

- The biggest problem with the game is scenario writing. The story is so heavily back-loaded. The director himself thought it would be better to balance out the tension flow by adding more at the beginning but gave in to the scenario writer in the end, probably due to time pressure. This results in an underwhelming execution of characterization and lots of wasted potentials for the first half of the game.

- I struggle to view it as a stand-alone game, since the backstory and the old cast both play such an important role in the core of the game. If someone plays this game without having played the OG, they can only enjoy it on surface value at best.

- The new cast is nice but most of them aren’t quite as intriguing as the old cast, maybe it’s cuz they’re all too nice deep down that they lack a little bit of an edge, of that batshit craziness that everyone in the OG used to have? I think some characters (Fret, Nagi) ended up weaker in terms of characterization because the writer is too afraid of making them unlikeable – which kind of backlashed cuz they only became likable in the most expectable way to cater for a specific group of fans. I would have wished for the other team leaders to be more crazy too, had they not suffered 30+ loops of the Game…

- The CAMERAWORK IS HELL.

- Gameplay does get tedious at certain points with all the time travels.

- Shiba is so badly written as a villain, some Shinjuku characters should be given more screentime cutting into Shiba’s– like Hishima or Kaie or even, Hazuki (though his limited presence also solidified his importance).

- Some of the main character designs, for example Beat’s hairstyle and his food reactions are hilariously bad. What’s the point of covering up most of his unique facial features?

- Some of the minor/side characters’ design are too cool for them to have such a small role (eg: Ayano, Eiru). Ryoji did get much screentime but is nowhere as fun as Makoto was.

- Overall the scope of this game is made a little too big for the team to handle as perfectly as the last game that was very compact, it felt somewhat rushed in development too so the missing pieces are clearly there in the final picture

The entry fee versus paying for it all in the end

An important difference between the Neo game and the original Shibuya game was that the Shibuya rule asked for an entry fee that is the Player’s most important asset, stated as a chance the Composer gives them to reexamine themselves. Meanwhile, the Shinjuku rule neither encourages nor allows personal growth and ultimately aims to erase as many Players as possible. It’s a pity we were never introduced to the full Shinjuku rulebook, as it seems like the system there focuses more on building up power and a grand government to compare with the individuality-driven system of Shibuya.

When you have to compare the new game and the original game (OG), this is an important factor to consider. Also, the OG has a serious storyline running through and through, locked with a different partner/GM creating unique atmosphere for each week and you don’t get to see your old partners again until the end. NEO’s team system does not allow such deep insight and communication between the Players. All of your teammates are always there throughout, the dynamic does change with each new addition but it is not as prominent as a partner change.

Another important factor is how the OG was built from scratch for a new platform as “something no one has ever seen before”, while Neo recycled a lot of old unused ideas from the previous development (check out this interview for more details). The development team for NEO lacks 2 key members and had a change of writer so the final product is not as strongly bound together as the last game.

The new cast is definitely inspired by today’s teenagers (from the view of creators), compared to the old cast they’re more sociable and always seem to take whatever works for them despite feeling unstable inside. They are all innocent and genuinely nice kids, avoiding to hurt each other to a degree that they end up keeping some sort of distance. They’re also unable to communicate at deeper levels, always stagnant at this half-baked stage of equilibrium without any motivation to get to the core of things. That is the cost of entering the game without an entry fee, without even dying or having a reason to be there/to fight seriously. These kids were stolen from the RG into a Game that was decidedly the worst environment for them to change or develop, just wandering around cluelessly to find a way “out” until tragedies started to unfold one by one and they ended up being charged the total sum of the price for their actions – ultimately losing everything in the end.

That is, I believe, a story arc which can resonate more to the youth of today rather than of my generation. If the message of the old game was to “listen”, enjoy life to the fullest and accept to trust others, the message of the new game is to “speak up” from the inside, trying to understand yourself and take actions instead of just going with the flow and finally, to take responsibility for such actions.

If Neku was handpicked by the Composer for being the special one with an all-dense soul to ensure victory of the game then Rindo was just a normal kid chosen out of random by Kubo to be his back-up plan, who just happened to have a high enough imagination to awaken the incredible power from his pin. Rindo was then officially chosen by the Composer as Josh picked up and handed the pin to him again, this time not as Josh’s personal Proxy – but as the Proxy to represent the normal people of Shibuya and via whom he could gamble if humans can fight for their own fate.

The underworld heroine and the hero with little of his own

Shoka is for me a refreshing and layered heroine. She’s the kind of character that took at least 3 trials of creators to form as a complete individual – that included Nomura who gave her the base design and Reaper background, Gen who gave a more cunning touch and the writers who made her English dialogues more punchy. Dishonesty equals “tsundere” is such a cliché, so the English writers tried really hard to avoid that trope in my opinion, while still letting her good intention come through.

She serves as the character who is informed of everything the players should have known, and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Almost. Until she met Rindo.

They were drawn to each other by sharing a state of “not having anything of their own”. They both started out with not being able to truly know themselves, Shoka even hated her RG life but also managed to mature from that stage before Rindo. She must have vibed with Shiki’s love and passion in the Gatto Nero threads, initiating her connection with Shibuya and understanding herself more. With Shoka as Swallow, they were able to open up to each other and offer mental support… but was still not getting to the centre of their problems because for all this time, Shoka could not tell Rindo the most important things about herself.

How did Shoka feel when she met Rindo at the UG? She probably didn’t want to hope that he would live the day until she witnessed the Twisters’ potentials. From the very beginning, they were both incredibly conscious of each other and also constantly frustrated that the person they happened to “notice” was such a condescending bitch/a clueless loser. The Shinjuku Reapers are overall quite drunk in power and uncompassionate to Players, Shoka included. She is also a master of dissociation, which results in her constant boredom, tone swings, haughtiness and subconsciously distancing herself from the friend – the boy she cares about – from false hope, as she judged from facts that it was a hopeless situation where nothing could ever be. Maybe she is naturally a bit of a chameleon just like her name suggests (Shoka 紫陽花 = hydrangea, the color-changing flower), so putting on an act and always dissociating herself from what’s important was easy, while hiding her contradiction was impossible. It was the ex-Reaper Beat who broke it out to her, that she should decide whether she really cared and wanted to do something for a change. He knew how it felt like to cross that line, and knew she wanted to too.

Shoka is endeared by many of the Shinjuku Reapers and has shown independent acts of kindness (the Shinjuku ghost), proving that her kind and truthful side is as real as her harsh and dishonest side – which makes her a nice mirror to the previous heroine Shiki, who also embraced a dichotomy of self-complex and self-love within her character. In the end, she was the first of the new cast to ultimately accept all that is important to her and independently made the decision to help save Shibuya despite all costs.

She was jealous at Rindo’s interaction with Tsugumi and Kanon but remained silent cuz she wasn’t at a place to have any say about it. She also didn’t reveal about Swallow because that would only add an awkward irrelevance to their current situation, as she was too ready to face erasure at the end of the Game. She only wished to “play a game” with him, be it FanGo or the Reapers’ Game. The tension that the team could only feel at the end, she’s felt it the entire time. The song “DIVIDE” is applicable to not just one bond in the game, but it always makes me think of theirs. There is always a “divide” between her and Rindo throughout the course of their journey, as the living and the dead, as a Player and Reaper, as someone who has a place to return to and someone who doesn’t, someone who knows little but wields too much power and someone who knows a lot despite not being able to do much.

