#poor kid lost an eye due to mind control

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 20. showtime

chapter tags/warnings: dad! toji. toji also calls himself daddy. vouyerism. angsty! megumi. infidelity/adultery. pet names (mainly "princess" and "sweetheart"). mentions of violence. mentions of betrayal. so much family drama. strong language. classism. manipulative undertones.

word count: 2.6k

notes: this was originally going to be one long ass chapter but I had to break this into two. you will see why. enjoy! comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Obviously, you wanted to learn everything about Toji Fushiguro.  

He didn’t have to hear you say it. 

Already, Toji could tell from the inquisitive glisten in your round eyes, that all he saw in you was curiosity with the need—not the want—for him to share himself with you. Naturally, you would like him to retell his story from chapter one. 

Similarly, he longed to share his tales, revealing the burdens that had been gnawing at him since his childhood. That Toji had known Naoya for years, that he used to be a Zenin himself, that he knew your husband was fucking his ex-wife. How messed up was that? 

Very much so.

The main problem was, though, that Toji was selfish. 

While he would love to be honest, he did not want to shatter your trust in him. He knew how much you lived under Naobito and Naoya’s control since your father worked under the Zenin Corporation, so the last thing he desired was for you to associate him with them. 

Toji didn’t want you to be scared around him, too.

The idea of losing you was something that Toji did not want to think about. Yes, this was going to sound possessive but...Toji liked having you around. Not in a sexual way, but in a companionship manner.

Or maybe both, but still.  

Regardless, your presence comforted him.  

Of course, Megumi was another factor in the equation. Given that the teenager hated his Uncle Naoya, he understandably could not stand to see his pampered in-law (you) either. Toji knew Megumi’s frustration was a projection of his mental turmoil and that much of the ordeal was due to Toji’s previous poor decisions regarding women. 

But you were different.  

For the first time in a very long while, Toji believed he had gotten something right. 

All these thoughts brewed in his mind as he outstretched his arm to brush over the smudged mascara by your cheek. In vain, he attempted to rub away the signs from your earlier sadness. 

“Want to wash your face in the bathroom first?” 

The question came out more like a command, and defeat sank into your features as you ultimately respected his decision. 

“Okay,” you acquiesced.

Even if you wanted to, there was no chance for you to protest when Toji stepped past you and toward the spiral staircase. You followed him without another choice, trailing behind him like a lost duckling.  

Although you seemingly settled down from the whole Naoya situation, Toji had yet to. As he ascended the steps to the apartment’s upper level, he placed up a front in which he was all calm and levelheaded when—in reality—he could still feel the burning, white-hot anger rolling off his body. 

Toji badly—so, so badly—wanted to hightail it to wherever the fuck Naoya was in this world and beat the living shit out of him. He always knew that his kid cousin couldn’t be trusted with a wife because he wrecked so many people already. 

Nonetheless, Toji had kept these thoughts to himself ever since he first heard about Naoya’s marriage from business and celebrity newspapers. After all, Toji didn’t know you earlier this year and wasn't in the appropriate position to intervene, therapist or not. His relationships were his relationships, and your relationships were yours. 

Now, with that misogynistic jackoff proving him right, Toji had some regrets.  

He should have done more.  

Toji abhorred knowing that Naoya was emotionally abusing you, disrespecting you, and treating you like you were just another dumb slut.

Put simply, he absolutely could not stand to see you so upset and fucked over by somebody who didn’t deserve you in the first place—by Naoya fucking Zenin of all people in this world. 

While Toji would admit that he had his reservations about you upon the first encounter, he rapidly realized that you were nothing more than an innocent lamb caught in an ugly crossfire. 

Could Naoya not see how lucky he was with you? A whole package was what you were: your allure unparalleled, your energy contagious, and your elegance remarkable. No wonder Naobito had taken every measure to secure you as his son’s wife.

On the other hand, Toji sincerely wished that you would no longer be miserable because a person like you deserved to enjoy all the rhapsodies of life. 

Sometimes, Toji wished that you stood up for yourself more. He wished that you had been more selfish over some things that were rightfully yours. Your marriage, your family, your happiness一these belonged to you , yet some other woman (the real ‘dumb slut’) was robbing you of these entitlements.

