#fear street out of context | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheapshrimpysheep · 10 months

Text

You... Cheater? - Demon Brothers

SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)

WORD COUNT: An average of 470 words per character.

👉 You… Cheater? - Side Characters

COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.

I hope you enjoy ;)

CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom, maybe out shopping for dinner. And he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.

This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.

Lucifer decided to walk up to “you” and have a conversation with “you” right there. But when “you” and the other demon saw him, both ran away. He didn't follow them. He stopped right there and it only took a few seconds for him to realize that something was wrong. That couldn't be you. It does not make sense. You wouldn't cheat on him. Who would?

Part of him doesn't believe it was you because he knows you and your character. But the other part that doesn't believe it was you is his Pride. Cheat on Lucifer? With someone like Diavolo he could understand, but a lower demon? No, that wasn't you, you're not that stupid! However, he can't help but have a very small fear that it really was you. But that one is irrational, it can't be right.

He asks you to go talk to him in his office and, of course, you have no idea what he saw. So, you don't know what he wants to talk to you about.

“Where were you while I was away?” is the first thing he asks after telling you that you can come in. You are confused, but the truth is, you've been playing with Levi in his room. Then some of the other brothers also showed up to play, so you have a lot of alibis.

“Did Solomon ever teach you how to duplicate yourself?” If you respond with "Is that possible?!" and an obvious face of surprise, he will burst out laughing. “I wouldn't be surprised if it was.” he continues and tells you about what he saw on the street.

Your reaction tells him everything he needs to know and confirms his suspicions. “Don't worry, I knew it wasn't you. I just wanted to confirm with you.” he lifts your chin and kisses your lips “I would never fall in love with a cheater.”

And then, he hugs you. It starts out like a normal hug, but after his arms are around you, you feel them tighten slightly. As if that little irrational side of him that worried him was showing how relieved he was that it really wasn't you. As if that little irrational part of him, that told him what he'd seen could be real, was showing you how relieved he was wrong.

“I don't know who those demons were.” He says, slowly breaking the hug and looking at you. “Yet.” You see his eyes, a look very similar to the one he usually has when he wants to punish his brothers. But this one was worse. “I will find out who they were. They need to be reminded why they shouldn't deceive us. Of course you are more than welcome to join me, after all they had the audacity to impersonate you.”

We all know Mammon is the emotional type not the rational one. So... he’s completely desolate, devastated, he’s heart shattered in pieces. It didn't even cross his mind that it might not be you, despite the number of times he said to himself "No, no, no, no, no, no..." He didn't have the courage to face “you”. He even dropped the purchases he made. One of the items he bought was a gift for you. And he run away.

He didn't come home. After all, you were there and seeing you would be too painful. But nobody knew about it. But nobody knew about it. Well, actually he went home, without the groceries and without listening to anyone. He just went straight to his room and left again, but this time on his car. You haven't seen him.

It's when everyone else goes to talk to you about not knowing where he is and being his turn to make dinner that you decide to go to his room and summon him. I mean, you have no idea where he is either. He doesn't respond to your messages. Summoning him will bring him straight to you, straight to home.

He appears and falls on his butt. “OI! WHAT THE-?!” he looks at you. His eyes were reddish and his cheeks wet. You ask what happened, worried. “You... I... You know what happened!” But you don’t. “Yes you do! I saw you! I saw... you two...”

“Us two? You mean Asmo and I? Of course you saw us. You came with us.” You remind him that the three of you went shopping together, but Asmo wanted to buy a new perfume and wanted you to go with him. So Mammon went to buy the rest of the stuff.

He is clearly embarrassed. “W-wait, s-so you were with Asmo the whole time?” Yes, you still even smelled like the perfume he bought. “S-so... you weren't sneaking kissing another demon on the street?” What the heck was he talking about?! Of course not! Does he really thought you would be kissing a random demon on the street when you could be making out with him? Your first?! And you tell him that. He's such a dummy!

He hugs you desperately. And he starts to cry again, but this time with relief. His face on your shoulder, he can't even speak, just sob. As if you just woke him up from a nightmare. You hug him back and kiss him on the forehead.

He really needs some time with you now. He's not really the vindictive type. He just wants you, your love and affection, although it took him a while to admit it. So you two cuddle for a while on his sofa. Until he remembered his car was parked somewhere.

Levi is also a very emotional person but worse: he is the Avatar of Envy. Just like any other sin can blind you, this one is the worst for what he saw. And even even worse, we know he doesn't have a good self-esteem. Put it all together and he never felt worse in his life. He won't talk to "you", he will run back home and lock himself in his room.

You had agreed that when he arrived you would go to his room to play the new game he had gone out to buy. But he didn't tell you he was back. It was one of the brothers who told you that he had seen him arrive and enter the room.

You go to his room, knock on the door, but he doesn't answer. You try as many times as it takes until he says he wants to be alone and doesn't want to talk to anyone. Messages don't work either. Only when you threaten to break down the door does he let you in.

The lights are off and he's hiding under the covers in the bathtub. You ask what's going on and again he takes a long time to answer you. He’s more the type of avoiding talk and/or see you. Listening to you is painful enough already. Worried, you slowly approach and ask again, in your sweetest voice, what was going on.

“I SAW IT, OK!?” he exploded, without coming out from under the covers, his voice cracking. “I... saw it... I saw you... on the street...” He saw you on the street? Was he talking about seeing you and Satan on the book store? “WHAT? No!” He got up, uncovering himself from the blankets. His eyes were reddish and a few tears were still falling down his cheeks. “I saw you kissing that demon on the street.” he calms down a bit and starts talking about that shouldn't surprise him. Even a lower demon was better than him. Of course he would never be enough for you. Someone like him? Of course not. You deserved better. You would even deserve the crown of Devildom...

Well, you don't remember kissing Satan on the street, so you have no idea what he's talking about. You tell him you went out with Satan to the bookstore and you were with him the whole time until you got back home. Levi could ask him. Whoever he saw wasn't you.

It takes a while for him to process that and realize that who he saw really wasn't you. And for him to throw himself into your arms. He's not afraid to cry in front of you, and on your shoulder. His hug is tight, desperately and lovingly tight.

He tells you again about his fear of losing you, of you leaving him. You end up getting in the bathtub with him. Cuddling with and reassuring him. Saying you would never leave him, how much you love him. He needs you now, he needs to recover from the shock that luckily wasn't real.

What have those two demons just done? Envy is a very bad sin to be the avatar of in a situation like that. But even worse is Wrath! Satan instantly assumed his demon form, throws the groceries to who knows where, and walked towards the two. They noticed him approach by the heavy and determined steps and fled. He stopped. “You” looked at him with such fear in “your”eyes, it shocked him.

He didn't mean to hurt “you”, he never would! But “you” hurt him. How could this be happening? You weren't like that, you were so kind and lovable... Wait, you're not like this. Something is wrong. And he only realizes this after stopping and calming down a bit. Something he learned from you. No! You wouldn't do this. Something was really wrong and he needed to talk to you now!

As soon as he gets home, he asks the first brother of his he sees if you are there. And after hearing a yes he runs to your room. Ignoring the "Why? What's going on?" after that yes.

He knocks at your door while calling your name. You open the door and he rushes into the room, closing the door behind you and practically "Kabedon" you against the door. “Have you been here the whole time?” he seems to contain some kind of anger. It worries you a little, but at these times you know you need to be the calm person. And yes, you were home that whole time. In fact, you spent a lot of time helping Mammon with his studies. He practically begged for your help to avoid another punishment from Lucifer.

You seemed sincere, but still: “So, you never left the house? Not even to go shopping?” You think for a moment. But no, pretty sure you never left the House of Lamentation. And the hours of study were very long. You both know what a bad student Mammon is.

He sighs, lowers his head for a moment and then drops down to hug you. It is a tender and relieved hug. “I’m sorry.” he whispers in your ear. “I just... wanted to make sure..." you hug him back and finally feel like it's the right time to ask what's going on.

He tells you what he saw on the street. The shock on your face is further proof to him that it wasn't really you he saw. As he thinks about what that could have been, his expression change. The expression of the true Avatar of Wrath.

“The only explanation is that someone impersonated you. I don't know who they were but I'll find out. And I couldn't care less if there were any reason for them to do that. Nobody tarnishes your name! I will find them, and when I do I'll make them regret even the air they breathe today.”

Asmo doesn't think you are cheating on him. After all he’s the Avatar of Lust, he better than anyone understands the concept of One-night stand. But he can't help but get a sour feeling in his stomach. He used to do one-night stands, but that was before he meet you. After that he couldn't do it anymore, he just wanted you. And he thought you only wanted him. What was happening to him?

He thought of going to you. Ask if he could join. That would look like him, but no, he can't, that's not what he wants to do. It's nothing related to his sin that he wants to do. He felt more like... Levi? Could it be jealousy? Him?! He needed to go home. ASAP!

He does his best to pretend that nothing is wrong, that he just came back from shopping and didn't see anything special. Maybe he'll come up with some story about a purse he saw, just to keep up the facade that everything was fine.

He'll avoid you for awhile, flashing you a smile you knew was fake. It was at dinner time, after he sent a message to the brothers' group saying he didn't feel well and therefore wouldn't have dinner that you decided to go to his room and check on him.

He is reluctant to let you in, but he still wants to show you that everything is fine, so he gives in at the second or third knock. He is sitting on the bed. And not even all the make-up he could put on his face would manage to hide from you the sadness that was really in his eyes. Despite his smile. He tells you not to worry, but it's when you insist that you can tell something is wrong that he decides to tell you the truth.

“I... I wanted to ask you.” he puts back on his everything is fine mask “Who was that new demon friend of yours?” You look confused at him. “I wasn't snooping, I promise. I just ended up seeing you two. You know, even if you try to hide yourself well there is still a possibility that someone will see you making out on the street.” he was forcing a smile, as if wanting to look like he was giving you genuine advice. But you got even more confused. What the heck was he talking about?

“Aww, don't worry hon, I'm not mad. I... think...” he mutters to himself and then goes back to talking to you. “You don't need to hide it from me. I saw it with my own eyes, you know?” you see his eyes water slightly. He's trying so hard not to cry.

But you weren't on that street today. “What?!” he widens his eyes, as if seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You tell him you've been with Lucifer at RAD most of the day, helping him with paperwork. And even when you came home, you came back with him. And that was it. That and you wouldn't making out with a random demon on the streets. You have standards. and they only skyrocketed after you met Asmo.

He believes in you, he always believed in you and you really seemed to be telling the truth. He finally breaks down in tears and jumps out of bed to hug you desperately. He is so happy to know that that wasn't you! But he's still confused about what he felt. He really needs to talk to you about this. But after dinner. His appetite has returned and he is starving.

Beel doesn't know what to do. Should he pretend he didn't see anything? Should he go talk to you? He was so confused. You're not like this. what was happening? He... shouldn't interrupt, should he? He just grabs the groceries and heads home.

None of the groceries survived the trip. He ate up his feelings along the way. Or at least he tried. Lucifer was about to scold him, until he saw the look on his face and he just decided to let him go to his room and talk later. But the truth is, he would ask you to talk to him. And that's because even Belphie couldn't.

Belphie went to the attic to let you two talk alone in their bedroom. You knocked on the door, but Beel didn't answer. He didn't tell you to come in, but he didn't say you couldn't either. You walk in and see him lying on his bed with his back to you.

You slowly walk up to him and ask what's going on. He still doesn't respond. You sit on the bed and when you touch him, he flinches a little. Ok, now you're really worried. You ask him to please tell you what's going on, in your sweet, understanding voice.

He takes a deep breath and then slowly gets up to sit on the bed beside you. He still can't look at you. He doesn't look upset, just sad and confused. “I saw you on the street.” he calmly explains, with a sadness in the voice that breaks your heart “With that demon.”

What demon? What street? You haven't even left the house today. “What?!” he finally looks at you. He hadn't cried yet, but he was close to it. You tell him you didn't leave the house. You were even in the Planetarium with Belphie while Beel went shopping.

He believes in you, he always did and he never had any reason not to. And the same goes for Belphie. “So it wasn't you I saw on the street kissing another demon?” What? Of course not! What was he talking about?

He doesn't explain, he just smiles hugely and gives you one of his bear hugs. He tells you what he saw while hugging you. He doesn't care what he saw. He doesn't want to know who did it. The only thing that matters is that it wasn't really you. The real you was there, with him, hugging him back and letting him kiss you and kissing him back.

Then you hear his stomach rumble like a beast. His appetite had returned, and with a vengeance.

What the F*ck was going on?! Did that filthy lower demon make you do that? Were you under some spell? Belphie was going to put an end to it NOW! He assumed his demon form, throws the groceries away and rushed towards “you”. But when “you” two see him, “you” run away. He runs after the two, but unfortunately for him, the demon manages to outrun him.

He comes back home looking for you and without the groceries. When Lucifer sees him and prepares to lecture him for not bringing the groceries, Belphie stops him and asks if you are at home. It’s important! Something might have happened to you. Lucifer says you're in your room and lets Belphie run to your door.

You hear him knocking urgently at your door. You open the door, and seeing the seriousness on his face you ask what happened. He stands still in silence for a moment, looking at you, analysing. Then he comes in and lets you close the door.

“Did you leave the house today?” he asks calmly. You say yes. “Where did you go?” That was weird, he wasn't the stalking type, he was too lazy for that. That and he was never like that, much less with Beel. You went with Beel to a new pastry shop that opened to try their drinks and sweets. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time there. You had to drag Beel back home because it was getting late. You two had only arrived home shortly before Belphie himself.

“You never left his side?” No. Why would you? You love hanging out with Beel. By the way you speak and your confused expression, he knows you're telling the truth. And his straight face instantly turns into a reassured, lazy laugh. “Ha ha ha. I knew that was weird. It wasn't even you.” And now that his good mood was back, you could safely ask what the heck was going on.

“Ummmmm... I'm too tired to tell. At least standing. You know, I saw something that made me worry about you, so I ran back to see if you were all right. I'm so sleepy right now. What if I told you while we cuddle in your bed?” That sly bastard, taking advantage of a subject like that for cuddles.

He tells you what happened while the two of you are in bed. But even though he's relaxed in your arms he doesn't fall asleep. “That was probably some demon impersonating you with some shapeshifting spell.” he says “If they had done that to me, I wouldn't care. But since you were the one they did this to, I'll make sure to find them and break their neck.” he said with a cute smile and already half asleep, which only made the threat worse. And then finally fell asleep in your arms.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

5K notes · View notes

psychelis-new · 3 months

Text

pick a pile: "You are..." - Loving and encouraging words for you

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read some loving warm words about you. it's always nice to hear about our positive traits, right? here you can find yours and some encouraging words about your next steps/healing. keep going and take care of you! and also, be ready to let love in, you deserve it :)

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

You are sunny, cheerful, bright and warm. You're also pretty welcoming and you like to hug people or generally enjoy physical displays of affection. I think people like to be around you, you basically cheer up everyone and "set the mood for the evening" (I just heard that, IDK). You have a lovely smile, everyone is in awe with it and you in general; maybe you also have a particular way to laugh? Like you maybe make a strange sound, and everyone is fond of it. They love to make you laugh honestly just to hear it. I feel like you take emotional care of others and you may feel like a sip of fresh water to many. You're extrovert (or at least seem so in specific context), confident and you know exactly what to do or say to make the day of the people you are in contact with. I think you may share smiles with people on the street and even help them if they need (eg. like if they drop something you may pick it up for them, especially for older people or you may leave your seat to them). I think you are very funny and smart, and like to joke a lot. Okay for some of you you may have changed after something happened and keep this sunny side of you a bit hidden (or maybe you occasionally fear being judged about it, or you have been), but honestly I think you only need to reconnect with it and let it flow from you. It's hurtful when some things happen but it's also something that... just happens in life, sadly (I'm not trying to invalidate your experience/pain, at all). We don't have to let those negative things change us so much, especially if we still feel that flame/desire inside. I mean... don't feel guilty for being happy, if that's what you feel. You can be happy no matter what happened. You have to be happy. Find new ways for that happiness to flow within but reach it "and let it rain" out of you. Enjoy it, let it be there and help you heal what hurt as well, if you need. You can find new happiness anytime. New reasons to be happy, too. This is also true for the few of you who tend to hide pain behind a smile, pretending it's all good. Toxic positivity won't solve it, as avoiding problems. Be more balanced (maybe you were called by pile 2 as well) and accepting of what is wrong: it doesn't mean you let it take over you (ask for help if it's too scary), it means you're not being blind to it but you're listening to it and trying to make it better (ofc you can wear a smile while you do that, you totally have to! Healing happens also with taking breaks to enjoy life and hobbies/passions...). You are such a beam of light for everyone, confront your problems (if there's any) and then keep on shining!

song: chicken noodle soup | j-hope; wake me up before you go go | wham! (I channeled the first song while doing your reading, anyway the mood for you is: jitterbug!)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

You are strong, pure and very special. You stand out, and honestly you don't even have to do much to stand out. I think it's your energy: it also has something healing for those that comes near you, something comforting. You should be more confident in yourself: maybe you also doubt about your looks or how you may be seen/perceived by others but honestly you have/are nothing less than anyone else. You are caring and have a good heart; maybe you have buildt some walls around yourself out of past traumas, and this is blocking you a little when it comes to sharing with others or creating deeper relationships. It's okay take your time to work through those walls. You have beautiful eyes, and maybe you like to look at others in the eyes too? I think you are also sincere, honest and humble, at times also to a fault: please do stand up for yourself when you need, and set your boundaries. You may also be a bit too strict on you, especially when you make some type of mistakes or something? Maybe it's the fear I mentioned in the beginning of being perceived as you're not or in a bad way, or maybe... at times you may be scared of your thoughts somehow. It's not just the anxiety you may get from them and how they may make you spiral so you tend to stop them (it's okay to do this and distract your mind when you start feeling overwhelmed, but please come back to those thoughts when you feel calmer: to avoid thinking about a problem won't help you solve it at all, it will come back stronger. And please ask for help if you need), but there's also something else. Remind yourself usually the first thought is what we learned, our instinctive first reaction to a situation (usually comes up to "protect us") while the second thought we have is the one that comes from the heart, it really expresses what we think with a calmer and more balanced mind. I mean, eg. let's say someone says they got something you always wanted and this triggers you: your first reaction could also be being envious of them and feel not enough compared to them and potentially say or think something negative/feel resentful or angry, but if you stopped and thought about it again, you may just be really happy for this person and see yourself as on a different path: your time will come too. Be more kind with yourself, more patient: you're unlearning a negative mental pattern and that's not easy, it will take time and practice and lot of patience. You are so lovely you have no idea, please try to see and show that yourself too.

song: a little bit yours | jp saxe (indeed come back to your core self and show yourself love, and accept it too; closing chapters, changing and unlearning stuff is hard, but you can make it)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