“If only I had the chance to connect with you on the other side

But time goes on, and without us realizing it

The battle is getting heated

Time goes on, and without us realiazing it

Divided again”

To be honest, maybe I didn’t grow any affection for the new main cast from Rindo’s perspective but from Shoka’s. Since I started to sympathize with Shoka, I started to see the boy in a more “real” way. The real Rindo, behind his peaceful façade with others, would lash out on Shoka for her unfairly harsh attitude while none of the others cared. He could also subtly feel that mantle of unspoken secrets from her, her own contradictions, the unresolved chemistry between themselves – and not knowing what to do with it rather than to feel angry with all the unfairness he could not process. (As a Libra too, he’s triggered the most by unfairness!)

It is actually a positive development as he’s at least “reacting” to something strongly now rather than to keep evading his problems. During my replay, I clearly saw the difficult situation Shoka was in, her remaining harshness after the Motoi incident was due to her internal struggle with a mission to save her own life, versus a chance to really be with the team. Her decision was to do both at the risk of losing favour from both sides. Rindo started to accept her layer by layer, as the person who resonated the most to her contradicting nature from the start and knew that via learning her resolve, he has learnt his too.

Later into the game, she even got too much of his attention. Maybe even without knowing she’s Swallow, he’s familiar with her thinking direction and Swallow had always been closer to him than any other friend. It was only after she had to betray her important ones twice that she could start being truly honest. The scene when she died a 2nd time left a strong impression in me, the little reveal let Rindo know that he is also losing Swallow as he’s losing Shoka – and that only death could drive the last secret out of her. Her final “Later, loser” echoed through Rindo as it was the final truth, with only him remaining to hear it: they had actually, already lost everything.

Rindo was the boy who never dared to face all that matters to him until he lost it all, fighting an unfair battle in the faith that they would somehow still win. Shoka was the girl who always knew what was dear to her, but never dared to think she could be together with them ever after and still threw her all into a battle she knew was losing. I think they stir each other on naturally to fill out their gaps, similar to what the Shibuya game partner systerm would have aimed for. The end reward was a little divine intervention to help close up the divide between them once and for all.

During the game there was not enough space to process anything personal so at the ending when they officially became “friends”, it was an important affirmation of their bond. Some people complained it was friendzoning but it’s not, they just have arrived at the perfect place to start something more. “From now on, we will truly be together” – I read it as that kind of message.

The heroine from a lost battle, with her story taken away

After reading the secret reports and playing the game to be surprised of how small a role Tsugumi had in the main game despite being the “Hype-chan” thought to be a major character of the next TWEWY installment, many fans would feel sad at a missed opportunity to see the Shinjuku arc in full depiction.

It was shown clearly that, a Shinjuku arc was very carefully planned out and is a vital part of the whole story, yet it could not be made due to various circumstances behind the development scene. I would assume, that the team were not able to make a TWEWY game that ended on a despairing note, but it already happened in their mind, thus becoming a mental burden that forced them to break away from it and started the game anew with NEO. A significant part of NEO became the healing arc for the Shinjuku characters, especially for Tsugumi though I really wished more emphasis should have been placed on her rather than Shiba. We didn’t even get to see her brother – Shinjuku’s Conductor who had a vital role and instead was given the clueless Shiba, who had absolutely no idea what’s going on all the way until the last day in NEO. It’s as if Tsugumi has had her story stolen away from her, because her own battle ended with a saddening loss.

I think every time the game creators look at Tsugumi, they would feel that sadness too. Maybe to them, she is a bigger character than what is seen by the fans, as despite their failed effort to depict her story, she’s lived in their mind for all these years through periods of destruction, healing and rebuild. Though it is a pity we could not get to experience the full scope of the Shinjuku story, the creators was clear about the place they wished for it to arrive at.

Individuality, connection and the social network

The team system adapted from Shinjuku rulebook does not allow much room for personal development, as the team dynamic is closer to a work relationship forced to bear results, than a spiritual bond to max out all corners of understanding as found in the partnership system. The old Shibuya system allowed only 1 winner and 1 week limit per game, while the new rule declares for a 1 winning team and only the team at last place will be erased – the other teams will enter another loop. Furthermore, whichever team to challenge the unwinnable Ruinbringers will face the risk of ending up dead last followed by erasure. As a result, the longest-standing teams are most likely not the strongest ever recorded, but the ones who have figured out a strategy to simply survive until something changes, enjoying their newly found social constructs while they are at it. Basically, it is a system to hypnotise players into the illusion that they are still “living”.

Therefore, we as players would not get to the core of each Player individually as fast and directly as we did in the last game. The Twisters were able to stand out not because they’re powerful, they only started to have a real chance after growing enough to each form a meaningful and personal connection to another teammate. It did not come as a team, nor did it intiate from the existing friendship between Rindo and Fret. In fact, I did not find much solidity or anything truly note-worthy about the main team and new characters within themselves until they started clashing with other team members, Reapers and new recruits from week 2 onwards. Rindo found his personal development with Shoka (via a clash with Motoi and pretty much a mini dating sim between them), then via the confrontation of his role with Neku; Fret found his with Kanon then Nagi, the team learned about the real Neku via Beat, Neku entered the UG via Coco’s wish to save Tsugumi… it was not the team but their personal links that empowered them to fight and solve each of their problems.

The other team leaders may have failed because they did not form such personal links, after 30+ hopeless loops Fuya’s team all fell apart to pursue their own interest even at the cost of erasure, Motoi quit his KOL façade to work like a dog for the Reapers (probably to save just his own ass not his team), while Kanon dropped her tricks to find changes via honest cooperation in acceptance of a fair loss. The despairing note in that is huge without making much of a scene because their failure didn’t happen at their best effort to “win”, but in their last attempt to find a way “out”. Even Shiba got his way “out” in the end thanked to his personal friendship with Hishima and Tsugumi.

Something has shifted in the mindset of the game creators in the last 14 years, as both games are about “connection vs individuality” but the last game focuses more on connection between just individuals and this one on the overall network that is formed out of those individual connections.

The introduction of Beat into the main cast was truly the bridge between old and new, they helped each other out in several turns before officially recruiting him. Beat is a character whom a lot of fans including myself have felt somewhat concerned about after Neku disappeared from the RG, so when the new kids welcomed Beat with warm and organic interaction and Beat seemed happy, I started to feel like I wanted to help them out too! I think the overall team chemistry is enjoyable enough for new players, but I could warm up to the new kids more from the pov of a returning character – whom I’m glad to be Beat, as the older brother figure who is genuinely kind, fun, serious and upbeat at the same time; who is needed and needs the kids in return.