Had you been single, had you waited a little, Toji knew for sure that countless suitors would have lined up vying to court you, willing to throw themselves on the line because you would be their queen. 

“Are you alright?”  

Given that he had been lost in thought, Toji jolted at your voice. He had stopped completely at the upstairs landing, brain still reeling from thoughts of leaving Naoya busted and bloodied, hanging on to life from a thin little thread. 

Vigorously, he shook his head from side to side to clear his mind. 

Regardless of how badly he wanted to and how easy the task would be for him, Toji would not stoop that low to exert physical violence on someone else. Even though the fool deserved to be punished twenty times over, Toji wouldn’t hurt your husband because you would also not want him to. 

But damn, holding himself back was hard. 

For Toji, who had seen how Naoya’s impulsivity and greed had hurt his step-daughter Tsumiki and his son Megumi as well, restraint was especially difficult.   

"Ah, my bad,” Toji finally said after composing himself many moments later. He then realized that he had yet to introduce the apartment’s layout. “So the lower level includes the guest areas: the parlor, kitchen, bar, dining space, home theater. Upstairs, though, are where the living spaces reside.” He gestured toward the far rear of the corridor. “Bedrooms are over there with a study room at the end, but the washroom,” he went several steps ahead, pushing open the first door to the left, “is right here."  

In slow and inquisitive steps, you followed as Toji started rummaging in a linen closet by the entrance. He grabbed at the white cotton towels in the lower compartment.

"For you," he explained, placing a neatly folded set into your delicate hands. “Here. Splash some cold water on your face. Let me find you in a couple of minutes. I will check on Megumi in the meantime.” 

“Alright,” you hummed while Toji retreated back into the halls. 

“Talk to you later, then.”

Next mission was Megumi Fushiguro, a troubled boy who could easily be misunderstood. 

Oftentimes, Toji saw his own reflection within his son. He recognized himself the most in Megumi’s cheerless gaze, where beyond the initial glimpse lay a barren tundra bleakened by pain, by incidents that have hurt him before. 

In that dark void existed a part that cried for help, but this place remained faded over so that others could not pry into the true emotions within.  

Megumi was terrified. 

Heck, even Toji was, too. 

Because, in their experiences, those who had betrayed the most were those who had been the closest to them. Therefore, all that was left was caution, wariness, and distrust, such that now—between father and son—there was no one to turn against but one another.  

“Megumi!” Toji shouted when arriving at the said boy’s door. (Unlike a certain colleague, he at least had the decency to announce his arrival.) 

As expected, however, there came no response. 

He then knocked loudly so that Megumi would hear the sound even with his headphones blasting.

Nothing again.

Exasperated, Toji wiggled the knob. Noticing that the handle was unlocked, he opened the door and into a darkened room. Megumi had switched everything off save for his glaring computer monitor, but the boy wasn’t in his chair either. 

“I don’t really want to talk right now.” 

Instead, Megumi’s grumble came from his bed, to where Toji looked and saw a large blanketed heap. The teenager was cocooned in his sheets, not leaving a single black strand in sight. 

From the small gap amid the lump came another glow.  

He’s on his phone , Toji figured, which he knew among kids these days was the ultimate sign that they wanted to be left alone. 

Except the therapist side in him was not going to give up that easily. 

Idly, Toji flicked at a nearby houseplant. 

“Not talking right now is okay but,” his green gaze shifted from the succulent to the enveloped lump, “trust me on her. She’s on our side.” 

Rather than another outburst, Megumi didn’t reply immediately. “Sure,” he mumbled eventually but hardly convinced, using whatever TikToks he was scrolling through to fill the silence for him. 

“If Tsumiki had been home from university,” Toji continued, this time bringing up the step-sister that the boy adored, “would she want to hear her little brother talk to others like that?”

Another long pause. “Whatever.” 

“I know I had made bad judgments about people before, but—for this one instance—think about what you’ve said tonight,” was what Toji left his son with as he wished Megumi a good night and closed the door behind him with one very extended sigh. 

