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hrtthrbromanov · 3 years

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Golden Boy

summary - Its been a long, long time.

word count - 3033

Warnings - smut, fluff, maybe angst if you squint?

Notes - Hi! I cannot write smut, so I’m deeply sorry about that. I just wanted to try my hand at it. However, if you do have any requests for future works please let me know ! I’d be more than happy to write it.

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Two years.

It's been two years since the incident in Lagos. Two years since the team split. Two years since you've seen him.

You run your palms nervously up and down your thighs, the friction doing little to subside your nerves. Your mind was spinning, thinking of everything that could happen. Everything that could go wrong. You were pissed, sure, but just the thought of seeing him again made you cram whatever petty thing you wanted to say to him in the far corner of your mind.

‘What if he doesn't want to see me too? What if we can't put this past us? What if-’

“We're here.”

Your debilitating thoughts stop at once. You stand, forcing yourself over to the window. Everything was so beautiful. So advanced. You can't wrap your head around it all. You thought pointing out everything you saw was a good way to ground yourself and quell the anxiety, but once you felt the jet lowering to the ground, your nervous habits got to you again, and you have to will yourself to not wring your hands raw.

“It's going to be okay, Lady Y/N.” A firm hand was placed on your shoulder as Thor offered you a few words of encouragement. You smile up at him, tight lipped and nostrils flared, still not convinced.

“Yeah, what's the worst that could happen? They call you a traitor, turning their backs on you and never speak to you again?”

You turned to face the talking raccoon, scrunching up your face in confusion. “I really should've skinned you a long time ago.” You retorted, tugging at his ears as he pawed at you in protest. “Cut it out, you're gonna give me tetanus, you rat.” You giggle, briefly forgetting about your impending thoughts.

“I am groot.”

“Yeah, what he said. Suck it, Y/N.” Rocket hisses, pulling away from your assault. You went to reply, but before you could you felt the ground shudder below you. ‘We've landed.’ You realize. You quickly smooth down your suit, going over yourself one last time. ‘Whatever happens, happens.’ you reason with yourself. You felt a gush of wind rush past you as the doors of the ship opened, revealing tall, eccentric buildings, complemented with a deep blue sky.

You hold your breath as you step out of the ship, unsure of what to expect. You let out your breath when the palace came into view. Your heart thudded in your chest when you made out a huddle of people right in front, no doubt waiting for you. Taking it a step at a time, you made your way over. As you neared the group you could make out Rhodey, Bruce, Natasha, Bucky, and Steve.

“Two fossils in one place? I didn't know this was a paleontologist convention.”

As if on cue, they all turned to face you and you could've sworn the world stopped for just a second. You didn't know what to do so you just stood there, offering a meek smile.

“Who you calling fossil, dollface?”

Bucky was the first to approach you, his arms open and a grin you missed so much on his face. You threw your arms around his neck as he encased you with his, squeezing nearly all you had left in you out. The hug ended all too soon as another pair of hands was pulling you two apart.

“Share some with the rest of us, hog.”

It was Nat. Your smile only grew upon seeing her. She pulled you into her, her hand going to cradle your head. “It's been too long,” she mumbled into your ear. You nodded against her, pulling back slightly to take in her face.

“Hey, Y/N.”

A small but unmistakable voice called from behind you. You pull away from Natasha's embrace to greet Bruce. He looked as nervous as you felt. “Now here's a face I haven't seen in a while. How you doing, big man?” You attempted to ease him as you took him in your arms.

“I've had better days,” he said, the reply muffled by your shoulder. He patted your back as a friendly gesture after you escape from his hold. His expression became softer, as if he were more sure of himself now.

“I hope you weren't thinking you could skip me.”

You turned to Rhodey to see his smug grin. You grabbed his hand in yours as he clasped a hand on your back. “Now why would I have such a thought,” you chuckle as he stepped back.

This left one person. The one person you haven't heard speak since you set foot in Wakanda. You knew he wanted to say something, to scoop you into his arms and say sorry, how he wished it'd never had happened, how he shouldn't have let you go. You could feel his eyes burning a hole into your head. Mustering all the courage you had, you turn to face him. But before you could say anything, a booming voice sounded from behind you.

“Bruce and friends! Come look at my ship!”

You could hear Rocket bickering with Thor about how it was his ship, not Thor's, and how he was just some homeless pirate who needed to take a hike. You roll your eyes as everyone made their way over to take a closer look. Everyone but Steve. You two stood there, neither one of you making a move to speak. The silence wasn't normal for you two, uncomfortable even, so you said the first thing that came to your mind when looking at his face.

“So, did you just not have razors, or were you going for a new look?”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, followed by a chuckle soon after. He stood up taller before he spoke, “You know, I thought I'd look cool, but now, I just feel.. old.” It was nice falling back into your silly exchanges, especially after such a time apart. The ache in your heart slowly dissipated as you looked into his eyes. You grin, tilting your head to the side, “Well, it's about time. You're only 70 years too late.”

Steve threw his head back as laughter erupted from his throat. As his laughter came to a stop, he was the one to pull you into a hug. You melt into his arms, taking in his scent as you bury your nose into his chest. You missed this. You missed him.

You held each other in silence for what seemed to be an eternity until he said it first.

“I missed you.”

“Getting all sentimental on me now, old man?”

“Y/N..” he chuckled at your attempt to minimize your feelings, though, by his eyes, you could tell it was no joke to him.

“I know, I know. I.. I missed you too, Steve. Man, I have thought about this moment for a long, long while. I-I don’t even remember everything that I wanted to say.” You were stumbling over your words, emotions getting too thick, it’s evident in your voice.

“Hey,” Steve ran his hands up and down your arms to soothe you, “we don’t have to talk about this. Not right now, at least. Let’s just catch up. Enjoy being back.” He smiles, and this time you could see the genuine happiness and relief in his eyes. He was gorgeous without even trying, and you’d punch him later for it.

“I’d like that. Thank you, Steve.” Your breathing finally evened and your words flowed once again. He never pushed you, and for that, you were grateful.

“But I do have to ask..”

“Steeeeve..”

“I know, I’m sorry, but it’s just been eating at the back of my mind. According to Rhodey, you left a note on the fridge six months ago saying ‘brb’?” He used air quotes to punctuate your silly informalities.

You laugh softly, looking down, “I called up some old friends, told them I needed a getaway, traveled the galaxies for a bit..”

“And Thor?”

“You know, we just got him a whole, I don’t know, two hours ago, but man has he eaten literally everything in the ship.”

You two share a laugh as you looked over to see Bucky berating the raccoon as he tried to pry his metal arm from his body.

“Should we leave them to it?” Steve looked back to you. His eyes fluttered over your face, taking in every detail. He left deliberate glances to your lips with no attempt to act on anything. You roll your eyes playfully, “Yeah, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

—————————————————————

“It’s so beautiful.”

You and Steve had made your way into the palace, now standing in a room high above the colony. You were looking out of the windows, which touched from floor to ceiling, still stunned by the advancement of Wakanda.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

You could feel Steve’s presence behind you now. Even from behind, you could feel his eyes rake over your body. He was trying to memorize every curve, every muscle, every ripple in your skin.

You turned to face him, as he didn’t seem as infatuated with sightseeing, more so interested in you. You tilted your head to the side as you caught the longing look in his eyes. “I was talking about this place. Wakanda.” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“That may be what you’re talking about, sweetheart, but I was talking about something twice as stunning.”

“Always such a charmer, Steven?” You rolled your eyes at his sickeningly sweet attempt to woo you. You didn't want to admit it, but even after all this time he still had hold of your heart.

The wind was pulled from your lungs as he grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you flush against his body. Your eyes found his as he studied you more intently now. His grip on you not letting up, as if he was afraid you’d run or disappear.

His face was closer now, his breath fanning your face as he spoke, “I miss you. I want you.” His voice came out as a low grumble, vibrating your entire body.

“And as much as I miss you, I think I want the old cap back. What do you say we get rid of that bear growing on your face? Don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy, but..”

“I get it, I get.” Steve chuckled as he pulled back, but not before placing a faint kiss to your lips, the feeling lingering just a little longer as he turned away, making his way to the bathroom.

You stood there for a second, watching him disappear into the bathroom as you contemplate your next move. Once you realized he wasn’t going to come back for you, you hastily made your way after him, eager to be close to him again.

Steve’s body hovers over the bathtub, adjusting the temperature of the steady flow pouring into the tub. You move to stand behind him, your fingers running up his sides and he shivers, leaning into your touch a bit. Your lips find their way to his neck, placing careful kisses along the curve of it, all the way down to his shoulder.

“You gonna let me take care of you, Cap?” Your voice comes out soft, and you’re almost embarrassed because of it. But you knew it didn’t really matter, because you knew he loved it. He turns to face you, grinning like the cocky shit he’d become as he caged you in against the bathroom sink.

“S’that what you want, sweetheart? To take care of your captain?” You shiver as his hands slide their way up your shirt, caressing your skin lightly. You roll your eyes, biting down on your bottom lip, trying to hide the smirk that desperately wanted to escape. You knew what he was getting at, and honestly, two could play that game.

“Yes, captain.” Your response doesn’t take any thought, and neither does his next move as he pulls your shirt over your head, flinging it into the corner of the room. You give his shirt the same treatment, and he chuckles as you struggle to pull it over his broad shoulders. He gives you some help, taking it off the rest of the way. You let your eyes travel down his chest while your hands go up it, and his hands find their way to the clip of your bra. Your back arches as he unclips your bra, letting it slip down your arms and onto the floor. He audibly growls and you laugh, pushing him back a little. You begin to wiggle your way out of your pants, never breaking eye contact with him. “Come on, Steve. I’ve never known you to be this slow. You can keep up, can’t you?” You tease him, giggling as you watch his eyes grow darker. Stepping out of your pants, your panties are the next to go. You can feel the nerves bubble in your chest, but it just makes this moment all the more exciting.

You saunter over to the bathtub, stepping in and lowering yourself down slowly. You quirk an eyebrow up at him, silently telling him to get on with it. You settle yourself into the water, hissing at the feeling of the warmth that covered your aching body. Before you know it, the water was rippling once again as his much larger body made its way into the tub with you. You watched him for a second before scooting down towards him, and he didn’t hesitate to pull you into his lap.

“Missed your pretty face..” Steve nuzzles his nose into your neck and you giggle, bringing your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. You shift so you’re straddling his lap, your hands resting on his broad shoulders, pushing him back gently to rest against the wall. You let your hands travel to his beard, smirking as your fingers tangle themselves in it. You reach for the clippers resting on the side of the bathtub, tilting your head as you eye him, curiously.

“I don’t know if I actually want it gone so soon.. It’s startin’ to grow on me. Maybe just a little trim.”

“Maybe… Maybe you let me take what's mine first.”

“Just as impatient as always.. Relax, golden boy.” He snorts at that, letting his fingers run up your sides, occasionally dipping below the water. You just hum, running the razor carefully over the hairs of his face. Before you could make a move, you felt his hands on your hips, hoisting you out of the water. Your yelp of surprise turned into a quiet whimper when you felt his hardening member graze the inside of your thigh. “S-Steve..” He shushes you, his half lidded eyes running over your form, causing you to shiver in his hold. “It can wait. I need you, babydoll.” His voice comes out in a thick, slurred drawl. You roll your eyes, setting down the blade.

“You’re lucky I don’t knick you with that.” Your threats are empty, of course, and he knew that too. It was all in good fun. The fun was cut short when the breath was knocked out of your lungs as he thrusts into you with no warning. You whimper, hands flying up to his shoulders as your nails dig into his skin. You bite your lip to hold in a moan as he slowly pulls back out.

“Nuh-uh, none of that. Want to hear you. Hear how much you missed me.” his thumb comes up to your mouth, pulling on your lip until you release it. He then takes that as a go ahead to resume, lifting his hips up and pushing back into you. He lets his head fall back against the wall with a thud, his mouth falling open. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. You been savin’ this pussy for me?” he growls, taking on a brutal pace, making the water slosh up and over the side of the tub.

You nod vigorously in response, nails raking down his chest. “Yes, sir. Waited for you.” You whine, bouncing up and down to meet the powerful thrusts of his cock. “That’s right, babydoll. This pussy is mine. And mine only.” his eyes are dark as he watches where you connect.

His mouth goes to your neck, kissing you gently, a nice contrast to everything else. Bringing your hands up to his face, you pull him away from your neck and up to your face, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. He wastes no time sliding his tongue past your lips, yours immediately submitting to him.

Suddenly, you cry out into his mouth as you feel his thumb on your clit, flicking harshly. “Steve, steve please.” your hand goes to his wrist, holding it in place to chase that feeling. He smirks against your lips, pulling away.

“Use your words, princess. What do you want, huh?”

He’s driving you mad, and in any other instance you’d leave to finish off yourself just to spite him, but you need him. “Please let me cum, steve. M’so close.” you pant, grinding against him. He gives you what you want, pushing on your clit just a little bit harder, sending you over the edge. You squeeze around his cock, taking him with you. He moans, holding you in place as he cums deep inside of you and you squeal.

“Steven! You know i don’t use birth control, you dumbass!” You quickly pull off of him, stepping out of the tub. You grab a towel, wrapping it around yourself. You turn around to glare at him, head tilted as if to wait for an explanation.

He laughs, stepping out after you. “Just doing what I should've done a long time ago, doll. Gotta make you mine. We’ll work out the details as time goes, but I want this with you. I don’t want to leave again.” Your face softens as you nod, walking into his arms, laying your head on his chest. “I want it too. Whatever it is. Promise we’ll stick together this time? No matter what?”

“I promise.”

#steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader smut #smut #marvel #avenger #bucky barnes x reader #bruce banner #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #nomad steve

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cheri-translates · 4 years

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Headcanon - woes of your children

This work, 小朋友的碎碎念, was originally written by 君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR’S SON ]

Sometimes, I suspect that I’m not my dad’s child.

It’s common knowledge (well, maybe not), that my dad is the manager and chef of Souvenir. Anyone who has eaten the pudding my dad makes will agree that his skills are superb, and I think so too. My friends at kindergarten are envious that I have such a gentle mum and a dad who’s incredible at making desserts.

But I think they have misunderstood the meaning of "gentle” and what my dad is really like.

I shan’t start with how my mum is always bursting with energy. Let’s start with my dad. He makes desserts frequently, and the house is often filled with the fragrance of pudding, souffles, cookies and little cakes.

But... they’re all for my mum.

Indeed, I’m unworthy of dad’s desserts.

“It’s not good for your teeth if you eat too many desserts,” says my mum while she eats one of dad’s desserts.

“As a man, you have to work hard to get what you want,” says my dad when I ask him for pudding. I admit that what he says isn’t wrong, but I just had my fourth birthday... 🙃

Normally, dad is very stern with me. He doesn’t let me sleep beside mum, doesn’t let me cry, doesn’t let me lose my temper at mum... It’s as though mum is dad’s child instead.

Actually, I think my mum is the true king of the house. She can get dad’s pudding, can openly challenge him, can act coquettishly with him, and has much more pocket money than I do...

Forget it, the more I think about it, the more I feel like crying. Looks like I should squat next to the dustbin and see if anyone would pick me up. I might be am definitely the most miserable kid in the world.

[ GAVIN’S SON ]

Dad says that boys will naturally want to protect the girl they like.

My dad is the Commander of Loveland City’s Special Task Force. He’s normally the type who’s cold-hearted and merciless, not even letting plants off. Sounds cool, right? But what his subordinates don't know is that at home, my dad is a henpecked husband.

Even the slightest frown from my mum causes him to worry for the entire day. Sometimes, when mum discovers that dad is injured, she’d cry until her eyes are red. Dad would repeatedly promise that he wouldn’t conceal any injuries from her the next time, and would kiss and hug her, oblivious that there’s a child at the scene.

Oh, I forgot to mention something. In my dad’s eyes, I have no standing at all.

The most precious treasure is always my mum. I don’t disagree though. After all, mum loves me very much, and I love her very much too. It’s only right that I protect her.

“When you have someone you want to protect, you’ll think of ways to make yourself strong,” dad once said to me. “First, you need to learn to sleep on your own, and not stick to mum.”

Although it does make logical sense, I suspect my dad has his own selfish reasons. But I have no guts to say it aloud.

Dad and I have agreed that next time, we’ll protect mum together. I said that when I’m all grown up, I’ll ensure mum can walk on the streets without worrying about getting disturbed by anyone or anything, just like what dad used to do.

After hearing this, dad asked where I heard it from - of course it was Uncle Minor. I watched dad make a call, arranging to meet up with Uncle Minor. After telling mum that he’d be gone for a while but will be back for dinner, he left.

So what exactly are dad and Uncle Minor planning to do?

[ LUCIEN’S SON ]

In my dad’s eyes, I might have always been an accident.

According to what I heard from the professor uncles in Loveland University, when my mum did a check when having me, the doctor said that I might be a girl. Back then, my dad had grinned so widely.

When he saw that I was a boy, his face was just as dark as how happy he was back then. I heard that before I was born, everything prepared was pink. Sigh, I didn’t realise that that was just the beginning of my route to more accidents.

Normally, dad looks refined and cultivated, and sometimes dotes on mum a lot. Why do I say “sometimes”? Because I’ve seen dad bullying mum, pressing her down on the bed. Mum even cried.

Then again, dad is a 180m man, and is so heavy. If he presses down on me too, I’d definitely cry too. Furthermore, mum is a girl.