You are multilayered. You have lovely rosey cheeks, people may want to squeeze them lol. You are sweet and cute, you probably are also a little shy or maybe you feel anxious in social settings and you may end up blushing a lot. You may also be stubborn occasionally (not too bad tbh) and can be determined or at least you reach good results in job/school. I think you tend to hide a part of yourself though or find it hard to deal with it/not like it. There's something you fear showing or that you don't want others to see about you, probably your pain, probably something from your past that you keep inside (also cause you can't accept/understand it -it could be abuse for someone, I hope you are safe now). Maybe you're also "scared"... of being loved/seen for real (having your "mask removed"?) or feeling vulnerable... Your energy feels younger or maybe just unexperienced in some fields or situations (maybe you also feel uncomfortable in some situations or you felt so in the past and you avoided joining them so now you feel a little behind maybe: honestly, there's nothing bad in this. You're not behind, you just did what was better for you and you still have time to make more experiences. You have all the time you need and want). I think there's indeed something about time here, it could be you are nostalgic about something that now you are missing/lacking, maybe feelings you could experience in your childhood, or you want to delete something from your past, or it could be that you fear running out of time, as mentioned, as you want to experience many things still but maybe you are scared you won't make it or you don't know where to start from. Just take a break: the moment you'll feel more grounded, it will come to you. Focus on taking care of you and also do take naps if you need and can. If it's about your childhood, eg. if people taught you have to "grow up" or have dimmed you in any way (or you had to, in order to gain their approval), remember you don't really have to forget about your inner child nor to be someone you're not. You can be an adult and still be in touch with your inner child. It's not that one thing excludes the other. And you can be yourself without any fear (it's hard to believe it but you won't be pushed away by everyone if you aren't as they wish). Maybe your inner child now really needs you to be closer to them, they need your appreciation and support, probably also after something you had to go through in your past: your inner child totally did great back then with all they had. Hug them and show them love. I think some of you may also love to work or be around children or pets as they may help you feel more in touch with your own inner child and more grounded. Again, be attentive to your needs, and meet them: maybe you were *unwillingly* taught you don't deserve that much (you had to accept crumbles in relationships) but it's not so, you deserve the moon: remember this. You're already perfect, there's nothing about you in your past or present that you need to fix, my love. Heal your fears about being yourself, receiving (love in particular) and don't run away from it, don't run away from yourself: you'll get all you wish for. Give it and yourself time. And, if you need this: it wasn't your fault, you were not responsible for that event/decision for which you feel like you were (and maybe you didn't even had to take). Whatever it was. You were trying to win the approval of someone who couldn't love you as you wished. Build boundaries around people (adults) and remember you are not responsible for them and what they do/their mistakes: you're not here to save them from anything. You have your own self and life to care about now.

song: heart attack | demi lovato

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a card #divination #clairs readings #intuitive readings #psychich readings #tarot readings #tarots #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

437 notes · View notes

dyaz-stories · 4 months

Text

hands shaking from holding back from you || Hyun-Su x f!reader

summary: Spring is here, and Hyun-Su offers to take you out on a date, which soon leads to more between the two of you

word count: 3.5k

warnings & tags: some fluff, angst because it's sweet home, kissing, heavy make-out session, gets pretty suggestive but never explicit, monster!hyun-su makes an appearance, the pronoun 'her' is used once in reference to the reader

first one-shot · previous one-shot

A/N: to give a little context, reader and Hyun-Su were in high school together, reader was only there for a year before going to another high school, and therefore has no knowledge of the bullying which hyun-su was a victim of. this one-shot can be read independently (there's nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts), but I do recommend reading them for context.

There is something strange about spring returning in a forever changed world. It had been so fitting, the apocalypse starting with winter, when everything was dead and desolate. Now, nature is starting to bloom again. The streets should be filled with noise and people, and you should be studying for your exams. Instead, you’re rationing your food, and you haven’t been outside in forever — you don’t need to, now that you have a knight in his torn hoodie to make sure you have everything you need.

Hyun-Su truly is the silver lining in the situation. The only good thing in the world as it is. He’s been more confident around you lately, more at ease. Still, it surprises you when he comes by on a sunny afternoon, and offers, with this soft, cautious voice of his:

“Do you want to go out today?”

You’re putting away some fresh fruits he picked for you, and you turn around in confusion.

“What do you mean, out?”

‘Outside’ is dangerous. ‘Outside’ is a place you only go when you’re desperate, and you plan as efficiently as possible, to ensure you spend the least amount of time there. ‘Outside’, everything is a threat, and you can only breathe when you’re back at the house.

‘Outside’ regularly takes Hyun-Su from you.

Sure, he’s around a lot more, these days, but he still has to leave every now and then. You’ve come to understand that you’re not the only one who relies on him, but he hasn’t provided an explanation, and you haven’t pried. It burns a little every time he leaves, and yet…

And yet, the fear that he wouldn’t answer if you asked is worse. The fear that he might not come back if you didn’t let it rest. The fear that if he had to choose, he wouldn’t choose you.

“It’s nice out,” he answers, and you notice him retreating even as he’s still speaking. “But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to—”

“No, I’d love to,” you cut him off before he can doubt himself further. “I just— Wouldn’t that be— dangerous?”

“Oh.” He smiles, and it’s mesmerizing. It’s not the bright, joyful smile you were used to seeing, back in high school, but being more subdued doesn’t make it any less genuine. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

There’s no cockiness in his voice, just confidence.

“Then… Sure. I’d love to go out with you.” And you’re not usually the type to say that, because you don’t have the guts for it, but you feel comfortable enough with Hyun-Su to lean towards him with a playful smile. “It’s a date then?”

He lets out a brief, surprised laugh, then glances down at his feet while his cheeks and ears turn red.

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Even if you were the instigator, you still feel your face burn at how soft his eyes are when he looks back at you.

He looks at you like you’re one of the seven wonders.

You see him lick his lips as his eyes fall on yours. You could always take the step to fill the distance between the two of you, but Hyun-Su rarely initiates, so you want to give him the chance to do so. When he does, it’s always so soft and so careful, like he’s afraid of breaking you. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, looks away again — and it’s alright. You won’t rush him.

“I’ll go get ready,” you hum, stepping out of the room.

You miss the way Hyun-Su follows you with adoring eyes.

When you emerge back from your room, Hyun-Su is waiting for you, and you follow him, heart rate spiking when you go through the door. Being outside again, without the need to go get some specific and vital item, is— strange. Your eyes dart around you, constantly taking in your surroundings. There are surprisingly few monsters, compared to the chaos that was early winter. In front of you, Hyun-Su walks casually, seemingly without paying much attention to what is happening around him. You trust him, you really do, but there’s you still find it unnerving about that.

When you jump at some faraway sound, that turns out to be just birds flying away, scared by your approach, he offers you his hand, an amused smile on his lips. He might even suppress a laugh, but you can’t tell for sure.

“Is that okay?” he asks you softly as he closes his fingers around yours.

He treats you like you’re made of porcelain.

“It’s much better,” you reply with a smile, even if you feel a little sheepish.

For a second, he stares into your eyes, before he looks away and lets out a deep, long exhale. You don’t question him, just give his hand a squeeze, hoping it comes off as a silent reassurance.

He squeezes back, then pulls you with him as you keep going through the city.

“Is there— Is there nothing here anymore?” you ask. It feels like you should have seen a monster by now.

“They’re here,” Hyun-Su replies casually, like monsters aren’t a death promise. “They just know better than to approach.”

You swallow. You understand what he doesn’t say — they know better than to approach him — but it’s not that much of a reassurance, for you. You quicken your pace to stay closer to him. It says a lot about how far he’s come that he doesn’t jump when your shoulder brushes against his.

“They’re not all dangerous,” he says. You know he intends for it to be reassuring, but all you can do is grimace in response.

“They might not be,” you answer — you remember a flash of wings as an unseen monster ripped the snake-like creature that was trying to enter your home —, “but it’s not like I have a way of knowing which ones are safe and which ones aren’t.”

There’s a long silence as Hyun-Su keeps walking.

“But isn’t that true of humans, too?” he asks you in the end. He sounds so— sad, and yet you don’t know what to tell him to make it better. He’s not like them, you want to assure him. You’d never conflate him with the ones that tried to murder you — but it’s not like you can forget about them altogether either. Being wrong about trusting a monster, being wounded once could sign your end.

“It is,” you reply slowly. It’s especially true in this new world, where humans have dropped all their inhibitions. “I guess it’s just— Humans have been less of danger to me, you know?” A brief laugh. “But it’s not like I’m running after them either, right? I haven’t stepped foot near the shelter.”

Your dad didn’t trust the military, and you’re distrustful of authority. There might be strength in numbers, but you wouldn’t feel safe being surrounded by men with machine guns while you have nothing.

Hyun-Su hums at your answer. It does seem to have brought him some comfort, and yet you feel the need not to leave it at that.

“You know I trust you, right?” He freezes and turns to look at you. “Both sides,” you insist. “I know you’re safe.”

His lips part as if to say something, before he closes them again and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. Finally, he nods.

“I feel safe with you, too,” he says. The sentence catches you by surprise, almost makes you want to laugh, because— who in their right mind would think you’re a threat? But Hyun-Su says it with such gravitas that you can only assume that there’s something that you don’t know about under there. Truth be told, there’s a lot you haven’t talked about with him. He’s not talkative, not anymore at least, and it’s hard to know which questions you can ask before reaching a painful subject. And there are countless of these, for everyone, since the Apocalypse hit. “Come on,” he adds after a few seconds. “We’re almost there.”

He pulls you towards a half-broken down outside staircase. You can’t make your way up on your own, so he grabs you by the hips to help you up, and you let out a surprised yelp when strong hands pull you close to him, his chest against your back, to lift you up. Immediately, his body tenses up and he stills, which means you’re all too aware of how close he is now, of his breath on your neck and his body against yours.

“Sorry,” he says. “Is that okay?”

Gosh, he’s sweet to ask, but you’re really happy he cannot see your expression right now.

“It’s fine,” you squeak, “just caught me off guard. Don’t worry about it.”

He seems to hesitate for a second, and oh, you’re so aware of his fingers on your hips, before he lifts you up as if you weighed nothing, first on his shoulder, then easily higher, so you can grab the bottom of the staircase.

“All good?” he asks once you’re up there.

“All good! Do you need—”

But he’s made his way up before you can finish your sentence, and you blink. Right. Some people are athletic.

“Go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the stairs. “I’ll catch you if anything goes wrong.”

It shouldn’t feel reassuring, should make you think that you’re at risk, but you meant it when you said you trusted him. Knowing he’s there to watch over you… It’s like having your own personal guardian angel.

There are no issues, however, and you soon arrive on the rooftop — which takes your breath away. This had to have belonged to someone with money, because there is a whole garden there. Overgrown grass, flowers, and even a few trees. Birds are chirping, and it feels… Well, it feels like the kind of places you’d go to laze around on a sunny afternoon with your friends, like an actual park. Being secluded and high up, it is however much safer than any park you could actually go to now. When you turn around, you’re met with an impressive view of the city. It looks peaceful from up here, just a quiet spring day.

Then you notice that Hyun-Su is staring at you, and what you see takes your breath away. He’s smiling. Actually smiling. Wide and bright.

You’re quick to look away, embarrassed by the emotions you’re sure are obvious on your face. Tilting your head up, you let yourself receive the sun.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been this happy.

Hyun-Su often feels that, when he’s with you, all he can do is stare. He likes watching you when you’re at home, going about your day in the house, or sitting by a window and reading. It makes him feel so— welcome, knowing that he can just be there, with you, and that you’ll never mind his presence, never ask him to leave.

Never ignore him and pretend he doesn’t exist.

It makes him feel like he belongs, being around you, makes him feel at peace.

Or, at least, it did, because the emotions swirling under his skin right now are much more complex than they used to be.

He met you, or met you again, in the winter, when you were bundled up under coats and scarves and layers upon layers of clothes. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the change in your wardrobe lately.

It makes sense, of course. Days are getting warmer. Not only is there no need for you to keep wearing pullovers and disappear into huge coats. But the way your clothes are hugging your body these days, how they accentuate your curves, how your t-shirt rides up to reveal the skin of your stomach…

He can’t say that it makes it more difficult to be around you, because he doesn’t think that anything could do that. You make him feel like he can breathe again, like he’s finally coming up to the surface after spending ages lost in dark waters, not knowing which way was up and which way was down. It’s just that it— takes a lot of place in his mind.

He can already barely stop thinking about you as it is, knows that the Kid and Yi-Kyung have noticed already how his mind always seems to wander away from them. This, though, this is a whole other can of worms. Because he doesn’t know how to act about it. Doesn’t know how you’d feel if you knew. Doesn’t know if you’d look at him with pity, if you’d tell him you never want to see him again, if it would disgust you.

Yet, no matter how much he tries to stop himself, he always comes back to staring. You tilt your head up towards the sky, close your eyes.

You’re beautiful.

If he was another man, he’d walk up to you to wrap his arms around you, he’d whisper something in your ear, he’d kiss you.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, his leg twitches. It takes him a second to understand that it’s not just an involuntary muscle reaction. Inside him, the monster is swelling, clawing its way up towards the surface.

If you don’t do something about this, I will, it whispers inside him. And let’s be honest, maybe that would be for the best, because what could you do? At least I wouldn’t be afraid to touch her.

Hyun-Su tries his best to force it back down, to ignore the sting of the words, but the monster refuses to let up. Finally, he takes a step in your direction, then another. The closer he is to you, the less the monster puts up a fight — but it still refuses to go down completely.

You turn to look at him when he reaches you, tilting your head in quiet questioning.

Hyun-Su feels himself lifting his hand to touch your cheek, and it’s so spontaneous, so natural that he can’t really say who’s in control there. Your skin is soft under his, and as he leans in to kiss you, he cannot forget how fragile you are compared to him. How one wrong surge from the creature he harbors inside himself could end it all, how careful he needs to be.

And, when his lips brush against yours and you kiss him back without hesitation, he’s reminded of how you either don’t know that or don’t care.

There must be something in the air, because without thinking, his hand comes to your waist, then the small of your back, pulling you close to him. Again, he can’t tell if it’s the monster making its own decision, or if it’s just natural and he’s just doing what he truly wants to do. Both thoughts are worrying.

But you’re not aware of all the questions going on his mind, and all you do is tilt your head up to give him better access to your mouth — and it makes his pulse rush and his mind goes haywire.

Normally, he’d know better. Right now, he feels your hands, trapped against his chest, gripping his hoodie and pulling him down towards you, just a little closer, because there isn’t much space left between the two of you anyway.

He tilts you back now, still without thinking — there isn’t enough space for that in his mind at this moment, not when it’s so filled with you you you — hands firmly holding you against him. His tongue pushes against your lips, and you part them almost immediately, welcoming him in your mouth. His blood is pumping, his whole body feels scorching hot, and you’re right there, running your fingers along his jaw and over his neck, leaving burning trails everywhere you touch.

His tongue intertwines with yours and he feels, more than he hears, you whimper into him.

Immediately, a sense of urgency forces him to pull back. One second, he’s pressed against yours, the next, he’s taken two steps back, and your eyes open in confusion.

“Are you okay?’ he asks, searching for a way he’s hurt you, anything indicating that something’s wrong. But all he finds is swollen lips that you press together as you glance away from him.

“Um, yeah, everything’s fine,” you mumble, and it takes an embarrassingly long time for him to understand what kind of noise that was.

Oh.

He’s immediately desperate to hear it again.

He brings you back against him to kiss you once more, and there it is, coming from the back of your throat.

He’s not sure what happens, who initiates what, if he’s in control at all, but soon he knows that your back is against the grass, and he’s above you, kissing you just as fiercely. Your hands are wandering now — his shoulders, first, then his arms, then tracing the muscles of his chest and down to his abs. He wants to respond in kind, wants so badly to feel you, but the second he moves his hands, fear assaults him again.

“Is that—” He breaks the kiss to look at you in worry. “Is that okay?”

He illustrates the question with the softest of touch on your skin. You let out a brief laugh — not a mocking one, though.

“You really don’t have to keep asking that,” you say, and your eyes are adoring. Then, when he stays still, you push yourself on your elbows to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. Then his jaw. Then his neck.

Hyun-Su can only stay there, frozen in bliss, as you pepper his skin with kisses. Finally, as you’re reaching his collarbone, you take his hand in yours to bring it back on your body, and then you lie back down, allowing him to take the lead now.

His hand is shaking as he slides it under your t-shirt, all of his senses overwhelmed with need. He wants you so bad, he has a hard time understanding it. Kissing you is familiar. The way your body arches against yours, pushing into his touch— isn’t. His immediate want for more, more of the sounds you make, more of your body, more of you, that is all new, too.

He feels feverish as he mirrors your previous actions, kissing down your neck and lingering in one spot when he discovers it makes you whimper. Now that you’re not muffled with his mouth, your sounds echo louder, and they’re music to his ears, in a way that fuels the fire you’ve lit inside him. His hips press down into you, and a jolt of pleasure jolts through him, which when he realizes that he’s—

He tears himself away from you for the second time, stumbling back to end up just a couple meters away from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “sorry about that.”

You sit up, looking a little confused.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

It’s his line, and it takes him a while to piece together what you could mean by that. It’s not like there’s any way for you to hurt him. If anything, you should be disgusted by him. There’s no way you didn’t feel him, which means you know he’s hard. But you’re just looking at him in concern.

“Sorry,” he repeats. “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have—”

“Hyun-Su,” you call gently as you scoot over towards him. “It’s all good. I didn’t— um— I didn’t mind. But we— we can stop here for now, if you’d rather.”

Inside him, the monster protests vaguely, but this time Hyun-Su has no issue sending it back to the abyss it came from. He’s overwhelmed, heart beating erratically, and he doesn’t know what would happen if things kept going. He wasn’t in control, not really, and he— he can’t risk it. Not with you.

“Sorry,” he repeats, feeling miserable.

Slowly, you put your arms around him. There’s nothing suggestive about it. You’re just doing your best to bring him comfort.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. Your fingers run gently through his hair in appeasing motions. He rests his head against your shoulder.

He’s not alone.

You’re just there, talking to him, touching him, right against him. You’re not doing anything to move away, not looking at him like he’s some mistake, and it feels like his heart is trying to jump out of his chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

Your fingers still for a moment, before you go back to your ministrations.

“For what?”

And, God, the fact that you don’t even know, that you don’t even realize everything you’re doing, everything you’ve done for him since that first day when you spotted him in the street and ran after him…

He draws in a trembling breath.

“Thank you,” he just repeats.

You don’t ask any more questions, just keep gently playing with his hair.

The sky’s blue, the birds are singing, the town is quiet. It’s just you and him, sitting in the grass, on the rooftop.