The social network is a fun and refreshing feature. You can read all of the crazy tidbits about Shibuya and the links each character have formed with the town people, it’s also fun to visualize how the characters act off screen. Characters’ profiles provide extra insight into their background too, like how it reveals Tsugumi has been friend with Coco during her time in the RG. During the game when not all characters have showed up, you can sometimes guess which empty spot will belong to whom. For example there is a 1 character linking to Neky that is not linked to anyone else, so I could guess that was Joshua, and that another character linking only to Joshua was probably Hazuki, hinting that the 2 Composers are related before either of them even showed up.

Hazuki only showed up for 5 minutes, but his presence is so vital and true to the game that I think he is the most memorable out of the new cast. The two Composers have such an intriguing bond, with their yin/yang or phoenix/dragon themes, opposite color design, the sempai/kouhai tone and the way they keep some sort of distance/work relationship as if it’s mandatory between Higher beings, yet at the same time they can talk so casually because they are truly equal – and different from one another. I have written a separate meta on them here.

Some people pointed out, that all Shinjuku characters’ names and themes are based off Hanafuda cards and the Phoenix in Hanafuda belongs to the Paulownia suit – which is Joshua’s name flower. This is so interesting because it feels like the creators somehow saw it as a sign to interweave the Shibuya and Shinjuku storylines together. Though it doesn’t come out much on the surface, it’s fascinating nonetheless considering both Josh and Haz had at some point interfered with the other town’s affairs.

“Shibuya tour with Haz” was such a special scene, as it happened between 2 characters who do not/no longer have a reason to care about Shibuya, on the subject of what is worth saving about Shibuya. Hazuki carried out the purification of Shinjuku and stepped in to restore Shibuya just as part of his job and unlike Hanekoma or Joshua who both possess profound understanding of humanity, he really didn’t know humans at all. Rindo’s irrational wish invoked in him a sense of curiosity, to try gambling on something irrationally and learning a bit of what his senior have experienced. With all the pieces put together, it provides an overview on Higher beings as a whole, and that Joshua and Hanekoma are really the odd ones out with Hazuki being somewhere in between them and the rest.

The old friends

It’s easy to have returning characters overshadow the new cast as they have already matured out of their personal story arc and stayed in our hearts for all this time. In the end, I have managed to enjoy both the old and new cast separately and altogether, and they will both find their own place in our memory of this game for the long term.

Sho is truly as crazy as ever, the game wouldn’t be the same if Sho is any less of what he is. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like Neky or Beat is younger than Nagi at all, with moments when it seems like Neky has aged 14 years instead of 3 years. His friendship with Coco surprised me pleasantly, and their interaction together with Beat was fun to watch. Rhyme’s found a new dream and her friendship with Kaie is precious too, especially considering that she can still talk to him online after the game ended. Josh and Neku’s interaction suggested that they have resolved the past and are on equal terms now, they even parted ways in good spirit and I don’t feel any worry about them like I did before.

Neku and Shiki’s reunion scene was beautiful, theirs is such a special bond that it has grown and supported them even without being able to see each other. I am so happy to see them all again and that they stay true to who they are, albeit looking more grown up, cooler and happier than ever before.

Overall, NEO can’t become a classic on par with the OG, but is definitely a good sequel and a good game in its own rights. I’m happy with whether or not there will be a 3rd game to complete the 3 monkeys theme, but if there will be – I hope the creators can really find the time to learn from the last 2 games and start over with a fresh mindset and strong core.

#neotwewy #neotwewyspoilers #ntwewy #ntwewy spoilers #neo the world ends with you #twewy #review #meta #neo twewy #shoka sakurane #rindo kanade #tsugumi matsunae

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Protective Detail (21/?)

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, very mild angst

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Y’all. Alright so I know it’s been approximately 5 million years since I’ve updated this story. But. Here we are nonetheless. That being the case, this is partially a filler/setup chapter, partially me getting back into the swing of this fic. I think about it constantly and I do have stuff planned for it down the road so please bear with me. Love you. xo

Chapter Index

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It'd been a few days since the conversation with your father. You’d gone to see him the next day to get the money in order, and after that it was just a few quick meetings and the last of the paperwork. For all intents and purposes, you were now part-owner in what was going to be a very quickly growing business empire. It was hard to wrap your head around it, but you knew the reality of it would be settling in very soon. Slowly getting out of the current phase of your life was going to be tough, and a little heartbreaking the way that moving on always is, but you knew that there was no going back on it now.

You’d spent your entire shift trying to figure out how to talk to Jade about it. You knew that never in a million years would she give you a hard time about it. Truthfully, you were more upset about giving all of this up than she probably was going to be. Change was hard, and so much of it was happening all at once.

“Hey, Jade,” you started, trying to summon up the courage to tell her everything that was going on, “Can we talk for a minute?”

Concern flashed across her face and she nodded, setting her rag to the side, “Always. What’s going on, baby?”

You sighed, leaning over the counter of the bar as you faced her, “I, uh. I got a job offer.”

“Oh?” the surprise was evident on her face—this clearly wasn’t where she thought the conversation was going.

“Yea,” you nodded, “It’s, um, it’s one I can’t really refuse.”

Her expression fell—she knew that it had to do with your father, “What kind of offer?”

“A good one,” you admitted, although there was still hollowness in your tone as you tried to mentally process all the changes that were coming your way, “Couple of guys my father works with opening up a bar a couple towns over. They need a partner who is willing to manage things on a day-to-day basis as they expand. Gonna help them build it from the ground up. If that goes well, that’s going to essentially be what I do for any other establishments we put up, and then I’ll start being in charge of some of the bigger picture stuff once I get in the swing of it all,” as you said it all out loud, it made you realize that you were basically set for the short and long term as long as you stuck with it and everything played out the right way. There was a strange sense of security in it, “They want me to start next week.”

“Shit,” she nodded, clearly impressed, “that’s great.”

“Yea. Still don’t wanna leave here, though,” you let out a tired laugh, “Think you could come with me?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “If only,” she paused, “But this is gonna be good for you, Y/N. Unfortunately, I think we all knew that this,” she motioned back and forth between the two of you, “was never a permanent fix. There were always much larger pieces in this chess game.”

You nodded, knowing that she was right. This was a nice pitstop on your way to your final destination. She walked around and grabbed two glasses, pouring whiskey into both before handing one to you and walking back to her seat on the other side of the bar. The two of you clinked them together before taking a sip. You cringed, never having gotten used to the taste of it.

“You’re gonna be fine, you know,” she said, seeing the sadness and apprehension in your features, “You know I’d love to keep you here forever, but this is gonna be a real good thing for you.”

“I hope so,” you traced your finger around the edge of your glass.

A few moments of silence passed and then Jade spoke up, “I figured I’d have more time to wait you out and pick your brain. But since that’s not the case…mind if I ask you something?”

You smiled, nodding, “Ask away.”

“What happened with you and your bodyguard?” she gestured to the stool he used to sit on.

You shrugged, trying to downplay the situation, “He got reassigned.”

She gave you a look that let you know you couldn’t bullshit your way out of it, “C’mon. That was more than a professional relationship. I could see it and I only ever saw you guys a few nights a week.”

You smiled as you stared down into your glass, “It was stupid. I was stupid.”

“That doesn’t sound quite right.”