Dad seems to turn a blind eye to my existence. For example, when we eat dumplings, he’d hold onto mum’s hand, and occasionally hug her and kiss her and things like that. I also want mum’s hugs and kisses...

He can’t even fold a dumpling properly. Even till now, he hasn’t learnt how to make a nice-looking one.

Normally, other people’s parents would address each other by name, or words like “wife” or “husband”. But my dad always calls mum “Little Butterfly”, “Silly Girl”, “Little Sweetheart,” “Greedy Cat”... It’s even more unbearable than how Torvald calls Nora “my little skylark” in “A Doll’s House”.

Despite my complaints, my dad is very incredible. He’s a university professor at such a young age, and even has a research centre named after him. Dad says that in the future, I have to do equally well or even better. I think so too. After all, I need to take care of mum in the future.

It’s pretty late, and I haven’t finished the test paper Dad prepared for me. I’ll stop here.

[ KIRO’S SON ]

My dad treats me pretty well. That is, if you ignore how he often makes me a scapegoat.

My dad is a widely known celebrity, so it’s necessary for him to manage his weight strictly. But my dad fails in this aspect. Quoting what Uncle Savin says, “Kiro, the only thing you know how to do is eat, eat, and eat!”

He doesn't eat alone though. He brings my mum along. That’s right, only my mum.

If Uncle Savin does a sudden check and finds snacks in the house, my dad would lack a conscience and assert that they belong to me. Although I’d feel maligned, I won’t rat him out.

Dad likes calling mum “Miss Chips”, and he says chips are a symbol to their love. But I’ve never seen other married couples eat the symbols of their love.

Apart from snatching snacks from me, he likes snatching toys as well. He’s always the one to open the presents mum gives me. He says it’s because he’s afraid I can’t open it given my young age. If that’s the case, why doesn’t he give it to me once he has opened it?! What a liar. 🙃

Everyone says that I look cute, and I think so too hehe~ My mum enjoys kneading my face and ruffling my hair. I think the only time I’ve won against my dad in my four years of existence is when my mum commented that I’m cuter than he is.

Every time my dad bullies me and doesn’t let me get close to mum, I’ll think of what my mum said. A man has a magnanimous heart, so I won’t hold it against him. When he’s 70 or 80 and balding, while I’m in my wise 40s or 50s, mum will definitely like me more.

Forget it, I shan’t hold it against him. Apple Box is barking at me to take him out for a walk. His golden hair really reminds me of a certain someone!!

[ SHAW’S SON ]

I think my dad and I get along pretty well.

He likes taking me out skateboarding, and I like it too. But if I were to accidentally fall and injure myself, my dad would be scolded by my mum, and I won’t be able to escape her wrath either.

My mum looks really fierce when she scolds us. Every sentence from her is stabbing. According to her, it was a skill she developed from bickering with my dad when they were younger. Thinking about my dad’s sharp tongue, I do agree that it’s a possibility.

Although my dad looks like a bad citizen, he’s really good academically. According to my mum, he was the only graduate student in Loveland University archaeology department at the age of twenty. He’s the teacher’s pet, a model for his male juniors, and the target of females... I digress. But back then, it was true that many people tried to woo him, but he was only interested in mum.

He loves giving mum nicknames, like “Liu Chun Mei or “Guo Xiaoyu", and "Qing Tingyan". I’m so glad my mum threatened my dad for the privilege to name me. I can’t begin to imagine if my name was coined by my dad, I’d probably be too embarrassed to meet anyone.

[Note] These are the fake pseudonyms Shaw calls her in the Chinese version. In EN, the pseudonym he gives her is “Mary Sue”.

My dad has a unique way of drinking beverages. According to the uncles in his band, my mum used to love drinking bubble tea. But eventually, her tastes got strung along with his strange ones. They’re both pretty compatible hahaha.

His taste buds aren’t the only strange things. His aesthetics are strange as well. Wearing Buddha beads with leathers gloves, a jacket with rivets... My mum says she kept his leather jacket when she was pregnant with me. But once I was born, he took it out again.

It’s 11pm, and dad and I have planned to sneak out to do spray painting on the streets behind my mum’s back. We’ll continue next time.

More translated and original works: here

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #mlqc kiro #mlqc shaw #cheri shortcake

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clockworknightmares · 3 years

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The Gift

I’ve had the ideas of this fumbling around in my drafts for a long time now and I finally finished it. I’m glad I waited thought because I had time to think long and hard about the way in which Rowena acquired Dray and what that might look like. This is from Vys’ POV, however I might write Dray’s POV at some point too.

Tw for “it” as pronouns, dehumanization, slavery, blood, muzzles, drugged whumpee (only briefly mentioned).

“That one.”

Vysthrain’s gaze follows to where Rowena’s finger is pointing. “That one? You can’t be serious, your Majesty. That one is- looks unremarkable. If- if I may be so bold.” He catches himself at the last moment. It never bodes well to contradict the Empress. He glances at her, gauging her reaction to his blunder. However- his opinion stands. The bloodied… boy in the arena below looks one more hit away from his demise.

Rowena laughs, a melodic sound with an edge that sends a shiver curling down Vys’ spine. She doesn’t seem bothered at his difference of opinion. “Ostra Ailmer doesn’t know what he has.”

“But you do.” It’s a statement, not a question. He can see the cogs in her head turning, that slight twitch of her lips when she’s thinking. More like scheming, his brain provides unhelpfully.

“That I do.” She keeps her eyes trained on the man in the arena as he runs his opponent through with the short spear he wields in his hand. It’s clearly not his weapon of choice, but he’s making it work. “You see, that is a half dragon.”

Vys snorts and plucks a grape from the bunch on the table next to them. Her majesty seems to be in a light mood, a mood in which he is allowed to converse freely. Within reason. “A half dragon. I think you have had one too many glasses, your Majesty. Everyone knows there’s no such thing as male halfbreed dragons.” He pops the firm grape into his mouth and rolls it around on his tongue. “Besides, if there was, surely they would be more… impressing.” He keeps his eyes on her and away from the blood splattered sand below.

“And that’s where you’re wrong.” Rowena sits back and smiles to herself. “You see, it’s not that there’s no such thing, it’s that they’re incredibly rare, almost unheard of and Ostra Ailmer doesn’t know just how valuable that possession is.” Her eyes narrow as she turns her attention to watching again, fingers steepled in the way she does when she’s thinking. Vys recognizes the look as that dark shimmering greed of hers. He’s seen it a few times- and knows if it’s something she truly desires, nothing will stop her until it’s in her possession.

“And you’re going to get it, how exactly? Whether he knows what he has or not, Ailmer won’t give up a winning fighter easily.” Because- despite all odds, they were currently naming the object of Rowena’s attention the winner.

She leans over and pats his cheek like he’s a child asking a silly question. “Vys dear, when have I ever not found a way to get what I want?” It’s a rhetorical question. One that doesn’t even warrant an answer. He knows very well she has her ways. Even as Empress she can not simply demand what she wants, but there are ways.

“Sounds like you are already coming up with a wonderful plan, your Majesty.” He leans into her touch, as he knows she likes and gives her an easy smile. The heat of the day is not so unbearable to him in this moment. “Is there anything I may do to assist you in it?” If she becomes infatuated with some new object, will he be forgotten? He will never let that happen.

“Perhaps”, she says, idly watching the guards half guide, half drag the winner out of the arena. “However there might be no need for any form of coercion.” She gives him another smile. He knows all her smiles by now. This one is self satisfaction, security in her own plans, and just a hint of mirth. “My birthday will be arriving soon. And with it- gifts.”

…

There are such practices in court, that on the ruling monarch’s day of birth, they host many grand parties leading up to the day. These days are important as they allow the mingling of many Ostri and other important personages, officials and relatives, ambassadors and priestesses. It is the time to make important connections, vie for favors and with the right maneuvering, raise your position in court and the eyes of the Empress. A very difficult thing to do indeed.

It is one of the busiest times of Vys’ year, being both companion and spy for the Empress. Her eyes and ears in court, as she must keep herself from mingling too much. He knows Rowena keeps him to herself, not only because he owes her his life, his very existence, but also because he is invisible and they both know it. He is fae, lesser. And therefore apparently- deaf and blind.

The festivities begin several weeks before the actual day, plenty of time for Vys to worm his way into many circles, sometimes through rather unpleasant means. But if it solidifies his usefulness, his position in Rowena’s eyes- He will give all he has. He may not have need to coerce Ailmer into giving up this new arena rat, but the Ostra might need a nudge in the right direction.

The first time he makes contact with Ostra Ailmer is at a social gathering of the more relaxed nature and the man in question- appearing to have had one too many of the overflowing cups of wine, was in the perfect condition for Vys to begin his plan. The air is warm and thick, cloying in only the way that incense and perfumes bring in small spaces. Vys was more than happy to keep the Ostra’s cup full, hang on his arm, whisper the seeds of Rowena’s desire into this man’s ear.

“The Empress is very fond of the sport”, he says silkily, gliding his fingers along the man’s arm.

“Indeed, so they say”, the Ostra replies, twisting the sheer fabric of Vys’ shirt around his fingers. They are pressed close in some low, overstuffed seat, no other ears around.

“I have heard such wonderful things about your champions though. Some say a stock even to rival hers.” The flattery was working, Vys can tell. This man, wrapped up so much in his own self importance, wouldn’t notice a trap until it was too late for him.

“But of course. My lot is the best in all of Athyx Cyreos. I import you know. Better than pulling from the same pools that seem to go around here.”

“Have you ever found anything...extraordinary in your imports?” Vys knows he has to be careful in his words, Ostra Ailmer must never know what he has.

“I do believe I’ve found a champion, a survivor. Not much to look at of course, I did not think it would make it past initial training, but it has done surprisingly well for itself. That is- hasn’t died on me yet.” He laughs, an ear grating thing, and somehow Vys finds it difficult to laugh along with him.

“You know, I have heard some gossip about what the queen desires for her gifts this year, you seem like the type of man that would do well in her court, one I would enjoy seeing around more often.” Vys trails his long fingers down the row of tiny buttons that make up the front of the Ostra’s tunic.

That gets the man’s attention. Vysthrain, however not known to be the Empress' ear, is certainly known as a permanent fixture of the court and Her Majesty’s upper circles. He has access most Ostri can only ever dream of. The gossip of the upper circles is as close to facts as he will ever get. And the gift presented to the Empress has a direct effect on the status and placement you can hope to achieve that year. A gift well received means favors and power. A gift ill-suited to her Majesty’s desires can bring shame and loss of influence.

“You say the Empress might have desire for some of my imports?” Ailmer says, sitting up and glancing around to see if any stray eyes and ears are on them. There are none, save those soaking in his every reaction to take straight back to Rowena. “Tell me fae, what you know of this.”

“Well, you never heard it from me”, Vys says, pulling the Ostra back down to be seated. “But she does have an eye for the unique. Something… different from what others have. She is our Empress after all.” How many more hints must he drop before this man gets it through his wine-addled head? Then again, Rowena had said that Ostra Ailmer did not know what he had.

“She wants a strong champion, one to win for her?” Ailmer asks, missing the point entirely.

“No-” he starts, nearly frustrated but stops. He’s better than this. “No, I have heard the Empress desires it to be nothing, so that she may turn it into something” He recalls the image of the bloodstained boy in the arena. It had won, but barely. There was certainly nothing there, but that was the appeal for Rowena. She likes to rub her victories into her opponents faces.

“I- I will take this information into account. It has been… most helpful.”

Vys gave a lazy grin and stroked the line of the Ostra’s jaw. “I am most pleased to be of assistance to you. In any way that I can.”

…

With the Empress’ desire secured, or at least he prays it is, Vys leans back into his job of attending every gathering, rooting out every gossip, avoiding those few people he knows better than to tangle with. The day of Rowena’s birth arrives, and with it, the gifts and delicacies and flatteries that never seem to cease. He can tell that she soaks it all in, but with a scrutiny in her eye that he knows sees through the genuine devotion and the false praise. Vys knows most of it is fake, simply a vie for attention and power. But so must it be, it is their way.

She has become fixated in these weeks, wondering more often than not if she can simply buy the thing she wants. But Vys reassures her that letting this be gifted could lead to an established connection with the Ostra and his imports and also the ability to show him up, simply giving away something so valuable (according to Rowena). Vys knows not of dragons and their worth, but it does seem to be a point of fascination with Her Majesty.

So it is of no surprise to him when she awaits this moment with a form of anticipation, not shown on her face, but in the way she sits up straighter, leans forward slightly, jeweled claws tapping slightly on the arm of her throne. She is raised a good deal above the court, stairs to a platform where her council and inner circle have their places, then still more stairs to her. The Ostri are allowed to ascend to the first platform to present their gifts.

Vys lingers there, keeping an eye on them, watching and mentally recording their gifts. The Empress allows him at her side, near the throne to be at her call, so he often moves between, catching a whisper from her in his ear, making (slightly) judgmental comments about persons of the court. He has not succeeded in making her laugh on her throne, but wonders what would happen if he did. She would either find it extremely amusing or highly punishable. He fears the latter, so he keeps his tone even, with the dry humor he knows she is fond of.

There are many people in court today, many gifts being presented. But Vys knows that Rowena waits for only one. When Ostra Ailmer approaches, she straightens ever so slightly and pulls on her look of disinterest.

Vys tunes out most of the scraping and bowing and presenting, instead peering around for the thing that Rowena continues to fixate on. His heart begins to beat quicker when he doesn’t see it. If Rowena doesn't get it today, she is going to be most displeased. Particularly with him.

“And what have you brought for me today, Ostra Ailmer”, he hears Rowena say, clear and strong. She knows how to project her voice if nothing else.

“Your Majesty, I know you hold a great love of sport and pride yourself in having only the best in the arena. Your choices are always unique and with great might. I myself am in the humble occupation of procuring such items. Yet it has come to my attention that you wish for something to craft yourself, mould to your desires. And I hope that on this day, I can present you with such a thing.”

Vys finds himself holding his breath. If what Ailmer procured is not-

The two guards that flank the Ostra part and Vys realizes why he hadn’t been able to see it, dwarfed by Ailmer’s guards of imposing size. Vys looks it over, and feels Rowena next to him doing the same. It was a rather dismal-looking individual with two short horns curling from a shaved head, hands chained in front connected to a thick collar around its neck, a muzzle strapped tightly against its face, clothed only from the waist down. They have it shackled at the ankles, barefoot. Ailmer obviously had tried to clean it up, but the traces of freshly healed wounds are still evident across its body. It keeps its head low, its eyes on the ground. Ailmer has been able to train it that much at least.

The light catches in a glint on something at its chest, and Vys tries to get a closer look before realizing the room has fallen into silence and Ostra Ailmer has paled to the point of looking a rather sickly grey.

It has been several long moments and Rowena has still not given an indication on whether or not the gift was worthy. She too- as Vys has been- is studying the thing before her, lost in thought. It made sense to Vys, of course. They had been discussing this moment for weeks now, but he realized to the rest of the court and especially to Ostra Ailmer in hindsight, this appeared to be a very poor excuse for a gift. It was a single worthless looking thing. It was not as if Ailmer was offering the Empress his best champion. No. This was some untrained waif that he had drug up from who knows where.

“Y-your your Majesty, I-” Ostra Ailmer begins, quaking in his boots, and cuts himself off sharply with an undignified squeak as Rowena stands from her throne.

A sickening hush fell across the entire court. Even Vys, who knew that this was the gift Rowena desired, felt his breath catch in his throat. She never stood. She never walked down the steps.

Ailmer and his guards bow low, dropping to their knees and not daring to look up at her face. Her inner circle even bows their heads, backing away to give her space as she descends. Only Vys watches as she comes to the bottom of the stairs, in front of the thing in chains who is neither bowing, nor trying to move away from her. Vys thinks he hears Ailmer whimper.

Rowena’s dress pools at her feet, many lengths of dark red fabric like a waterfall of blood behind her.

A single gold clawed fingertip reaches out and catches underneath the thing’s muzzle, tipping it’s face up to meet her gaze. It’s eyes lock to hers, blue against gold, unblinking.

Vys isn't sure how long they stay that way, the oppressive silence across the vast room, the shivering Ostra at the Empress’ feet before she tugs the gift a step forward by the chain connected to the collar and cuffs.

“Ostra Ailmer”, she says, voice ringing loudly. Vys’ ears burn from the noise after so much deafening quiet. “Your gift is accepted.”

A general murmur comes over the entire court, first nervous tittering, then a few polite claps, then the court quickly recovers, returning to the claps and cheers of normal.

Ostra Ailmer looks as if his ghost has already taken leave of his body and ascended to the Mother.

“T-thank you your Majesty”, he whispers, not quite all there as his guards help him down the stairs. Vys has to try and not smile at the sight. The man will recover with time and most likely prosper well from this happenstance, but he will never forget this moment where he believed himself to be seconds from seeing his ancestors.

Vys watches one of the Empress’ personal guards approach as if to remove her new gift further behind scenes, but she waves them away with a subtle flick of her wrist, and ascends the stairs to her throne, chained gift in tow, stopping only once again seated as if nothing had happened.

Vys shoots a look across her to where she’s pushed it down next to her throne on the opposite side, golden claws slowly scraping across its shorn scalp. He meets its eyes for a moment, a cloudy blue, not quite there look. He recognizes the cloudiness. Ailmer must have had it drugged before bringing it into a room full of high profile individuals. Smart.

The look doesn't last long, as it turns its gaze and head downward. But there had been something in those eyes that didn’t settle him. A slight shudder rippled through his shoulders and he returned his attention to the remainder of the presentation.