If someone were to miraculously pass by and see the two of you there, they’d probably think that you were, indeed, on a date.

okay, I hope you're enjoying this little series! I'm not sure what I'll work on next. i know i'm eventually going to write smut for them, though it's going to be very soft because... well it has to be between them lol. someone has also said they wanted to see them tackle the world together a bit more, so I'm also thinking about writing a one-shot where they meet ha-ni and ho-sang, because i thought that ho-sang's intense dislike for hyun-su could imply they've met before. anyway, yeah, i have a couple different ideas.

i would really appreciate it if you left a comment, whether here, in the tags or in a reblog, and tell me anything you're liking in this series! interactions really motivate me and keep me writing :)

next one-shot

#hyun su x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader #sweet home imagine #sweet home fanfic #my writing

933 notes · View notes

moonit3 · 9 days

Note

I can order a yandere cute (kawaii), who maybe because of his cute and innocent appearance managed to get close to his beloved, but maybe this boy is not only cute and has a very disturbing past...

i love this concept, a cute person who is actually a freaking person behind the curtains. that’s why i love my readers, always giving me the best ideas to write.

ꕥ CUTE BOY ꕥ

➽ context warnings: yandere! male, gn! reader, sfw but there is some nsfw lines down there, a small age gap (like two-four years, but both reader and yandere are legal age!), manipulation, murder off scene.

➽ word count: 998 (sorry for that, guys!)

➽ synopsis: perhaps you would see him with another eyes if he was the same age as your.

➽ yandere! cute boy x gn! reader

➽ a/n: another few weeks later and i am here with another work of mine, today i present to you all my new creation that i am proud to be the mother of it. this work is a little too short for my own likes, but i feared that if i wrote more i could easily ruin it…so please, bear with me today’s writing.

➽ walking around the streets without paying attention led you to meet someone completely different from most people you met before. clothes so bright that might your hurt at first glance full of cute patterns on it, hairclips all over his dyed hair and of course, his personality being way too soft for a world like this, but with a little extra spicy that can’t be compared to anyone else.

➽ micah is his name, a sweet boy that isn’t so tall compared to most guys that you’ve encountered. yet, is the one who catch your attention the most with his odd smile, unfamiliar style and unique sense of humor. you consider yourself lucky to have met someone like him and even luckier to have someone by your side after moving to a new city.

➽ you might have know him for a couple of weeks, but it’s feel like he been around your whole life by the way he acts with you. many people even mistakenly you two as a couple by how affectionate he is in public, always holding hands and kissing your cheek as a way to greet you, so you don’t blame them for thing the wrong way when explaining that micah is just too friendly with you. but no one seems to believe you, always telling you that there is no shame in being touchy with him in public or hide the relationship.

➽ well, they aren’t wrong about micah being so much cling with you in the public eyes. sometimes, you ask yourself the last time you went out without him or for how long he can go without touching you (almost a minute, you recall). your best friend being like this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, by the completely opposite, you are kind into it. after all, everyone needs some physical affection and you are in no place to deny it.

➽ as more time goes on, you only got closer to micah while your other friends began distancing themselves away from you. why would they do that? the sense that you’ve done something wrong quickly makes you anxious, overthinking and even forgetting things that you were supposed to do. it’s hurt to see so many people leave you, abandon you. but hey, at least micah is by your side with no intention to leave.

➽ “let’s go out, [name]!” he brings you to the mall whatever he feels like, buying expensive outfits that match his style and making you pose with him to post at his social media. mostly of the comments compliment how the two looks so perfect together, some even saying that micah is a lucky guy to have you in his life. “look, look, [name]! they think we are a couple! isn’t that cute? maybe we do fit to be together like that.”

➽ “don’t be silly.” always patting his head makes him melt under your touch only if you could do that on other parts of his body, and he couldn’t be more grateful to be receiving those head pats too. “aren’t you a little to young for me? i know that you enjoy hugging me a lot and even kissing my cheek whatever you want, but you have to remember that i am older than you.”

➽ “hahaha, i know that.” can’t you see that his smile is no bigger as it was? your eyes does look at him, seeing that he isn’t playful like before, so you hold one of his hand and smile at him. “but you will stay by my side, right? like forever without anyone else trying to separate us.”

➽ “i promise, micah.” his pink dyed hair has become a messy by the time you stopped patting him, making him slightly better to the rest of the hanging out. even with your words promising to stay with him forever, the boy can’t help but want more than your friendship.

➽ he wants to be your boyfriend, then fiancé and then husband! the plans for the wedding are already written down at his journal and the ideas for your dress/suit to match his outfit can’t be ruined by your mindset of him being ‘too young’. he is already twenty-one! just because he still on his second year of college, doesn’t mean that he isn’t mature enough to marry the love of his life!

➽ that’s why he promise himself to study hard to graduate with the best grades from his fashion design class, so he can get a degree and a good paying job at his area. maybe you will see him with other eyes when he becomes a fully grown man who can afford to pay rent without struggling and to make the best matching outfits to both of you when he gets himself a studio and able to buy the most comfortable materials ever made.

➽ he can already imagine the large house he will buy for you. a big one at the countryside of the country so no one will disturb his peaceful and lovely spouse (you, of course!), maybe he will give/adopt a child with you like he always dreamed of. but that only will happen if he works hard, so micah has a long way to go. for now, he will stay close with you as a friend only.

➽ in meanwhile, he will act behind the scenes when someone might try to steal you away from him. those idiot who think that have a chance with are all disposable and you won’t never need anyone else in your life other than him (and probably a future pet to keep you company), so micah waste no time in making sure those people won’t be found and of course. he always makes a good job in hiding the remains of those people into the deepest parts of the woods, after all, he can’t do any mistakes or else he won’t be there for you in the future, [name].

@moonit3 writings

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere male #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x male reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere original character #yandere oc x reader #yandere man #my oc micah #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

343 notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Two idiots in love. (P7)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Life in Jackson doesn't start out great, especially when Joel hears some rather life-altering news about the reader.

Warnings: cursing

Masterlist

Part 1 and 8

.......................................................................

Finally seeing people without fear was a strange feeling for Y/N.

She held on to Joel as their horse lightly pranced through town behind the others.

But her daydream slowly closed as she felt Joel pulled the reigns to a stop. His hand rose and his voice rang through the street, "Tommy!"

When the man who Y/N figured was Tommy looked up and them and began to approach, Joel immediately dismounted the horse.

They ran to each other and embraced with a laugh from Tommy.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I came here to save you."

The two immediately broke into laughter as they hugged each other once again.

…

The three ate like they had never seen food before.

As much as manners were important in context, they couldn't care less.

"There's more if you need it," Maria muttered.

Joel looked up finally, "Thank you, ma'am. It's been a while since we've had a proper meal."

Ellie nodded, "I don't think I've ever had a proper meal. This is fucking amazing."

"Jesus…" Y/N muttered. She turned to Tommy and Maria, "Sorry. Just… let's mind our manners?"

"Alright. But I want my gun back."

Maria leaned forward, "The kids here aren't armed."

Tommy interfered, "Listen, I think ya'll got off on the wrong foot."

Ellie yelled, "She was gonna have her guys kill us."

"Well," Tommy reasoned, "we gotta be careful who we let in this place. But it's all bark. We're just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all."

The tensions were rising.

Joel leaned forward, "Ma'am," he turned to Maria, "We're grateful for your hospitality and all. But it'd be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family."

Tommy's eyes widened just barely, "Well.. uh. Maria is family."

"Oh, shit!" Ellie sighed, "Congrats. Joel… say congrats."

That was the last thing Joel wanted to say.

His jaw clenched, "Congrats."

Y/N stayed silent, going back to her soup.

…

Y/N was the only one in the house when Joel opened the door.

Ellie had left to go to Maria's earlier while Y/N was showering.

And she had appreciated the alone time. After all, she hadn't gotten any in months.

But Joel was panicked and angry when he walked in.

"J…Joel?" Y/N asked.

He threw his gun down on the old dusty couch and let out a shuddered breath.

She dared to approach him, standing it front of the brick wall of a man.

"I just. I need some time, is all." Joel explained.

She nodded, moving to the kitchen to get him a drink.

When she returned with the glass of water, he was now sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. She sat the glass down in front of him carefully, and only when he heard her did he look up.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No." He immediately replied.

She nodded again, ready to give him space, but when she moved away, his hand grabbed her wrist. "…Stay. Please."

Joel never says please.

Of course she would grant him this one thing.

She let him pull her to him, her body now resting is his lap.

Her fingers gently played with the scruff on his face and he closed his eyes in thought.

"Do you feel safe here?" Joel asked finally.

She leaned back at his question. "I… I don't know. I don't suppose I know what feeling safe is like anymore."

"Are you scared here, then?"

She let out a chuckle, "I'm always scared, Joel."

His eyes opened to look at her in confusion, "Even with me?"

Her silence told him enough.

"This isn't the place for us, Y/N."

She tilted her head, "Here? …with Tommy?"

He nodded, "We're leaving in the morning. We can't stay here. I can't stay here. Too crowded."

She let them sit in the silence before she let out a small, "Okay."

He let his lips pull into the smallest of smiles, running his fingers through her hair, "Was too mad when I walked in, I didn't even tell you how pretty ya look."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed. Her hair was still wet, and her clothing was a bit tighter than she would've liked but it was all they had. "You don't have to lie to me, Miller."

He laughed, "I'm serious, sweet girl." His fingers grazed her cheek. "I think you're beautiful."

She placed a soft kiss on his lips.

He pulled away with a smile, "Is that…" he sniffed her hair, "Coconut?"

She laughed, hitting his chest lightly, "You're ruining the moment."

He shrugged, "Sorry. Couldn't help myself. Haven't smelled that since…." He stopped.

Y/N couldn't sit there watching him relive memories, so she got up from his lap quickly. "Maria left you an outfit for when you're ready to change-"

"-What if I can't do it?"

She paused, "Do what, Joel?"

"Give you a family."

She took a step back, "W…what?"

He was deep in his thoughts. She could only tell by the way his eyes never met hers. "I had my chance, and I messed it up. My one chance at a family. Kids. I'm getting old, sweet girl. And there's no place to raise a child anytime soon. I think… by the time it could even be close to safe enough for you, we'll have missed our chance."

She was still shocked, not quite understanding him, "Do you… do you think that's what I want from you?"

He just nodded as his eyes finally met hers.

"No, Joel. I don't want a family. I fucked mine up, too. I could never… be a mother-"

"-Hey, don't say that-"

"-Let me finish, Joel." She huffed. "I'm not who I used to be. And…" She sighed, "It can't happen again."

He leaned back in thought, "What do you mean?"

"When I had Cam… they said it was a miracle that he made it. My anemia… I barely got us through. And I was in my prime, Joel. I don't want a family. I don't want... a fancy house with a wrap-around porch, or a car with real gas in it," she smiled, walking back towards him. She found her place on his lap once more, "I just want you, Joel Miller. Do you think maybe I could at least have that?"

His eyes studied her face in thought.

She took that as a sign and leaned in to connect their lips once more.

But he didn't reciprocate. She felt him stiffen as his grip tightened around her.

She leaned back with a worried gaze.

"Get up…" he murmured.

She leaned down slightly to catch his eye-line. "What, Joel?"

"Get up!" He suddenly yelled.

Her body involuntarily jumped up in fright.

He stood, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on. His voice was rushed and desperate. She knew he was having a panic attack. "I'm sorry, sweet girl. I can't give you a good life. You don't deserve this. I can't keep dragging you around."

"Stop. You're not dragging me, Joel. Just stay."

"No!" He demanded, "I… I have to go think."

The door slammed behind him as Y/N let out a frustrated sigh.

…

"I shouldn't have said what I said," Tommy reasoned to Joel in the shop. "I know you're happy for me. It's just… complicated for you. I'm sorry."

Joel stared at the ground in frustration.

Tommy leaned against the table in front of him, "Can I ask about her?"

"About who?"

"The woman."

Joel's jaw clenched slightly, but he couldn't deny his brother. "Y/N. She-"

"Y/N?" Tommy interrupted. "Tess' sister?"

"Yeah?"

"Wow," Tommy sighed, "Didn't think you'd get her to stick around. Been what? 5 years?"

"6 1/2 now."

Tommy nodded, "And… is she…?"

Joel frowned, "Is she what?"

"Is she yours, Joel?"

The older brother leaned forward on his stool, "What difference does it make?"

Tommy looked up with a sigh, "I have some… information. About her. I can keep it forever and let you continue to live with no knowledge, or I can tell you now and let you decide what to do with it."

"What kind of information?"

"Do you want to know or not, Joel?"

Joel let out a sigh of thought. Right when he thought he knew everything about that girl, she continued to be an enigma.

"Just tell me."

Tommy nodded, "Well.. this isn't… easy stuff to hear by any means…"

"Spit it out, Tommy."

"Alright, Jesus," Tommy exclaimed. "Y/N's family is here. In Jackson."

Joel's face dropped. "What? What family?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "A father and his boy. The boy is probably… I don't know… 20?"

Cam.

Oh, god. Cam was in Jackson after all this time.

"Are you sure?"

"Joel. I'm telling you what I know. A few years ago, this man came in with the boy. They're blood-related. I asked. Said they were father and son. Long story short, I'm friends with the man. I got him drunk one evening and he told me about this girl he knocked up in high school. I didn't connect everything he told me to Y/N until I saw her earlier today. So, for your sake, I hope I'm wrong."

"What's the boy's name?"

"Joel, c'mon."

"The. Name. Tommy."

Tommy sighed, "Cameron."

Jesus Christ.

"Alright." Joel nodded. "When are you gonna tell the others?"

"Hey," Tommy stepped back with his hands up, "This is none of my business. I'm leaving this shit with you. Whatever you two have is entirely yours, alright? If you wanna tell her, be my guest. If not, no one will know. Okay?"

Joel scoffed, "Why wouldn't I tell a mother her child is alive, Tommy? What the fuck?"

"I thought that too, at first. But, you tell Y/N, and suddenly she has a family. A husband and a kid. And you and Ellie are replaced."

Joel's teeth began to hurt from his clenched jaw.

"Now, if it was me," Tommy continued, "It would hurt to tell Maria, but I'd do it if I knew it would guarantee her happiness. But you're not me, Joel. And honestly, this is the last chance you'll ever get at a family. The ball is in your court now."

The tension in the room was becoming unbearable.

Joel hadn't considered this outcome at all. If Cam was alive, how did he get here? And how did the father find him? What if Tommy is wrong, and he could get Y/N's hopes up only to drag her back down into what she was when he was taken the first time. He had an important decision to think on. But he couldn't. So, he changed the subject.

"This ride to the University, is it a suicide mission?"

"No. Not for you. We've had people go out there and come back. What is this, Joel?"

"Ellie is immune."

"What?"

"The girl is immune."

Tommy pulled out a stool and sat in front of Joel, "From the beginning."

..........................................................

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje

#joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

231 notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

hii my love! would u mind doing a little blurb on miguel finding out the woman he has been seeing is a stripper? she just feels so embarrassed to admit that and scared It would drive him away but instead he’s pretty much more open about it and become far too protective too. thank you:))

OMG ANON YOU DON'T KNOW HOW OUR BRAINS CONNECTED because listen : i have an au in mind where my spiderpersona is a succub in a strip club, and basically when Miguel is brought there by his friends, they meet

SO YEA i'm living for stripper!reader x miguel (also this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away fdkzefrgd - the club scene from Closer really inspired me for this)... now i want to make a multiple chapter fic on stripper!reader x miguel hELP

summary : miguel discovers you're a stripper

content warnings : NSFW, stripper!reader, reader gives a little private show to miguel (just removes the top though, doesn't reveal the cunt), fem!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 2k song mentionned : world outside - the devlins

tag list : @fandom-ash

Up until now, you had decided to keep your professional occupation to Miguel, for one simple reason: fear.

Fear filled your stomach at the thought of telling him you were a stripper. You and Miguel had been dating for some time, and had quickly become close. The bond was shaping up to be strong, and you were worried that the information about your job would ruin everything.

He'd already asked you a few times what you were doing, but you'd always managed to deflect the subject elegantly. Yet there's no stopping Miguel's determination and curiosity, least of all when the topic of conversation turns out to be you.

So he did something he wasn't particularly proud of, but couldn't resist: while you were out working, he asked Lyla where you were.

She'd given him an address, and some information about it...

"A club?" he'd asked, looking at the street information for the address. "A strip club," Lyla had corrected. "There's no mistake? Are you sure?" he'd questioned, taking a closer look at the establishment's hours and information. "Have you ever seen me calculate a lot of errors?" sighed the artificial intelligence.

Never. Hardly ever had he seen her fail in this area. Maybe you weren't really a dancer there, maybe you were a bartender, or a waitress, who knows. Only, the idea of seeing you wearing a fine outfit and swaying on a stage was strangely appealing to him.

Without missing a beat, he made his way to the address. It wasn't far, which surprised him as much as it reassured him. The very idea that your place of work wasn't far from home appealed to him, as it ensured that if you ever needed to be picked up for any reason, he'd be there.

He arrived at the entrance, breathing in, passed the bouncers who joked that with his build he could get into the business, and entered.

Blue light from two corner spotlights illuminated red velvet-covered staircases leading downwards. He moved forward, the mirrored walls reflecting him. The room's bass could already be heard from outside, but now he could hear the music more clearly.

You light up my dreams, light up my skin. You're so far away, you're holding it in.

The place was quite crowded, and Miguel noticed a fair number of men in suits and ties. He wouldn't have cared in any other context about the consumption habits of these men here, but suddenly the very idea that there were potentially regulars coming to see you displeased him enormously.

As for the place, it smelled of violets and lemongrass. The ceiling was high, revealing a second floor from which hung three chandeliers surrounded by red cubes.

Spotlights were placed here and there, illuminating the important places: the round tables, like the one next to Miguel on which two women on their knees were swaying, undressing each other under the watchful eyes of all the men around the table; the U-shaped bar, from either end of which women were dancing in wisps of sinuous white smoke; and pole-dancing pedestals on their red-lit floor that emphasized the curves of the dancers placed on them.

And he recognized one of the dancers: it was you.

It was an evening like any other, your garter belt was already generously stuffed with bills of various colors against your thigh and you'd already put on a private show. You were on the pole bar, dancing and undulating your body against it under the round, adoring eyes of your little audience.

You'd been in the business for a while now, and you'd managed to make more friends than enemies in the club, enough so that your colleagues became your buddies.

In fact, your friend right next to you softly called your name, and you turned to her as you danced.

"Did you see the one that just came in? He's huge," she pointed out, smiling at the customers around you. "And pretty good looking too."

As you continued your endless choreography, you glanced surreptitiously at the said customer. But your heart dropped into your stomach for a moment as you met Miguel's gaze.