You looked up at her, managing a quiet laugh despite the tears in your eyes, “Alright, maybe stupid isn’t the right word. He and I just had different expectations, I guess. I wanted more than he could give. I just…got in a little over my head.”

She chuckled, “That sounds a little more like you,” she reached over and rested her hand on top of yours, “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, quickly wiping the tears from the edges of your eyes, “It’s okay. It’s probably for the best, right? Considering all the larger chess pieces.”

Jade nodded but you could tell that her heart wasn’t in it. The two of you finished off your drinks and went back to cleaning up the bar. There was a lot to wrap your heads around. The rest of the night passed in silence, and you could feel that Jade was watching you to make sure that you were alright.

As the two of you left and locked up, you could tell that there were a lot of things that Jade wanted to say to you but wouldn’t. She knew that there was a lot that she didn’t know about your father and what he did, and she tried very hard to keep it that way for her own sake. You knew that, too, which is why you never told her more than the absolute minimum. It was one thing for you to accept the weight of the realities of your father’s life, of his world, but it was another to put that on someone else who had worked so hard to build a legitimate life for herself the way that Jade had. Despite all of that, though, she had always been willing to listen and advise the best that she could. There were so few people in your world like that.

“I know my opinion might not mean much,” she said as you walked out into the parking lot, “But if you were to ask for it, I would tell you that you’re gonna figure all of this out. It’s a lot, but you’re going to make it work.”

You smiled, “You’re too kind.”

“Not that kind,” she laughed, “You know the only thing that your father ever asked of me when I hired you, was that I look out for you while you were here,” she nudged your shoulder, “which I would have done anyway even if I had no idea who he was. I hope you know that you’re still my friend. Always will be. You are always welcome to come back here or reach out to me, no matter where you end up.”

You hugged her, “Thank you, Jade. I really appreciate everything that you’ve done for me.”

She held you tight for a moment, “Of course. You still coming in for your last few shifts?”

You pulled back, smiling, “Hell yea. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

She laughed and nodded, “Alright, then I’ll see you soon. Stay out of trouble.”

Climbing into your car, you rested your head back against the seat with a sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jade getting into her own car. It hit you that it was going to be one of the last times you were going to be in that situation, or even in that parking lot at all. You had less than one week left of pretending that you led any semblance of a normal life. With a slight shake of your head, you tried not to think too far into the future and instead turned the key in the ignition, beginning your trek home.

Sitting in your father’s office the following afternoon, you sat with him going over the plans that had been given to you by Jude and Raymond. It was a short-term timeline to help things get off the ground as quickly as possible. It was the perfect paper trail, and if you and your father played it right, it would feed directly into what your longer-term plans were.

“They said that renovations should be done by the end of the week,” you told him as you idly tapped your pen on the paper, “Just gotta start hiring staff.”

“You’re in charge of that?”

You nodded, “For the most part. There are a couple people that they already guaranteed jobs to, which I’m not going to argue with. If it doesn’t work out, though, I told them already that leaving me in charge of day-to-day means that I get to decide if someone’s getting axed.”

Your father chuckled, “Setting expectations early on?”

“Don’t look surprised—you taught me that,” you smiled.

There were a few moments of silence between you before your father spoke up, “You’re still comfortable with this? I realize that it’s not hypothetical anymore, and that can change things.”

You nodded, “I’m alright. Really. Just,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “trying to wrap my head around how I’m supposed to be interviewing these people for what they think are legitimate jobs when really all it is, is—”

“They are legitimate jobs,” he didn’t let you finish the thought, “Everything they’ll be doing is perfectly legal. What goes on behind the scenes, off the books, during transports, that’s nothing that is going to impact them.”

You waited for him to meet your gaze so he could see the look of disbelief on your face, “Papí, por favor,” you sighed as you leaned back in your chair, “se honesto.”

He chuckled, “Basta, mija,” he shook his head, “This is business. This is how it all works. The less they all know, the better.”

“Right,” you took a deep breath, “Anyway. Besides the plans, is there anything else you need from me for now?”

“I don’t think so,” he glanced over the paperwork on his desk, “You’re going to be operating almost exclusively with Raymond and Jude for the time being. Once things settle and start to go no the rise, we’ll have to sit and work some things out.”

There was a brief pause before you asked the question that you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “How closely will I be working with Galindo?”

He knew it was coming, “You’re running in the same circles as him now, Y/N. You can’t get out of that.”

“I’m not trying to. I’m just…I’m trying to prepare myself.”

It was true. You needed to know what you were in for, how often you were going to have to speak with him and work with him. At face value, it didn’t seem like your business and Miguel’s would have any crossover, but as soon as you crossed into illegitimate territory, all the lines got blurred. He and your father had ironed out a lot of things over the years, but adding you into the mix meant that everything was going to get reworked.

And, while all of those were true and perfectly valid concerns, you knew that any time you had to see Miguel, you were most likely going to have to see Nestor. And that put a knot in your stomach unlike anything else.

“It’s not something you need to be concerned about yet. But, I won’t lie to you, there is going to be a period of reconfiguring. After that, as long as things run smoothly, you won’t have to see him more than a couple times a month,” he watched your expression intently.

You let out a quiet, hollow chuckle, “As long as things run smoothly. Right.”

“I have faith that you will run things well. If for no other reason, than to avoid him,” there was an amused look in his eyes and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Spite is one hell of a motivator, huh?”

“I can’t encourage it, but,” he paused, “yes.”

There was a soft smile on your face as you stood up from your chair and started stacking all of your papers together. Truthfully, a lot of what you’d gone over with him could’ve been done over the phone, but there was a sense of comfort in having the discussions in person while you were still acclimating to things. He wouldn’t always be there to guide you through it so closely, but you were going to take the assistance while you could get it. Plus, he didn’t seem to mind it at all, just glad that you were going to be in it with him 100%.

“I’ll keep you posted if anything changes,” you packed up your folders into your bag, “But other than that, I’ll see you at the grand opening.”

True, beaming smiles from your father weren’t exactly common, but he had one at that statement. He nodded, “You will.”

Walking around to his side of the desk, you leaned and kissed him on the cheek, “Cuídate, Papí. Te quiero.”

“Tú también. Te quiero,” he gave you a slight nod before you turned and made your way out of his office.

You were carefully shutting the door behind you when you heard a set of footsteps getting closer. Your natural assumption was that it was someone who worked in the house, so you didn’t pay it too much mind. Your focus was on the bag hanging from your shoulder as you dug around for your car keys. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped and you felt someone staring at you, that you forced yourself to look up and see who it was.

Fighting the urge to sigh, you set your shoulders back and met Miguel’s gaze. You didn’t say anything, didn’t give any nod of form of acknowledgment besides the unwavering eye contact. You had no interest in speaking with him, so you weren’t going to be the one to initiate conversation. It hit you that he was probably there to discuss some of the same things with your father that you’d just finished talking about—trying to piece together what things were going to look like moving forward. You were thankful that your father hadn’t thrown the three of you all in a room together just yet. A degree or two of separation was probably best for the time being.

There was a beat of silence and you took that as your cue to leave, so you simply stepped to the side and continued walking towards the front of your father’s house. You were a few strides past him when he finally spoke up, and it didn’t surprise you at all that he’d waited.