Rowena had another smile on her face, one that he knew very well to be only one thing.

Victory.

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cherryhanji · 3 years

Text

all the love, hyunjin.

oneshot. hyunjin x jisung, hyunjin x female reader

genre: college au from the onset, high school au, neighbors au, tinge of fluff, angst

words: 2.8k

warning(s): super duper slight mention of alcoholic drinks, and nothing heavy at all except for the extreme trashy plot twist pfft, italicized words are in present times

•••

alexa's note:

y'all its good to be back after a month(?) of not writing hihi, good thing that my fam @districtninewriters decided to hold a valentines' event for their writers! Go check them out here! make sure to read my fellow writers' entries coz u won't regret it, they're amazing as hell!

•••

_____

It feels so good to be back home (even tho you went back last christmas but only for two days). Three years are too much and you missed staying for long at your childhood home. This time, you'll stay for a week so you will do everything with all your might while you're at your parents' house. And one thing from the list is to clean your room. Though you are aware that your parents sometimes clean it. But since you were here, it's time to declutter all the things that are no use for you.

You started by cleaning your closet, removing all the clothes that you don't need anymore. Bringing out all the ones you needed when you come back at the dorms. While rummaging through your clothes, you saw the brown box nicely placed at the bottom of your closet. You forgot that the box was here since your closet was stuffed with clothes. A smile crept up on your face as you grab the box. That box contains all of unnecessary things that you kept from your high school years.

You sat on your bed as you open the box, completely forgetting that you have things to do as soon as you open it. Torn pages from notebooks, folded papers, pictures, arcade tokens and random stuff are inside. Smiling as memories rush back everytime you see a specific stuff. The smile that was on your face eventually disappeared when a pink folded paper caught your eye. You picked the paper up and opened it. it was the letter from your neighbor, your bestfriend hyunjin. remembering how you felt after reading this letter from him.

•••

y/n. it's hyunjin.

i know you know why i made this letter. but if not, well i just joined our school's event. this is nuts and unexpected. but i guess this is the right time..? or probably not but i think of this as an opportunity. so why let it slip?

i know you'll be weirded out, and i'm expecting it tho. but pls don't worry. you don't have to do anything. i just want to give this to you so you can be aware of what i'm going to tell you.

•••

you suddenly remember that he made this letter because of the foolish idea your school came up for the valentines' day that time. it was when you were all in your ninth grade, almost 6 years ago.

•••

"So how many letters are you going to give to Jisung?" your friend, Ryujin asked as she fiddled with the letter she received from someone.

"Ryu, I already told him that I won't give him and he understand. And please, couples aren't required to do it. We already know that we feel the same for each other, so why bother? Jisung knows how special he is to me." You said, frowning at her. you already told Jisung about it. It's not that necessary and it won't affect your relationship, like it was such a shallow thing to do.

"Your annoying bestfriend's outside." Ryujin said and pointed at the door where you saw Hyunjin.

"I'll just go to him. Go read that letter with all your heart. Maybe they're the one for you." You said and gave her wink which made Ryujin roll her eyes at you.

"Hey stupid." You said as soon as you approached Hyunjin who pinched your arm jokingly.

"Hello too, my stupid best friend. So what are you up to?"

"You were the one who went here and you're the one asking that? I'm gonna ask that to you, what are you up to?" You said making Hyunjin silent, but the boy just rolled his eyes at you. What's with people and they keep on rolling their eyes on you?

"Whatever. You busy? Just wanna ask you to go with me to the mall. My treat." He wiggled his eyebrows at you and showed her mother's credit card.

"What the-- did you just stole your mom's card again? Wait let me tell her--" Hyunjin tapped your arm when you tried to get your phone from your pocket. He looks like he's the type of guy who wouldn't do it, but you've known him for years and he can be a sneaky rat sometimes.

"No I didn't- I asked her okay? And she let me because she knows I'm with you. She likes and trusts you so much she lets me use her card for our mini-date" He said and wiggled his eyebrows at you. This kind of banters are normal between and it doesn't really affect you, tho sometimes, or you should say, you used to feel moved by this kind of retorts from him. this means nothing to you now, as you said so to yourself.

"Okay, okay fine. But Jin, Uh, uhm. Jisung already asked me a while ago, and I said yes. So I might not be able to join you with your mini-date. Sorry." It's obvious that his expression changed into something that made you feel somewhat guilty.

"Oh, why did I forgot about that? Okay, nevermind. Enjoy your date then." He said and flash you a smile, and you can really tell that it was just a facade. But you decided to brush it off.

"Why don't you ask Ryujin? Seungmin? Felix?" You decided to suggest, since the three are his friends too.

"Uhm, yeah. I'll just ask them. Good luck with your date, by the way. I know Jisung will make you happy, especially it's your first Valentines' date together." He replied making you grin like an excited kid.

"Don't smile too much, you look ugly, remember?" He retort making you glare at him. He's back with being a mood breaker. He is really your best friend.

"Whatever, you look ugly too, you know that? Anyways, I need to go already, maybe Jisung's waiting for me. See you tomorrow then?" He nod before bidding each others' goodbyes, a little pained knowing that you won't join him for the first time on Valentines' day. Every Valentines', You and Hyunjin have a tradition of mini-date every Valentines' after school. Treating each other foods, but mostly Hyunjin was the one who always spends since "he proposed this idea to you" which you immediately agreed because Hyunjin's so fun to be with. But after rejecting him for the very first time, makes you a tad guilty. But he understand it, right? Yeah, he understands it.

•••

You had a nice and special day with Jisung. It feels surreal, because you were able to celebrate Valentines with the person you like, the guy who cherish you with all his heart. Jisung is a nice guy, and you'll do everything not to hurt him. He has a special space in your heart. The guy you're sure who will stay with you no matter what happen. Like Hyunjin.

You shook your head when Hyunjin suddenly passed by on your train of thoughts about your boyfriend. Hyunjin is different, he is your best friend, your confidant. The guy who you grew up with and also has a special space in your heart. But they are utterly different. Jisung is Jisung, he is your boyfriend. Hyunjin is Hyunjin, your bestfriend.

"Y/N! Y/N" You went out of your trance when you heard your mother calling your name downstairs. You just got home from your after school Valentines date with Jisung, and you must admit, you feel giddy, extreme butterflies took flight in your stomach. Everything was just perfect for you.

"What is it, Mom?" You went downstairs and saw your mom at the kitchen.

"Hyunjin's outside, calling for you. He's outside, I'm letting him in but he said he won't stay long, he just need to give you something. Go to him, don't let him wait." Your mom beckoned you to go to Hyunjin, you checked the time first and its already 7 in the evening, what's with him?

You saw him standing outside, looking edgy, making you baffled. Your "hey" made the boy jump a bit and flash you an obviously nervous smile.

"What's up? Mom said you'll give me something. What is it?" You said as you approached him, the higher the proximity, the nervousness he feels also increases. But why?

"Uh, hey. Uhm yeah. I'm gonna give you something. Uuhm- here it is." He gave you a folded pink paper with his trembling hands. You attempt to open it but the guy moved faster.

"Please open it after I leave. Please?" Your eyebrows knitted and nodded slowly, agreeing with the way he prevented you from opening the letter, making you more confused.

"So what's this all about, Hwang Hyunjin? Is this some sort of prank? A blackmail?" You said joking. Hyunjin just gave you a sheepish grin, completely lacking of words to reply to you. The answers are inside the paper he gave you. So what else would he say to you?

"No. Just promise me that you will open that one when I leave, okay? So, I'm gonna leave now. See you tomorrow?" Hyunjin bit his lip, bidding his goodbye to you before he sprint out of your sight, didn't dare to wait for your response. You just rolled your eyes and shrugged, examining the paper he gave you. But there's a sudden strange feeling crept inside you, didn't have an idea why and where it came from. You went back to your room and decided to read the letter there.

•••

Just promise me one thing. don't you ever dare avoid me after reading this. but maybe i'll understand it if you do. i am not insensitive you know?

yep, i like you silly. i don't know when this whole thing started. i swear, it's like wow, what's this i'm feeling? do i like y/n? oh yeah, i like her. i see and feel things differently when i started liking you, but not in a creepy way! i'm not that kind of person! it's like even if you're just doing those normal things like you always did back then, it feels more special, bizarre. is it always like this if you feel something romantically towards that person? or am i just overreacting? whatever it may be, that's what i felt.

remember when you slipped on the hallway because of the slippery wet floor, good thing i was with you and i am able to catch you, then you told that you really can't live without me? maybe for you it just casual, just a friendly banter, but for me? not gonna lie, it made my heart jump out of my chest. and luckily my face don't blush that too much, you're not able to see how affected i am with that. there are more, but i won't write that anymore. It won't fit in this goddamn piece of paper!

•••

Did you expect this? Absolutely not. But you wished he told you sooner, sooner so you won't feel any regrets now. He likes you, but do you still like him? You definitely don't know. You already have Jisung, but do you think that reason is enough? Your mind is rambling with thoughts. All you were aware of is you used to feel the same way for him. But is it still here? You really don't have an idea. Why does it have to be late?

Hyunjin is the type of person who you will easily like. With his bubbly, sometimes slow-witted (yeah he is) but caring and loving persona, you'll just eventually love everything about him, no wonder all girls from your school are after him. And you are an example of it. Having an advantage as a best friend. You are lucky that you are one of the women he treasures the most. And you are grateful for it. Too grateful that you started growing feelings for him that exceeded the line of being just best friends. It lasted for about two years, you know you were too young back then, but it's Hyunjin and you know how much he cares for you. But soon you realized that he's just being like that since you are his best friend. So you tried moving on, thoughts of telling him about what you feel passed your mind but didn't have enough courage to do so. Now, knowing that he feels the same way too, made you feel somewhat regretful. You are mad, just mad. But do you have any rights to be mad at Hyunjin? Actually none. Guy doesn't even have an idea you like him too. This whole situation is so much frustrating than you've ever imagined. You never want this to happen, no one wants. Now, you have no idea what to do, with Hyunjin's feelings. He did mention that you don't have to do anything, he just wants you to know how he feels, but it's like something inside you was telling you otherwise. What are you gonna do now?

•••

you know, you've been my bestfriend for years ever since you live in this neighborhood, and i am so grateful for that. i am grateful enough to know you, grateful enough to be a bestfriend that is always by your side. So please, please don't say sorry if you don't feel the same way. i just want to tell all of this to you, because i can't always keep this secret. i needed to vent it out. i need to tell you. so that i won't regret it in the future.

i can see how happy you are with jisung. and i am not planning to steal that happiness from you. what kind of friend am i if i'll do that? i know you too will last, i can feel it. but don't forget me, yeah? i am still your bestfriend, your neighbor, and your best boy.

all the love,

hyunjin xx

•••

You were thankful that Hyunjin stayed by your side after all those happened. He accepted that he won't stand a chance anymore. You tried and tried, to get rid of those feelings left you have for him and luckily, you did. You were happy with Jisung.

You picked up another folded paper, this time it was a letter you made. For Hyunjin. You planned on giving this to him, but you soon realized that all your feelings for him are much better left unsaid. You don't want him to feel remorseful just because he didn't tell you what he feel sooner.

You heard the doorbell rang, immediately jumping out of the bed, thinking that it was your parents.

"Coming!" You shouted as you run your way down the stairs and greet the person from the other side of the door.

"Mom? isn't it too earl- Oh." Your rumblings abruptly stop when you saw who is the person, are the persons outside your home.

"Hey Y/N! how are you?" Ryujin greeted you and envelope you with her warm bear hug, a smile automatically creeping up on your face, as the other people flash you a smile.

"I-I'm good. How about you guys? Come in, come in!" You said and let them inside your house.

"I'm definitely fine! These two? I don't have an idea." Ryujin said as he rolled her eyes at the two, making the other guy frown.

"Don't tell me you two fought right before going here?" You asked the guys nod in unison.

"Exactly, because he almost declined from going here. What a brat, didn't you miss your best friend?" Jisung said making Hyunjin sigh in defeat.

"I do! It's just that I am not in the mood to get up from my bed. Our very entitled professor just rejected my proposal that I worked for almost two weeks, just wow." You can't help but to laugh at your best friend, he really did not change, so dramatic ever since.

"You know, you just need a date. You're depriving my best friend hm? Maybe Jisung's not being a responsible boyfriend I think, do you agree Ryu?" Ryujin sneered and nod in agreement, making Jisung groan.

"Am not! He's the one ignoring me these past few weeks, and you'll pass the blame on me? What a sweet best friends you are." Jisung babble making you all laugh.

"Well, don't fight now, please? Let's just all catch up with our lives. What do you guys want to do?" You suggested.

"Pizza delivery and soju please! I need that" Hyunjin suggested and you immediately agree.

"Gotta go upstairs and grab my phone, be right back." You said and run upstairs to get your phone.

You bit your lip and realize that you still have an unfinished business in your bedroom. You just shrugged and tidied the box, storing the letters back and putting it back inside your closet. For now, you just want to catch up with the people you cherish.

•••

oh my, this is my first time writing a scenario involving member x member pairing, tho not the main pairing, but i rlly hope u like it🙃

- alexa

#districtninewriters #inkidz #stayverse #stayhavennet #skzwriternet #stray kids #skz scenarios #skz imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids drabbles #skz drabble #hyunjin drabble #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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starrysupercell · 3 years

Note

Silly idea I just thought of: somehow, certain Brawlers lose the ability to lie. The cause could be as innocent as Jessie testing out a new Truth Ray, to something like Starr Park deciding that there needs to be more transparency between brawlers. Whatever the reason, there will be Shenanigans abound

Tbh this sounds super fun, >:) so, of course I'm gonna go into detail on some of them.

(This could be a whole story. Mind the messy layout.)

Brawlers who have to worry the most for business/socially/jobs: Piper, Byron, Belle, Griff, Mr. P probably?, Ruffs, Barley, Gale and, to a lesser extent, Lou (towards Mr. P),

Brawlers who have to worry emotionally: Stu, Penny, the whole Retropolis Gang, Edgar, Mortis.

Brawlers that would be fun if they were hiding something deep, deep down: Bo, Nani, Amber and/or Primo.

(Brawlers who are sus and would be more nervous about this than they should be: 8-Bit, Spike, Poco, Bea, Mike.)

No more sneaky gossip for Piper, and to a lesser extent, Emz. Piper could hardly speak to anyone since she loves weaving so much secret details in her words. I wouldn't call her "fake" because she genuinely enjoys company and has friends, but.. well, you've seen how I've written her. She's just... opportunistic.

Anyway, I'm sure it was in the middle of a conversation that ended badly. I wonder with whom?

Byron can't pitch sales for the time being. 😈

Customer: Well how do I know it works? Is it safe?

Byron: my good sir, I can assure you that...it's a highly experimental concoction. I've never used it myself because I would never be a lab rat to my own mixtures, but I have gotten a few constant test subjects around the park. Besides which, I have the utmost faith in what I'm doing. Even if there have been several unfortunate incidents in the past, I'm undeterred with my skill. Mainly because I'm beyond compare in my abilities but I also know I'm never the one at risk. Hahaha....

Byron:

Customer:

Byron: ...why did I say that?

Sadly Barley is unintentionally rude to several people too. Since this hypothetical truth ray/correction would prevent anyone from keeping their thoughts to themselves, he answers and comments with no filter. Several people (Rico, 8-Bit, Shelly, Bibi, etc.,) find it hilarious, Barley does not.

I truly wonder if the honesty policy also seeps into not only verbal truth, but making somebody avoid anything that's not "Honest" Work?

What I'm saying is, Belle can't even plan heists or delve into thinking up ways to sneak around.

Cue her announcing herself in the midst of a Robbery, ruining the plan and trying to turn herself in. (Unaffected members of her Gang might be able to get her out of there.)

Or, more ridiculously, that "This Pen Is Blue" scene from 'Liar, Liar' with her trying to sketch out a heist.

Maybe this one is a stretch? I'm not sure, but it is for fun.

Ruffs already has a hard time hiding his tail wagging. He's a serious guy who wants to be taken seriously, but now everyone will hear how proud he is of Squeak and how great a friend MXY Kit is to him, and how soft his heart actually is. Which, fine, maybe everybody already suspected, but it was never confirmed until now.

In short, gruff exterior dog is actually fuzzy, but it wasn't that deep down.

THE RETROPOLIS GANG, EDGAR AND PENNY.

1) Bull with his tough guy attitude would have trouble verbalizing mushy stuff. Crow just plain doesn't want to. Bibi is a mix of the two. She's naturally tough, and she doesn't have practice. Imagine it-- the tough gang on the block sharing emotions with each other and being buddy-buddy with people they're fond of! After the ordeal, they agree they need some time apart.

2) Penny is emotionally constipated because she leaves the bad thoughts locked in a chest. Also, she was raised by robots, so it's a little difficult expressing herself... but now she can say exactly what's on her mind! ...if she can even sort through her feelings. The truth device makes you unable to lie, but can it get you to know what you're feeling?

Penny: Holy shit, this is way too philosophical for me, my head hurts, please make it stop

Jessie: D: I wish I could help you!!