Being a therapist was tough, but being a single father was a thousand times more wearisome.

Toji would consider calling an end to the evening, to sit in his study as he evaluated his own emotions, but was reminded that he had a guest by shuffling sounds from down the hall.

Knowing that he still owed a small explanation, he paced back to the bathroom, barging into the vicinity to suggest, “Whenever you’re ready, let’s go talk again...down...stairs....” 

His voice trailed off before disappearing completely when he could not locate you.

Rather than finding you by the sink washing your face like he advised and expected, Toji spotted your tossed clothes on the floor. Confused, his gaze darted around until he glanced toward the bathtub where he found your muted form hovering over, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I, um,” you blinked rapidly, as though you had been caught doing something bad. “I showered, too.” 

You got flustered too easily, which was adorable. 

The only thing that covered your naked and glistening form was the towel that had been wrapped around your figure, but even that hung low from your chest before stopping abruptly past your hips, leaving little to the imagination. 

In the lamplight, you glowed golden while clinging droplets made your skin shine. Your cheeks and arms were flushed, your body heaving from heavy panting.

You clutched the fabric tighter so that the towel would not merely slip away, but if Toji had to be honest, you would have to hold on to that for dear life so that he didn’t yank the whole damn cover away entirely. 

A shaky breath later, his gaze wandered up your body until his malachite eyes flicked up to collide with yours, his tongue—piercing and all—caught between his teeth. Meanwhile, your mouth was plush and sweetly pursed, softened by a doe-like innocence, and he saw how you trembled slightly from the sudden vulnerability. 

Toji should be able to handle himself better. After watching you break down and then dealing with his personal stressors, the last thing he should feel was the boiling need that burned through his skin, the air in his lungs weighty as if flames from his stomach drifted thick smoke into them. 

Just…leave him alone okay? 

Fuck.  

"Not inviting your host to the party is bad manners,” was what he found himself saying, but the light grin on his face did not match the lust and pink flush that swept across his face.

You cleared your throat as water dripped from your elbows. With every effort, you tried to stay casual. “Sorry.” 

Toji chuckled at how seriously you took the accusation. “Relax, princess. I’m just messing with you.”

All pouty, you looked at him with those huge, round eyes.

“Then, can I ask something while you’re here?”

Intrigued, he lifted a brow. “Depends.”

“Why are you scared to open up to me, Toji?” you pressed on.

The said man didn’t immediately answer, placing his hands inside his pockets instead. He rolled his shoulders back, all without his gaze leaving your intentful one. Sure, you both stared at each other wordlessly—but somehow, in the absence of conversation, the more you two began to understand one another. 

“Simple. I don’t bring up my past to just anybody, darling. Apologies for the disappointment.” 

“But I’m not ‘just anybody,’” you fought back, half-offended. “We’re friends , remember? Just like you had said.” Then, you directed an accusatory finger to his stoic face. “So, I’m somebody special .”

Well, you stumped him now. 

Contemplating an answer, Toji walked around your clothes and met you at the other section in the bathroom, cornering you against the nearby countertop as his brawny body leered over your smaller one. 

When you glanced upward, your warm breaths fanned across his scar. But the heat that whirled between your bodies was far more excruciating, stifling even. 

“What if my reason is to protect you?” He stopped, half-expecting you to cower but all that shone was determination. So, he resumed, “My history is fucked up. I was born into an unlucky situation surrounded by manipulative people, and I was another stupid person making stupid choices. Here I am, still dealing with the blow many years later. I don’t think you’ll want to talk to me again once you learn about the people I share the same blood with."

“But that is them. That is not you . Why would I want to forget you after everything you have done for me?” you vented in disbelief. “Toji, all I want is to help you!”

“Better not to drag yourself into this. You’re already much deeper in the waters than you think,” he admitted with a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his inky hair. “I couldn’t shield my son, and I couldn’t shield my stepdaughter. Therefore, I cannot promise that I would not hurt you, either.”

You fell quiet for a brief moment.

“That’s okay,” you resolved. “Because you…would be worth the pain.”

Toji felt...his heart leap? He had not been this exposed in many, many years, and he reached for your hands so that he could lace your fingers together. His emotions were so fragile and raw , his face only inches away from yours at this point.