“Looking forward to working with you, Y/N,” he remarked.

You didn’t bother to look back at him, “Oh, I’m sure.”

Part of you expected to hear his footsteps catching up to you again, but the house was silent save for your own. Relief flooded through you as you made your way out. As you opened the front door of the house, you were momentarily blinded by the flood of sunlight. All those years of living there, and you never remembered how tinted your father’s windows were. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your sunglasses and put them on so you wouldn’t trip and stumble down the front steps.

You were reaching for the handle of the back door to your car when you felt a pair of eyes on you. Turning around, you saw Nestor standing outside of Miguel’s SUV. His phone was in his hand, and clearly he had been doing something on it before he saw you, but whatever it had been fell to the wayside instantly when he saw you coming out the door.

He looked exactly like he had the first day he’d brought you home—all business. Despite the fact that he had his business clothes on, with his holsters and those damn yellow shades, it was hard to look at him and not see the version of Nestor you’d gotten so comfortable with inside the walls of your house. He looked so put together, the way you’d expect the head of security for a cartel to look, but you knew better.

It was clear on his face that he had to force the words out, but he wasn’t going to let you leave without saying something, “All good?”

You took a breath as you nodded, opening the back door of your car, “All good,” you tossed your bag onto the seat before turning back to him, “You?”

He gave a small shrug as he nodded, “I’m here.”

There was no real sincerity to the laugh that made its way out, “Apparently it’s the place to be. Reminds me that I need to turn that guest room into a home office.”

A smirk was tugging at the edge of his mouth, “Might not be the worst idea.”

You could feel the urge to continue the conversation starting to build, and you knew that you couldn’t handle that. You had no idea when you would be able to handle it, but not yet. You shut the back door before stepping forward and opening the front door to slide into the driver’s seat. Nestor knew exactly what you were doing, and whatever shred of enjoyment he’d had slipped away just as quickly as it’d come.

“Stay safe, Nes,” it was the most genuine thing you could offer up without letting things drag on.

He nervously toyed with the phone in his hands as he nodded, “You too.”

It took everything in you to not look in your rearview at him when you started to drive away. There were far too many other things to worry about for the time being to be bothered with old situations that weren’t going to change. Or, at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself until your father’s house faded from view.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #protective detail #multichapter #chapter 21 #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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bleachhaven · 3 years

Text

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 5/6

Author’s Note:

It should be noted that this story is almost coming to a close...I’m sad to stop writing about Shunsui but it’s time to wrap this one up. So there’s maybe 1 or 2 more parts left.

Warning: A bit of smut ahead. One can only be seduced endlessly for so long without something happening about it.

–

Read Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 and Part 4 first!

Uncharacteristically, Shunsui was late to arrive at the office. It was almost ten in the morning when he finally strolled in. Nanao would have admonished him without a thought but the dark circles beneath his eyes revealed he had already had a terrible night. She didn’t want to make it a terrible morning as well.

Shunsui didn’t have the excuse of drunken debauchery at some late night party for his tardiness. The last party he’d been to had been Lisa-chan’s Valentine’s Day celebration and that was over two weeks ago.

It was more or less about how his loneliness and melancholy had kept him up late into the night. Something he definitely didn’t want to burden sweet Nanao-chan about.

He had found himself strolling randomly in seireitei at around three in the goddamn morning because simply staying in his bed staring at his ceiling felt impossible. He didn’t have these kind of difficult nights too often but when he did have them, they were quite terrible.

Sure, he missed Juu. But his loneliness was a bit more than that this time.

It has been over two weeks since he had received anything from his beloved Secret Admirer. Fourteen whole days of complete silence from her was quite unusual, and he felt it acutely. Where was she?

The darkest of thoughts had plagued him at night. What if she was sent on a dangerous mission? What if she had been injured? He hated to think it...but what if she was never coming back? Hadn’t he honestly lost enough?

The thoughts spiraled as the evening progressed into the wee hours of the morning, growing darker and more melancholy.

He knew he was not the greatest catch in the Soul Society. That title fell to Byakuya, uncontested. Shunsui was older than everyone in seireitei - a thousand years too old, he’d say. He was nobility too but he wasn’t one to truly fit into that mould, which deterred most noblewomen from considering him.

He wasn’t what one would call conventionally handsome either. He knew he wasn’t ugly...but he wasn’t exactly...whole. Not anymore. Maybe once he would have held some appeal and he had many lovers who thought him handsome enough to have a tumble with him... but the eyepatch never failed to remind him that he was never going to be good looking, by anyone’s standards, with a goddamn hole in his face.

Most days, none of this would honestly bother him. But last night it did.

His beloved Secret Admirer probably came to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth all the trouble after all. Surely, there had to be a reason why he had never been able to have a long term relationship. He blamed it on his job but...was that all it was? Maybe he was just not meant to have a happily ever after with someone.

As romantic as he was, he didn’t really believe in the concept of happily ever after. He knew relationships were work. It was a commitment between two people who cared about each other to work on staying together through whatever. With time, he had put any thoughts of a relationship on the back burner. With his duty to the Gotei 13, and his responsibilities as well as the added burden of maintaining his reputation as the Soutaicho...it was a practical choice.

But his Secret Admirer had made him want. Had made him yearn for a happily ever after for himself in a way he never had before.

He wanted to be loved and cherished as much as he wanted to love and cherish that one special person in his life. But did he really deserve it?

He knew it was her silence that had his latent insecurities rising to the surface keeping him up at night.

So as sleep deprived as he was, he came to the office with a plan. He couldn’t bear her silence anymore so he was not going to. With everything that had come up in the office, he hadn’t been able to finish up the letter he had started to write to her. At that time, it had felt futile considering there was no way to send it to her.

But he had a brilliant idea. He would have it published in the next installment of the Seireitei Communication including just enough information so that she would know it’s him while withholding enough details to still keep it anonymous. He could trust Hisagi-kun to be discreet.

He had a plan, and it could actually work!

If only he could actually find that bit of lavender paper he had left on his desk.

“Nanao-chan, did you remove anything from my desk by any chance?” he asked, opening up drawers and bending down to check under the desk.

Nanao looked up from the training schedule she was working on. “Nothing more than the usual paperwork. Why what have you lost now?” she asked with an overexaggerated sigh.

“My, my, Nanao-chan. You make it sound like I lose things on a daily basis.”

“The only thing lost on a daily basis around here is my sanity,” she said, rolling her eyes. Still she relented. A distressed Taicho always meant a distressed Nanao. “Fine. Describe it to me and I will tell you if I saw it anywhere.”

“It was nothing official. Just a bit of lavender paper I had been writing on…” he trailed off seeing the look on her face. “What? Did you see it?”

“You lost the letter you were writing to you Secret Admirer?” she asked.

“Nanao-chan! How did you…?”

“You forget, Taicho,” she said quite matter of factly. “There’s nothing that goes on here I don’t know about. But I haven’t seen it. Maybe it got mixed up in some paperwork and got sent to another division. I don’t think anyone would recognize your flowery handwriting which you reserve for your personal correspondence anyway. So nothing to worry about.”