3) We all know about this tsundere emo boy. He greeted Colette with a "Hey, Colette. It's really great to see you today. I had a bad morning and you always brighten up my day." And they both knew something was up immediately. Now, as everyone is trying to resolve this, Edgar's Scarf is wrapped tightly after his mouth tightly, lest he says anything else, like how cool he thinks a few certain other Brawlers are, like Shelly, Crow and Bibi. Or how he looked up to and misses

Sorry, he parkour-ed away before he finished that sentence :)

....Stu won't be able to handle this, will he 😔

Stu: Oh, I'm not s-s-sticking around. Rebuild me-e-e when this t-t-truth nightmare is over🤘

Pam: Rebuild? But you aren't--

Stu: *falls into a pile-- he force shut himself down*

People who weren't affected because they're already 100% honest: Jacky, Sprout. That's it. They're the only honest folks here. Everyone else has something to hide.

I think that's about all the ideas I have for the Brawlers.

As for the cause, I like the idea of it being "Starr Park." If they thought complete honesty would work in making things running more smoothly, they thought extremely wrong. In fact, Happiness is dipping at an alarming rate. Clearly, this decision has to be reversed.

If it were Jessie, there's a more peaceful way to resolve this situation, and it started in a more innocent way too. That is, she made a truth ray for fun, but didn't think to make an option that reverses it, so she works on a "Lie Ray" as fast as she can while everyone suffers. (Yes she feels guilty.)

#Brawl Stars #Brawlstars #Too Many Brawlers #Honesty: The Best Policy?#Long Post #Ask

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jomnki · 2 years

Text

hey! are you stalking me? are you for tons of oversharing from a stranger on the internet? well do i have the perfect list for you my buddy. maybe ill give you my address next ohh boy, wouldn't that be funny. i just like listing and sorting things.

☄️constant fixation

🌞love

☀️past love

🌤️obsessed on one character specifically (blorboised)

🌠nostalgic

☁️enjoys casually

🌩️made ocs for

-(tip: a lone ☀️ means a long gone interest i no longer feel much for)

-(repeats in different lists means that the interest has a comic/show adaptation that ive consumed and like a lot!)

creator based content

scp universe 🌞

aphmaus mystreet and other rp series ☀️☁️🌩️🌠

nijisanji vtubers ☀️

tma ☁️

hermitcraft ☁️

games/franchises

pokemon (mainline and sideline games) ☄️🌞🌩️🌠

omori 🌞

ace attorney series 🌞🌤️

fe3h (just the one game) 🌞🌤️

sonic (lore>games) ☀️🌤️🌩️☁️🌠

danganronpa ☀️🌤️☁️

fnaf ☀️🌤️🌩️🌠

persona 3-5 ☀️☁️

animal jam 🌞🌩️🌠

furby ☁️

minecraft ☁️🌩️

digimon ☁️

yakuza series ☁️

animal crossing ☁️

strawdew valley ☁️

cookie run kingdom ☁️

legend of zelda ☁️🌤️

deltarune ☁️

undertale ☀️🌠

moshi monsters ☀️🌤️🌠

faith ☁️

cotl ☁️

inscription ☁️

hypnospace outlaw ☁️

shows/ their respective comics

case closed 🌞🌠

(fei ren zai) 非人哉 🌞

开心超人联盟 (happy heroes) ☀️☁️🌠

take my brother away (快吧我哥带走）🌞🌠

saiki kusuo 🌞

mob psycho 100 ☁️

card captor sakura ☁️

trigun ☁️

barakamon ☁️

chainsaw man ☁️

nozaki sensai ☁️

toh ☁️

kaguya sama love is war ☁️

miraculous ladybug ☁️

recovery of an mmo junkie ☁️

spy x family ☁️

tawog ☁️

peepoodo ☁️

gintama ☁️

full metal alchemist ☁️

hunter x hunter ☁️🌞

hetalia (sorry) 🌠

su ☀️🌠

fairy tail ☀️🌠

mha ☀️

ouran highschool host club 🌠

comics

oh holy! 🌞

junji ito's works 🌞

lookism ☁️

(快吧我哥带走) 🌞🌠slice of life stuff with a pair of siblings who are normal

(硬核一中) ☁️ manhua about these two fail boys and their classmates, i camt find a english translation of this so i might do it myself at some stage

(头条都是他) 🌞 slice of life drama comedy with an idol group of assholes

(非人哉) 🌞 4-koma comedy based on chinese mythological beings and deities but haunted by capitalism i guess

(小心被梦魔吃掉哦) ☁️ uhm.

(别对我表白) ☁️ a guy accidentally gets his friend in a car accident after running away from a confession.

omniscient reader ☁️ office worker's hyperfixation comes true. he girlbosses his way out.

(她们的故事) ☁️ girl likes girl they kiss

kings maker ☁️ i fucking hate the monarchy

karasu gaoka don't be shy!! ☁️ vigilante gang leaders rivalry that isn't gay at all

fanmade creations i like

rusty pectorior ☁️ fanfic centered on notyx and psyborg, felt like i was watching an entire show

in which sunny can't name things ☁️ textfic based post true ending omori. they're just being silly and goofy.

stuff im kind of interested in learning more about

splatoon

unrelated general hobbies and likes

🍰drawing, sculpting, animating, writing- just making stuff in general

🎾i love seeing people be unapologetically cringe. i love your sans au where he's god go you.

🥩 kidcore, horror, primary colours, horror, sunflowers, retro, soft sunshine

🐙 paleontology, anthropology, history, biology, learning about as much stuff as i can and being annoying about it

🍨thrifted items, collecting, trinkets, wonky toys with the felt and plastic, plushies of many shapes and sizes preferably not full of fur, erasers, stickers, magnets, badges, keychains

🥞sorting things out by different categories, the rough texture of a washed hung out and dried towel, rain, cold weather, the blanket ive used for ages, organising belongings, playlist of animation memes and songs i play while i run around pretending in my head that im super awesome, running around without said playlist, going through old stuff

🍄the video game grinding, hoarding and organising in games, strategy games, bullet hells, rpgs

🍮 my boy, dogs n cats n rats, reptiles, birds, t-rex, dragons, animals I love animals

🍩 burgers, small bits of shredded chicken, apples, round grapes, cold cereal with plain cereal and granola, fruit juice, red roasted beef noodles

🥑 whatever music i can imagine my funny oh cees move to

✖️ hot weather die die die, the feeling of hair tickling my face, smell of my own sweat, nose itchy sneezy makes me want to kill, oily textures, my nails against the plaster wall, the plaster wall itself, the feeling of certain pens against paper, not having something to chew on, running around when i trip on something invisible and give myself the third bruise that week, hair going karen mode, remembering names and numbers,

the blorbos (not ordered)

dimitri fire emblem. i love depressed traumatised men that can kill me.

kiibo drv3 is my son in law

herlock strangler

i desire bowser carnally.

yoshi is my other son in law.

the dogs from sanrio. all of them

the dawg. you know the one.

#i am cringe and i am free

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

Note

Patty have you ever asked Janus to join for dinner when you meet him? Maybe that can somehow help Logan with his flirting? Or at least get Janus more relaxed?

(btw you're adorable ily!!)

(*cracks knuckles* Oh yeah baby we’ve gotten to the angst. Words: 2364 )

Patty: ": D Oh hello lil magical bird who just talked to me! I love you too!! I didn't want to barge in too much into their relationship but now when my honeypie has asked him out once already I guess I can help just a bit!"

Patty had sunglasses on to look like a secret agent. This was an important step in her plan, she swore on it. She sneaked into the open library while chuckling to herself.

She glanced around and almost immediately caught her eye on Janus standing in the reception. She did a few sneaky walks between the bookshelves before sliding up to him.

"Hello Janister!" She greeted with a bright smile while putting her elbows on the reception to lean closer.

"Hiya PatPat. Logan is off helping a customer but he'll be back soon"

"Oh silly I'm not looking for him right now. I am actually here to ask if you could come over to our place tonight. You see I'm planning on making Jambalaya but I always make too much! I'm talking leftovers up to the roof!! But if a third person was there maybe I would be able to make a perfect amount" She lied. She was making jambalaya for Janus purposes alone!

Janus' heartrate shot through the atmosphere "To- me?- your place?- tonight?- I uh- I don't know if I have time-"

She pouted and did her puppy eyes "You sure? You don't have to if you don't want to!! But it would be nice!"

He let out a happy sigh "Sure"

She took his hand and let out a sqeaul "aaah Great! It'll be so fun!!"

---

Logan was leaning down so Patty could help him with his bowtie. "Are you completely sure I look adequate?" He asked.

"Oh honeybee, You look super duper ultra adequate. You're literally wearing a sweater with a math pun on it!!"

"Hmm sound argument. I can not deny the sexiness of math puns"

A knock came on the door. The couple stared at each other. Logan stimmed out of nervousness. Patty gave him a quick kiss before pointing between him and the door. They did a good luck high five.

Logan combed his hair back and leaned on the wall to look cool as he opened the door. Janus stood on the other side looking like a sardine that had just been pressed into a can.

He had on a purple vest with embroidered flowers details and with a long sleeved black button up under. Also a very funky pair of stripped pants with even funkier yellow snake socks under.

"Greetings Jan. You are looking" Like a dream. Like someone he wanted to kiss right this moment. "Very good"

"Aww are you trying to be a snake charmer Log-boy" Janus replied with a smirk.

"I am not a log or a boy. I'm an adult man made out of meat"

"You better be because I'm starving" He had downed 2 shots of vodka before coming to try to and cool his extreme anxiety. He was a lightweight.

Logan lead him into the living room "Are....Are you implying cannibalism?"

Janus shrugged while smiling.

The apartement truly did look like a mismatch of the couple's personalities. The walls were filled with maps of constellations and uplifting cat posters. On the bookshelfs cook books and travel books were stacked next to thick philosophy books and essays. The decorations were either cute porcelain animals, magical anime girl figurines or figurines of characters from Lo's different hyperfixations. The sofa was filled with fluffy blankets and pillows and stuffies were scattered around the light blue carpet filling the living room.

“Do you want to watch star trek while eating?” Logan asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“As long as I get to watch your beautiful face as well” Janus flirted back while doing an unsteady fingergun.

“Oh- Of course” His crush’s sudden forwardness was making his heart flutter.

Janus curled up in the corner of the couch, making himself as small as possible. Logan sat down pretty far away from him.

He started the first episode. Janus had a constant smile on his face as he listened to Logan go between telling him facts and gushing over his favorite moments. All while he could hear Patty in the kitchen half singing along to dad rock.

“Does she want help with that?” Janus, known gentleman and also nervous wreck, asked.

“She’ll tell us if she need it. She likes cooking. I like baking. It usually works out”

Janus got an amused look on his face “You’re into baking? So all those times at work when you brought desserts, that was your making?”

“Yes. And they were delicious. Anything wrong with that?”

“No. No. I simply didn’t take you for the type”

“Well cooking involves creativity and there’s room for your own ideas. Baking doesn’t. It is only about following a structure and doing kitchen chemistry. Of course I love it” He lowered his voice “It is also tremendously good for when you need to flirt without words”

“Oh really? I better start looking up recipes then” He pulled in Logan's bowtie “You have any favorites?”

In his head he had the guts to say ‘Your lips against mine would be my favorite’ in reality he said “HehuHFKdjf jam drops in the shape of heart. The heart part is important. It adds to the taste”

“It usually does”

Janus slowly looked him up and down. And then he realized what the fuck he was doing. He shot back into his corner of the sofa like a naked rat. Logan sat still with blushing cheeks, staring at the tv but not taking in anything that was happening except his racing heart.

“Done!” Patty exclaimed, coming in with a big ass fucking pot of jambalaya and a just as big bottle of wine.

She saw the nervous state both of the guys were in and quickly made up a plan. She slammed the pot down onto the coffee table and moved the blankets so they took up about half of the couch. Then she sat down using up as much space as possible leaving the guys no choice but to move closer to each other, If both of them sat their hands down they would touch.

Patty cuddled up to her husband with a proud smile on her face. Logan moved his arm around her.

“It looks great sweetheart” He pressed a kiss to her cheek making her giggle.

“So do you!! And so does mr. star trek captain man!”

She enjoyed the hell out of her jambalaya while the two idiots sent each other awkward smiles. Janus downed his glass of wine in record speed. (He took it slower with the food, he didn’t want to seem disgusting).

The whole star trek episode went by. Logan asked Janus a thousand excited questions about how much he liked it. All of his answers made the nerd happy stim. They put on a documentary none of them were really interested in the background while continuing to chat. Patty went on a long epic story about how a kid at her daycare had tried to bite her finger off last week.

“Soooo” Patty sudenly changed the topic. She said it with an innocent tone “My nerdy lil honeypie over here had the biggest crush on Data for a while. It was adorable. ANd while we’re on the topic” The look she gave Janus was happy but it still sent shivers down his spine “You having any crushes lately? Just curious!”

Both of the men internally gasped at the audacity. The gall! The sheer power!! Janus was sweating like a naked rat who had just been clad for the first time.

“...Well.......I have actually been meaning to....Ask about the polyamourous thing?”

The couple exhanged knowing glances before looking back at him “Mhm yeah Mhm” “I am poly and also a thing so I am an expert in this”

“So...I totally haven’t fallen in love with 3 people. 2 of which I met in the span of around a week”

Patton did a double thumbs up. Logan took a long sip from his wine. “We’re all gossipy bitches here. Tell all about it”

“Well. The first one is Remy-”

“The one with the sunglasses?”

“...Yes...Are....Don’t tell me they’re a serial killer”

Patty broke up into a chuckle “Logie-bogie tried to kiss them while he was drunk once”

“I threw up on their shoes”

“He threw up on their shoes!”

Logan saw the terror in Janus’ face as he worried that maybe 2 of his crushes were exes and quickly added “We are only acquaintance and I was momentarily struck by the impressive lenght of their legs”

Janus went on to gush about Remy and Remus. Why he loved them. All the dates he had daydreamed about. And then finally his voice was shaking when he mentioned just having a third crush.

Patty let out a long yawn before he could say anything more. She stood up “Well looks like it’s time to snooze! I assume 2 big burly ultra masculine men like you two can handle the dishes”

“It will be a challenge but we shall do our best. Goodnight honey” Logan kissed her.

She leaned in and whispered “Good luck Logie-bear! You got this”

She giggled mischievously while going off into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her. Only the two lovebirds were left now.

“So the third crush? Who’s the lucky gentleman?” Logan asked.

Janus held onto his newly refilled wine glass so hard it nearly cracked. He forced a smile “Wouldn’t you want to hear about the fake couples counseling I go to together with Remus instead?”

“Fake what now?”

“Well me and Remus, who I am hopelessly in love with even though he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, started going to a therapist pretending we were a couple to see how long it would take before he realized we didn’t know each other. He hasn’t realized anything yet. It’s great!”

It looked like Logan’s eyes was about to bulge out of his skull “That sounds illegal. It should be. You are dragging shame onto the face of psychology you double dumbass!”

“I have done nothing wrong ever in my entire life and frankly I deserve to waste even more therapist’s time” Janus replied.

He let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose “Which therapist is it that you’re harassing exactly?”

“Dr. Picani”

Logan’s eyes widened and he shut his lips tightly “Emile Picani?”

“Yes.....Please don’t tell me he’s a serial killer”

He slowly looked away while taking a sip from his wine “I have had intercourse with that man”

Janus choked on his drink. He coughed while staring at his friend with wild eyes “YOU FUCKED MY THERAPIST????”

“No.......He fucked me” Logan replied in a quiet tone. “Besides he’s not even your real therapist”

“He is still a sort of therapist man to me! I told him I enjoy Lana Del Rey. That was a very intimate moment for me!”

“Well I had a very intimate moment with him too”

Janus looked at him with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. He let out a chuckle which turned into a laugh which turned into Logan not being able to not laugh along which turned into the room filling with nothing but flustered happiness and laughter.

Logan grabbed onto his crush’ arm just to have some contact with him while his eyes teared up from laughter. Janus leaned his head against his shoulder and curled up close to him while giggling so much his stomach hurt.

“Oh we’re idiots” Janus sighed.

“We are. We truly are”

They stayed sitting like that. So so close. Logan’s arm around him. Janus breathing being felt against the other man’s skin. Their hands touching. Only comfortable silence surrounded them.

A few minutes went by. Janus looked at him shuly. His thoughts worrying about everything and anything “Should we- ehm- the dishes?”

The moment broke. Logan moved away before standing up “I uh yeah- we should”

It was strange. Just dishing together with his crush made Logan happy. All he could think about was getting to be this close, this domestic, with him every day. Getting to wake up next to him. Kiss his knuckles. Share a morning with him.

“Who was the third crush by the way?” Logan asked, glancing over at his crush.

Janus stared down into the water “I- I can’t say it”

“Understandable”

He stopped and turned fully to look at Janus. He had never been more unsure of where to put his hands before.

“Well I can...Say it I mean....I....I...Janus.....You make me happy just by being near me...You are so wonderful...I....I love you”

Logan couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He took a step forward and cupped Janus’ cheeks. He leaned forward, so close, so close that their noses and foreheads were pressed against each other. It felt like had been starving for this.

Janus froze. His wide eyes stared in shock at the other man. His hand moved up to his chest on instinct, to try and push him away.

Logan noticed his reaction. Of course he did. It was blindingly obvious. He forced himself to move away. He forced the desire to kiss him to simmer out.

“I-I’m sorry-” He mumbled out.

“No....Lo..” Janus took his hand. Holding it so so lightly in his own “I know” He looked up at him “I know. I’m sorry. I should go”

A horrible feeling of guilt filled Logan’s throat “You don’t have to”

“I should go” He repeated, letting go of his hand.

Logan walked after him as he went to get his jacket “A date. Do you want to go on a date? Not just a hangout. Janus I- I want so badly to be close to you. We could go to the zoo, look at the snakes?”