"Really now?"

"Yes." A pause. “Then, what…does this mean for us?” 

Toji shrugged, eyeing that stupid fucking wedding band on your fourth digit. “I’m not the married one here, sweetheart. The decision is yours,” he offered up, although he could feel himself grow dizzy. “What do you want?”

In anticipation, your tongue ran across your lower lip. You crept forward and moved closer until your thighs were pressed flush against his.

“ You .”

And boy, did Toji love that answer.

He leaned forward again, this time scooping up your behind and propping you onto the countertop, yanking the pointless towel that had been shielding your goddess-like figure. He gave your hips a good squeeze before tearing your knees in opposite directions. 

You yelped and winced from the discomfort, but Toji knew you loved being maneuvered. Between your legs was a glistening mess, almost as if your pussy had been weeping for him, begging and crying and sobbing for your therapist’s touch. Did you actually think you were going to hide this from him?

When Toji looked up and met your line of sight, he cherished how you peered at him from under your fluttering lashes.

What a beautiful scene. 

So, he smiled. 

“Then why don’t you give daddy a show?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: 1) I know you hate me for the cliffhanger, but I had to! 2) For a while, I had been debating whether to write this chapter and the upcoming one in Y/N's or Toji's POV. In the end, I chose Toji's perspective to shine some light into his thoughts when he's with us. See you all again soon! Get ready to get real dirty next chapter. ♡

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @blackdragoncigarette @puffaloxx @shoisae @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk season 2 #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #naoya x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya #geto #sukuna #choso #toji #toji fushiguro #megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro #anime #anime fanfic #anime smut #anime angst #anime fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #jamms.sextherapy

[igotanidea]

Secrets: batfamily x ScarlettWitch!reader

The graphic is not mine, found it on pinterest.

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dick.” The boy shook it hesitantly

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

“Yes.” His tone became harsher.

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

“How do you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I never said you were a freak.”

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

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

 “It’s Batman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

After making such important choice, she realized it would be nice to get back in touch with Dick so she simply called him and they rebuilt their friendship. They even went far enough to reveal their other identities to each other.

“Wait, you were the original Robin?!”  her eyes went wide upon hearing the news “you were the one who tried to save me during that assault?! Damn it, Dick.”

“You never really needed my help.” He shrugged “now I know why. Scarlett Witch, huh? Makes sense. What exactly can you do apart from getting inside people’s heads?”

However, she never told him she was secretly working with his foster father.

Not when during one of the mission she found out that Red Hood real identity was Jason Todd and he was in fact Bruce’s son and Dick’s brother.

Not when she fell in love with such brother.

Not when she started working with the latest Robin aka Damian.

Not when one time Dick asked her to join him on the mission.

Not when he suggested she could be a part of bat team, even if the team already consisted of too many people who tended to fight with one another (mostly Dick and Jason).

She kept in the dark and it was getting harder to control who knew what about her. Dick and Jason were aware of her real name and her alias, but not that she was occasional Batman’s partner. Damian knew only the Scarlett Witch and working with Batman part and Tim knew everything, of course while Cass, Steph and Babs knew her only as Y/N, their civilian friend. It was crazy.

Until the day when Bruce broke his promise of giving her mission freedom and she got really angry. Despite their agreement, Batman interfered in Scarlett Witch’s contacts on the drug trafficking causing the informants to fled from the city and her operation went south.

“Get out of my way!” she yelled when both Dick and Jason blocked her way demanding some explanation.

“Y/N. why don’t you just calm down a little, all right?” Dick started, trying his best not to worsen the situation. After all she was the freaking Scarlett Witch. She could have them on the ground wincing in pain within seconds. It was better not to mess with her

“Yeah, I will calm down right after the freaking Batman keep his promises!” she yelled

“Wait, what? What promises? I don’t get it…..” Damian frowned again “Father, who is this girl?”

“Leave us.” Bruce spoke calmly

“What is going on here?” Tim emerged from the door and as his eyes landed on Y/N he understood everything  “Oh, shit…..”

“Can someone tell me…..?”