Shunsui simply stared at her. He has known his little fuktaicho for too long to not notice that something was off. All this time, he thought she was just laughing at his expense because he was mooning over someone he didn’t even know. But now...that look...the way she said it without even having to think about it...it all felt fishy somehow. Nanao-chan was up to something.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she huffed, correcting the papers on her desk that didn’t need correcting. A nervous habit that always gave her away. “If you don’t have any serious work, I have a pile of forms…”

“You know perfectly well who it is, don’t you, Nanao-chan?” he interrupted her attempts to distract him.

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“Please, Nanao-chan. It’s perfectly obvious you know exactly what I am talking about. Just...tell me…” he said.

He was so serious and intent. Nanao had only ever seen him like that in the heat of the worst kind of battle. She dropped her pretenses as well.

“She and I have both left enough breadcrumbs for you as it is. So if you’re so desperate to know who she is, why don’t you do the work to actually find out?” she asked him. “Clearly the girl cares about you but is terrified to approach you. Who wouldn’t be considering who you are and the position you hold. She is a nice girl, Taicho. But as things stand, she wouldn’t be the one to approach you so maybe you should find out for yourself who she is and do the approaching.”

So Nanao did indeed know who his Secret Admirer was. He understood her reasons why she couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t really her secret to divulge. Shunsui had to respect that despite his desperation.

“Is my sweet Nanao-chan giving her taicho dating advice?” he teased instead.

“Yes, I am,” she declared with a raised brow. “For even I can see how far you’ve fallen that you need advice from me to get yourself a date!”

Shunsui gasped, buying into the friendly teasing. “Nanao-chan is so mean to her taicho!”

Finally, they both got back to work, but Shunsui’s mind was still thinking about what Nanao had said. Apparently breadcrumbs were laid out and he hadn’t even noticed! He clearly had to pay more attention.

He tried to outline the facts in his mind.

The letters were always lemon scented. It could be a shampoo or some kind of scented cream...but it smelled fresh, almost as if unintentional. Something to further ponder upon.

The gifts were always elaborate but simple and he hadn’t been able to trace it through any vendor. The chocolates were handmade so his little Secret Admirer was probably very good with cooking and baking.

The handwriting was very distinctive as well. Especially the way she looped all her Ls and Bs with a distinctive flowy curve.

So far, the facts didn’t fit well into place to identify her as anyone he knew...but somehow, it felt like it was just barely within reach now. As if it’s only missing one final puzzle piece for the whole thing to come together.

That night, sleep evaded him once more. He couldn’t deny it. He missed her! He couldn’t help but wishing that she was right next to him, romancing him with more than just her words. He wished he could cherish her in all the ways he desperately yearned to.

He took the letters he kept at hand in the drawer of his bedside table. He found that he liked to read them sometimes, and no matter how many times he read her words, they still managed to make him feel things. The shape of her words, the texture of the paper...it comforted him.

However, the sensual seductive ones were his downfall.

With all the time he has been alive, and all the experience he’s had, one would think he would be able to resist the temptation. But he often couldn’t.

Reading those letters, describing how she wanted to make love under the moonlight or how she yearned to taste him...it had him imagining soft feminine hands touching him. His hand would unconsciously reach into his hakama of its own volition and grasp his manhood, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by someone who ardently wanted to please him.

It wouldn’t take him too long at all. He would cum, gasping into the empty bedroom, wishing he had a name he could moan. Wishing she was here for him to hold.

Sated, he’d finally fall asleep. Yet though his body was satisfied, his mind wasn’t. He couldn’t help but feel alone on this big empty bed.

That coveted final piece of the puzzle arrived as, of all things, more paperwork. He was mindlessly flipping through some reports after lunch the next day when it popped out at him like well-lit beacon.

It wasn’t anything special. Just a request for more funds to be allocated for a better training ground for the 13th division. Except it was filled out by his beloved Secret Admirer. The handwriting screamed her identity at him, looping Ls and Bs and all.

“_____-san,” he whispered to himself, wondering how he could have missed it.

Suddenly, everything was perfectly crystal clear.

Everyone knew that while Kuchiki Rukia settled in enough to pick her own fuktaicho, the 3rd seat of the 13th was acting in that role in an unofficial capacity, putting her in-charge of all the paperwork coming and going from that division. A reason why she was always showing up at the 1st...giving her ample opportunities to learn his habits well enough to leave behind those delightful missives without ever getting caught.

The lemon scent was from all the lemonade he knew she made for her division and for some special occasions in the seireitei. It was her specialty, a way of creating comfort and homeliness for her subordinates. He had tasted her chocolates twice - once at the Valentine’s Day party itself and then when she gifted them to him specifically. Both facts which had been pointed out by Nanao-chan while _____-san stood right next to him. No wonder she had flushed red then. It hadn’t been out of embarrassment but possibly from thinking she might get caught. The little minx.

He couldn’t help but remember every encounter he had with her in the recent past. Her cute blushes...the way she gasped out “Soutaicho!” Come to think of it, every time he saw her, he felt like she almost called him Shunsui out of habit only to change it to his official title at the last minute. He even recalled the twinkle in her eyes every time she looked up at him.

He couldn’t believe it. He finally knew who his Secret Admirer was and she’d been right before his eyes, had he only known where to look. He couldn’t help smiling, thinking about all the ways he would get back at her for running him around in circles. He would torture her so, so deliciously…

“You have that dopey smile on your face. Should I be worried?” Nanao asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm…? Of course not, Nanao-chan,” he said, not really reassuring her at all. “I am heading out. Be back soon!”

“Taicho!” she called out but he was already gone.

...to be continued.

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after-witch · 3 years

Text

Rest Your Head (Baby Mine Part 2) [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Rest Your Head (Baby Mine Part 2) [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve given Overhaul a lot to think about since your attempted escape. He owes it to you--and your daughter--to help you recover.

Word Count: 1311

Notes: Yandere, kidnapped, abuse, Overhaul POV

Well, you stopped screaming. That was a start.

Although he had to admit, it was likely due to your throat turning sore and raw from overuse, rather than you actually calming down. He mentally added honey and tea to the list of things to give you, though not right away. You needed to know that he was upset, and that this wasn’t something he was going to brush over with gracious leniency like your complaints about homeschooling and your defense of a (dirty, disease-ridden) sandbox in the back yard.

You disappointed him.

He loved you, he protected you, he provided you with a home and a family and structure--and you disappointed him so severely that for a few brief moments after confronting you, he’d hurt you.

It was a blip. Nothing more. A base physical instinct, borne out of his line of work, clearly--it vanished as quickly as it came, as quickly as his hands tightened around your arm. It brought him no catharsis to hurt you. But he can still feel the way his fingers tightened, feel the reverberating thrum of anger that rushed through him when you said words that hadn’t crossed your lips in years: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

You meant it. No, he corrects himself. You think you meant it. Something had obviously been growing inside you over the years, undetected sticky layers of residue that coated the love you had readily embraced, until there was nothing left but nonsensical hatred and a desire to leave.

To leave him--and to take his child, your child, our child--away, too. A double blow. A cruelty he didn’t think you were capable of, a cruelty clearly borne not out of your real self but this false, selfish double of you that had been slipping under his covers unnoticed.