Janus held his hand on the handle of the door. He didn’t look at Logan “Thanks for having me over”

He left. Logan stood alone in the hallway. His arms hanging helplessly at his sides.

#(:#loceit #mini fic #logicality #logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Robin and Red X

Just a silly thing I wrote for @animemangasoul. Hopefully this makes you laugh a bit, hon! No edit whatsoever.

The titans were having a difficult time reconciling their easy going, funny, sure of himself leader with the hot mess in front of them.

“Uhh…”Wally, the bravest of them all, places a careful hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should… call your dad?”

Robin turns to look at him so fast it almost looks like his neck broke. Beast boy screams, turns into a rabbit and jumps into Raven’s arms, because the sound that came from Rob’s mouth wasn’t human at all.

“If any of you call Batman, I’ll personally ensure living hell for everyone in the Team. This is MY case!”

Wally hastily retreats, hands up in a surrender gesture.

“Okay, okay! I’m just saying, chill. This Red X dude has been giving us all too much trouble, maybe Bats could point us in the right direction or…”

They think Dick said ‘no’, but it was more of a demonic screeching.

“But we’ll respect your wishes! Because you are our friend!”, and you scare us shitless, he added in his mind.

Roy signaled at Wally, the moment Dick turned his back to them again. Something like ‘are we calling the Bat anyway?’, to which Wally replied ‘I don’t have a death wish, fuck no’.

They never really get around to capture Red X, but no one dares to bring up asking Batman for help again. The mysterious anti hero keeps kicking all their asses each and every time they face him, always having a countermeasure for their specific powers or abilities, but honestly? He’s not as scary as an unhinged Dick could be, so they’d rather fight him than wait for bathed breath for Dick’s revenge if they went behind his back to solve the case with his old mentor.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Jason hasn’t inherited the Robin cape from his predecessor. Dick wasn’t happy, seeing a new kid using his suit without permission, when he himself apparently hadn’t been ready to let it go.

But Jason wanted to be Robin. Needed it. All the good he could do… the people like him he could help… This was his chance of doing right. Of proving the world (proving himself) he was not like his father, a complete and utter trash that belonged in the dumpster that was Arkham. That he, a street rat, could be a hero.

So he fought for his right to the mask, even if he sometimes felt the itch to go wild and do his own thing. Because honestly, being Robin was awesome, but having Batman constantly breathing down his neck? Yeah, not so much.

So when Dick, now Nightwing, approached him one afternoon while Bruce was out on business, he was both weary and desperate for some distraction.

Which was exactly what the dude provided.

“What I’m going to show you”, Dick starts, slowly, after he’s checked there are no ears on them, ”it’s Robin’s secret. The only one we manage to keep from Batman. What our ancestors saved for us, our legacy.”

“We are the only two Robins, dipshit.”

“Shut up this is a formal process. Do you wanna know or not?”

“Just… tone down the roleplaying.”

“Fuck off, that’s the best part.”

Curiosity trumping annoyance, he watches as Dick places a briefcase in the coffee table where he was doing his math homework.

“This right here, it’s all the information, anything you ought to know about our mantle’s most important endgame. This is Robin’s never-ending mission. Our Moby dick. Red X.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Jason approached Tim with the briefcase, Tim’s first thought was ‘he’s going to bribe me’- an automatic response after working on Wayne Enterprises for months now.

The second was ‘he has someone’s head there hasn’t he. Am I going to be an accomplice? What crime was this, and can I hide it from Bruce?’.

The third and final ‘maybe I should ask him first’.

His -thankfully sane now- predecessor reached the little nook where Tim had tucked himself, in hopes of staying hidden from Damian long enough to enjoy the mannor’s wifi without having to stand his bitching. He sits cross legged in front of him.

“So. Give me all you have on Red X.”

This was… unexpected, but not unprecedented. The family tends to think of him as a convenient alternative to some criminal wikipedia sometimes.

Obediently (because then he’ll get to go back to his research sooner), he rattles out what little he could scrounge on the antihero. It was, admittedly, not much; any younger hero had not heard of Red X, as he’d been dormant for some years now, and the older ones were forbidden to talk about him by Dick himself. The first Robin had claimed ownership of the antihero, and anyone caught working on his case without his permission would find themself with their life turned around in the most inconvenient of ways before they could even finish burying the evidence. With Bruce taking a neutral stand on the matter, merely respecting his son’s wishes, no one was willing to risk the fury of someone with Batman’s resources and knowledge.

Except, apparently, Jason, because he was opening the briefcase and turning it in his direction.

“Let me tell you a lil story, that Dickie shared with me some years ago. I wasn’t a good predecessor for a long time ‘ere, Timmers, and I wanna make it right by properly passing this on. The true legacy of Robin; the mystery of Red X.”

“I… I’m not Robin any longer”, he blurted out, though his fingers twitched to touch the contents of the briefcase, to go through all that juicy, sweet treasure.

“Doesn’t matter. Dickie gave Robin without your permission, but this… this only I can pass on, just as you can only pass it to the brat when yer ready. No one can take this away, or Dickie loses the claim he has on Red X.”

Jason opens the briefacase all the way, then.

Tim drops his coffee.

Suddenly, there was something way more important. As unholy as it sounded.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Damian was invited by Drake to their own private ‘bonding night’, he was weary but hopeful. He’d been trying to fix their bond for some time now, so he could not ruin this chance, as suspicious as it sounded.

So they watched a movie, ate vegetarian pizza (Damian felt emotions when he realized Tim knew, paid attention) and complained about their older siblings and their role as Robin.

“It’s just… a heavy burden”, he admits. If someone can understand his feelings, it’d be Timothy after all.

“I get you. There’s also the matter of Dick’s and Bruce’s expectations on you.”

“I have to be perfect for them, all the time. The smallest mistake and… I could lose my family. But I feel so trapped…”

Tim’s hand found his and squeezed it. When Damian looked up, the older teen had a compassive look on his eyes.

“I might have the solution for that.”

As if he had planned this (perhaps he had), Tim retrieved a briefcase from under the couch they were occupying.

“Dick gave this to Jason, and he to me. Now, I’m passing this on to you.”

Damian tilted his head, a bit confused.

“I.. am already Robin.”

Tim smiled and pushed the case closer to him.

“This is even better. The freedom to the bindings that come with the suit. Open it.”

Curious, still weary but unwilling to lose any ground he had gained with his brother, he obeyed.

And promplty dropped it to the ground.

“What is this?!!”

“This”, Tim smiles, cheshire-cat-like, “is the Red X costume, and all his toys. Including, but not limited to, a perfect holographic devise, to use to make people think you are fighting Red X, to clean your name should anyone suspect the truth. I’ve been using it all this last few months, to…”

“Ruin my life?!”, he yells, because it’s not a secret Red X had came back from dormancy to utterly fuck with Robin, taunting him and beating his ass at every turn. It had been doubly frustrating, because everyone refused to speak about the antihero to him, so he had no information on the man to hunt him down properly.

“Chill. I just.. needed to vent a bit. And this suit helped me, which is the entire purpose of Red X.”

“I...don’t understand.”

Tim placed the briefcase in the coffee table and inched closer to Damian.

“Dick created the alias back in the day, when the pressure of being a perfect Robin became too much and he just… wanted to fuck shit up. Unwind a bit. He couldn't do it as himself and lose all the respect from the other heroes he had managed to amass, so he needed a scapegoat for it.”

Damian felt a tug of interest in his gut. He tried to surreptitiously look at the briefcase.

“Being Robin is tiresome. It’s too heavy a burden. Always perfect partner, always a goodie two shoes… Red X allows you to go wild, be gay-do crime sort of thing, without meddling from any other hero in the community. Burn a warehouse. Use the rocket launcher B has under lock and key. Fuck whoever dumb crimefighter you dislike the most up. Stir shit whenever you feel life’s been too quiet. Let go and have fun... Damian, aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you just want to go ape shit?”

His fingers were digging into the suit before his older brother could even finish talking.

#my writing #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #red x #robin #nightwing #red robin #red hood #batman #crack #just crack guys #no plot #batbrothers #Batfamily Fanfic #my writting

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sweeethinny · 4 years

Text

Reputation - Don’t Blame Me (Chapter 3)

okay, I know the third track on the album is '' I Did Something Bad '', but, I would have to write something sad about DH or the Battle, and I'm already sad because my phone broke and anxious because today it opens the inscriptions for my entrance exam, so please have mercy and let's pretend this is the third track, and enjoy this cute and slightly naughty chapter. thanks, and sorry for any mistake

AO3

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Don't blame me, love made me crazy If it doesn't, you ain't doing it right

Ginny was feeling jealous, which was a stupid thing to feel.

You see that she had been warned, and had seen, about all this persecution on top of Harry, and had already said a few times about how she was not intimidated by the shit Rita was writing, definitely, but when that cow does a ''Search The Chosen One, for The Chosen One'' you can't help but curse her.

Harry's picture had been taken in the middle of his training, while he was all sweaty and shirtless, making bars focused on the action, with his hair all messed up and his eyes determined, each time he forces himself up and down, taking the his chest close to the iron bar, his biceps appeared in all his glory, and his abdomen was spotted too. Even that V-line that gave directly to what was rightfully hers! - since when he asked her to date, at least.

Okay, they haven't taken over the world, but who cared? They thought that no one would gossip much about Potter and his romance with a Weasley .. Of course, they didn't expect that!

'Harry Potter, The Chosen One, is single and up to date!

As you can see (page 10), Harry Potter has been working out like never before, devoting himself entirely to his Auror training, seeming to want to be up to date for any girl - or boy, who knows - who is ready to warm up his lonely nights. Now that he left Hogwarts and the whole war is over, who could say that our darling Chosen One would be so willing to stay in shape? It's almost like he are doing this to someone, but the Daily Prophet has already done his research, and girls - or boys - rest easy, there's no one in our wizard's life- '

"Hey!" She growled irritably, trying to pull that newspaper out again, ready to get a reason to send a badly created letter to that witch.

''No, you're going crazy'' Hermione sat on top of the paper, in front of her at the coffee table and looking a little bit angry too

'' Is she looking for some opportunist to warm up my boyfriend's cold nights ?! How can I not be crazy about this? Would you be calm if you were Ron on this page? Looking like a prostitute? ''

Lord, save me, my drug is my baby I'll be using for the rest of my life

’'Of course not. But I doubt Harry knows that, he wouldn't let any of that happen if he did.'' Her chest burned, imagining all the most beautiful girls sending letters to him, sending pictures, inviting him to dinner. Ginny was not insecure most of the time, but looking at herself, in a small and slightly dull body, and imagining a tall older woman with evolved breasts was torture.

''I hate that woman ... Didn't you fix her?'' She almost snarled, thinking of all the scenarios in which Harry betrayed her. It was unfair to think that, he would never do any of those things, but it was impossible not to think. If that had come a week ago, she would have been calm, but when she hasn't received a letter from him in eight days and is close to menstruating, Ginny feels that maybe she is bursting with hormones.

''She's not lying, technically, nobody knows about you.'' That made things worse. Would they have to shout to the seven winds they were dating for Rita not to turn him into a product?

The girl could have said something about it, but then she felt vulnerable in a way that she hadn't allowed herself since she was eleven, trying not to pollute her mind with theories that explained it; 'Harry didn't want to be seen with her.' 'Harry preferred other girls' 'Karma was finally working and she would get back the hearts she had broken'

I've been breaking hearts a long time And toying with them older guys Just playthings for me to use

As if it could read her mind, the brown owl entered the Hall, still half empty, too early for it to be flying, stopping a little irritated in front of it while waiting to be released. Ginny took the parchment off her leg and let it fly to the owlery as it looked like.

'I'll be investigating a situation at Hogwarts at nine o'clock in the History room. They said something about someone being in trouble. Just warning you :)

With love, Harry '

''What did he send?'' Hermione was still sitting on top of her Prophet, but she snuck as if she wanted to read, so curious that it looked like Ron

''Nothing, just talking about being fine'' Lied, because the friend would not love the idea of Potter making excuses while she should be studying - and he too - to date in the castle with her.

She had loved him, for a long time, and ever since they were together again, Ginny had been feeling really happy, smiling at every clandestine conversation in Flu, or in the mirror they shared, even in those little moments when he appeared with a false call to be taken care of, just to grab it in an empty room. But it was disappointing to think of more beautiful girls paying attention.

The redhead hated that damn Rita, made her think of that shit about her boy.

Something happened for the first timeIn the darkest little paradise Shaking, pacing, I just need you

[...]

When it was ten minutes to nine, and Ginny had already cursed (mentally) some people who insisted on commenting on Harry's body and how they wanted to be able to send his letter to the Prophet - apparently, the best letter would compete for the chance to go out with '' The Chosen One '', which she found very stupid, since Potter was so much more than that fucking title - the girl got tired of walking back and forth in the common room, pretending to study and review Transfiguration, and in a moment Hermione's distraction, she ran away.

Sneaking up to the correct floor, listening intently not to be caught by Filch or anyone else, Ginny managed to get into the room, looking twice into the hall before entering, the pitch formed from the closed windows and the extinguished candles consuming her.

'' You arrived early '' Of course, her stupid boyfriend was already there, hiding somewhere in the cloak, as if he were a murderer.

'' I thought I'd hurry up a few moments '' The candles around her were lit, while the door seemed to lock behind her, and she saw him after almost two months - live, at least. Harry had really stopped being that slender teenager, now his broad shoulders had gained strong, turned arms, and his dark blue shirt was tight around his chest. She could see a ripple or other in the abdomen, the narrow hips holding the black pants, while his thighs also appeared slightly. It was nothing exaggerated, but she understood a little, that obsession of the Prophet. Besides, now he wore a beard - which Ginny always supported - and as much as his hair was still that rebellious mess, he was lower on the sides after the cut Molly had made, making him look less like a frightened teenager, and more like a man.

'' Hello '' Harry smiled, as she approached the teacher's desk and leaned there, crossing her legs and watching him approach, smiling from ear to ear '' I missed you '' He held her face between the hands, giving a loving and calm kiss, nothing much, while the redhead melted in a puddle

'' If Hermione realizes that I'm gone-- ''

'' --Ron is also here '' Harry lowered his hands to her waist, pulling her closer, while looking into her eyes, the emerald green looking much more beautiful live ''I hope I'm not disturbing anything '' Ginny she shrugged, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling pushed to sit on the edge of the table, which she did promptly

''I already said. I can waste half an hour with you ''

For you, I would cross the line I would waste my time

'' How are we with suitors? Too many letters? '' She let go, letting sarcasm drip into the sentence, trying hard not to look too crazy

'' Some, but I've made my choice. '' His strong, callused hands tightened on her skin, slowly pulling her shirt out of the skirt. And Ginny's chest widened, her heart beating fast and that jealousy burning inside her stomach like erupting lava.

"Hm. And who's the lucky one? '' She was happy with the effort she had made not to roll her eyes at the thought of a second Fleur - much more irritating and beautiful - beside him

'' You Gin '' Harry commented as if he said the sky is blue '' The last time I checked, I was still your boyfriend'' The man smiled a little hesitantly, raising an eyebrow and seeming to analyze it in the best way Auror possible ''Did you really think I would prefer someone else? '' She shrugged, feeling too unsure to speak. It was silly, wasn't it? There was Harry, her Harry.

''Just hormones '' Blame it on her cycle ''And the fact that you're gone for a week. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter” But that didn’t take his attention away, in fact, it only got worse

''Ginny .. I'm with you, and no matter what the fuck that rat writes, the only person who will '' take advantage of my body '' 'He rolled his eyes ''It's the lady here'' His finger lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him

'' I know, I don't know why to think about it '' Lied, pulling him closer and locking him between her legs ''How much time do we have? ''

'' Not much, unfortunately'' His hands went back to work on her waist, going up inside the shirt and touching her warm skin, causing goosebumps that made her crazy, just like anything else he did ''Sorry for the disappearance, we had some training problems'' He shrugged ''Someone fought with someone for making a comment about his girlfriend, I don't know'' Ginny laughed, holding her boyfriend's face in her hands and leaving her insecurities aside, happy that he was there

''You're crazy'' Harry kissed the tip of her nose, smiling affectionately

''They said something like that, along with, 'You lost your mind, Potter!' Not that I care, anyway. ''

I would lose my mind They say: She's gone too far this time

'' You look hot in that outfit .. I had some wet dreams about it, in my sixth year '' Harry kissed her cheek, down her jaw and disappearing into her neck, making her throw her head back and grunt a little while she carried her breasts forward, almost fainting at the touch.

Finally the buttons on the shirt were opened, leaving her creamy, freckled skin on display, and the purple bras she had bought just for a moment like this.

"Did you like it?" She bit the man's soft skin, moaning when the hand went down to her thigh and squeezed there, under her skirt and very close to her panties

''Damn. That memory will be my company on lonely nights.'' The girl laughed, lifting her chin and pulling him closer

'' I'm glad I'm still moving your head '' Harry rolled his eyes

'' You always move Gin, and please don't stop. '' The two of them kissed fervently this time. Her hand hunted the hem of that blue blouse, moving it out of the way quickly, being able to explore the new undulations of his body. It didn't take long before she had her skirts crammed around her waist and no bra and her shirt, moaning as she felt Harry's lips graze her skin, her hormones exploding in ecstasy with that attention, making her clit ache with lust.

'' Oh Harry .. oh '' She lost her strength when a hand touched her wet panties, caressing them lightly, in the way he knew was making her delirious.