You hesitated between freezing on the spot and running away, but instead tried to keep your cool and your professionalism and continue your dance until he arrived near the pedestal.

"This one," you pointed out to your friend, "is for me."

She gave a little laugh as you motioned for another dancer to take your place and gracefully stepped off your pedestal, advancing towards Miguel as you would a normal customer

"So this was where you were hiding?" asked Miguel a little above the music, tilting his head to the side as he looked you up and down.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, as inquisitive as you were nervous.

"Curiosity got the better of me, and I was right to give in to temptation."

He was watching your outfit, which emphasized your body, your curves highlighted by the glitter and rhinestones mixed with the laces. You were close to him, almost to the point where a simple movement on Miguel's part would allow your two bodies to meet.

"But I'd prefer to discuss this somewhere else...?" he says.

"I'm in the middle of working hours, but... how about a private show?" you offered, drawing even closer to him as your eyes seemed to him irresistible through your lashes.

He shuddered.

"I'd like that."

You smiled softly, taking his hand to guide him towards one of the Paradise Suites. You guided him a little further until you came to a door you knew well and opened it to let him in.

A round sofa circled a round table at its center, the latter illuminated in pink. A strip of light circled the sofa, another path laid out to encourage strippers to be creative and use the room as they saw fit. You weren't expecting to give Miguel a private show tonight, but fate had played a nice trick on you.

You guided him to the sofa, letting him settle there as you climbed up on the table, looking at him with eyes that were usually calculated to convey desire, but this time really felt it.

And he looked at you with, his were dark, pools of ink attentive to your every move.

"How long have you been doing this?" he'd ask, his attention unwavering.

"Five months," you toyed lightly with one of your shoulder straps as you let your other hand roam your body.

He was going to be able to ask you all the questions that came to mind, only if he didn't get too distracted by your beauty.

"Are you allowed to flirt?" he asked.

"Yes, I am." you replied, letting your hand slide down your chest.

"Do you have any regulars?" he leaned forward, his head tilted back to watch you dance.

"Yes, I do. Private clients as well." you turned, your back to him to loosen your corset behind your waist, undulating your body.

The idea that you had regular clients here wasn't disturbing, but the fact that you had private ones displeased him a little more, for the fact that your security was much less framed than it was here.

"I want names."

You let out a small laugh as you turned to face him again.

"You want to make me lose my job?" you knelt on the round table to get to his level.

"No, I want to replace them." he said, his eyes moving from yours to your fingers removing the first strap.

"I'm not allowed to have relationships outside of the club with clients," you countered, tracing the skin of your bare thigh sensually.

"And what do you usually do?" his chest puffed out as he inhaled, feeling a little hotter little by little.

"I dance, I talk, I laugh, I strip, and that is all." you confirmed as you removed the second strap, and with a simple movement unhooked the little clip between your breasts to reveal them.

His eyes were eager, watching your perfect breasts as he parted his lips, mouth agape.

"No touching?" he questioned, eyes still on your body.

"No touching, you can just slide the tips in the garter belt" you advised, your hand sliding against the latter where a few bills were lodged.

"What would happen if I touched you now?" he asked, moving a little closer to the edge of the sofa.

"I would like it," you said, shifting your legs over the front to stand up again on the table gently, "but the security cameras would notice, and probably get you out of here."

Miguel looked up, just above the table, on the ceiling, was a small half globe with a small point of red light.

"Pays well?

"Very well." you smiled, your hands playing dangerously with the string of your thong.

"How much will it cost me to be here with you?"

Miguel wasn't afraid of going broke here, especially for you, he was plenty rich enough for that.

"Depends on what you want." thinking that maybe Miguel didn't want to make you work right now, you got off the table and climbed onto the sofa and then its edge instead, sitting there.

"How high are the prices? I haven't seen the menu of services."

"Our VIP options can go up to 1500 dollars." you say wearily, pretending to walk your index and middle fingers in his direction on the strip of light.

"1500?" he almost exclaimed, raising his eyebrows.

"Mhm," you hummed, "two hours with two dancers and a bottle of Don Perignon."

He turned towards you, coming closer, his head level with your thigh as his eyes inevitably fell on the bills you'd been given.

"And what's the price if I only want you and nothing else with me?" he questioned as his gaze returned to yours.

"Here, from 80 dollars I can give you a 10-minute air dance." you said as you leaned towards him, your faces close but not yet touching. "Outside, nothing."

A small, proud smile appeared on his lips. However, you being far too hot and gorgeous, he was beginning to feel tight in his clothes, especially his pants.

"What time do you get off?" he asked, sitting up differently, your eyes falling on his crotch and smiling as you bit your lip.

"Five o'clock. Will you last until then?"

He sighed, his eyes falling on your lips, eager.

"I just don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands to myself."

You smiled, then straightened up, reaching for your top. But Miguel took his wallet out of his pocket and slipped a bill under your garter belt. To be deprived of a view like this? Never. You smile a little more, and sit back down on the table, kneeling upright to let him get a good look at you.

He leaned towards you again, intertwining his fingers as his gaze softened slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You sighed, biting your cheek as you looked down at your hands carefully placed in your lap.

"I was scared," you admitted with a sigh. "Scared that this would end what we have."

You knew that not all men or simply partners were comfortable with their halves being strippers, and the idea that Miguel shared that opinion terrified you.

"Nena," he called your nickname.

Your head was still down, and you felt the soft sensation of money paper under your chin. Miguel straightened your jaw with a bill, bringing his eyes to yours.

"This isn't a problem to me." he smiled, lowering his hand to place the bill under the elastic of your belt. "This is actually really good."

Confusion seized you along with relief, causing you to frown while sporting a grin.

"Why?"

He tilted his head to one side, smiling proudly.

"I get the satisfaction for everyone to see how gorgeous you are, while being the only one who has the right to touch you."

You let out a small burst of voice somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, the relief of his answer washing over you like a wave of comfort.

After that, he'd deserved more than just a show.

776 notes · View notes

mrghostrat · 2 months

Note

Hello and good morning/day/night :]

I was wondering, in BNF, we’ve gotten tiny little bits of information about the ‘Nice and Accurate Prophecies’ (not sure if that’s the correct title, sorry) book and TV series, if there was anything else you could tell us about it?

Character names, storylines, plots, any fun details you may have made up or otherwise, etc, etc.

I just think it’s sweet how interested both Aziraphale and Crowley are in the series, and if you might be as interested, if not more, in it too.

Thank you, and have a lovely Sunday. 🫶

this is it, my leash has snapped, i'm wild in the streets, thank u for asking; i'm gonna go be insufferable now

(hi @neil-gaiman if you see this, i think it's safe to read, but it does border on being fan fic. i'm writing a fic where crowley and aziraphale are an artist + writer in an online fandom, much like we are for good omens, and this is the fake story i've made for them to be fans of 💛)

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

info dump of the fake 5 book series by Agnes Nutter (1985-1992) and its fake fandom:

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

The Strange and Improbable Prophecy

The Vague and Perfidious Prophecy

The Tense and Harrowing Prophecy

The Faint and Ineffable Prophecy

a dramatic, layered story with a bizarre and unexpectedly lovable cast of characters, humour that hits you out of nowhere, and a lot of attitude from the narrator. a la Good Omens, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

fantasy/historical fantasy and mildly action & romance

a la good omens, a witch and a witchfinder become friends and help each other throughout history, despite being on opposite sides. they get closer as they fight against the immoral plays from their prospective sides (the witchfinder army and a demonic cult the witch was born into) that each lose sight of their core values in a bid to hold more power over the world.

the story is set primarily in a medieval fantasy era, but suddenly jumps to the present in the later books, catching everyone off guard and giving a whole new context to enjoy the story. the challenges they face parallel the earlier story but in a modern take with modern technological twists. the modern era is the late 80s, since that's when it was written.

the witch reincarnates, similar to doctor who, due to a high class black magic ritual they performed in their arrogant youth (which they were NOT supposed to have access to). they've had long lifetimes where they die of old age, and others where they've barely managed to live a year. their reincarnations aren't entirely random; they will reincarnate according to their growth and preferences as a person (a la Magical Boy's magical outfit generations), which includes fluctuation in gender identity. their pronouns fluctuate depending on each "face" they wear, but have canonically been a "they" before. the good side of the fandom (crowley & aziraphale) default to they/them as an overall rule. they do have a name, but they like to change that too, so the fandom almost exclusively calls them witch, or witchy.

the witchfinder also has a name, but the fandom have taken to calling him witchfinder to match the fact that witchy is called by their role. it also helps that a lot of the witchfinder narration refers to him by role instead of name. he is human, 30ish in appearance, but at the end of the first book, the witch fears to lose him and curses him with immortality against his knowledge to try and keep him safe.

witch is crowley-coded, witchfinder is aziraphale-coded. my to-do list includes an illustration of the two of them played by michael and david :') but i picture them being kind of like newt and anathema for the most part.

ship names include witch/finder, witchwitch, w² or witch², and witchfound.

at the start of the first book, they meet and become friends without knowing each other is a witch & finder. the witchfinder is a bit bumbly, like newt, and the witch is cool and suave but neurotic and insecure like many human au variations of crowley (major overcompensation vibes). witch is male at the start of the first book. their friendship is secure when witch finds out he's a witchfinder, so there's less "oh my god i'm friends with the enemy, is he going to kill me in my sleep?" and more "ah fuck, Lets Drink About This"

there's battles, horseback riding, camping out in dark woods, disappearing and losing each other for months at a time, and many missed connections as they try to work together against two common enemies, whilst keeping up the facade that they're on their respective team's sides.

there's charged chemistry in the first book, but it's more plot heavy. there's hints of shippy moments in the 2nd book that fall in between the plot. there's a Moment of almost confession in the 3rd book, and a non romantic kiss towards the end (we gotta, for neil). they're pretty much married in the 4th book, securely at each other's side, but never actually talk about it until the end, and there's a more explicitly stated shippy connection in the 5th book.

agnes herself is a total recluse who drops books out of nowhere then goes back to existing somewhere in the english countryside (people presume). she's happy to supply signed copies to fundraisers and conventions, and sometimes random bookshops across the country will be vandalised with genuine autographs on the inside covers. she's notoriously pedantic about being involved with adaptions behind the scenes, but she has no social media and isn't ~around~. she once did a talk when she was presented with an honorary doctorate, and did a single book signing when the first Prophecy book came out, but beyond that she keeps to herself.

there are a small handful of quotes from her in behind-the-scenes footage talking vaguely about character intensions and clarifying world building, but she likes to leave things up to interpretation like neil does. it's in these few snippets of interaction we've seen from her that she's steadfastly supportive of intersectionality and lgbt rights, like staring dead-eyed at an interviewer when they ask her a ridiculously heteronormative question about the characters (like "have you read my books?")

adaptions include:

(most adaptions start like the book, with a male witch at the beginning that turns into a female witch when they first regenerate. the early ones usually change the pacing by switching to a female actor by the time they realise witchfinder is a witchfinder, unlike in the book where he's male for this scene, and there's way less Charged™ chemistry between the m/m witch/finder.)

Feature Film: late 90s, kind of cheesy, but good spirited fantasy (a la Indiana Jones). focuses on the first book alone, with hints to a sequel that never happened.

Abandoned TV Pilot: early 2000s, a little too dramatic but still a good time (a la the Dungeons and Dragons 2000, ASOUE 2004). good source of gifs and Moments™ but the fandom is generally Fine with it being abandoned.

Stage Performance: late 2000s-early 2010s, a stellar stage adaption of the first book with elements of the 90s movie. f/m witch/finder the whole way through. one cast used m/m actors but it was a short run and only a handful of fans were lucky enough to catch or remember it. crowley would give his left arm (or someone's, anyway) to have experienced it, so a fan sent him some flip phone camera footage of it that he keeps on a harddrive in his safe.

HBO Streaming Series: late 2010s-present, high quality, highly revered, resurged the fandom's popularity and spread the series further overseas. made in america, but doesn't try to americanise the series. extremely respectful to the books, with easter eggs to the film, and is working its way through the entire book series (a la The Witcher netflix series). f/m witch/finder, but has had one episode that included some flash backs/montages of different witch faces. probably like 15 minutes total screentime of a male witch played by a ncuti gatwa level/style of actor, which the fandom has giffed, edited, and screencapped to oblivion.

Several bonus books: Agnes has written a few extra books (a la The Unauthorized Autobiography of Lemony Snicket and The Beatrice Letters), as well as curated some anthologies from other authors (a la A Study In Sherlock). there are a total of 3 anthologies so far, in which other authors have written stories about the characters in their own tellings. basically like canonised, published fan fiction, curated and authorised by agnes herself. There's also an unfinished graphic novel that retells the book series (a la The Adventure Zone comic), but has been WIP/unheard of since the 3rd book.

#ask a rat #fuck i lvoe this fucking fakedom #bnf au #i cannot get it out of my head #rat writes

268 notes · View notes

poisonlove · 5 months

Text

To trust.... you? | Lucy Gray

Lucy gray x fem reader

The gray of the sky reflected in tense faces and streets still marked by war marked the tenth anniversary of Capitol's Victory over the districts. Ten years of oppression that still echoed in the open wounds of society.

That year, in the insidious game of the Hunger Games, the 12 districts found themselves facing amplified cruelty. No longer were two tributes randomly drawn, but an intricate and ruthless tournament with separate female and male competitions in arenas.

In this special edition for Capitol City, each district had to send not one, but two tributes of both sexes, bringing the total to 48 tributes. The stakes were higher, and the air was tense as the boys and girls from District 12 faced an even more uncertain fate in this game orchestrated by Capitol cruelty.

Y/N Y/S and Lucy Gray were the girls destined to fight in this arena.

Y/N Pov's

My breath is ragged as I stare anxiously at the Arena screen. Every countdown from the charismatic host Lucky Flickerman tightens my heart, creating an atmosphere laden with anxiety. Each second lost in those numbers is a step closer to the unknown, a uncertain dance with destiny.

I quickly shift my attention to my District 12 companion, Lucy Gray. The only thing I knew about her is that she's an excellent singer, as she demonstrated during the tribute selection.

I see her on the other side of the Arena, eyes as black as coal gleaming with challenge as she watches the screen. Her ruffled, colorful skirt stands out remarkably in this dark and colorless environment, making her almost a visible beacon to the enemy.

And speaking of enemies, there's no doubt that the girls from Districts 4, 2, and 7 are the most dangerous. Not because of social matters, slightly better off than ours, but due to their impressive physical presence. They are robust, muscular, and in this lethal context, their strength makes them formidable adversaries.

"I just need to run and hide," I mutter distractedly, recalling the words of my mentor Coriolanus Snow. Lucy Gray, with her mentor Sejanus Plinth, prepares for the sound of the gong, and the fierce struggle among the girls begins.

I find myself almost disoriented in that area, intimidated by the cries and the sounds of swords and knives among the girls. I widen my eyes and throw myself to the ground, seeing a trident flying in my direction.

"Please, don't do this!" I exclaim in terror.

The girl from District 6 walks determinedly toward me, retrieving the trident she had thrown. "There's no room for mercy here. We survive or die, and you're in my way," she declares venomously.

I retreat in fear, dragging my palms on the arena ground, aware that my end might be imminent. The girl from District 6 raises the trident, ready to strike when suddenly a knife lodges in her neck. Her gaze instantly fades, and I find myself staring at the scene in wide-eyed surprise.

I quickly get up, ready to flee, when a sharp pain in my leg stops me. With gritted teeth, I turn and see the girl from District 11, with a sly look and a barely perceptible disappointment for missing the shot.

"You'll be mine… girl from 12," she murmurs with an unsettling smile, announcing my imminent death sentence.

I pull out the knife and, with the other hand, apply pressure to my leg.

With determination, I begin to walk towards the underground, trying to avoid further unpleasant encounters. The pain in my leg is a constant reminder of the brutality of this Arena, and my determination ignites as I seek refuge in the darkest recesses of the hostile environment.

I sneak into a room, the escape from the Arena's fury etched in my tired eyes. I slump near a wall, feeling the weight of exhaustion and the throbbing pain from the leg wound. The room offers a moment of respite, but the labored breath reveals physical and mental fatigue.

To my surprise, Lucy Gray is there, also seeking refuge. Our eyes meet in an instant, a palpable tension in the adrenaline-charged air.

I shaky point the knife at Lucy, eager to defend myself. In a gesture of surrender, she raises her hands.

"I don't want to hurt you," Lucy whispers, her gaze fixed on the knife in my hand.

I flash a sarcastic smile. "And how do I know that? We're in the Hunger Games; you can't trust anyone," I murmur, holding back the pain in my leg.

"I understand… but I have no reason to attack you… of course, if you do, I'll be forced to defend myself," Lucy says, cautiously advancing in my direction.

"Stop right there," I state seriously, the hand still unsteady.

Lucy looks at me with eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her gaze lands on my bleeding leg. "I could help you," she murmurs softly. "It doesn't look like a good wound," she adds, grimacing.

"Don't even think about it," I retort through gritted teeth.

"We come from the same district… can't we have a truce?" she asks, sounding annoyed.

I consider her proposal, recognizing that help would be advantageous at this moment. "We're destined to kill each other sooner or later, but maybe we can make the journey a bit more interesting," I exclaim, looking at her carefully, my vision starting to blur from the effort.

"You made a wise choice, girl from 12. We're stronger together," Lucy exclaims with a small smile on her lips.

"Y/N," I murmur, shaking the knife, pointing it at Lucy. "If I die, at least you'll know my name," I confess, and she looks at me attentively. "Lucy," she whispers, and I chuckle weakly.

"I know who you are, Capitol's songbird," I murmur and suppress a groan of pain, feeling a new stab in my leg.

It's the first time we've spoken since we were drawn from the urn.

I lower the knife, allowing Lucy to approach. The truce, uncertain but necessary, casts a strange shadow on the competition. Lucy kneels, examining my leg carefully. "I need the knife," she suddenly exclaims.

"You can forget about that," I assert with determination.

Lucy huffs and looks up at me, her eyes staring into mine with intensity. "I just told you I don't want to hurt you," she retorts firmly.

I huff in return and hand the knife to Lucy. In the gesture, our fingers brush, generating a shiver that runs down my spine. Cheeks tinged with red as I avert my gaze toward the knife, watching her cut a piece of her ruffled skirt.

"What are you doing?" I ask with curiosity, and she continues to cut the fabric of her dress.

"I'm trying to keep you alive," she whispers weakly. "I had to ruin my mother's dress… but I think it will help with the wound," she continues, wrapping the fabric around my wound to stop the bleeding.

The silence shatters with the sound of screams from outside. The fierce competition continues, but in this room, our moment of truce is a fragile flame burning against the cold reality of the Hunger Games.

***

Three relentless days have passed since the games began, and now, in the dark theater of the arena, only four of us remain. Me, Lucy, the unstable girl from District 11 with an obsession to kill me, and the fierce one from District 2.