He can’t imagine even looking at those covers right now. The office was more than a necessity in his early steps for planning your recovery--he’d pulled the sofa bed out, intent to sleep on it for the time being. The idea of sleeping alone in that wide bed, your marriage bed, seemed daunting. The thought of rolling over in his sleep and not feeling you there brought prickles to his skin.

He wishes you were here to wipe the ghosts of tears from his cheeks, as he’s so often done for you. But you’re in no state, emotionally or otherwise, to take on any additional emotional burdens.

He taps on the tablet screen and zooms in to get a closer look at you. It was important to monitor you after such a traumatic, dramatic event, after all.

You’re curled up on the narrow cot he generously provided you with, arms tucked in close to your chest, face staring and vacant and tear-streaked. You need to brush your hair, but it will have to wait; the room is bare and minimal, not only for its intended usage (punishment) but for your safety as well. There’s no telling what you might do in such a hysterical mindset.

The sight is upsetting, to say the least.

You look so much like you used to, when he brought you home (your first home with him, the little suite and not this suburban place, a sprawling palace by comparison) for the first time. Bitter and sad and empty. You would curl up in bed and cry and feel sorry for yourself, until that became too tiring and you started to pick yourself up bit by bit. Reading a book. Doing some exercises. Asking for entertainment in hushed, clipped tones, because you were bored-thank-you-very-much.

And then, later on, as you recovered your senses, as you recognized that what he did was for the best--talking to him, sitting down with him at meals, and eventually meekly asking to stay in his office. And up and up, until you were finally who you were meant to be. His.

You’d had your setbacks over the years, of course. Melt downs and regressions. Clenched fists and arguments. You could be so hysterical, sometimes, so out of sorts. But it was nothing he hadn’t been able to help you recover from. Nothing he couldn’t pull you out of, his hands on your shoulders and wiping your tears, offering his better judgement when you’d lost your way. You were a fragile thing. You needed reminders. You needed correction. You needed him.

Yet… you’d tried to leave him. No, not just leave him. Sever him in half. Sever his heart and body and soul, taking what was his away like it was nothing.

This was no petty setback, no insignificant trip-on-a-rug stumble in your journey. Could even he help you recover from this?

It was more complicated, now. His mind flits to your daughter, curled up in her bed, clenching her teddy bear with a furious energy. She took hours to fall into a fitful sleep, which came as no surprise after the turbulent events you’d put her through. Were you even thinking of her when you’d put this harebrained scheme into motion? Again, his brain flashes to the insidious selfish double that your mind had created over the years. You would never put your delusions above your daughter. You would never try to tear her away from her father. You would never try to leave him. You appreciated him. You deferred to his better judgement. You loved him.

Clearly--unfortunately, so very unfortunately--he needed to remind you of all that.

He sighs, and his duties and your needs and the years of cultivation all weigh heavy on his shoulders. The key he’d retrieved earlier is pressed into his palm, leaving a sharp imprint. Would he use it? It was something he’d considered doing ever since his daughter told him about your plans, fidgeting with her shirt and whispering, tears rolling down her little cheeks as she confessed your wrongdoings but-please-don’t-be-mad-at-mama.

He’s not mad at you. No, he’s just sad.

After hearing the words leave his daughter’s lips, he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, truly he did. Wanted to see if you were just having a bit of mania, a bad day, a wild dream. But as the days waned and your daughter brought up every detail, everything you’d told her with a finger hush-hush to your lips, it became clear that it wasn’t going to subside on its own

He would have to stop you. He would have to step in. As he’s done before, when you faltered.

You’d never fallen this far, however, and he can’t deny the way his stomach churns at the loss of years.

With reluctance, he slides the key into the drawer and turns it. The lock clicks, soft from lack of use. Inside lay the needles, the syringes, all waiting in case you needed to be sedated through more intense treatment. In case you were frenzied and wild, unable to think rationally.

He hadn’t used them on you in a long time. He would need to weigh you again, to make sure the dosage was correct after all these years. He hated to do it. He really did. But if you wanted a chance at recover, if you wanted a chance to better yourself, if you wanted to reunite with the child you’d created together and take those little steps out of the room and back into your life, then he needed to make the tough decisions for you.

He knew what was best for you, in the end.

#yandere overhaul #yandere chisaki kai #overhaul x reader #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes #just a lil interlude with his POV

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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years

Text

darkest truths : s.r

returning from his time in prison, spencer joins you and the team on a mission that takes a darker turn than you could’ve imagined. (2k)

darkest truths / brightest lies

all my links

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

Everyone was a tad nervous for Spencer to return, yet despite the team's anticipation to watch him walk through the glass doors to the bullpen, a few kept a close eye on you.

“Todays the day, huh?” Penelope nudges you, snapping you from your deep thought about the situation in hand.

Spinning in your chair, you hum in response. “Yeah, today is the big day.” You laugh lightly, but Penelope as always can see straight through you.

Tutting under her breath, she perches herself on the edge of your desk. “What is it? You didn’t have a fight or something last night?” Penelope asks, but you shake your head.

“No, we, we’re good, I promise you.” You reach out, resting your hand on her arm as you listen to a long sigh of relief from Penelope. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, but nothing I can’t handle.” You assure her, wanting to move the topic onward.

“Thank the heavens for that,” She rises to her feet happily. “I can’t have my forbidden lovers at a loss.” Penelope dramatically claims before a gasp sounds from her.

Leaning back, you catch sight of the reason for her gasp; Doctor Spencer Reid returning to the bullpen, something no one thought was a possibility for a short while.

“You’re back!” Penelope yells as she rushes over, enveloping Spencer into a tight hug.

Spencer hugs Penelope back, patting her back as he looks over at you with a small smile. You knew he was nervous about returning, he’d been up half the night talking to you over the phone as he rearranged his book collection for the twelfth time.

Quickly, everyone welcomed Spencer back with open arms. JJ was the last to greet him, having a quiet word before glancing over to you. “Don’t leave her waiting any longer, Spence.” JJ mutters to Spencer, patting his arm as she smiles your way.

Rising to your feet, Spencer hovers in front of you. “Welcome back, Doctor Reid.” You chuckle, even after all these years, some things never do change.

“It’s good to be back, Y/l/n.” He tells you, his hand reaching out for yours as he squeezes it lightly. “Thank you for last night, and staying on the phone.” Spencer mutters, feeling you squeeze his hand back for a moment.

“Anytime, Spence. You know that.” You whisper back, hugging him briefly just as Emily emerges from her office.

“I hate to say it now, but we’ve got a case.” She announces, and you all quickly file into the conference room.

Taking your seats, Spencer sits beside you as Penelope places all your files down. “Can’t say this is the warm welcome I expected to be giving to the good Doctor himself but seems serial killers refuse to take a day off.” Penelope states as she picks up her remote.

Shuffling forward in your seat, you watch closely, oblivious to Spencer glancing out of the corner of his eye. Yet, despite your lack of knowledge, Rossi could see it clearly. Spencer could barely take his eyes off of you, admiring the concentration as your brows furrow together, the determination and focus in your gaze as you listen intently to Penelope. Truth be told, Spencer missed it, more than he allows to let on.