A reminder that he still knew her tastes, her secrets, that he was still her

My name is whatever you decide And I'm just gonna call you mine

'' I dreamed of it every day, '' he whispered into her warm skin, pushing the soft fabric aside and opening it, as if looking for the way home on a well-known map. Ginny saw stars behind her eyelids when she finally got the attention she wanted, throwing her head back as she arched and straddled her boyfriend's hand, calling out his name as if it were her last prayer. "Fuck, Gin"

'' That's the idea '' Managed to gather enough strength to say, the lust of the forbidden to hit her hard

His fingers disappeared inside her, which for Harry was the most beautiful sight after his dick did that, and he couldn't stop the moan from coming out of his mouth, while kneeling in front of the table and rolling up the thighs of that libertine redhead, bringing her closer to the edge and smiling like a predator when he saw her so close, hot, wet, perfect.

'' OHMERLIM '' Ginny screamed as soon as she felt her hot lips around her most sensitive spot, trembling with the erupting heat that rose up her belly and hit her face, pressing her fingers into the wood for fear of collapsing. Harry's beard scraped deliciously on it, his fingers still doing a delicious job massaging that particular spot, and his lips being wonderful as always. It was surprising that she didn't come right away.

She loved him, Merlin help her, because Ginny was hopelessly in love with that man.

I'm insane, but I'm your baby Echoes of your name inside my mind

Harry smiled and moaned every time her strong thighs tightened, the fabric of her skirt kind of hiding him there, and it was like living an eternal teenage dream, with Ginny in her uniform moaning his name as he hid in her midst . When the redhead arched her back to the max, screaming and squeezing him as if she wanted to kill him right there, Potter almost came along, watching her wet his fingers and hand, running like a beautiful waterfall, making him feel triumphant for the feat.

He stood up, all pompous, sucking his fingers like he was one of HoneyDukes best sweets

"Hm .. even better than Molasses Pie" "He smiled devilishly, raising an eyebrow and winking cheeky at her" "Looks like someone missed me"

'' It's just because I have a high libido '' She shrugged, biting a smile and trying to look disinterested

'' I'm sure you did, Gin '' And he approached, holding his hands beside her and looking at her still hungry

'' Do you really like these clothes? '' Joked, holding the question of whether it was the clothes on her, or any other would do, too.

'' I like it, you look absurd wearing a skirt '' One arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, making his erection touch her '' You look beautiful in everything, actually, but something perverse in me always liked you like that ''

'' It's because it's forbidden '' His eyes got darker in those lights, shining with lust '' Inside the school, with a teacher nearby ... those things '' Harry nodded, biting her chin before speaking;

'' It may be, but only if you exist, it drives me crazy '' Ginny laughed, blushing at that declaration like a passionate fool, pulling his face so that the two looked at each other, and blaming her need for it

'' You leave me too. Just today, I wanted to hex some three people who wanted to send you letters with photos to get The Chosen One '' She revealed, perhaps because with Harry, these little secrets seemed too silly to be kept, perhaps because she just wanted to hear the confirmation that there was some Chosen, even if she is an idiot, would be her.

'' Well, they would all be heavily ignored '' His thumb caressed her creamy, freckled cheek, his green eyes staring at her as if unraveling all her secrets ''In case it's not clear yet, I'm kind of in love with you, to the point of getting into fights when someone talks shit about you, or faking a call by McGonagall, just to see you ... just to be clear ''

Halo, hiding my obsession I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy

'' It's just shit that went through my head. Rita should blow herself up '' Ginny felt too naked then, admitting her jealousy and being irrational, looking sideways as if looking for something to face

'' Should'' They were both silent ''Tucker commented on you romantic background and I attacked him so hard, I think his lineage is lost '' She managed to laugh a little, still a little shy and disconcerted, but at least looking on your face ''I don't want to hear someone say something about you and what you've done in the past. And if it's worth talking about, he definitely had a lot more than three boyfriends in his life, so I think it was a valid fight, even though some don't seem to agree.'' He also smiled, looking back at her as if he expected her confession. Harry would never pressure her to do anything, especially talking, no matter how hard he was and she was half naked in front of him. Ginny wanted to kiss him even more

'' Thank you, but I didn't have to defend myself ''

'' I know, but I wanted to '' shrugged '’I would do anything for you, Gin ''

'' Even burn pictures of tall, prettier women than Fleur?’' Harry laughed, giving his lips a long peck on her lips

'' I don't even have to think twice ... now, if you want to send me a picture '' Ginny tapped his shoulder, laughing and feeling relieved, as if she could breathe in peace

''As long as you don't run away anymore...'' He denied, kissing her tenderly, as if they had all the time in the world and it wasn't in a classroom that the two were about to have sex

"I would never survive without you"

And, baby, for you, I would fall from grace Just to touch your face If you walk away I'd beg you on my knees to stay

And then they kissed again, not seeming able to talk, especially when she opened his fly and held his hard cock, giving him the affection he deserved, while she heard him moan inside her mouth, seeming to be lost in the senses.

'' I need you, '' Harry whimpered, pulling her close again, dropping his pants and underwear as Ginny spread her legs wider, waiting for that glorious moment that would make her thank him for being alive.

The two of them moaned silently with every inch of Harry entering, she contracted with each little thrust just to see him throw his head and lock his teeth groaning, getting deeper and deeper until his pelvis touched.

It was majestic. The best moment.

'' My fingers don't get to the feet of this, '' She moaned, kissing his boyfriend so hard that they barely knew how not to get hurt. She sucked on his tongue and bit his bottom lip when thrust as formalized, at first slow, as if it were a preview of what was to come next

I get so high (oh) Every time you're, every time you're loving me You're loving me Trip of my life (oh) Every time you're, every time you're touching me

'' More '' Ginny sharpened her nails on her boyfriend's shoulders, losing consciousness whenever he rolled his hips and touched her in the right place, one hand still working in her midst, making her moan louder and louder

''Bloody hell, woman '' He increased the pace, pounding hard, taking them into that abyss where they both loved to be, kissing every part of her that he could find free; her creamy neck, her mouth, her cheeks, her breasts, any part was worth it.

They groaned together, trying to hold on to the rest of their strength to keep from giving in, trying their best to make it last a few more seconds, as if spending a few more months away was as terrifying as being sentenced to go to Askaban.

'' I don't ... ohh Harry, I need to ... '' Ginny barely knew how to finish her sentences

'' Come Gin, come for me '' He didn't need to speak twice, feeling that familiar tightness around him as the redhead seemed to want to drain him entirely, shouting his name and looking him in the eye as she broke up. Which made him go too, hitting her even harder as he came hard, grunting and clasping his hands on her ass, as if to keep her from moving away.

Ginny felt her chest ache with the sea of those feelings, thinking that there was, and never was, anyone who could do it as well as that man.

'' I love you '' he whispered, foreheads glued and eyes heavy, chest rising and falling hard

'' Me too '' She smiled, so beautiful he could come again '' How much time do we have? '' Looking at the watch on his wrist, he assessed the time he had made with Ron

''Half an hour''

"Time for one more, don't you think?" Harry felt hot, laughing at that hell beast he had beside him. Not that he ever complained. For her, he would easily die.

"Give me five minutes and I'm all yours"

'' You're getting better '' The brown eyes shone dark with desire

'' Training has helped me ... I have to spend that energy somewhere '' Ginny raised her eyebrow, looking at him a little menacingly

'' Keep spending it at the gym, thank you very much '' He laughed, amused by that jealousy, because for him, no woman made his heart beat so fast and his balls hurt as much as that angry, hard redhead in the fall. No, not even the most beautiful of Veela would make him so happy.

And as if confirming the thoughts that already came round, Harry knew that he wanted her for the rest of their lives.

I get so high (oh) Every time you're, every time you're loving me You're loving me Oh, Lord, save me, my drug is my baby I'll be using for the rest of my life

#hinny #hinny smut #smut #hinny fluff #hp #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #my fic #read-a-hinny-fic

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caffeinatedrogue · 3 years

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💖🍒🧡😊⭐️ for whomever you want!

keeping it up for rat boi -skipping the ones I’ve answered or got asked in another ask so the post is shorter :3

🍒 What kind of things do they expect from their relationships? Does this differ between platonic relationships and romantic ones? Is your OC “demanding” or a door mat? What kinds of things do people expect from them in a relationship? I don't think he expects anything really besides...the basic human decency stuff? And honesty? And same way around, he's a bit uneasy when something starts out with some kind of specific expectation because ??? I am literally a random ass dude with 10 eddies in change to my name what do you expect? I think the main difference here is that past Vincent really needed a person to lean on for his emotional needs and overall stability, while 2k77 Vincent is way more...self-sufficient, albeit not in a fully functional way because it comes from trauma - he doesn't want to burden people cause he feels like it is just too much, while still really needing that emotional outlet. I like the dynamic between him and Kerry because in him V finds a person that, like himself, desperately needs to be taken care of but is equally eager to love and take care of another person. They are both damaged but it's healthy because there's no concealing that damage, cause they meet when they're both at rock bottom, they just get each other deeply from the start and get to know each other's darkest corners. And while they are both emotionally demanding in their own way, they sort of complement each other well. Now, if he's a doormat...would he dance the entire coreopgraphy of ‘Baby One More Time’ through downtown, naked, if Kerry asked? Probably. But only if Kerry donned a latex red onesie and did 'Oops I did it again' for him in the living room.

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!). Who does your OC absolutely hate, the one person who they’d sell to Satan for one corn chip? Why do they loathe this person so? I don't think he could ever pick a fave, tbh. He just doesn't see relationships like that. There are different types of love but it can't be quantified or measured, in his mind. And V. doesn't do celebs, except when he... does. *wink wink* (Ker. Of course his fav person is Ker. His brain says no but his heart says yes) Anddd Raffen Shivs. just pick one at random, it's the same. They have killed people he loved, and he is very, very happy to return the favor. I literally play him as using a non-lethal approach when it is reasonable to do so, but not with Wraiths, he's snapping necks and shooting them dead period. And he would have found a way to get back at Dex, too, if not for Jackie for the bullet in the brain, but Takemura relieved him of the burden, so he'll just spit on his rotting corpse really

💛 In general, how in control of their emotions is your OC? Do they have a good hold on them or do their emotions control them, not the other way around? What do you think is the reason behind this and is your OC ever concerned about their lack of or good control? In short, no. Like, he is not really in control of his emotions. He can switch on the cold blood trigger when he's working to some degree, but the things he has to live through absolutely wreck him inside, he is unable to compartmentalize and he does some very reckless shit or makes decisions he later regrets because of that. Especially if his friends are involved, sometimes he's...not really thinking. This trait of him comes from the fact that he was my first pt and I was playing blindly and feeling all the range of emotions 100x, but then it stuck and became part of the characterization. Also I feel like the 'wrecked by mood swings and permeable to emotions' trait is the one thing about me that seeped into his characterization as it often happens with ocs

😊 What can make your OC smile even when they’re feeling down? What cheers them up and makes everything feel better for them? Is your OC genrally a happy person and do they enjoy making others smile? What about your OC makes others happy? It's a bit hard to get him out of his dark moods, especially because he tends to isolate himself when he’s feeling like that. Getting a silly text from a pal always makes him smile, tho, because it makes him feel <3 loved <3. He is very much not a happy person - he's always had quite a lot of restlessness about him, even before Night City.But he's always loved making people smile, he's got that Absolute Dumbass trait, it's both a way to deflect and a way to feel better by making others feel better. & I think people just appreciate how understanding and caring he is in his relationships, he's just a great friend to have - & all the times you'd have to go pick him up cause he's ended up drunk and high out of his mind in the middle of nowhere are easily forgiven

#v for vincent #ask game #cp77 #cyberpunk 2077 #thanks for asking #<3 #commander-krios

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spookyheaad · 3 years

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My headcanon version of Tesoro (with my “Stella survived too” AU) [this is literally the tip of the iceberg I have so much more for both Tesoro and Stella]:

(Some of these are just really goofy and fun, let me live)

Bad Mental health issues because of his traumatic past, but is getting help

hates Celestial Dragons

Stella is not dead and they’re engaged

misses Stella when she leaves the room & is gone for more than 2 minutes

Still runs Gran Tesoro but, like a normal fucking person

Laughs at the dumbest shit

Stops to take pictures/sign autographs with fans. Likes to talk with them.

He & Carina sit & watch stupid tiktoks at the after parties. Doesn’t mind when some of the band/stage crew come over to see the video too, or sit by them to chat.

Actually likes to be surrounded by laughter, no matter the circumstance. It makes him happy in return.

Will literally sometimes fall on the floor from laughing so hard

This specific video he will quote until the end of time:

All someone has to say is “lizard bitch” and he starts cackling

Actually likes to chill with the workers on Gran Tesoro/make idle conversation/stop by and say hello. Pays all of them handsomely for their work.

He and the whole Tesoro Band are a bunch of fucking music nerds.

Will have in-depth debates with one another about band’s/musical artist’s discographies and what their best song/album is.

On that note, yes, I believe that Tesoro has very eclectic music tastes; it’s just that he’s not entirely vocal about it. I think he listens to a little bit of everything; he just has to find something that catches his ear; whether it be in vocal prowess, musicality, or even instrumental technicality. I just find it hard to believe that a man like him would only listen to one genre and nothing else. He obviously performs a certain kind of genre and style, but personally enjoys much more than that!

His music taste ranges from Andrew Bird, Frank Sinatra, the Rat Pack, to Gorillaz, Wu-Tang Clan, Beastie Boys, Arctic Monkeys, Paramore, Tame Impala, Prince, all the way down to Cannibal Corpse, Meshuggah, Draconian, Ghost, Septicflesh, etc. Man’s got variation in his music player.

Sings or hums (and sometimes dances) when he is alone/doing a menial task like cooking, cleaning, folding clothes etc. Stella usually sneakily catches it on video & sends it to Carina, Baccarat, Dice, & Tanaka with the quote: “This is your boss, guys 🤣”

Tesoro: “Hey you know how gold is malleable? Do you think if I punch this wall with my bare hand it’ll bend? Should I try it?” (Literally forgot that all the structures are gilded and are, in fact, not made entirely out of gold)

He & Stella both are very silly and lax around one another. They had to grow up quickly and had bad childhoods, so now they can be goofs with one another.

Gets genuinely MORTIFIED when Stella calls him by his first name. Usually only does so when she’s angry with him, which is very very rare.

Genuinely loves what he does and beams with happiness and pride from knowing that he makes people smile, and is able to live his dream with the woman he fell in love with.

#writing this gave me serotonin #basically what I’m trying to say is he’s cool and loves his fiancé #also he’s a himbo an absolute god tier himbo #can’t believe I see this fictional man smile and my ass starts crying hello #I genuinely think that if Tesoro never became a villain he would just radiate vibes #like he’d just wanna chill out and watch stupid videos cuddle with Stella and maybe pay his taxes or some shit idk #headcanons #one piece #anime #manga #one piece anime #one piece manga #one piece film gold #gild tesoro #Stella (One Piece)

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beerecordings · 4 years

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hey!!! i'd love to see more with the favored puppet au, that's always been one of my favorite concepts. maybe at a point where chase feels apathy in the face of anti, his caretaker, being a bad person? or something from before, when anti decided chase was worrying him and he didn't want to play the games anymore? :'D ty ty

Favored Puppet AU (Chase): After stalking, haunting, and toying with Chase for years, Anti eventually realized it was no longer fun to play with him while his suffering was so high. Instead, Anti kidnapped Chase and keeps him away from the world as its companion. Chase has learned to be alright with that. The human world, after all, was never very kind to him.

Triggers for heavy discussions of Chase’s past suicide attempts and depression and Chase trying to cut himself again, though he doesn’t succeed. Also might be considered soft!Anti, though Chase is the only one it’s soft for.

Florence I decided to combine that first prompt (Chase feeling apathy when Anti’s being awful) with another prompt so you will see that later! for this one I decided to do that moment where Anti decided he didn’t want to play games anymore. thank you for sending them my dude!! also this is my first time writing for this au so the mythology is really experimental but I just tried to do something new with Anti :) it’s very inhuman and doesn’t really understand Chase, but it decides it wants him, so...

It sits on top of his refrigerator and watches him have his first meal of the day, a depression snack at nine at night compromised almost entirely of the last crumbs in an old bag of Cheetos. The skinny little human creature – though Anti’s seen him staring at his shirtless torso in the mirror enough times to know he’s only growing more dissatisfied with his softening stomach and arms – throws his head back and dumps the rest of the crisps into his mouth, getting orange dust all over his unkempt beard. Anti giggles at the sight of him. Clown boy with his Cheeto dust and the bags under his eyes. Little human thing. Too small and silly even to be able to die. Goofy, stupid human. Slouching, miserable child.

But if there is one thing Anti enjoys about the human, it is his fierce, hateful courage. At first, the laughter in the edges of his hearing sent chills up the boy’s spine and made him turn around with wild eyes, spitting and gnashing his blunt mortal teeth, but now, after months of being haunted, he does nothing except turn around and glare.

Anti is invisible on his refrigerator, but the human – what is his name? Charles, Casey, something – he still tries to find it. He has eyes made to burn, blue as flame, though, to be perfectly fair, fire can be as much a source of life as the bitter weapon Casey makes with his gaze now.