Lying in our refuge, I feel my body slightly heavy from fever and the pain in my wounded leg. Lucy, with her determined kindness, has taken care of me as if I were precious. I find myself playing with a small pebble, wrapping my fingers around the cold stone as I wait for Lucy's return, each moment growing longer.

The Capitol's nightingale had gone out to fetch water and food, but her prolonged absence fuels my concern. The sound of approaching footsteps grabs my attention, and my heart flutters at the thought that other tributes might have discovered our hiding place.

I rise to my feet with cautious timidity, brushing my hand against the knife at my belt, preparing for the worst. Tension creeps into the air as I wait in silence, eyes fixed on the iron door. I release a sigh of relief when I finally see Lucy's figure emerge through the door, holding a water bottle in her hands.

Her genuine smile and the sparkle in her eyes reassure me in an instant.

With graceful steps, Lucy approaches, but the unusual light in her eyes doesn't escape my notice. "Why did you get up despite the fever?" she asks with a slightly reproachful tone, but her gaze reveals genuine concern. "I was worried there might be another tribute nearby," I reply with a faint smile.

Lucy nods, understanding my unease.

Lucy comes closer and sits beside me, looking at me curiously. "Sit," she says gently, indicating a space next to her. Reluctantly, I obey without complaints.

With a small smile, Lucy rests my head on her lap, gently stroking my hair. "I feel useless," I confess in a low voice, "I haven't done anything in these three days," I add timidly.

Lucy looks down at me with unreadable eyes. "You kept me company," Lucy murmurs gently, smiling sideways. She leans down and kisses my forehead, a gesture that makes me blush. When she pulls away, Lucy widens her smile. "Well, the fever is gone," she breathes a sigh of relief. "How do you know?" I ask curiously, and Lucy smiles widely, "Your forehead is cool now. Sit, and I'll change your bandage," she murmurs sweetly.

I obey without hesitation, feeling grateful for Lucy's care. As she changes the bandage on my wound, our silent dialogue continues, and in that moment in the heart of that ruthless arena, I find comfort in Lucy's kindness.

"Done," Lucy murmurs weakly, lifting her head. Her smile fades when she notices the proximity between our faces, her eyes relaxing, looking at me seriously through long lashes.

Lucy bends down shyly, and my heart begins to beat faster as she gently places her lips against mine in a sweet and unexpected kiss. A thrill of emotion runs through my body, and for a moment, the arena and the cruel reality around us seem to fade, replaced by the sweetness of that unexpected gesture.

Lucy withdraws shyly, almost instantly breaking the kiss.

"Don't you think there's something wrong?" I ask breathlessly, still stunned by the effect of the kiss.

Lucy tilts her head sideways, curious. "Because we're two girls? If that bothers you, no one is seeing us..." Lucy murmurs softly, almost disappointed by my reaction.

"No... it's not strange for two girls to kiss... but the fact that sooner or later we'll have to kill each other," I exclaim with terror.

Lucy sighs and firmly grasps my face, looking at me with bright eyes. "In one way or another, you and I will get out together," she whispers almost against my lips.

Her thumb gently strokes my lower lip as she bites her own before leaning in again. Our lips meet in a quick movement, a kiss that conveys a promise and a challenge, all within the context of that merciless arena.

After our kiss, I notice that Lucy's black hair is tousled, and a radiant smile paints her lips. It's a moment of sweetness and vulnerability, as if for a moment, we've stolen from the brutality of the Hunger Games a fragment of normalcy.

"And what if we got out, put an end to these cruel games?" I suggest with vibrant voice.

Lucy nods, her eyes tired but determined. "Yes, it's time to end all of this," she responds with a firmness that betrays her exhaustion but also her desire for freedom. The agreement between us forms in silence, a tacit understanding that in this distorted world, our union is our only salvation.

"We'll face whatever awaits us together," I say, trying to convey hope. "Our bond can defy the rules of this arena, offer us an existence beyond this cruelty."

Lucy, with eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and resilience, replies, "Yes, together we can make it."

With Lucy's smile as our guide, we prepare to conclude this struggle, aware that the strength of our union is our ace in the hole.

Lucy grasps my hand, intertwining our fingers with a grip that conveys solidarity. The sensation of her hand in mine brings a smile to my face, a ray of comfort amidst so much uncertainty. Timidly, limping due to the leg wound, we move together towards the entrance of the arena.

We walk slowly through the dark tunnel, our figures moving cautiously like blurred shadows. The sound of our footsteps resonates dully against the cold, damp walls. Lucy, with her determination, leads the way, while I, with a mixture of anxiety and hope, follow.

When we finally emerge from the darkness of the tunnel, I am blinded by the glaring sunlight. I raise a hand to shield my eyes, accustomed to the dimness of our illuminated refuge, but not to such intensity. The light, so bright and vivid, is almost a surprise, a revelation after days of darkness.

My figure emerges, outlined by the sun's glow, and for a moment, I stand still, as if the outside world is a new and unknown place. The arena's landscape unfolds slowly, and the warmth of the sun is like a caress on my skin, a welcome after days of cold and dampness.

Lucy, with a radiant smile, tightens her grip on my hand even more. Together, with determined steps, we head towards the uncertain destiny that awaits us, ready to face whatever comes next, but determined to do it together.

"Here's a sweet surprise in the arena! It seems a new love has blossomed in this bloody period. Ah, love, how beautiful even amidst arrows and knives!" Flickerman's surprised voice resonates in the arena, noting our intertwined hands.

The host's voice catches the attention of the girl from District 11, just coming off the killing of the tribute from District 2. When her eyes meet ours and see our intertwined hands, she genuinely smiles, savoring the hunt.

Lucy Gray watches the girl from District 11 closely.

"But look at that, two lovers in the arena. It will be a shame to separate you," says the girl from District 11 with false innocence.

"Better focus on what matters now. Survival," Lucy Gray murmurs venomously.

The girl from District 11 pushes Lucy away with a determined gesture and charges towards me. With a swift move, she manages to disengage from me and, surprisingly agile, positions herself astride my legs.

Lucy Gray, distant but watching attentively, rises from the abrupt fall she experienced earlier. Her eyes scan the scene with concern, our alliance now put to the test.

I try to recover from the surprise, feeling the pressure of the girl from District 11's legs over me. Her axe glints threateningly, and the awareness of vulnerability pushes me to find a way to defend myself.

"Looks like love doesn't protect from everything, does it?" the girl from District 11 murmurs with a sneer. Her laughter is sharp, and my struggle to recover is hindered by her skill. I watch Lucy Gray with a silent look, hoping our connection is strong enough to face this threat together. The situation becomes critical, and my hope focuses on every resource I can exploit to turn the tide of this ruthless battle.

I raise my arms, skillfully avoiding the descending axe. I look at the girl from District 11 with concern, ignoring her cutting remarks.

"Better focus on yourself now, don't you think?" I murmur firmly, giving a quick glance behind the girl from District 11.

Lucy, with determination, thrusts the trident into the back of the girl from District 11, the prongs emerging from her chest. A hiss of pain blends with the silence, followed by a final breath. The fight was short but intense, and the body of the girl from District 11 gives in, overcome by the fierceness of the clash.

The voice that echoed in the arena proclaimed: "The games end with the victory of the individual district!" The voice belonged to the strategist.

I turn to Lucy with overwhelming joy. My smile widens to 32 teeth, and in her black eyes, I find the same pure happiness. The awareness that I no longer have to try to kill my District 12 companion translates into a tangible relief that permeates the atmosphere.

Ignoring the pain in my leg, I rise and stride with long steps towards Lucy. The trident is thrown to the ground, the metal still damp with the blood of the fallen tribute. Lucy, aware that only the two of us remain, launches herself into my arms with a mixture of fatigue and triumph.

From the euphoria of victory, Lucy firmly takes my cheeks, the warm contact of her hands contrasting with the cold of the trident just used. Her eyes shine with happiness and relief. Without words, but with an intense connection, Lucy kisses me with a passion that conveys the weight of the just-survived struggle. It's a moment of joy and survival, a celebration of a connection that has withstood the trials of the arena.

Lucy's hands, covered in dirt, firmly rest around my cheeks. Despite the dust and the fatigue of battle, I feel a strange sense of comfort.

Lucy, with eyes shining with vibrant intensity, looks at me as if she wants to read every emotion crossing my gaze. "It's just us two left," she says with a warm voice, a mix of emotion and relief.

I respond with an intense look, gratitude palpable in the air between us. "Yes, Lucy. We're still here."

Her hands move slowly from my cheeks, descending along my neck and delicately settling on my shoulders. "We've overcome all of this together."

"Also you, Lucy. Your strength has been my guide," I reply, smiling slightly as I feel the warmth of her hands on my skin.

Lucy, with a radiant smile, nods. "I couldn't have done it without you." Her hands move away, but only to grasp mine, intertwining our fingers in a gesture that underscores our connection.

Our gaze locks onto each other, and in our eyes, there's an awareness of what we've faced together. "Now that we're alone, we can make it, Lucy," I say, trying to convey the determination I feel inside me.

Lucy nods with seriousness. "Yes, y/n. We're strong together." With a sudden movement, her hands return to my face, and she kisses me again, this time with gentleness and gratitude. It's a gesture that speaks more than a thousand words, confirming the bond we've built through struggle and survival.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #district 12 #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #female #lesbian kissing #War #ribelli

338 notes · View notes

flanaganfilm · 10 months

Note

You have spoken about dealing with addiction in the past (congratulations on your sobriety, btw), and Hill House, Midnight Mass, Doctor Sleep, etc, all feature characters struggling with addiction. Do you find a sort of catharsis in writing those characters and their storylines, and do you find that having gone through that affects how you write those characters and their stories? p.s. if the question is too personal, I apologize. You are, of course, free to ignore it.

Happy to talk about it. I was writing about addiction long before I admitted having a problem. Looking all the way back to my student films, many years before Absentia, I can see myself starting to pick it apart. The fact is I was a really shitty drunk. I was absolutely a problem drinker. It was always that way, going back to school - I was never able to handle it, and there were times throughout my life starting very young when that thought would occur to me, and I'd get scared, and then I'd convince myself I was being dramatic and that I had no problem whatsoever.

The truth is that I didn't have an OFF switch, I was inclined to hide my drinking, and the older I got the more self-destructive I became when I was under the influence.

But I was also very committed to the belief that I could handle it, and that I didn't have an actual problem, so for years I'd coast by, telling myself whatever issues I may have had weren't so serious. "Nine times out of ten, I'm just fine - I'm the life of the party," I'd think. I wasn't, though, and soon enough it was 50/50 whether I'd have to make apologetic phone calls on a given hungover morning. And those stretches where'd I'd really let go and drink hard, the person who emerged was less and less like me. It got to the point I didn't recognize him at all - there was this stranger who lived inside, and if he got out, he was could destroy everything I held dear, and he didn't give two shits about it. Looking back at the last decade of my work with the perspective I have now, I can see an escalating subconscious urgency in the way I was talking about alcoholism and addiction. My 2003 student feature Ghosts of Hamilton Street features a wanna-be writer with a horribly self-destructive alcohol problem. The people in his life begin to physically disappear, and the world around him resets as though they never existed at all, so he's the only who notices. I was 25 years old when I made that movie, and looking at it now, the addiction issues are a huge blinking red light all over the movie. At the time, I thought it was just interesting context for the character.

I wrote the opening scene of Midnight Mass (which features Riley Flynn waking up from a blackout drunk driving session to find that he's killed someone) all the way back in 2010, eight years before I finally sobered up. That was always something I was absolutely terrified of - not that I'd die because of my drinking, but that I'd kill someone else and live with the consequences. That was probably my biggest fear for most of my life, if I'm honest. And there were mornings I'd wake up at home and wonder how the hell I'd driven myself there the night before. I remember those mornings with a stomach-turning degree of terror and shame.

It was always somewhat cathartic to write about characters with addiction issues. There's a long stretch between Absentia and Hill House where it appears that I'm not dealing with those themes in my work (though I'd argue there's a subtle addiction meditation at play in Before I Wake that I've only recently noticed), but I was also secretly working on Midnight Mass that entire time, and just pouring all of my thoughts and anxieties about alcoholism into that story. So while Oculus, Hush, Ouija: OOE, and Gerald's Game don't seem to dwell much on addiction, that's really because I was spending my nights pouring all of that into the pages of Midnight Mass, which existed alternately as a novel, a screenplay, and then a series during those years.

Working on Doctor Sleep is what brought it all to the surface for me. Stephen King's novel deals thoroughly with the theme of recovery (The Shining is about destruction of addiction, and Doctor Sleep is about the journey and reality of recovery), and a lot of people in my cast were sober. It was while we were shooting that film that I realized I needed to make a seismic change in my life.

My wife will say that reading the scene in Doctor Sleep where Dan sits at the Gold Room bar in the Overlook was when she knew I was reaching a critical moment. That scene isn't in King's book, and my first draft of that conversation between Dan and Jack was almost fifteen pages long. It's basically a prolonged argument between the addictive and sober voices in my mind, and writing that scene shook something loose in me. I stopped drinking just a few days before we filmed that scene for that movie, and I haven't had a drop since.

But for catharsis, Midnight Mass truly is the most personal piece of work I've ever made. Riley is a very thinly disguised avatar of myself. I look at that series and I see several distinct versions of myself in conversation with each other over more than a decade. I'm glad it took so long to get that show made, because if I'd made it in 2016 like I wanted to, I wouldn't have done a good job - there is no way I could have told that story until I was finally sober. If you listen closely to the AA meeting scenes between Riley and Father Paul throughout the series, you're basically looking directly into my conflicted brain over many, many years.

This year is my fifth year sober, and I spend my days happy, busy, and so grateful that I was able to make those changes before my drinking destroyed my career, my marriage, and my life. I was lucky. I am lucky. But since I finished Midnight Mass, I haven't felt that pull when I'm writing. I haven't felt those themes elbowing their way into my work. That part of me is still in here (it always will be), but I feel like I was somehow able, over many years, to coax it to sleep. I'm sure I'll return to those themes over the years, as I hope to learn more about myself and have more to say... but for now, those voices are peaceful and quiet. I have projects on the horizon that will touch on some of those things (if I'm able to make The Dark Tower, there's some wonderful elements with Eddie's addiction issues that I look forward to exploring) but it feels different.

One of the things I hold onto when I look back at that time is the hope that the work can be helpful to someone else who may struggle in a similar way. And talking to fans, I've heard here and there that it has, and that means the world to me. I think storytellers can't help but use their stories as a mirror, it's one of the ways we take ourselves apart, look at the pieces, and put them back. It's one of the only ways we can see ourselves clearly.

Sometimes we don't even realize we're doing it. It's only looking back that we can see ourselves, and our work, with any real clarity.

#midnight mass #alcoholism #sobriety

580 notes · View notes

ivymarquis · 4 months

Note

Hi loves 💕💕 I saw requests are open so I figured I'd send one in! I absolutely love your work you're so talented and I binge read all of your fics!!

I would like to request fem reader x soap where Soaps wife adopted a dog she found on the streets and keeps her even though he hates the idea.( he has a cannon fear of dogs which I find a little funny) slowly but surely he warms up to the dog but not fully. While he's out on a mission there's a robbery and the dog protects the reader and scares off the intruder. Soap hears about this and is instantly is best friends with the dog because even though he hates dogs he loves that the pup will protect his wife (I also hc that mabey it's not a street dog but a retired k9 reader adopted to feel safe while he was gone and she just didn't tell him until he comes home and sees a dog. it's up to you what you pick💓)

Hello anon I appreciate your patience!! I did pick and choose a wee bit to make the fic make sense for me, I hope you like it!

The Exception to the Rule

Pairing| Soap x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 1.9K Content/Warnings| Housekeeping first- this fic is SFW so if you find it in the tags I won’t be bothered about minors reading it but I am an MDNI blog and I will block any minors or ageless blogs who follow me. Got it? Cool. The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent, likely inaccuracies about how military dogs in general or bomb dogs in specific work. Allusions to prior animal injury, allusion to potential dog choking (in the context of choking off a working dog who won’t release its quarry), allusion to home invasion, dog bites, Johnny is not happy, the author does not condone getting animals you know your partner has issues with (but the plot necessitates it so on we go!)

Soap knows his wife well enough to know when she’s taken a “ask for forgiveness rather than permission” course of action. It’s written all over her face when she accepts his FaceTime call and answers his greeting of “What did ya dae, hen?“ with a “Please don’t be mad.”

Now certain men might have to worry about their brides stepping out on them on deployment. Soap knows her well enough to not even entertain that notion, so the wheels start turning for what exactly she could have done that has her looking this guilty out the gate.

The answer comes very suddenly in the form of a bark on the other end of the screen.

John Soap MacTavish sputters, something he is not often inclined to do, “Is that a fuckin’ dog?” And not just a dog. That wasn’t a little yappy fluffball who can be picked up with two fingers if need be. It sounds like one of the damn bomb dogs always yapping over in the kennels.

“Please don’t be mad!” She pleads again.

“Well a’m not happy, that’s for sure. Where and why did ye git that thing?”

This is completely out of character for her. Soap’s disdain for dogs (and why) is well known. She bloody well knows. So what the hell?

“It’s not permanent! You said this deployment would be a long one, and there’s been break ins in the neighborhood and I got nervous and my friend told me about this rescue group that helps rehome retired military dogs.” Her explanation is all in one breath. “They approved us” (Us??) ”as a foster family. He’s already got applications in for a permanent home. It just feels,” she pauses to catch her breath, and Soap can feel himself softening ever so minisculely to the dog- as long as he’s on the other side of the world, away from it, “safer here, with him here since you’re gone. The break ins have been really scary, they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

Fucking hell how is he supposed to argue with that? Especially if there’s some prick on the loose breaking into houses.

“Cujo better nae be oan th’ bed wi’ ye,” he grouses, acquiescing while still making his displeasure known.

“His name is Kabar and I’ll have the bed freshly stripped when you’re due back I promise.”

Soap is a god damn sucker for those pleading doe eyes, giving a big exasperated sigh to signal he’s letting her off the hook. “Fine. Bit he better be gaen by th’ time I pull intae th’ driveway. Let’s see th’ damn thing then,” Christ he hopes it’s not a Belgian Malinois. He knows they’re popular for military dogs but his darling is not built to handle a maligator, retired or not.

“Okay hang on,” she replies, notably cheerier as she taps the screen.

It’s a German Shepherd, thank fuck (Johnny must be having a stroke to be grateful for the sight of a German Shepherd in his bed)

He knows as well as anyone else they can be intense, but they’re a step down from the Malinois at least.

The coloring is traditional, but Soap’s brain starts nudging him that something is wrong with the dog. It takes a moment to click before he realizes the problem.