“Today you’ll be heading to Beavercreek, Ohio. Within the past week, there have been three separate homicides. All three victims have yet to be identified and were found with eight gunshot wounds, one of which in the head, killing them.” Penelope shudders as you all look through the case files.

“Shot execution-style, efficient.” You comment, looking at the photos of the two male victims found on the outskirts of town, dumped with their ankles and wrists bound.

“Do we have any leads?” Tara asks, and Emily steps in.

“Since we have yet to identify our John and Jane Does, we’re going based on missing person reports within the past twelve months. These victims were all taken and killed recently, so our unsub isn’t keeping them long. Wheels up in thirty.” Emily explains. “Oh, Y/n, mind if I have a word?” She asks, exiting the room as she heads to her office.

“Someones in trouble.” Luke jokes as you roll your eyes, but Spencer glances over as a look of concern crosses his expression.

“It’s fine, Spence.” You assure him. “You go ahead, I’ll be right behind.” You smile to him as he exits the conference room with JJ whilst you make your way over to Emily’s office.

“I know this is Spencer’s first day back, but I wanted to ask how you are.” Emily states as she gathers her things whilst you hover in the doorway.

Smiling softly, you nod. “I, I’m good.” You tell her, but Emily raises a brow, clearly unconvinced. “I promise, Em. I’m doing fine.”

“Okay,” She sighs, walking toward you. “but if there’s any change, you have to let me know, alright?”

“You got it, boss.” You salute to her as you both exit her office, catching up with the rest of the team as you enter the elevator.

Standing in the ME’s office, the sight before you made your stomach churn.

Usually, these sort of sights never had an effect on you, but something this time is different.

“Hey, you okay in there?” JJ asks, resting her hand on your arm as you snap from your daze as you stare at the bullet hole in the centre of the forehead, wishing that it was the only bullet hole on the John Doe.

“Sorry,” You mumble. “lost in thought for a second.” You clear your throat, stepping closer to the John Doe as you bend over, taking a closer look at the bruising on the wrists from the ropes. “So these victims were tied up, restrained and then shot seven times in the torso and once in the head?”

JJ walks over with the ME’s report in hand. “Actually,” JJ trails off and you stand up now, looking at her as her brows furrow. “it says seven shots were fired post mortem.”

“Why would the unsub shoot seven times after their victim was already dead? Seems like severe overkill.” You reason, and JJ hums. “Sometimes not adding up, we better let the others know.”

“Hold on,” JJ pauses, reading further into the report. “it says there’s something on each victim's mastoids.”

Turning around, you walk over and glance down. “It’s the letter T.” You tell JJ as she bends down beside you, taking a look for herself. “Could it be a signature?”

“I’m not sure.” She states. “Let me get the report for our first Jane Doe, see if there’s anything different for hers.”

As JJ exits the room, you exhale deeply and take a seat. “It’s fine, Y/n.” You tell yourself as you rest your hands against the cool metal cabinet behind you as you try to recompose yourself.

“Y/n,” JJ calls out. “we gotta talk to the team, look.”

Passing you the file, you sigh at the sight of what is on the Jane Doe’s ear.

“T & D?” You speak up, and JJ nods. “Let’s go.”

“Truth or Dare.” Spencer states as he stands in front of the boards. “Our unsub is playing truth or dare with our Jane and John Does. Answer truthfully, avoid being shot. Lie, and well.” He trails off as he motions to the pictures behind him.

“Any update on who our Does might be?” JJ asks as Penelope remains connected and the sound of her typing echoes through the line.

“I’ve found a potential match for our Jane Doe. Lucia Hanes, 24, went missing six months ago. On her way home from work but never arrived, reported missing since and never found.” Penelope explains.

“Garcia, can you-”

“I’ve sent you her families details to your tablets.” Penelope finishes before Emily could even ask.

Chuckling to yourself, you open your tablet, looking at the information. “Thanks, Pen.” You call out as you all split up, you and Luke heading to Lucia’s mother's house.

“So, how does it feel?” Luke asks as you pull up outside Marie Jakings house.

“How does what feel?” You question as you walk up the driveway, Luke behind you.

“Having Reid back?” He nudges you playfully. “Come on, he’s your guy, or whatever you two call it.”

Rolling your eyes, you knock on Marie’s door. “He’s my boyfriend, technically.” You comment, knowing Spencer has spent more time in jail than you have officially dating. “But my best friend first and foremost.” You add as the door opens.

“Hello?” Marie answers, crossing her arms as she looks between you and Luke.

“Ms Jakings?” Luke asks as he holds his badge out. “I’m Agent Alvez and this is Agent Y/L/N. We’re here regarding the disappearance of your daughter, Lucia Hanes.”

Marie’s hand rises as she covers her mouth, muffling a sob. “Ms Jakings, I understand this has been hard for you, but we’re only asking for a few minutes if that’s alright?” Your voice softens as Marie straightens up and stifles her sob, allowing you both inside.

Sitting in her living room, you can’t help but notice the pictures of Lucia covering the mantelpiece and as you blink, you can’t help but vision Lucia lying on that metal table, lifeless.

“Thank you for your time, Ms Jakings,” Luke speaks up as Marie sits opposite you, her hands shaking as she picks up her mug of coffee.

“Do you have kids?” She questions, looking between you both.

“I, no.” You stumble over your words as she simply nods.

“So you have no idea how hard this is? Your daughter goes to work and never comes home, and has potentially been a victim of, of a serial killer?” Marie’s voice cracks as tears fall from her eyes.

“Ms Jakings, I’m sorry, I truly am. But right now, we’re just trying to find any connection between your daughter and our unsub.” Luke explains, leaning forward whilst you swallow the vomit rising in your throat. “Was there anyone who would’ve wanted to hurt Lucia? Or had a problem with her?”

Marie hums to herself for a moment before glancing towards you. “No, she, she was a kind person. She studied hard, she was saving up to go travelling. I, I’ve never had an issue with her.” Marie states. “But, there was this incident in High School,” Marie mutters.

“An incident?” You ask. “What, what sort of incident?”

“Well, Lucia and her classmates took part in an online game. She told me it was something everyone was doing all around town.” Marie glances over to the framed photo of Lucia and herself on Lucia’s graduation. “I didn’t think much of it, none of the parents did.”

“What game was this?” Luke speaks up, now taking his phone out to record the conversation between the three of you.

“Truth or dare.” Marie tells you both, noticing the look shared between you and Luke.

“Ms Jakings, I think it’s best if we bring you into the station, for your own safety and we can continue the conversation there.” You explain as you rise to your feet, Marie complying.

“I’ll call Garcia, have her check into the history of this game in the school.” Luke comments as you walk out to the SUV with Marie.

As you all sit in the SUV, Luke pulls away whilst you sit in the back with Marie. “It’s to do with that game, isn’t it?” Marie asks, her voice shaking now as you remain silent. “I knew it would catch up with them.” She mutters.

“Ms Jakings, what do you-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Luke yells as a force collides with the car. Immediately you’re knocked to the side, slamming your head against the window as you faintly hear Luke calling your name until everything becomes black.

PART TWO

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