He used to be warm. Anti remembers. He would stutter when the girl came to see him and he carried those little chips with him, rubbing them in his pocket when he passed the liquor store, and his children were all he thought about. But he’s changed. Anti watched it happen. For whatever reason, the girl stopped bringing the children by at all, and at some point the pain of it must have overwhelmed the man, and Anti watched him embrace old habits with a ferocity only describable as self-harm. After his second suicide attempt – that was the only time Anti let Casey see it, standing over him and staring at the crimson of his blood in the bathtub while the man screamed for it to kill him already, shrieking in despair as Anti picked up his phone from the bathroom counter and dialed 911, giggling at the thought of just how powerful his despair would be when he woke up in the hospital – he removed his children from the background of that phone and replaced it with a stock image of the ocean provided to him by Apple’s recommendation.

The light slid out of his eyes at some point. Anti was there. It watched the whole thing.

It enjoyed the whole thing. Mostly.

“Fucking kill me, then, bitch,” hisses Casey, slinking through his own kitchen like he’s being hunted. He is. “Playing games with me, always, well, I’m tired of playing, you know that, I’m tired… fucking kill me then, not afraid of you, not afraid…”

This is also true. Anti’s pretty sure the only reason he moved back to America was to make sure none of his friends would be in the way of the creature who haunts him finally finishing the job. And to stop them from telling him “you need to get help, you’re talking to the voices in your head and seeing things, it’s not real, you need to see a specialist” in an endless carousel of concern and – as Casey always perceived it – condescension.

“Fucking kill me!” he screams, slamming his hand down on his counter. He shatters a pile of unwashed dishes on accident and blood comes pooling up hot and coppery in the lines of his palm, but Casey doesn’t even look down, doesn’t even flinch, just keeps staring straight forward with fire eyes as wild as a horse’s.

But Anti’s bored with him. It hops down from the fridge and wanders through the apartment, whistling. In the kitchen, it hears the man howling as the whistling returns to torment him, the monster’s singing following him for hours and hours every day, never letting him sleep.

Anti used to think it was really funny, that something as simple as a whistled lullaby could make the man shatter in half and sob like his heart was broken open in his hands.

But honestly?

It’s less fun these days.

“Music, music, music,” rants the human in the kitchen, slamming his palm down again and again, cutting open his palm again, again. There’s banging on the walls and muffled yelling. The neighbors are sick of his screaming. He’ll be evicted soon, Anti reckons. Humans used to travel in packs, making it harder to pick them off, but these days ones like Casey often find themselves alone, and no one is around to stand up for him. “I’ll make you stop, I’ll make you shut up, shut up, shut up….”

Anti lets the human sprint past it and retreat to his bedroom, crawling under the bed and taking his laptop with him. He puts on big earphones and presses them hard against his ears, and he rocks himself as his music plays, turned up to one hundred on his computer, mumbling to himself, laughing sometimes, if Anti listens closely enough.

Anti crouches down to look at him. It hums to itself and touches Casey’s face, and he shrivels in on himself and whimpers, but he does not fight or push it away. Not anymore.

He used to be so much more fun before he started to crumble instead of break.

And yet, Anti has not killed him.

It does not know why.

---------------------

When bored – these days, it often is – Anti likes to wander through the other apartments that surround its own. Watching the human sleep can only be entertaining for so long, even if it does like to hear his sleepy, thick breathing and see his peaceful, dopey face, and it’s nice to just roam sometimes. Anyway, the people nearby can be interesting, though Anti doesn’t mess with them the way it does Casey. No one else has ever been that entertaining.

A young couple lives to their right, newly-married with a little rat of a dog they call Barkley. Anti’s human likes most dogs, but he grew tired a long time ago of the shrieking yips through the walls. Anti itself doesn’t mind it so much. One more thing to annoy the human on his slow road to madness.

“Who’s the best boy in the world?”

It passes by their door and hears them cooing and praising the yelping thing. “Are you a good boy, Barkley? Who’s my good little boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”

Barkley has been sick for a few days and their fussing over him has been endless as they clean the nasty little animal up after every time it vomits, carefully feeding it vet-recommended dog food and plenty of healthy human snacks whenever Barkley shows an interest. How anyone could care to look after a creature so pathetic and useless is well beyond Anti, but it thinks it’s funny, really. Humans will bow down to pet the lowest of creatures.

I am not like that, it thinks to itself, drifting through the door, invisible. It is important for me to not be like that.

Anti had never had an interest in pets before this year, but, increasingly, it likes to come over and watch them look after Barkley. Constantly it reminds itself – I am not like that. It is important for me to not be like that.

But it doesn’t understand why this is important or why it should not be like that. Truthfully, it has never been skilled with its own emotions. It does as it pleases and what makes it happy makes it happy. If there is depth to that, it isn’t interested.

“Okay, Barkley baby, mommy and daddy are going to go for a walk and be right back in a few.”

“Aww, poor baby, we know. You wanna come on our walk and see all the other puppies along the way, but you can’t go while your belly’s all grumpy!”

“Yeah, little Barkley can’t come today, but mommy and daddy will be right back.”

“Mommy and daddy will be right back, we promise.”

They shower the dog in pets and belly rubs as they baby-talk their way towards the door, blowing it kisses as they head out and lock the door behind them.

“Do you think we should check on this guy here who’s so loud sometime?”

“What, that Chase guy? Are you kidding me? What a creep. He’s so fucking loud. We’re going to have to complain to the landlord again. Guy’s out of his mind.”

Ah, yes, Chase, that’s his name. Slipping into their apartment like a ghost, Anti laughs at the human fickleness and leans down to tweak the little dog’s tail, making it yelp in alarm and start running in circles around the apartment. It giggles and spends some time chasing it and leading it around with its chew toys and such. It likes the way it can make the dog do anything. It likes the cute little dog even if it is such a disgusting, purposeless, stupid little animal. It coos and picks the puppy up, tickling its skinny little ribs and rubbing between its ears.

“Stupid puppy,” it manages to say, in its painful, broken voice. Human language has always been difficult for it, but it prides itself on understanding it well. One day maybe it will speak it clearly too, though for now it knows it would sound like a struggling, glitching machine to a real human. “Stupid baby doggy.”

Faint laughter reaches its sharp ears and it quiets, setting the dog back down. For a moment, only silence, and it crouches in the living room with its black eyes boring into the universe, motionless.

Then it hears raucous laughter as the window in the back of the apartment is pried open and a pair of much, much more pathetic creatures than itself or even this little dog crash their way into the couple’s home. It straightens up, shaking its head, and heads back towards the back room, where a baby’s nursery is beginning to develop. Above the cradle, a pair of imps stop short, staring at Anti as they hover, startled, in mid-air.

Wearing its human’s form, it puts its hands on its hips and waits for them to speak.

They begin to laugh again, loud and boisterous, spit flying out of the one’s mouth while the second’s eyes bulge with hilarity.

“A fairy in California?” The imp rolls in circles in the air, shrieking with laughter. “Who would have thought?”

“Little far from home, Mr. Potatohead,” quips the second, floating up to the ceiling, sneering and sticking out its little purple tongue. Anti’s mouth curls distastefully. “Why don’t you go back to your hunts and your parades, your highness?”

“How’d it get here without getting stuck behind all that running water?”

“Careful, pure-blood, this spoon looks like it might be made out of iron!”

They dissolve into maniacal impling laughter, rocking through the air, shape-shifting in the limited ways they can to make themselves look uglier. If it were the sort of fairy who gave a fuck, Anti supposes it would feel disrespected, but it doesn’t much care. They’re little annoyances who have clearly mistaken it for a much less powerful creature than it really is. They break the monotony for a moment. It’ll kill them in a second. Anti supposes they just came here to make trouble. Imps love break into human homes and stealing their food or making their milk go rotten. They may well have been the ones who made Barkley sick, just to watch the humans take care of the dumb little thing for their entertainment. They’re common in this part of the city because the mountains are close, and imps are snuffling, stupid little creatures of the earth.

“Ew, what’s that?” squawks the first imp, floating closer to it. “Do you smell it?”

“Yuck. His majesty stinks like a human.”

“Just like a fairy to keep a pet.”

“Aw, do you have a widdle human to look after?”

“Maybe we should pay a visit to your stinky little human.”

“Yeah, maybe it needs some company.”

“Some friends.”

“Someone to play a couple fun games with.”

“And then we can find out what it is that made Tinkerbell here go all soft in the middle, like a rotten – ”

But they never get to find out exactly what rotted thing Anti resembles. It snatches the imp out of the air in one snapping motion like the bite of a snake and crushes its body between its fingers, its eyes turning black as the juices run down its wrist.

In its fear, the other imp does not even scream. Its eyes bulge in alarm and it scrambles for the window, but it never makes it. Barkley yelps in victory, chasing his own tail around as Anti’s teeth come down around the meaty little imp and tear it to pieces, silencing the both of the little monsters, leaving nothing behind.

It’ll be picking that out of its teeth for a week, it muses, wandering back out of the apartment and towards its own. But that’s what they get for talking about Chase like that.

It’s odd, though, how it makes it pause and think. That is something other spirits do sometimes, isn’t it? Take a human and keep it as a pet.

The couple with the dog are returning from their walk, holding slushies and each other’s hands.

“Barkley!” they coo, greeting their excited dog at the door. “Are you a good boy? Oh, why are you shaking, baby boy? What a silly little puppy you are. Who’s a cutie? Are you a good boy? You just want a big hug, huh, you just want to be looked after. Mwah, mwah.”

It’s kind of a cute dog, in the end.

--------------------

It liked the way Chase looked up at it, that one day it allowed him to see it.

It liked the way his eyes changed. He was not afraid – Chase is a creature of courage and despair, and these, in Anti’s experience, are both flowers from the same root – but he was distressed. Anti would say that this was because the form he takes is such a disturbingly odd impression of a human that it scared the human, but, truthfully, he thinks he saw a sort of awe in Chase’s eyes that day as well.

He loves fiction. This is one thing it learned about Chase early on. He does not have a reputation for intelligence but he does love his fantasy escapism, or he did back when he still had the energy for things like interests and hobbies. He liked Gravity Falls and Doctor Who and anything with sci-fi or dragons and he would get stuck at bookstores every now and then just walking through the YA section and wishing he was still young enough to enjoy them as much as he used to. In the old days, human storytellers were vital parts of their social structure. Anti thinks Chase would have been a storyteller, in his own way, if this were a few hundred years ago. Maybe he would be happier then.

It does not know when it began wondering about Chase’s happiness. Do not ask it.

The point is that Anti liked the way Chase looked up at it, that one day it allowed him to see it, that day he tried to kill himself.

“No,” he shook his head as Anti took his phone and called for an ambulance. “No.”

But his eyes were looking at something beyond life and death, something he had only read about in books, and Anti did not understand it.

It thinks, now, that Chase was looking at something he had longed for when he was younger. But Anti does not know what. There are fairytales about prophetic heroes and novels about chosen ones and tv shows where fantastical creatures whisk people away on great adventures, but Anti is not a fantasy. Anti is a nightmare. This is something Chase has always known, and Anti has always known, and there should be no misunderstanding between them.

But it liked the way Chase looked at him, that one time it allowed him to see it. That’s all. That’s all it’s saying. It doesn’t mean anything. It is not like that. It’s important that it’s not like that.

Anti touches the human’s face. He has fallen asleep beneath his bed, and his breathing is clear and deep, rhythmic as the song of a bird.

----------------------

Chase sleeps for fourteen hours and then gets up to make a Cup-o’-Noodles. Beef flavored. It’s the only thing left in the pantry except half a jar of strawberry jam and some milk he was too drunk to put in the fridge a couple days ago, spoiled completely by now. Even the cheap rum he’s been buying is out on the table beside the stove. He hasn’t bothered to get dressed and he cuts a pathetically small figure standing over the stove in nothing but some gym shorts and rolled-up Christmas socks because everything else needs to be washed.

Anti roams the apartment, humming distantly and checking up on things. It deletes an unread message on Chase’s phone from contact name “Marv” and waters the succulent Chase picked up on an impulse last week. It’s so funny to it how attached the human can get to things, and so quick too. He once found a bee on the windowsill, brought it sugar water, and looked after it for several hours before letting it outside. The human put on his loudest comedy show afterwards to try and keep himself cheerful, but he’d ended up crying about halfway through, and Anti couldn’t tell if it was related to the bee or not. He’s always crying. He didn’t always used to be crying. He used to be less deep in his despair and much more fun to play with.

Anti shakes the thoughts off and decides to prove that Chase is still fun to play games with. There’s nothing deep about their relationship, Chase just happens to be entertaining. That’s the only reason it followed him all the way from Ireland. It floats towards the kitchen, silent and invisible. It’ll give him a quick scare, not enough to put him off his dinner, just enough to remind him he should still be fighting. Anti shape-shifts cleanly into a small boy with black hair and deep onyx eyes and goes to stand behind Chase, silent and still, staring up at the child’s father as he stirs the noodles in silence.

“I know you’re behind me,” he says after a moment. “Looking like Hunter.”

Anti startles and shivers back into invisibility, drawing away. Chase turns blearily to see that it’s gone and he laughs, deep and hollow.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, stumbling a little as he tilts back his rum. Anti knows he’s already drunk from the calmness in his tired voice. “Used to your tricks by now. You been getting to know me, I know. I been getting to know you too.”

He snorts to himself and leans back against the stove, seeming to forget his noodles. He squints blearily around the room, rubbing at his eyes. He hasn’t put his contacts in since the last time he tried to kill himself. Wanted to make sure he cut the veins, but after he survived that night, it didn’t much matter if he could see or not.

“I think I can sort of tell when you’re close, most of the time,” he adds. Anti sits at the dining table across the room, frowning. “Like… I can feel you. Or something. See you, maybe. I think you make things… a different color. Does that make sense?”

He points sluggishly towards the dining table and then shrugs, letting his hand drop again.

“Doesn’t matter, I guess.”

His pot is boiling over. The water will burn his hands in a moment, resting as they are against the edge of the stove. Chase laughs to himself again, shaking his head, and throws back the rum for so long that he’s panting when he’s done with the drink.

“Funny,” he says. “Would have almost liked for you to be there. As Hunter, I mean. See my baby one more time. My baby. Hunter, my son…”

His eyes trail far away. Anti doesn’t think he’s looking at anything at all. There’s nothing left for him to look at.

Water cascades across the stove, boiling. Chase whimpers as it hits his hands, but he doesn’t pull away.

Something yanks him back.

He stumbles away from the stovetop. Drunk, he can’t keep his balance, and he goes crashing to the ground, falling on his back and dropping his bottle, which shatters into pieces of glass and a small flood of rum across the kitchen floor. Chase gasps, grabbing at his bruised elbow, staring around for a sight of the monster that has haunted him for so long.

The pot of noodles goes spinning off its stovetop onto the other side of the stove and stops boiling after a moment, quieting the kitchen. The knob on the oven flicks to ‘off’ and the red light disappears from the stovetop, leaving it dark and silent.

Chase closes his eyes.

Anti stares at him and it knows, in the moment, that the human was not lying.

He can sense it.

He can tell it’s there.

“Why,” croaks Chase. “Did you call 911 that night?”

Anti steps back from him. His movement shifts glass on the floor with a faint clinking noise.

“Was this what you wanted?” Chase whispers. “Just to see me live like this a little while longer? Just to make sure I couldn’t get away that easy? Was killing myself too good for you? Are you ever going to actually finish me off?”

He is crying. He is always crying.

This isn’t fun anymore, Anti realizes. It isn’t funny.

And honestly –

Honestly…

Honestly, it doesn’t know why it called 911.

“I think that’s what I’ve actually been waiting for,” laughs Chase, sobbing as tears run down his reddened cheeks. “Fuck. Not even staying alive waiting for it, that’s not what I mean, I mean… like I haven’t killed myself because I’ve been waiting for you to do it.”

He throws his head back and cries and laughs and hugs himself with his burned hands and scarred wrists, his whole body shuddering with the tears.

“But you won’t,” he sobs into the darkness, as Anti’s presence draws away from him and the sun fades. “You won’t. Will you? No one will give me any mercy. No one wants me to have any fucking peace. So tired… You won’t��”

Anti retreats to his room.

It doesn’t want to face him right now.

He doesn’t want to face him right now.

Chase cries in the kitchen for a long time, until his whole body feels tired and numb and drained. He doesn’t clean up the glass. He doesn’t clean up the rum. He doesn’t clean up the water. He would probably have slept right there on the wooden floor of his kitchen, but the doorbell rings.

Too drunk to put himself together, he staggers to the door and throws it open to the cold, red-eyed and stumbling like a zombie.

“Uh,” says the delivery kid, fixing her alarmed expression after a moment. “Here’s your food, sir.”

Chase is too confused even to question. Almost dazed by it, he takes the bag of take-out carefully from her hands, thanks her in a mumble, and shuts the door behind him.

KFC.

Did he order this?

No, he was making ramen before he made a mess of it. But it’s what he always gets. Chicken tenders and mashed potatoes and a couple extra biscuits for the next morning.

In his bedroom, Anti closes out of the delivery app and drops his phone onto the bed, deleting one more message from Marv before it drifts past Chase and goes wandering, thinking, roaming, lost.

It’s not like that… it’s important that it’s not. It’s not like that.

Zayn and Mary are walking Barkley. Anti watches the happy little dog go yipping and dancing in the space between them, happy and safe and recovering, cared for by his masters.

-------------------

The apartment fills with soft light in the evenings. White and gold from the weary sun. When it hits the horizon, the gold pirouettes and falls apart into a dozen different watercolors across the long shoulders of the sky. Pouring patiently through the windows, like syrup from the bark of a great dark tree.

Anti sits beside Chase’s bed and watches him sleep, playing slowly with his hair.