The damn dog only has three legs. “Is he a tripod?” The question is out before he can stop himself because no he is not inquiring about the damn dog. It was just a thought that escaped.

“He is a disabled veteran!” His bride corrects cheekily, before much more solemnly adding “He was a bomb dog.”

Oh Christ. He did not need to know that. Doesn’t need to think about the damn animal waking up one day with four legs and clocking in to work with his handler before boom.

“A’m only entertaining this because of the break ins, hen, am ah clear?”

Maybe having that booming bark rattling the windows will keep any would-be intruders at bay. This is the worst part of the job- being stuck on what might as well be the other side of the world when she’s got something to deal with.

“Absolutely crystal clear!” She’s all too agreeable, pleased as hell to have her cake (the dog) and eat it too (Johnny tolerating it).

Somehow this is going to blow up in his face and he’s going to permanently end up with a fucking military dog he doesn’t want, he just knows it.

But there’s no fucking way he can tell her No. Absolutely not. He goes back today, with a potential threat lurking around the neighborhood. He’d never forgive himself.

The rest of the conversation is much more in line with what he usually anticipates with their phone calls being- He doesn’t much like talking about work off the clock although lets her know of any interesting shenanigans around the base, and listening with baited breath as she regails him of tales both extraordinary and, well, extra ordinary.

Usually their phone calls end when she passes out in bed, and they’re perfectly poised to continue that habit tonight also.

“Ye made sure all th’ doors and windows are locked, hen?” He asks as she starts snuggling into the bedding underneath her.

“Yeah Johnny, I,” she cuts herself off with a big yawn “-I double checked them.”

It’s a few minutes later that the phone slips from her hand, camera pointing at the ceiling as she drifts off.

Johnny can almost imagine he’s at home laying on his back, watching the rhythmic movements of the ceiling fan in time with his lovely girl snoring slightly in his ear (despite her verbose protests that no she doesn’t snore- okay. Whatever you say, gorgeous.)

It’s an incredibly comforting moment that lets him feel a bit closer to home that is ruined by the sound of snuffling by the speaker.

The dog’s nose appears on screen, the angle making him look like an aardvark as he sniffs the phone before laying down, presumably relishing in the fact there’s not a damn thing Soap can do about this situation.

“Ye better keep an eye oan my girl, Cujo.” Soap grumbles as he begrudgingly hangs up the phone.

The mission ends quicker than expected- substantially quicker- and as content as Soap is with getting home he also is annoyed.

The mission got cut so short, and it’s so damn late by the time Soap is driving home that he knows the fucking dog is still there. The agreed upon date has not yet passed, which means that fuck is lazing about on his side of the bed.

Not to mention the mere obstacle of convincing a former military dog he’s never met, in the middle of the night, that yes this is his fucking house and he’s the one paying the bills around here and yes that actually is his spot on the bed so kindly fuck off.

At a point during his drive home, a police car flies by him. Then another. Then another.

Must be the fucker that’s been breaking into homes. Hopefully he gets caught and that’s one less thing to worry about when Johnny leaves again.

Except the red and blue lights seem to be fucking honed in from the spot that he’s steadily driving to, and Johnny’s convinving himself that he’s seeing things. There is no way that those lights and sirens are stemming from his house, thank you very much.

Even still, he feels himself driving faster. The sooner to quiet his anxiety that’s brewing.

The anxiety doesn’t dissipate as he makes each turn to his home. If anything it gets worse.

Because all that noise and the flashing lights are stemming from his own fucking home. Johnny can barely get the thing in park before he’s flying out of the vehicle. He can hear screams and specifically her crying and in an instant Johnny’s beyond being keyed up.

One of the officers attempts to intercept Johnny- thinks he’s just some nosy fuck from who knows where- and it takes everything in him not to blow his top entirely as he cuts the man off with a stern “This is mah house ‘n she’s mah wife!”

The sound of his voice booming into the night is enough to catch her attention and bring her running to him. Johnny embraces her as she flings herself at him, crying into his shirt as he strokes her back and soothes her.

He can piece together the general what happened, although he’s completely unaware of the details.

One piece begins to fit into place as he starts to hear what all the screaming is. His initial attention completely fixated on ensuring his wife is whole and hale, now he can check that off the mental list he now has the bandwidth to listen to the bellowing.

“Git it aff me! Och Jesus, someone git it aff o' me!”

“Cannae git th’ damn thing tae release him,” Johnny hears one of the officers comment dryly.

“Can always choke him off if the owners can’t git him tae let go,” the other one supplies.

“Eh, ah guess,” the first one responds in a bored tone that makes it clear he has a this guy fucked around and now he’s finding out, and I don’t see a reason to hurry- the dog looks happy anyway, stance to the situation.

On the side of the house, face down in the grass is the man who presumably broke inside.

He is so incredibly lucky there are witnesses and a sobbing wife to curtail the dark, angry thoughts swirling around in Johnny’s brain. Otherwise all it would take would be one phone call to Laswell and this prick disappears forever.

Attached to the calf of that man is Cujo, happily laying on the ground with his tail wagging slowly like his teeth aren’t sunk inside a man’s flesh. If the dog gets too annoyed with the man’s wiggling he shakes him like a chew toy, starting up a fresh round of someone git this fucking dog aff o’ me! until he lays still.

The mention of choking the dog off the would-be intruder doesn’t slip past his darling in the slightest, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.

Damn it all, he’s always a sucker for that look.

“Johnny, do you know how to make him let go? I don’t want him choked!”

He decides she’s probably better off not being told how often that ends up having to happen, and that Cujo will be just fine minus a few brain cells if push comes to shove.

But he has spent enough time (against his will, mind) around the dogs that he’s learned the basic commands over the years through repeated exposure.

“No promises, hen, bit we’ll see.” The dog has never met him a day in his life- there’s no guarantee he’s going to listen to a man that’s a stranger barking orders at him, but Johnny gives the sharp German command anyway.

To his surprise, the dog lets go immediately and turns towards them, giving the skipping lope that a 3 legged dog does before placing himself in a heel at Soap’s side, eyes wide and head tilted.

Johnny doesn’t want to think about what could have happened tonight if it wasn’t for Cujo- Kabar- taking such an involved roll in apprehending the man stupid enough to break into his home.

And he’s most assuredly not magically over his aversion to dogs- especially military dogs- but he might be able to tolerate an exception if it means having some peace of mind that his wife is safe at home.

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #my writing

321 notes · View notes

ghost-1-y · 7 months

Text

Temptation

Angel!Mitsuri x AFAB!Succubus!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, dark content, sacrilege, blasphemy, religious themes, dubcon (aphrodisiac), manipulation, sexual content, dom!reader, sub!Mitsuri, unprotected sex, oral (reader receiving), scissoring, virginity loss (Mitsuri), corruption k!nk, praise k!nk, degradation, hair pulling, concepts of "purification" and "chastity", concepts of sex and sexuality being "dirty" and "sinful", slight mentions of blood (not in a sexual context), use of bible verses (in italics), references to bible passages/stories, people who are religious may find this content offensive, please read with caution

Summary: Mitsuri had always done what she was told to do, glorifying her god and helping those who needed it. She never once thought about breaking the rules – much less her vow to chastity, until she found what initially appeared to be a human in a darkened alleyway in need of help, unknowingly falling into a trap that would corrupt her from holiness for the rest of eternity.

Word Count: ~3.3k

Divider Credit: the wonderful @/benkeibear

A/N: so, I used to be religious (Christian), so a lot of this might've come out of my own personal traumas that I experienced (eg. the concept of purification and chastity and being ashamed of having "dirty" thoughts). Obviously, I no longer hold these views (as evidence by writing these fics LMAO), but that somewhat influenced how I wrote this fic, maybe some of y'all will be able to relate? I hope you enjoy!!

Let your light shine before them in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.

Mitsuri loved the world, she loved humans and nature and all the beauty that existed in between. She would watch the sun rise upon the earth and how it would cast its rays upon trees and cities as life basked in its holy light.

She loved the night as well – how it brought tranquility and peace as those she watched over rested until the sun peeked over the horizon once more.

She sometimes wished that her light would not interfere with such serenity.

But the world also saddened Mitsuri, she mourned as those she loved from afar returned to dust underneath grassy knolls; her heart broke as she witnessed fighting amongst nations and arguments amongst lovers. She knew that loving the world would bring grief upon her, because the world was infested with sin.

The world would never be perfect, yet she loved it anyways.

So Mitsuri spent her eternity by helping those who needed it – taking on a human form so others wouldn’t be afraid. She helped by working in food banks and soup kitchens – oh how she adored those humans who set such wonderful services up – and would afterwards walk along roads to give food to those who, for whatever reason, found such services inaccessible to them. She would volunteer in hospitals, helping the sick in whatever way she could, and would listen to their stories and offer comfort should they share their suffering with her, holding their hand in hers to offer support – however small.

It was not a coincidence, then, that she caught sight of you, a human lying alone in a darkened alleyway, isolated from the bustling street that was doused in sunlight. You were covered in shadows to the point where it looked like darkness emanated from your body itself, curled up and alone – hiding within the stench of garbage and discarded roadkill.

Mitsuri approached you – her kindness limitless and unbounded by fear as her light blessed your shadowed figure, gentle and warm – a light that was neither blinding nor dim as you looked up at her.

“Are you alright, my love? My name is Mitsuri, I saw you here and wanted to help,” she smiled sweetly. It didn’t matter what language you spoke, since Mitsuri’s words would translate perfectly once they fell from her lips and graced your ears.

Burning lips and a wicked heart are like a potsherd covered with silver dross.

Teary eyed, you smiled up at her, “Thank you, I didn’t think anyone would come, but you’re here now.” Mitsuri’s gentle eyes looked over your condition, a cut on your forehead which was seeping a dark red, and smudges of dirt all over your body.

“Oh, love, let me get you cleaned up a bit!” Mitsuri exclaimed as she secretly materialized some cotton pads, pretending to fish them out of her pocket. She wiped the blood that was dripping down your face, “I don’t have antiseptic wipes on me, would you wait here as I go get them from a convenience store?” You nodded, staring past her shoulder.

If Mitsuri knew any better, she would’ve thought you could see her wings.

Mitsuri rushed across the street and bought the antiseptic wipes, more cotton pads, and a couple bottles of water before running back to help you. She knelt beside you, and began cleaning up your face. “You know, you should take better care of yourself,” she smiled softly as she wet the cotton pads with water and began wiping away the smudges of dirt on your skin.

You said nothing, letting Mitsuri work on you. Once finished, she stood up and held out her hand, “Are you able to stand?” she asked.

You looked down at her hand and reached for it, slowly encasing it in yours, with your index finger pressing against the pulse in her wrist. A strange flush of warmth spread through Mitsuri’s arm and to her chest, causing a shiver to move up her spine. She shook her head, and helped you get up.

The warmth continued to spread and fester within her, and she couldn’t figure out why – you were human, or at least looked like you were.

You gave her a saccharine smile, “I appreciate your help, angel, but I have to get going – I’ll see you around, no?”

Mitsuri’s eyes widened at the pet name you let slip – you couldn’t possibly know what she was – it was a coincidence, that’s all.

She who trusts in her own heart is a fool,

But she who walks wisely will be delivered.

Still, it caught her off-guard, and if she wasn’t flustered before, she definitely was now, slightly panicking despite knowing that humans wouldn’t be able to see her wings, or halo for that matter.

Mitsuri stuttered, “Of course, I– see you around.”

Days passed, and Mitsuri started to believe you’d fallen off the face of the earth – completely unable to sense your presence or soul. Yet, the warmth she felt from holding your hand did not fade – rather, it worsened, beckoning her to drag her dainty fingers along her stomach and downwards.

She shook herself out of it, but the heat lingered and pooled between her legs, so much so that it started to drip down her inner thighs – yet she wouldn’t give in to the temptation, she couldn’t – it was against everything that she was taught, everything that she believed.

Or were the beliefs forced upon her?

It wasn’t until after forty days and forty nights that she sensed you once more. It was early morning, so early that the sun had not graced its rays upon the world quite yet. You sat underneath a lamppost, its artificial light illuminating the bench beneath you, but oddly failing to reflect off of your own soft skin.

“You’re not human, are you?”

You looked up at her, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you shook your head. Standing up, you walked towards her, causing Mitsuri to take a hesitant step back.

“Don’t be shy, angel, I don’t bite – not unless you beg for it.”

“I– I’m not begging,” Mitsuri muttered, as though she were trying to convince herself more than anything.

Submit therefore to God. Resist the devil and she will flee from you.

You approached her once more, and she remained still. Taking her wrist in yours, you slowly graze your nails over the skin of her arm, tracing up and down as she spoke. Her cheeks were red, flushed hot with both the strange warmth that found its home within her soul and now the shame of actually seeking what she desired.

You both sat down on the bench, a shrub blooming with jasmine flowers alongside it – the rich scent flooding her senses as her eyes locked with yours.

Do not desire her beauty in your heart,

Nor let her capture you with her eyelids.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” you asked, fingers circling the pulse point on her wrist.

Mitsuri frowns, “What do you mean?” You take your other hand and place it on hers, tracing your thumb across her skin, sending butterflies into her stomach.

“I mean,” you started, “do you get tired of kindness? Of righteousness?” you questioned, “do you ever wish to know beyond those things?”

“Um…I–” she paused, swallowing thickly, “N-Not really?”

It was a lie, and you knew that.

“Oh, well that’s too bad,” you pouted before leaning in towards her, “because I could show you things you’ve never even felt before, angel.” You glanced up at her, and you could see her eyes pooling with the desire to accept.

“I– I really can’t, it would– it would be against my nature.” An excuse, but a truthful one. If she consented, she would be damning herself – condemning her soul to the farthest reaches of hell.

It was something unthinkable for a being like her.

“Hmm, but nature changes over time, does it not?” you questioned, “if I’m not mistaken, I can see the want in your eyes. You desire this change, yet you won’t grasp for it. Why?”

“You– you wouldn’t be able to understand,” she stuttered, retracting her hands from yours as she formed fists with them in her lap.

“Angel, I think I understand more than anyone else,” you smirked, "to me, you seem lost – you're falling, aren't you, angel?"

You got up from the bench, eyes flashing a brief red as you looked down at her – causing Mitsuri’s breath to catch in her throat.

For the lips of an adulteress drip honey

And smoother than oil is her speech;

But in the end she is bitter as wormwood,

Sharp as a two-edged sword.

Her feet go down to death,

Her steps take hold in the house of it.

“If you wish for more than the mundanity of your everlasting life, you know exactly how to find me,” you told her, and before Mitsuri could look up at you once more, you were gone.

—

Mitsuri knew that it was wrong, she knew that it would go against her vows, her duties, her entire purpose, and yet – she found herself walking past that same alleyway each day, only peering into it out of curiosity before collecting herself and continuing on her way.

Until the seventh day, when she decided to stop in front of the alley, the sun beaming down on her as she stood just outside of it, as though the lined buildings on either side created a threshold that she couldn’t bring herself to pass.

As Mitsuri peered into the shadows, she saw a figure stand up and walk towards her. She couldn’t look into the being’s soul – it was as though it didn’t have one at all. It approached her from the dark, and its silhouette depicted that of sharpened horns and a long tail which was pointed at the end.

“Have you made up your mind, angel?” you asked sweetly, extending your hand past the threshold for her to take, “I promise, you’ll love how it feels to let go.”

Mitsuri hesitated, but as she looked into your eyes, a fire ignited deep within her once more.

My child, if sinners entice you,

Do not consent.

It was all she needed to extend her own hand and place it in yours.

Shocks of electricity traveled up Mitsuri’s arm, much more intense than the warmth she felt before, it traveled deep into her gut, and her face flushed red as she was pulled into the shadows, fully enticed by you.

You pinned her against the wall, her back facing you. Her wings shuddered in excitement as you leaned in towards her ear, “I’m proud of you, angel,” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear, “I know how difficult it must’ve been to give in, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” You grazed a finger along her left wing, nail lightly scraping against the feathers. She whimpered, her blush hot across her face as heat pooled in her stomach.

“I– I know you’re a–ah…” Mitsuri started, swallowing thickly before a soft moan escaped from her.

“A demon? Yes, angel, I am,” you chuckled, grabbing at her hair to pull her head back, “but I’m not here to hurt you, love, no, I’m here to make you sin.”

You turned her around and kissed her fervently, your lips sweet against hers. It felt euphoric, Mitsuri had never been kissed by anyone before – it was always said to open the doors to lust.

Then when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death.

However, she melted into your kiss, malleable and pliable – eager to feel more of it, the fire inside her being nurtured and stoked as you continued to kiss her innocent lips. You licked at her, and bit down on her bottom lip before parting – a string of saliva connecting her lips to yours, binding her into damnation as she uttered her next words.

“Please, I need more.”

You smirked, and leaned in towards her neck, licking a long stripe with your tongue before kissing just below her earlobe, with Mitsuri letting out tiny mewls and gasps every so often. You traveled further down her neck towards her pulse point. You left marks deep in burgundy upon her as she moaned into your ear.

“I love the sounds you’re making, angel, make some more for me,” you purred, bringing your hand down towards her heat, pushing aside the white linen to rub your fingers along her entrance. “Oh, you’re so wet for me,” you cooed.

“Nngh, n-noo that- that’s dirty,” Mitsuri whined, and you smirked.

“Trust me, you’ll learn to love feeling this way.” Your breath was hot before putting her into yet another searing kiss. She whimpered, but kissed back, slowly accepting her growing addiction towards them.

You circled her clit with your finger, and she whined, face flushed as she tried grinding onto your hand.

“That’s it, angel, take what you need, such a good girl,” you encouraged her, rubbing her clit slightly faster as she ground into you, a blushing mess as she did so. Mitsuri’s moans got progressively louder, loving the sensations once unknown to her.

“Mmh–! I– I feel strange…like something’s building up in me!” she whined, “what– what’s happening–!?”

You kissed her once more, quieting her, “shhh, angel, that’s a good thing, just relax and let it build up, okay?” She moaned again, grinding harder into your hand as she obeyed your words.

“I– It’s gonna–! I’m gonna–!” Mitsuri’s eyes rolled back, letting out a strangled moan as she came all over your hand, juices gushing into your palm as she rode through her orgasm, her hips undulating until she couldn’t take it anymore – quickly becoming overstimulated from the feeling of pleasure coursing through her veins.

“Too– too much! Can’t– no more!” she cried, tears falling down her cheeks. You licked at each stray teardrop, the saltiness of it coating your tongue as you stopped your movements with your hand.

“Such a good girl for me, angel,” you praised, and she hid her face behind her hands in pure embarrassment. You took her by the wrists and held them down.

“Don’t hide your pretty face from me, I want to see every last bit of your pleasure.”

Mitsuri whined and asked “can you– can you do that again, please?” Her tone was so sweet, begging for more like a pathetic slut who has abandoned all of her morals.