“Shut up Damian!” Jason, Dick and Y/N yelled in unison

“I said: leave us.” Bruce repeated in his most stern tone, yet no one paid attention to him anymore

“I don’t understand half of what’s happening but I’m not leaving” Jason laughed  “If my girl goes full Scarlett Witch on Bruce I’d love to see it.” He moved towards Y/N and kissed her cheek making her blush a bit. “Don’t hold back, babe. I like that wild side of yours.” He smirked

“Stop it, Jace!” she tried to rid herself of him

“Wait. SHES THE SCARLETT WITCH!?” Damian exclaimed “but she looks so….. ordinary.”

“WATCH YOUR TONGUE, DEMON!”

“Before someone get hurt….” Dick started blocking Jason and Damian from killing each other

“LET ME GO DICKHEAD! HE JUST OFFENDED MY GIRLFRIEND!”

“ I JUST STATED THE OBVIOUS! SHE LOOKS NORMAL!”

“THAT IS A STEP UP FROM HOW YOU LOOK!”

“Do you work with Bruce Y/n? I mean, Batman? Why didn’t you tell me?” Dick’s finally caught up on the situation and glanced at his best friend with hurt expression.

“You have always been a bad detective, Dick. Of course she works with Batman. I was the one who offered her this position.” Tim smirked

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“It was my idea…..”

“YOU GOT HER INVOLVED IN THIS SHIT!?”

Now, everyone was fighting everyone and it was hard to tell when all of this started. Y/N and Bruce were just standing in the middle of the havoc, eyes switching between all of the boys with despair and embarrassment (Bruce) and disbelief and amusement (Y/N).

“You know, Bruce, I came here to confront you about interfering with my operation, but I don’t think I am angry anymore.”

“I can see. However, I wanted to tell you, that I got you the information you needed to finish it.”

“Really, you did? How?” she turned slightly from the scene in front of her and looked straight at Bruce

“A bit of intimidation and mention of powerful woman coming after anyone who refused to cooperate.”

“A powerful woman, huh?”

“Catwoman, of course.”

“Of course” she nodded “Thank you, Bruce. Business with you is …. tolerable, I guess.”

 “But we’re not partners.” He muttered

“Obviously” she smirked “never were, never will be.” They were both liars.

“Do you think we should stop the boys from killing each other?” Bruce wondered

“Do you think we can?”

“Well, you are the Witch here. As much as I hate magic, can’t you do something?”

“Did you see them?” Y/N pointed towards the four unhinged figures yelling at each other “that’s beyond my level of expertise.”

“So…. we just leave?”

“Yes. Yes, we just…. leave. They will sort it out by themselves, right?”

“And it’s not because we are terrified of what they can do…..” Bruce muttered retreating backwards

“Absolutely not….. We just should discuss the case.”

“Yes. We should discuss the case.”

“Cause it’s really important.”

“Vital.”

“And it definitely can’t wait.”

“Shall we then?” Bruce pointed toward the exit and without any further ado they both disappeared from the cave leaving boys to deal with their banter themselves.

#batboys x reader #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #timothy drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin dc #batboys x y/n #batboys x you #batfam x you #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #scarlett witch reader #dc x reader

[circethesinner]

the puppeteer ✿ monster hunting - chapter 7 ✿

pairing: steve harrington x original female character (can be read as x reader)

warning(s): strong language, descriptions of violence, mature themes  

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Bambi had a few hundred dollars on her that she'd taken from the money George had given her, she wasn't sure how much she could buy with it at the hunting shop, but she hoped it would be enough.

She kept an eye on the time. It was only 3:30pm; she still had an hour and a half until she was due to meet up with George. It had only been a day, but she missed him. She wouldn't dare admit it to his face, but she hoped he'd just know. He had a way of just knowing things.

The three teens perused the shop, filling their baskets with various tools and weapons as they went. They did so wordlessly, all placing their baskets on the counter with a loud thud. The man behind the counter looked incredibly uneasy. Bambi couldn't blame him; it probably wasn't every day that three teenagers bought enough hunting supplies to catch an entire pack of wolves at once.