It likes Chase’s hair. It always has. Soft and dark but sometimes golden in the sunlight, and ever-so-slightly curly, so you can wrap it around your finger if you’re gentle, and make it spring back again afterwards.

Anti wants to kill something. It doesn’t know what. A human, probably, but not Chase. Chase, Chase, Chase. It had forgotten how much it likes that name.

You like a lot of things about him, it lets itself realize. When did that happen? When the fuck did that happen? One day you’re making him having a repeated dream where he’s carefully cut into pieces and eaten alive by a sentient crocodile because he always got scared of the one in Peter Pan when he was a child and the next you’re thinking about how soft his hair is. It makes Anti laugh, for a moment, but it thinks it feels… sad. It doesn’t know why.

Chase wakes up and it drifts back into invisibility, leaving him to sit up and look around. Check his phone for the time and stare at the floor for a while. Today he is groggy, but not sad, which strikes Anti as odd. Most days he is groggy and sad. Sad groggy stupid human. Anti’s sad groggy stupid hurting human. It sighs and spins lazily in the air, watching Chase push himself up on his feet, his eyes dead and weary.

Someone slams on their door and Chase groans, rubbing at his forehead. He’s hungover again.

“Brody!” The slamming insists. Chase stutters out a breath, slightly frightened, and totters to the door, pulling it open.

It’s his landlord. Anti’s lips curl up in a snarl. A mean, stupid man, stupider than Chase, even, and he looks angry.

And he starts to shout at Chase, and Anti does not like it. It doesn’t interfere, but it doesn’t like it either, and it knows Chase will do nothing. He stands there shirtless in his Christmas socks and stares at his landlord like he can’t believe any of this is real – not because it’s rare for him to be in trouble, just because his life is an alley puddle full of cigarettes and bathing rats and he’s most likely dissociating – and just nods when he’s told to get his act together and pipe the fuck down before he gets kicked out.

“Yes,” says Chase. “Okay.”

The landlord leaves.

Chase shuts the door behind him and looks directly at Anti, invisible on the ceiling above him.

“Jokes on him,” he says dully. “He’ll have to be the one to clean my blood out of the bathtub.”

Anti blinks. Chase pauses, letting his head rest against the cool wall for a moment before he pushes himself back up and wanders back towards his bedroom.

“What you will do?” asks Anti.

Chase startles so hard he slams into the wall of the hallway, whirling around to look at him. Unnerved by his response, Anti scowls and backs away again.

“Sorry, did you just talk to me?” asks Chase. “It’s a dream, then? Or did you talk to me in real life? Or am I really losing it finally? I mean, worse than I have already.”

Anti grumbles to itself and gets up in the fan, making the blades spin slowly, sulking. Can’t even talk to the human without him freaking out.

“Must still be drunk,” mumbles Chase, retreating back to his room.

Anti gets up and follows him.

“What, are you worried?” snaps Chase, digging under the bed, and Anti grins at the heat he’s showing again. That’s more like it. “Haunt me for, what, eight months and now you’re worried? I know you’re there, asshole.”

Anti lets him hear it giggling. Chase rolls his eyes and then he gives a short laugh, shaking his head.

Anti feels pleased, it thinks. Chase turns to look at him. He can’t see him, but he knows it’s there. Anti likes that.

“You really are a monster,” says Chase softly, smiling at it.

And then Anti sees, in his hand, the little tin where he keeps his razor blades.

Anti’s mouth falls in a frown.

Chase looks up into the sunset. Orange and gold, tonight. Flowing over his hair and into his eyes, making them alight. Fire eyes. Fire Chase.

“I hated you for a long time,” says Chase. “But you’re either a monster or the part of my brain that really wants to hurt me, so I guess either way I shouldn’t blame you for being what you are.”

He stands up, straighter than he has in a long time, still fixated on that sunset.

“I… I’ll miss…”

Anti stares at him, waiting, but Chase never finishes his sentence. After a long moment, he turns and takes his phone off of his bed. A slow, shaky breath escapes him.

He always takes his calls between the hallway and the living room so he can pace. Anti knows. Anti knows everything about him. Anti knows things about him he doesn’t know about himself. Anti likes things about him he doesn’t like about himself.

The human steps into the hallway and opens his contacts, carefully picking a name he hasn’t picked in long months, and he closes his eyes, and he waits.

But no one answers. Chase lets out a soft, miserable laugh, gripping the phone in both hands.

“Ah, damn… ha. Sorry, Schneep, I was really hoping you’d pick up.”

He circles quietly in the hallway, running his hands through his hair, his eyes closed and that phone held up to his ear, trying to breathe even instead of weeping.

“Look, man, um. I know we fell apart. Honestly, I really needed you, and you were just too busy for me, and that stung, it did. Maybe it was selfish, but I just… I needed you, Schneep. And I felt like all you cared about was the research, and…”

He rubs his face, brushing away tears. Anti stands at the end of the hall, staring.

“Well, I didn’t call you to accuse you of anything. I just wanted you to know that, um, even though we both hurt each other… I always loved you, man. And I don’t got the courage to call Jacks or Marv, okay, but I love them too. I love them too. And I’m sorry. Cause I was a coward for running away from them, and… maybe you needed me even more than I needed you, and I couldn’t even see it. So I just want you to know: you were my best friend. And I’m really sorry I couldn’t pull you out of your head and that I couldn’t help, or didn’t try hard enough, or just that I wasn’t what you needed. And I…”

Anti sees Chase close his eyes and breathe.

“And I hope I’m not one more person you spend the rest of your life wishing you could have saved,” he whispers. “It’s not your fault, Henrik. I love you. Good night, buddy. Maybe someday – ”

The voicemail beeps. End of recording.

Chase lets out a hurting breath and sets his phone down. His eyes are fixed on the rising sunlit moon, past his window.

“Maybe someday I’ll see you again,” he says.

He goes into the bathroom and crawls into the tub.

And Anti – Anti is paralyzed in the hallway, staring at him, invisible.

But Chase can sense it. Chase can sense him. He looks back at him, his face – fuck, so familiar now, like Anti knows every line of it, every shadow – and says nothing.

Something in Anti cries out against it.

Don’t let him do this. Don’t let him do this.

But another part – oh, another part recognizes what has happened. It has grown attached to this human despite all odds, despite everything. And attachments are dangerous and stupid and useless, just like this little mortal curled up in his white bathtub, holding a razor, staring at it. This is Anti’s chance to let Chase break the attachment. This is its chance to stop this before it goes too far. Before it actually does decide that it likes Chase, that it wants him, that it should keep him, that he loves him in his own fucked-up way.

So it steps back.

It won’t stop Chase.

Let him go. Let him go. It’s better this way. He was just supposed to be entertainment. There was never supposed to be an attachment. So now Chase can die and Anti can leave and they can go their separate ways, and everything in Anti’s life will return to normal. It will go back to Ireland and find something new to do, someone new to torment. And everything will be okay.

It doesn’t stop Chase.

But Chase –

Chase –

“No,” he whispers to himself, gripping the blade. “Please.”

Chase can’t bring himself to do it.

“No!” he screams, lashing himself once, but it hurts and he hates it and he wants it to stop and it’s not like the other times he’s tried to kill himself, not at all. There’s no numbness. There’s no comfort.

He doesn’t want to die.

“Please!” he howls, gripping his own wrists. “Please!”

He’s begging himself. End it. Finish it. Stop it, let me go.

He’s begging the universe. No more. No more, please.

He’s begging Anti.

He’s begging Anti with everything he has.

He turns his eyes to it and he’s screaming, and there’s blood on his wrists, and the glowing moon is like the eye of a god staring down at them, and Anti is illuminated in its light, visible in the shape of a man, visible in a shape like Chase’s, and Chase is begging him –

“Don’t make me live like this any longer!”

Anti turns and flees.

Chase is howling like a shot dog, holding his own shoulders, unable to kill himself, because he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want Henrik to get that voicemail, he doesn’t want to never see the sun again, he doesn’t want to go, he isn’t ready, but he can’t live like this any longer, and he’s never felt more hopeless in his life, and he still doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die.

Don’t make me live like this any longer.

Why can’t he end it?

He’s so drunk and so tired and he thought he wanted to die, he really thought he did. No, no, not… oh, he needs somebody, he needs something, he needs something to change. Henrik. He wants Henrik, wants Jackie, wants Marv. He’s staggering to his feet, trying to get up, trying to get back to his phone –

He slips in his Christmas socks and in his own blood, and he crashes down hard in his bathtub, and lies still.

------------------

“Oh, no, oh, fuck,” Anti hears him whimpering as he comes awake. “How much did I fucking have? Stupid, stupid…”

It stands in the hallway, pacing, its eyes set on the ground. It is determined now. It has decided.

“Oh, shit! Oh.” There’s a nervous laugh from Chase as he notices the shallow cut on his arm. “Oh, wow, I… I must have tried to… but I didn’t! I didn’t, wow…”

There’s an awe in his voice that hasn’t been there for a long time.

Is it… pride?

“I didn’t kill myself,” Anti hears him whispering. “I didn’t… didn’t kill myself. Or I just passed out before I could, but either way, pretty impressive for a fucking idiot like me.”

Anti retreats back to his room and begins to pack the human’s things up, taking only what’s immediately necessary. It doesn’t care about the personal effects, but there are some things they will need – some clothes, his hygiene products, shoes, medicine. He places the succulent gently on top and zips it into place as an added present.

It can hear Chase wandering around the house, apparently dazed by his own survival, or maybe just still drunk from the night before. Anti shuts his phone down remotely and doesn’t let it turn back on when Chase scrabbles at the power button, mumbling about his friends back in England. Anti doesn’t know where the sudden interest in them after months of deleting pictures and ignoring calls has come from, but it doesn’t care.

Here are the facts, in its mind:

Chase survived last night.

It has grown attached to him.

Because he did not kill himself, it can’t escape the fact that it’s grown… fond of the human.

The human survived one night, but Anti has watched him through a great deal of ups and downs, and it knows that Chase will be suicidal again soon enough, and then he might not survive.

Anti does not want to watch him die.

And so the conclusion it came to last night, watching over the boy as he lay in that tub, gently curling his hair between its fingers, was this –

Chase will be its, and Chase will not die.

It has a great satisfaction with this plan now, more than it thought possible. After months of boredom, finally, finally! Something that makes it excited again, something that makes it feel – well – happy!

Chase is still playing with his phone. Anti steps back into the hallway and sees him frowning down at it, pressing on the power button a few times in a row, looking unhappy.

“Did I call him, or…? Need to tell him I’m okay or he’ll – ahh!”

Chase screams aloud at the sight of Anti standing in the hallway with his backpack on. Anti frowns as he goes tumbling to the floor in his alarm, groaning from the whiplash in an already concussed head.

“You’re – you’re showing yourself to me?” gasps Chase, scrambling away. “What’s – are you going to kill me? What’s going on? Hey, stay away!”

But Anti is moving forward, a smile already on its face. This is perfect! This is perfect! It could howl! It could shout! The man is looking at it again, just like he did that night he tried to kill himself, the night that Anti saved his life, and there is the change in his eyes, the recognition, and Anti feels seen and known and in control all over again, and everything is good, everything is perfect.

“What are you doing?” demands Chase, his hands reaching out to protect himself. A fighter, yes, just like Anti always saw. Small and weak and mortal and foolish, yes, but also courageous, courageous, always something special about him. Anti always knew. It grabs Chase’s wrist and pulls him to his feet, humming to itself, singing the old lullaby it always used to haunt him with.

“No, stop, I hate that!” screams Chase, trying to cover his ears, trying to yank away from him. “Stop it, let me go!”

He’s such a pretty little human, even if he is built so scrawny. Anti likes his dark hair and his fire eyes and his soft stomach and even his stupid tattoos, just because they’re his and he’s so goofy, silly human creature. It’s all familiar to him now. The boredom that it thought it was feeling all this time it now sees was a secret fear of the truth that it was becoming attached to him. But last night woke it up to the realization that it did not want to see the boy die and it’s so pleased that he decided to live. In a way, the human was deciding to stay with it! Everything is good. It wrangles Chase’s other wrist and begins to drag him towards the door, unbothered by the sound of his shouting, which is little more than white noise to Anti after so long spent following Chase.

“No, no! Help me, someone help!” he cries.

Someone pounds on the walls of the apartment. A muffled “can you shut the fuck up for once in your life?” makes its way through the plaster. Chase sobs, tearing at Anti’s hands, his eyes wild and desperate. Anti keeps humming.

It will set him up somewhere just as good as this stupid little apartment. Better even. Bigger and less worn. And it will teach Chase to take better care of it too, so he doesn’t make such a mess like he always does. It will give him things he hasn’t even realized he wants yet. It will give him his little succulent back and he will take care of it. Humans need things to take care of or they get very sad and they die sometimes – that’s the thing about humans, they can get so sad they can die, and it’s no longer fun for Anti to watch, so it will get Chase things to take care of instead. What do humans like to take care of? Cows? Hamsters? Potatoes? Whatever he wants.

It takes Chase’s keys and drags him out to his car, opening the door and letting all of Chase’s trash litter onto the street. Its foot crunches on garbage as it pushes its human inside, chirping politely at him when he struggles and gently blocking him from escaping, keeping him pressed inside the car. When Chase tries to lunge forward past it, Anti shoves him against the glass and makes him yelp, clutching at its aching head. Whoops! It pulls back quickly and pats his cheek, checking the bruise and patting Chase’s head. It will take some time to learn the boundaries for touching the human, but it will learn. It keeps him carefully inside until the human has gone breathless and shaky and realizes he can’t get out right now. Satisfied, Anti gets into the car beside him and starts the engine.

Oh, no, wait. One more thing it wants to do.

Anti sets Chase’s apartment on fire, whistling its song to itself as it disables the alarms and leaves a few rags beginning to spread the fire from the oven to the counters. Fuck that landlord who yelled at him. Now the other humans will probably think he died in the fire or something and not come looking for him. Not that they could find him if they tried. Anti leaves the apartment smoking and gets back into the car, chirping and purring to itself, too excited to care that it’s acting like a youngling on its first Samhain.

The human stares at the road as they begin to move, shell-shocked and trembling. Eventually his eyes flicker over to Anti, and it can see that he isn’t sure if he should be angry or terrified or just numb to all of this, numb to everything.

Numb is what he settles on. Numb and a little weepy, anyway. Anti coos and reaches out to touch the human’s neck, rubbing warmly at his soft skin.

Chase curls in on himself, shirtless and shivering in the seat of his own car, kidnapped and alone, and he begins to cry very softly.

There’s blood on his arm. He’s tired. He’s hungover. He’s still struggling with the desire to die despite surviving the night before. He thinks he left Henrik a weird voicemail. The monster that’s been haunting him for years has just appeared in the flesh and thrown him out of his apartment. He doesn’t know what’s happening. He just wants everything to stop.

He just wants this to stop.

The monster repeats its cooing noise at his side, still petting at his neck and throat. Chase shudders and cries, rocking himself gently in the seat, wishing for his headphones. Anti turns on both the heat and the radio. A top-twenties station comes on and plays music familiar to Chase’s ears, and they drive, and they drive, and he begins to go quiet and still, sniffling to himself, hugging his shoulders. Feeling the monster petting him like an animal.

“Okay,” whispers a warbled voice when Chase has finally begun to calm down, and he looks up in shock to see the monster speaking, or trying to. He’d never known it to speak at all – only to watch him, and laugh, and whistle or hum, playing tricks on him or mimicking him in the corner of his vision. They’d never spoken.

“Okay,” it repeats, touching his hair. “Okay.”

Chase swallows and says nothing.

Anti pulls over after a couple hours of driving and hands Chase the backpack, helping him pull out the clothes and put shoes and a shirt on. It leads him inside a gas station and lets him use his bathroom and wash his face, staying beside him the whole time. Chase doesn’t try to protest or call for help. He does not know why.

Anti leads him carefully through the aisles of the gas station, a big truck stop station with rows and rows of snacks and toys and clothes and knick-knacks like phone charges for cars and California-themed snow-globes. It seems interested in everything, but in an amused way, like it’s laughing at everything, and Chase is supposed to be laughing with it.

He doesn’t know what to do. Anti’s arm is around his shoulder.

The monster buys something with Chase’s credit card while Chase shakes beneath his arm and tries to figure out what’s happening, though his brain seems to be shutting down from being so overwhelmed and he really just wants a drink. Anti pulls him back towards the car and this time, he clambers in without protest, sitting down in the passenger seat and buckling in.

Anti sits down beside him and offers him the bag from the gas station. Chase blinks and looks over, taking the bag numbly from its hands.

There are nuts for protein and three bottles of water. Chips and a breakfast sandwich and jerky and chocolate and a small, stuffed lion with the name “Lionel” in its ear.

Anti starts the car again. They drive.

“What are you?” asks Chase in a whisper.

The monster glances over at him and touches his face, stroking a finger down his cheek, down his beard, and, in that struggling, glitching, inhuman voice, it tells him:

“Anti. And you are mine. No more scares. No more slow dying. I look after you. Human. Chase. Mine.”

The monster who’s been haunting him for months wants to keep him as a pet.

The desert is rolling past Chase’s window. Lionel sits patiently on his lap. The radio plays something inane and catchy. Anti is touching his hand.

“Mine,” it says again. “Okay, Chase. It’s okay.”

Chase closes his eyes, and, leaning back against the headrest of the car, he lets himself drift into sleep.

#chase brody #antisepticeye #cutting tw #suicide tw #extreme distress tw #bee writes #2020 prompts #favored puppet #florenceisfalling

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