However, you refused, “if you wish for more of that, you’ll have to please me, first.” Mitsuri looked at you, confused, before you shoved her down to her knees, her face in line with your hips – the pretty lingerie you were wearing disappearing in an instant before you took her by the hair and pulled her towards your weeping cunt. “Make me feel good, angel, and I might consider actually fucking you this time.”

Mitsuri’s eyes dropped from your face down to your pussy, admiring how sweet and juicy it looked.

When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, she took from its fruit and ate.

So, she went entirely off of her own instinct as she brought her mouth to your heat, before licking at the wetness of it with her tongue. The sweetness of it coating the inside of her mouth like syrup; Mitsuri had never even thought of committing such lewd acts before, but now that she’d gotten a taste, she couldn’t help herself.

She started off shy, with kitten licks and tentative kisses on your clit. She may not have experience in giving pleasure, but she was there in the beginning when humans, angels, and devils alike were all created in the same image, and so she knew the insides and outs of their bodies unlike any other.

Her tongue delved deeper into your cunt, licking up any juices that seeped out of it, earning soft groans and grunts from you as you pulled at her hair. She adored your taste – it was addictive, a taste that she would gladly sin for if it meant she could feast upon it for the eternity of her damnation.

Her lips pursed around your clit before sucking gently, your eyes rolling back as she looked up at you. She whimpered, wishing you’d make eye contact with her and tell her she was doing such a good job – instead only receiving a few strokes through her hair as you thrived off of the pleasure that her mouth was giving you. Her own cunt was weeping, the heat from her abdomen becoming unbearable as she continued licking you up with her tongue – so much so that she reached down between her legs with her fingers, but before she could provide herself even the slightest bit of relief, you yanked her by the hair.

“You think you can touch yourself without my permission? Think you’re allowed to make yourself feel good? No, angel. Only I am allowed to do that. Any and all pleasure you receive, any and all sin that you commit, will be caused by me – for my sake.” You leaned down closer to her, breath hot against her face, “do you understand me?”

Mitsuri nodded, only to wince as you gripped her hair tighter.

“Say it.”

“Yes, I– I understand,” Mitsuri spoke softly as she removed her hand from between her thighs.

“Good girl.”

You pulled Mitsuri up once more and, in an incredible display of flexibility, she raised her right leg so that it pointed up toward the sky, with you supporting her by holding her up by your hand.

“Hah– you’re no angel, are you? Angels don’t act this way, y’know– you’re just a pathetic little slut, a pleasure-seeking whore that can never get enough,” you panted, before mounting your foot against the wall so your cunt was flush against hers, grinding against her wet heat. You grabbed her by the jaw and forced her to look at you.

“What are you, hm? Tell me.”

“I– I–” she whined, “I’m– ‘m your slut…oh shit, ‘m your slut!”

“That’s right, you’re nothing but a stupid cumslut, aren’t you? Raised to be holy and perfect, but look at you, drunk on lust all because some demon tempted you. How pathetic.”

Mitsuri whined as you ground into her, feeling absolutely no shame as she condemned herself further with each movement of your hips. The familiar tension in her gut started to build up once more as she took everything you gave her.

“Nngh– it- it’s happening a-ah– again!” she moaned, and you ground against her faster.

“That’s it, slut, cum all over my cunt. Sin for me.”

Mitsuri’s thighs trembled as her orgasm flooded through her in waves, her mind addled with euphoria and lust as her pussy gushed all over you, her moans so raw and unbridled as she allowed you to claim her as yours, knowing she will never find pleasure like this through anything or anyone except you.

You are my God, and I give thanks to You;

You are my God, I extol You.

“My– my God,” she panted, “you– you are my God.” She knew it was blasphemous, yet she didn’t care, for she found a new being to worship, to love and to praise as she damned herself for the rest of eternity, certain that she would choose this over holiness in every lifetime if given the honor to do so.

For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

Amen.

Taglist: @oreo-creampie, @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @pastelbluecloudy3, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @bisexuawolfsalt, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701

(If your name was crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you - apologies for the inconvenience)

I hope you all enjoyed!!! 💕

275 notes · View notes

dyaz-stories · 4 months

Text

put your arms around me and i'm home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: In the dead of winter, you have to do a run to go get fuel for your generator. Things go wrong, but fortunately, Hyun-Su is here to save you.

word count: 3.7k

warnings & tags: canon-typical violence, gore, monsters, hyun-su and reader get injured, reader briefly thinks hyun-su is dead, monster!hyun-su makes a brief appearance, hyun-su needs a hug and he gets one!, angst, hurt/comfort, season 2 canon compliant.

previous · next

A/N: this can be read on its own, but there is another one-shot, if you're interested! for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman.

You’re not one to get caught off guard, not usually. You’ve always been cautious, measured, far-sighted. It had been an advantage back in high school, and you’re pretty sure it’s what kept you alive thus far.

Yet, in this new world that you never asked to be a part of, unforeseen complications were the norm. You could plan, and plan, and plan ahead, but here you were, freezing in your living room, because the biting cold of the lasting winter meant that you’d run out of fuel for your small generator, and everything else you used to generate electricity wasn’t functioning the way it should.

If you didn’t want to freeze to death, you had to act, and act quick.

You’d already held out a few more days than was reasonable, hoping that the weather would clear and your solar panels would be useful again, or — but you hadn’t dared to voice that thought — that Hyun-Su would come by, and you could ask for his help. He’d offered before, after all, even if he had always kept you at arm’s length whenever you’d returned the favor.

But things were dire now, and you couldn’t wait any longer, so you’re kneeling in your living-room, preparing yourself for a hazardous trip in the outside, shivering as you do. Things are dangerous enough on a good day, but the snow that’s been continuously falling only makes you dread it more. It swallows sounds, means you’ll leave tracks behind you, and you’ll consume twice as much energy just to move around.

The last thing you pack is a map, which you make sure to keep available, though you hope you won’t need it in between breaks.

You’re heading for a four-stories parking lot, where you hope you’ll find fuel in one of the cars, but that’s not the dangerous part. What’s risky is that monsters love these kinds of places, with all their nooks and crannies, all the dark places to hide, and fear already has your heart beating twice as fast as usual before you’ve even opened your door.

Still, you take a steadying breath, haul the backpack over on your shoulders, and exit the house without making a sound.

Everything is quiet outside. Snow is falling gently, and the sight would be heart-warming, if it wasn’t for all the overturned cars, the gaping hole torn into the building opposite from yours by one of those missiles a few months ago, and the worrying fresh footprints going towards the river. The snow also covers the decomposing bodies, and you can only hope that you don’t accidentally step on one as you start walking.

At least it fills your tracks behind you. By the time you’ve reached the other side of the street, which was one once an impossible task due to how bad traffic you used to be, nothing leads back to your door, and you leave with, at least, the reassurance that home will still be here waiting for you when you come back.

If you come back.

There’s comfort in knowing that you’d planned well, this time, to get to the parking lot. You get to your destination with only expected complications. You spot the monsters before they spot you. You have to reroute twice, but that had been accounted for, and you don’t even have to pull out your map. You reach the building right before noon, and after surveying it for a few minutes, you let yourself in before you can chicken out.

In the dark, you make your way to the first floor, where you will be able to have the greyish light of the day, instead of having to use precious batteries for your flashlight.

It’s not long before you’ve picked out the car, a familial minivan with an untouched baby seat in the back. You try not to think about the people it belonged to as you kneel by the side and prepare to siphon the tank. You make quick work of preparing it, with the tanks and hoses you’d brought for that purpose.

Maybe it’s your confidence that’s to blame for what happens next, or maybe it’s another one of these unforeseeable accidents. Either way, you catch movement from the corner of your eye and you jerk your head back as a reflex, but you’re not fast enough and unnaturally long claws dig into your cheek.

You manage not to scream despite the pain, scramble back and away from the van. There, standing on the roof, is a creature. Though it stands on two legs, there is nothing human about it anymore. The side of its face are sagging and drooping like it’s centuries old, covering where you assume its shoulders would be. It brings its claws to its lips, and your realize with horror that your blood is dripping from them.

Bleeding, in this world, might as well be a death sentence. You don’t bother wasting energy in stopping the tears from spilling from your eyes.

“Younnnnng,” the monster screeches. “Give— meeeeee…”

It at least snaps you out of the stupor, and you grab your bat, unwilling to go down without a fight.

But it’s not much of a fight, not when the scent and the noise are waking up all the other creatures hibernating around here.

You swing wildly as the thing, and manage to send it tumbling back. It’s only a short respite though, considering pain is only ever short lived for them, while blood is dripping down your chin and onto the concrete.

You throw your backpack on your shoulders with trembling hands and grab the first cannister that you’ve filled, abandoning the rest behind to start sprinting towards the exit.

You already know you won’t make it. You know you’ll have to run through the pitch dark ground floor, which is no doubt filled with more of those nightmares, and that the chances you’ll make it out on the other side are slim to none.

But you owe it to yourself fight until the very end.

As it stands, you don’t even make it to the downward slope that leads there. There’s the sound of something charging towards you, and then the— the head, it has to be, of a bull-like thing catches you in the ribs, and sends you flying into a car. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, your vision goes blurry, your head starts reeling. You’re aware of the thing crashing into a concrete pillar. It at least stays there, struggling to pull itself out, but that’s barely any relief, because soon enough the first creature is calling out to you again, stretching out a skeletal arm towards you.

“Younnnnnng… Give meeeee…”

It kicks you in the ribs, and you roll onto your back, only to be met with the horrifying sight of its arm in the air, claws out and ready, preparing to cut your throat open.

You refuse to close your eyes.

And then, just as you think everything lost, someone steps in between you and the monster, blocking its arm with your very own baseball bat. You stare blankly at the large back, the unkept black hair, as the man forces it to step back and kicks it in the chest.

Then Hyun-Su turns around, and holds his hand out towards you.

He looks nothing like what you’re used to. He’s usually so lost, so hesitant, when he comes to you. Now he’s focused, purposeful, and in many ways, he reminds you of the boy you once knew, the captain of the football team who would without fail lead his team to victory.

“Let’s go,” he urges you, and when you weakly take his hand, he pulls you to your feet effortlessly.

You wheeze as the two of you run to hide behind a car. You press your free hand against your ribs, hoping to lessen the pain — it doesn’t work, of course.

“It’s going to find me,” you mumble to Hyun-Su as he keeps an eye on the thing. “It can— It can smell my blood.”

Hyun-Su’s head snaps towards you, and his expression darkens at the sight of the wound on your cheek. He lifts his hand halfway, as if to touch it, then lets it fall down again.

“You should—” Your voice breaks. “You should go. If it can find me… It’s not the only one.”

A strange expression that you can’t quite decipher passes on his face, before he shakes his head firmly.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

The relief you feel when he says those words is immediately overshadowed by embarrassment. You shouldn’t be happy. He needs to go, or he will die here with you, and what would the point be in that?

“What— What are you even doing here? How—”

You don’t know if he doesn’t answer on purpose, or if he hears a sound that takes his attention away from you.

“Can you run?” he asks you, glancing over the car.

Your body’s going to hurt like hell when the adrenaline wears out, but for now you give him a decided nod.

“Do you trust me?”

You should probably take your time to answer him, actually think about the question.

“Yes,” you answer instead, like it’s a reflex.

He exhales quietly, squeezes your hand in his.

“Then run.”

Then he’s pulling with him, running at full speed towards the open wall of the parking lot. Fear spikes through you. Even though you’re only on the first floor, it’s still too high to land comfortably. That fear is completely erased by the sight that greets you, briefly, of monsters stumbling and climbing all over each other to make their way up from the ground floor. There is a whole swarm of them teeming here already, and you can’t think of any other way to make it out alive — frankly, you have a hard time believing that this will work. But you cling to your faith in Hyun-Su like your life depends on it, because it does, and when he yells for you to jump, you do it without question.

While you’re flailing in the air, you feel him pulling you towards him. Strong arms wrap around you, and keep you caged and safe. You hit the ground brutally, rolling on the floor until you land on top of him.

“Fuck,” you mumble, painfully pushing you onto your elbows. “Hyun-Su, are— are you okay?”

The obvious answer to the question is ‘no’, and yet Hyun-Su doesn’t look worse for wear as he sits up, his eyes instead going over your body to make sure you weren’t too badly injured.

If you shiver when his hands run up and down your arms, it isn’t because of the cold.

“Let’s move,” he says, letting go of you all too quickly.

But, by the time you’re both on your feet, monsters attracted by the smell of your blood have started falling from the parking lot. The two of you sprint, but you’re no match for them and you know it. You regain the tiniest hope when you make it past a corner, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the snow will swallow your smell if you hide well enough — and then something wraps around your ankle.

In a second, you’re torn out of Hyun-Su’s grasp, and when you manage to roll onto your back to see who your assailant is, all you can do is let out an inhumane scream.

This particular monster has eight legs, like a spider, and its somewhat human torso and head is completed by two long mandibles instead of a jaw. You manage to grab a knife from your pocket, but by the time you can cut its— web, you suppose, it’s charging towards you at full speed, and it’s close, too close for you to even get on your feet before—

When it attacks you, the first thing you see is what you first identify as a black wing, before you realize that it’s made out of a complex mix of flesh, bone and other materials that you can’t quite recognize, instead of feathers.

The wing pushes the creature back, and then Hyun-Su’s back is in front of you once more.

It’s his, you realize, brain awfully slow all of sudden. The wing. It’s attached to his shoulder, and all you can do is stare in confusion and horror. It flutters as he turns around to look at you.

You’re not fully in control when you scramble back, whole body shaking — because of the second near-death experience in ten minutes or because you’re terrified, you don’t know. What you do know is how hurt he looks, and how he turns his head the other way to face the monsters that are still coming after the two of you.

“You should run,” he says, low enough that you could miss it. He sounds hollow again. “Don’t turn around.”

You shake your head quietly, try to form some words. They all fail you. You don’t— you have no clue what’s happening. All that you know is that Hyun-Su is a monster and that he’s just used that to save your life.

The wave of monsters reach him just a few seconds later, before you’ve managed to decide anything. He pushes them back with practiced ease, one by one. You hate that you’re just sitting here, unable to move, as he fights for your life, yet your body just refuses to answer to you, even if you’re begging it to react.

Soon, the spider is the last one standing — or rather, the last one who hasn’t yet decided that you’d make a fairly meager lunch, considering how hard it is to get to you. It keeps attacking, and Hyun-Su keeps pushing it back, again, and again, until the creature manages to ensnare him in its web. Hyun-Su writhes, manages to pull his wing free, but it’s clear that he’s now at a disadvantage, and the mandibles click threateningly as the monster gets closer and closer to him.

Finally, your body agrees to react.

You run.

You don’t go very far though. You find the cannister you’d dropped and then you’re rushing back to throw the gasoline at the creature, half emptying it. The monster wasn’t paying attention to you, too busy trying to bite Hyun-Su’s head off, but its head snaps towards you when the liquid reaches it. It lets out a threatening hiss, which you ignore.

Instead, you find the lighter in your pocket.

Aim.

And throw.

The screams start right away, but it drops Hyun-Su, at least, as it tries to escape the fire.

For a second, you think you’ve made it — you’ve both made it, that is. Hyun-Su pulls himself to his feet. The wing flutters again, slowly starts to retreat back into his body to go back to a human arm.

He looks at you, expression unreadable.

And then one of the spider’s limb pierces through his chest. It’s not even calculated this time — just a movement it’s making as it tries to free itself from the flames that are consuming it.

You hear yourself scream. You don’t remember asking your body to move, this time, but you know that a second later you’re reaching Hyun-Su as he falls to his knees, and your arms are around him while you cradle him, pulling his head into your lap. Tears fall down your cheeks and onto his, as one of your hands tries, and fails, to apply pressure to the gaping wound, even if you know there is no point.

“No,” you beg. “No, no, no, no… Please, please, someone, please…”

You don’t know how many times you say it, how long you stay there. Snow starts to cover both his body and yours, and you realize you have a decision to make, if you don’t want to freeze to death. You just can’t bring yourself to do it.

Until Hyun-Su’s lifeless body arches in your arms with a gasp.

When his eyes open, they’re a clear, cold, uncanny blue.

You don’t dare to do anything then — not to let go of him, not to move away, not to break eye contact. It makes no sense, but you’re afraid that the slightest movement would have him gone again.

Slowly, his lips curve into a smirk, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. You’ve seen him smile, bright and sincere, and more recently, soft and subdued. But this amused, flirtatious smirk, that is completely new.

“You’re still here,” he comments, casually getting up, like nothing happen, like he can’t feel pain, like there isn’t a hole in his chest.

Even his voice is different. There’s a drawl to it, light and lazy, like he has all the time in the world.

“Hyun-Su?” you say, unsure of what’s happening. He was dead a minute ago. Then again, now that he’s breathing again, your brain is able to form the thought that he is a monster. An abnormal one, sure, and you don’t know enough to draw any conclusion, but it could be an explanation.

The smirk widens.

“Close enough,” he answers. “Are you scared?”

You’re not sure. You think you’re too emotionally exhausted to be scared.

“Should I be?” you ask. Maybe you shouldn’t trust this version of him to tell you the truth, and yet— All your senses are telling you that this is still Hyun-Su. And you don’t think he’d do anything to hurt you. Ever.

“It would break him if you got hurt,” not-Hyun-Su says, tilting his head. He lifts his index finger to tilt your head up. “I don’t want him broken.”

“Is he—” You interrupt yourself, unsure of what even is happening right now. But before you can start asking for answers, there is something you need to know. “Is Hyun-Su okay right now?”

He scoffs.

“He’s taking a break,” he replies. “He’s worked hard.” A beat while he seems to think about it. “Also, he thinks you hate him now.”

“I could never hate him,” you say, too easily, because it’s just the truth.

“Well, he is a monster,” not-Hyun-Su says with a shrug. He doesn’t seem to mean it as an insult, just stating a fact. You suppose he’s not wrong, and yet…

“The people I loved all turned into monsters,” you whisper quietly. Your mother, before you even made it home. Your best friend, who begged for death so she wouldn’t hurt others. Your father, who disappeared to protect you. You miss them all so much it sometimes feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, and you’d give anything to have them back. So, if there is any way that you can still have Hyun-Su… “As long— as long as he’s not trying to kill me, does it really matter?”

The man watches you with interest, tilting his head to the side. It’s interesting. You haven’t been hurt by this world the way others have. Monsters caused death and destruction, but you watched half-monsters doing their very best to avoid hurting others, not unlike what Hyun-Su is doing right now.

The monster in him wonders what it would take, to destroy that ill-placed trust in others around you. The rest of him… is far too intrigued to give in. He grabs your chin between his thumb and his index finger, pulls your face closer to his.

“Doesn’t it?” he echoes your words. “What if I do hurt you?”

You swallow, call back the images of Hyun-Su easily taking out these monsters earlier. But you can’t forget that he’d been doing it to protect you.

“Y–You won’t,” you reply, even if your stutter betrays your lack of confidence.

It’s a leap of faith, but it seems to amuse him.

“For now,” he says, before his eyes roll into his head and Hyun-Su collapses in your arms.

You stumble back, barely manage to keep him up, before he seems to regain some control over his limbs and starts coughing. Even then, you don’t let go of him. You wrap both of your arms around him, head resting against his shoulder, and keep him there, against you.

Hyun-Su remains still for a while, breathing pained and ragged. The snow is still falling, but his body is warm.

“Are you okay?” he whispers with a hoarse voice.

“I am,” you answer. “Thanks to you.”

He lets out a pained sigh.

“Did he— Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, barely moving away so you can look at him. He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes — black again, you note — fixedly in the other direction.

Like he can’t bear to know which emotion is on your face right now.

“I’m so happy you’re alive,” you say quietly. “I thought— I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Silence.

“Don’t leave me,” you beg, voice so low and broken you don’t think he’d hear if he wasn’t inches from you.

Hyun-Su’s body starts shaking against yours. Finally, finally, he wraps an arm around your waist, burying his head in your neck, and wet tears roll down your collarbone. In the freezing cold weather, they feel burning hot.

“Don’t hate me,” he begs in response, crying in your arms, fingers digging to the fabric of your clothes in a desperate attempt to keep you there, against him — even if there is no need for that right now.

You wish you could tell him that he just saved your life, that he’s been a guiding light in your cold, dark life this past few months, that you love him more than words can say. But that would take too long, and the situation calls for something shorter, more direct, and just as meaningful.

“You’re the only good thing about this world,” you say instead, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

Under the snow, for long minutes, Hyun-Su holds you like he never wants to let go.

When the two of you eventually detach from each other, he keeps your hand in his the whole walk home.

i hope you liked this installment! i'm probably going to write something much softer next, still for this couple (but it's hyun-su so it's still going to be angsty). if you're enjoying this, please let me know your thoughts, reblog or send in an ask. hearing from readers is so motivating and makes me want to keep writing!

next part

#hyunsu x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #hyun su x reader #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader #my writing

930 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Secrets: batfamily x ScarlettWitch!reader

The graphic is not mine, found it on pinterest.

Story requested by @p4inis - I know it's been ages, sorry! : Jason x scarlet witch fem reader? She’s best friend w dick and she secretly works with Batman then the boys found out when she entered the bat cave and tried to pick a fight with Batman ?

***

„BRUCE!” the very angry voice echoed through the stone walls of the batcave and very angry girl came to the view “What the hell?!”

“Y/N?” Jason stood up from his chair, shock on his face “What are you doing here?”

“And more importantly, how did you get here?” Dick was equally as surprised as his brother.

“Can someone explain to me, who is this girl?” Damian frowned.

Let me stop the story right here and give you a bit of context.

Y/N Y/L/N, born and raised in Gotham were best friend with Dick Grayson from the day he arrived at the city. Poor boy, who just lost his parents were just wondering around the street, all by himself, moody and clearly looking for trouble. Y/N was getting back from school when she encountered him, brooding in one of the alleys, absentmindedly kicking a trash can while muttering something to himself. In any other circumstances, she would just walk past him, but something inside her told her to stop and she listened to that little voice, taking her time in observing the boy with her eyes slightly narrowed and head tilted.

“Too much on your mind?” she finally asked after a while of hesitation

“Yes.” He muttered not even looking up at her

“Need a pair of ears to listen to your sad story?”

“Why do you care?” Dick’s eyes landed on her face “you don’t know me.”

“I don’t. But I can tell you are in need of a friend. I’m Y/N.” she took a few steps forward and extended her hand

“Dick.” The boy shook it hesitantly

“Really?” she smiled lightly at the name he gave her

“Yes.” His tone became harsher.

“Ok, all right, no hard feelings there, Dick.” Y/N raised her hands in defense “wait, you’re the Wayne’s kid.”

“How do you know?”

“I….. I don’t know….. I just sort of sensed that.”

“Sensed? Is there anyone normal in this city?” Dick rolled his eyes

“Hey! Careful there, boy! I might take offence.”

“Sorry. I’m not really used to people dressed like clowns and bats running around the streets and citizens to have superpowers.”

“ What can I say? Welcome to Gotham, Dick.”

And that was how their friendship started and lasted for years. However, there was one thing Y/N never told Dick. She did have powers. Maybe not at the time when they met, but when she was somewhere around 18 they started to show. Out of nowhere, she could hear people’s thoughts, the objects around her started to move and when she was nervous or scared the air around her was literally turning red. Oh, and sometimes, people around her saw the things she wanted them to – some sort of illusions. That was when her mother told her that she was holding the power of a Scarlett Witch and poor girl did not like it at all. In the city of freaks and criminals she always prided herself on being normal, ordinary, usual. She never wanted any skills. To be honest, she got scared and due to her conflicted emotions her powers started causing troubles. The only option was to leave Gotham for a while and learn how to get it under control. Her mother, a witch herself, contacted some old friends and Y/N was sent to train with the old order of sorceresses.

She got back after a whole year, finding Gotham in worse condition than ever. From what she learned in a quick time, there was a new vigilante, calling himself the Red Hood running around and causing havoc. One time, when she focused, she got into his mind, feeling all the rage and pain and fear and regret. She saw his story of how he was killed by Joker and brought back to life. All the conflict he had with Batman, because apparently they were a family once, and at some point in life he was his sidekick, Robin. She broke this mind connection before finding out the real identities of anyone. That was private and she never wanted to know. Second thing was Dick. Their contact during the last year was a bit limited, since while her training she was not exactly allowed to use phone and internet so they rarely talked and when she returned, the girl found out that Dick left Gotham and resided in Bludhaven. Third thing was Batman’s newest sidekick, apparently calling himself Red Robin, who was on her tail, treating her like some sort of threat. After a month of playing cat and mouse with him, she got inside his head and practically commanded him to meet her so they could talk without acting like kids.

“What do you want with me?” they were standing in front of each other on the rooftop surrounded by Gotham’s darkness.

“The question is, why is someone like you just sitting around doing nothing?” he retorted

“I’m sorry. Someone like me?” she scoffed “who do you think I am?”

“Please. You’re not so hard to crack.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him waiting for some more explanation “you are Scarlett Witch. You have so many crazy level skills, so why are you passive if you could do so much good for this city?”

“You remind me of someone from my past, you know. Someone who practically called me a freak the first day we met.”

“I never said you were a freak.”

“No. No you did not. And I am not. At least, not anymore that I learned how to control my abilities I never asked for. ….“ she hesitated “Now. I am not going to go inside your head, but I strongly suggest you to tell me the truth why you were on my tail, lately.”

Red Robin sighed deeply considering what words to choose to reveal to her the real reason behind his action. Clearly this girl couldn’t be deceived with half-truth.

“It’s Batman.”

“Batman? What does your boss have to do with it?”

“He’s not my boss. But he wants to be yours.”

“I’m not planning on becoming a sidekick of his.” She scoffed “If anything I work alone.”

“ Just listen to me, all right? Let me convince you.”

“You entertain me, Red Robin. You know, I was fairly familiar with your predecessors. The original Robin tried to save my ass from the assaulters once, the second bumped into me while chasing the robbers. They both seemed …. too enthusiastic and energetic. It can cause trouble at times. You seem more …. rational. Wiser. And I appreciate that, so I’ll listen to you. Tell me then, what can Batman possibly offer me to join him in his work?”

He convinced her, talking about the people and doing good work and being trained by the Batman himself. He offered her wide range of freedom, so she wouldn’t have to be a sidekick. He talked and talked about how the joint efforts can bring good effect. He might have also slipped something about admiring her and the things she can do and how he himself would like the opportunity to work with her. And she agreed, keeping her alliance with Red Robin and Batman a secret.

After making such important choice, she realized it would be nice to get back in touch with Dick so she simply called him and they rebuilt their friendship. They even went far enough to reveal their other identities to each other.

“Wait, you were the original Robin?!” her eyes went wide upon hearing the news “you were the one who tried to save me during that assault?! Damn it, Dick.”

“You never really needed my help.” He shrugged “now I know why. Scarlett Witch, huh? Makes sense. What exactly can you do apart from getting inside people’s heads?”

However, she never told him she was secretly working with his foster father.

Not when during one of the mission she found out that Red Hood real identity was Jason Todd and he was in fact Bruce’s son and Dick’s brother.

Not when she fell in love with such brother.

Not when she started working with the latest Robin aka Damian.

Not when one time Dick asked her to join him on the mission.

Not when he suggested she could be a part of bat team, even if the team already consisted of too many people who tended to fight with one another (mostly Dick and Jason).

She kept in the dark and it was getting harder to control who knew what about her. Dick and Jason were aware of her real name and her alias, but not that she was occasional Batman’s partner. Damian knew only the Scarlett Witch and working with Batman part and Tim knew everything, of course while Cass, Steph and Babs knew her only as Y/N, their civilian friend. It was crazy.

Until the day when Bruce broke his promise of giving her mission freedom and she got really angry. Despite their agreement, Batman interfered in Scarlett Witch’s contacts on the drug trafficking causing the informants to fled from the city and her operation went south.

“Get out of my way!” she yelled when both Dick and Jason blocked her way demanding some explanation.

“Y/N. why don’t you just calm down a little, all right?” Dick started, trying his best not to worsen the situation. After all she was the freaking Scarlett Witch. She could have them on the ground wincing in pain within seconds. It was better not to mess with her

“Yeah, I will calm down right after the freaking Batman keep his promises!” she yelled

“Wait, what? What promises? I don’t get it…..” Damian frowned again “Father, who is this girl?”

“Leave us.” Bruce spoke calmly

“What is going on here?” Tim emerged from the door and as his eyes landed on Y/N he understood everything “Oh, shit…..”

“Can someone tell me…..?”

“Shut up Damian!” Jason, Dick and Y/N yelled in unison

“I said: leave us.” Bruce repeated in his most stern tone, yet no one paid attention to him anymore

“I don’t understand half of what’s happening but I’m not leaving” Jason laughed “If my girl goes full Scarlett Witch on Bruce I’d love to see it.” He moved towards Y/N and kissed her cheek making her blush a bit. “Don’t hold back, babe. I like that wild side of yours.” He smirked

“Stop it, Jace!” she tried to rid herself of him

“Wait. SHES THE SCARLETT WITCH!?” Damian exclaimed “but she looks so….. ordinary.”

“WATCH YOUR TONGUE, DEMON!”

“Before someone get hurt….” Dick started blocking Jason and Damian from killing each other

“LET ME GO DICKHEAD! HE JUST OFFENDED MY GIRLFRIEND!”

“ I JUST STATED THE OBVIOUS! SHE LOOKS NORMAL!”

“THAT IS A STEP UP FROM HOW YOU LOOK!”

“Do you work with Bruce Y/n? I mean, Batman? Why didn’t you tell me?” Dick’s finally caught up on the situation and glanced at his best friend with hurt expression.

“You have always been a bad detective, Dick. Of course she works with Batman. I was the one who offered her this position.” Tim smirked

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“It was my idea…..”

“YOU GOT HER INVOLVED IN THIS SHIT!?”

Now, everyone was fighting everyone and it was hard to tell when all of this started. Y/N and Bruce were just standing in the middle of the havoc, eyes switching between all of the boys with despair and embarrassment (Bruce) and disbelief and amusement (Y/N).

“You know, Bruce, I came here to confront you about interfering with my operation, but I don’t think I am angry anymore.”

“I can see. However, I wanted to tell you, that I got you the information you needed to finish it.”

“Really, you did? How?” she turned slightly from the scene in front of her and looked straight at Bruce

“A bit of intimidation and mention of powerful woman coming after anyone who refused to cooperate.”

“A powerful woman, huh?”

“Catwoman, of course.”

“Of course” she nodded “Thank you, Bruce. Business with you is …. tolerable, I guess.”

“But we’re not partners.” He muttered

“Obviously” she smirked “never were, never will be.” They were both liars.

“Do you think we should stop the boys from killing each other?” Bruce wondered

“Do you think we can?”

“Well, you are the Witch here. As much as I hate magic, can’t you do something?”

“Did you see them?” Y/N pointed towards the four unhinged figures yelling at each other “that’s beyond my level of expertise.”

“So…. we just leave?”

“Yes. Yes, we just…. leave. They will sort it out by themselves, right?”

“And it’s not because we are terrified of what they can do…..” Bruce muttered retreating backwards

“Absolutely not….. We just should discuss the case.”

“Yes. We should discuss the case.”

“Cause it’s really important.”

“Vital.”

“And it definitely can’t wait.”

“Shall we then?” Bruce pointed toward the exit and without any further ado they both disappeared from the cave leaving boys to deal with their banter themselves.

994 notes · View notes

regretisstoredintheme · 1 year

Text

Indulgent thoughts? Indulgent thoughts.

I was told that if I ever had indulgent thoughts (about Leo specifically???? What 😭😭😭) I had to share them, so… *sighhhhh*

YOU TWO. (@soradragon and @milks-thoughts) ASKED FOR IT.

Disclaimer that most of this was improv.

For context: I had this really bad interaction with Celina’s Yan!Leo ai, (I had tried to correct it but I ended up having to just delete the convo.) Anyways, after I had recovered from it, it got me thinking abt a post the aforementioned mutual, @pianocat939 made. I realize how much of a bad idea it is to @ her, but I’m already exposing myself, so WHY NOT 😀

HI CELINA 👋👋 IM ON TV!! IM BEING A BRAVE BOY 😀😀😀

Anyway

—

The idea is that you— or I guess me?? Ehh I’ll put it in a ‘Y/n’ format so it makes more sense. (Tw for Yandere behavior)

Y/n had been held captive by a version of Yandere Leo that was a lot more— physical, ig?? and who felt completely content with making them feel like the scum of the earth. He had violent mood swings, and picked— no, more like dug at any insecurity of theirs he could find. (The Ai made it clear he was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing 😒 a wolf on the hunt. and by “made it clear” I mean it literally could not stop mentioning it lmAOHDJAHAHA—)

This is where my au comes in.

So what does Y/n do? They start being reckless. Looking for any way to escape. There weren’t many times the brothers left on missions, so when they finally did, they had a plan to investigate around. They walked up to Donnie’s lab, and started poking around at things. They figured the purple-clad turtle would have something they could use. Something dangerous, perhaps?

Unfortunately, (or fortunately..?) they found one of his prototypes.

This prototype was meant to bend reality, it was an experimental design since it was his first attempt at mixing tech with mystic. but since they poked around at it’s draft, it couldn’t help but act unexpectedly.

And sent them into another dimension entirely.

The canon dimension.

With no Yanderes, no captivity, and none of that fear they were so used to.

They were .. free..?

They looked around the streets cautiously, looking for any signs that it was a hallucination or illusion. Were they really back in the streets of NYC? After having been in that godforsaken lair for years? How many years they had no idea, their guess was 2, but they couldn’t be sure.

They sat in waiting, cautious. They couldn’t go to the police, but they knew they had to stay out of sight. The prototype of Donnie’s creation had come with them, flashing every few seconds. They didn’t know how to turn it off, only how to hide. And they did it pretty well, holding a home base for a few days.

Everything tipped them off, but they were beginning to calm down, that was before they realized Donnie’s invention was probably still on. After finally finding the switch, they flipped it, the light finally powering down. They sighed, eyebrows furrowing in relief— but it wasn’t over yet.

Hearing a sound, they flipped around in surprise, running to hide before lifting their arms up, a feeble attempt to guard from whatever was walking out of the alleyway.

From the shadows, the only slightly familiar face of Foot Lieutenant, his mouth curved into a dark smile. Y/n had only seen him once, when they had attacked the turtles, but they seemed— different somehow.. “I do believe that was a tech signal from a certain purple, mutated turtle..” he turned to Brute with a sinister chuckle, gazing down at a jagged piece of equipment. “We’ve got them now..”

Y/n could hardly breathe, but they kept a hand over their mouth, determined to be as quiet as possible. From their many failed escape attempts, they knew Donnie had a tracer on his tech. Anyone who used it without authorization would have his ‘tag’ on them for quite a while. It was easily traceable. So if these people could trace that signal..

“Wait, I’m picking up something else!” Lieutenant looked back at the equipment, “it’s.. some sort of residue..” he hummed, then turned in Y/n’s direction.

They felt their heart stop, eyes wide as they went to check around the corner. Was there a way out of this? Were they gonna leave one captor only to walk into the hands of another?

Just as they began to spiral, a bright light illuminated from below them, encasing their cheeks gently in its blue hue. They didn’t have any time to react, the ground opening from below them as they fell into the abyss of neon.

They felt the world spin around them as arms circled their back and legs, bridal style, as if their ‘savior’ had twirled flamboyantly once he caught them.

Their eyes opened gently, before a gasp left their throat. The blood drained from their face, looking upon none other than Leo.

Normally they knew at least a few things to expect from him when they tried to escape, but they had never made it away for more than an hour before…

They had no idea what he was gonna do.

To their surprise, he was chuckling, not like he usually did— not with that — edge of maliciousness that reminded you why you couldn’t trust him. It was genuine, and weirder yet, he smiled at them.

“Hey, need a hand?” He cheesed, quirking a brow.

Y/n felt their bones nearly crack just at the sound of his voice, and found themself kicking at his plastron scrambling to put distance between them. Whatever manipulation tactic he was trying this time, it wouldn’t work on them.

They gave him a terrified look, their eyes narrowing slightly as they braced for whatever he had planned. “Get away from me!” They yelled, baring their teeth. They had no way to fight back, and yet couldn’t stop the angry tears that piled in their eyes.

“Woah— woah..” Leo seemed to shrink, making himself smaller as he showed his empty hands, keeping them where you could see them. “I know I look a little different but I assure you I have no intention to harm you..!” He gave a small laugh, as if he’d never seen this visceral of a reaction before.

“That’s what you said last time!!” Y/n practically shrieked, hands up in defense to cover their face, that cold blooded liar would have to kill them before they allowed him to take them back to the lair.

“Last time..?” Leo’s hands sunk a little, brows furrowing in curiosity. He’d never met this person before…

Right..?

—

THATS IT THERE YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED 😔😔😔😔😔😔

Bonus:

the art I made on a whim that inspired this

anyways.. Tell me if you want more of this silly lil au or something 😒😒

#ROTTMNT #ROTTMNT x reader #Leo x reader #Leonardo x reader #tmnt x reader #indulgent thoughts #bleh #regret’s alternate universes #yandere turtles #yandere Leonardo #regrettable art #rottmnt leo x reader #regrettable writing

451 notes · View notes