"And I'll have four boxes of the 38s." Jonathan didn't speak with much confidence, which definitely wasn't going to help them convince the shopkeeper that what they were doing was perfectly fine and didn't need to be questioned at all. As the shopkeeper turned around to get the bullets, Bambi pulled out enough money to cover their purchases and a 'tip' which was just a nicer way of saying she planned to bribe the man.

"What you kids doin' with all this?" The man asked as he placed four boxes of 38s on the counter with everything else. The three looked between one another, trying to come up with a quick answer that would give them the green pass they needed.

"Monster hunting," Nancy eventually answered. Bambi almost laughed. At least she was honest? Bambi slid the money over to him, ensuring he saw the generous 'tip' she was offering for his cooperation.

"Yeah..." The man shook his head slowly as he looked between the money and the items on the counter. "I'm going to need to see IDs from all of you." Bambi could see Jonathan and Nancy freeze up and start to panic. Bambi didn't need to check their IDs to know that the two were likely under 18, just like her. She almost regretted not taking Josh back at the diner up on his offer of getting her a fake ID so he could take her out to the bar.

"Can't you just-" Nancy started to argue, but Bambi placed a hand on her arm. She didn't like what she was about to say or do, but they didn't have much of a choice.

"It's okay. I'll sort this." She whispered, just loud enough for them both to hear.

It had really been a while since she used her powers. She was worried for a second that they weren't working as it took longer than usual to make the connection. Suddenly, she was looking at herself, Nancy, and Jonathan. She had to stop herself from visibly cringing at the sight of herself standing there. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, so all you could see was white. She stood still as a statue while blood slowly dripped down from her nose. She looked like she was demonically possessed. It was the first time she'd ever seen what she looked like when controlling someone else, and she didn't like it one bit.

"On second thoughts, no ID needed. Y'all have a good day." Bambi took the money as she diverted her eyes, unable to look at herself for even a second more. Momentarily, she debated giving herself a discount but decided against it. It might cause problems for the poor guy she's controlling in the future if the shop is short on cash. She made sure she gave herself back the extra cash she'd offered; he'd lost that opportunity when he didn't comply.

Bambi returned back to her body, blinking the dryness out of her eyes for a second. Both Jonathan and Nancy were looking at her. She motioned for them to grab their new purchases and leave as soon as they could before the guy started to question why he'd just changed his mind so quickly.

Jonathan handed her a tissue. She gratefully took it and began to wipe the blood from her nose.

"That was definitely... something...." He mumbled, likely not wanting to say something insensitive that might upset Bambi.

"I didn't realise how fucking terrifying I look when I do that." Bambi snorted, trying to lighten the mood a little. "Usually, they had me and my target in two separate dark rooms so I couldn't escape, which meant I never got to see myself while I wasn't... Myself."

"You know, last week I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend." Nancy laughed softly as Jonathan opened up the trunk to deposit their new wares. "It seemed like life or death, you know? And... and now...."

"You're shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers and a girl you met in the forest yesterday who has superpowers." Jonathan joked, closing the trunk of his car again. "What's the weirdest part? Me, Bambi, or the bear trap?"

"You," Nancy answered without hesitation. "It's definitely you." Bambi laughed at the two as she finished wiping all of the blood up from her nose. If this thing was able to detect blood, she needed to make sure she was clear.

A car horn honked from behind them, and a boy hung out the window to speak as they drove past. "Hey, Nance! Can't wait to see your movie."

"What the hell was that?" Jonathan asked. Bambi was glad he did because she was worried there was some sort of inside joke she was missing.

"I don't know," Nancy responded, as confused as the other two were. Some sort of acknowledgement crossed over her face as she turned around and started running.

"What? What? Hey! Where are you going?" Jonathan turned and started running after her. "Nancy, wait!"

Bambi groaned. Hadn't they done enough running the previous night? Despite her still aching legs begging her not to, she chased after them. They crossed a road, and Bambi narrowly avoided being hit by a car as she hadn't looked where she was going. They came to a stop, and Bambi looked up at where the other two had their gazes locked. In front of them, the sign to say which movie was showing at the theatre had been vandalised. Under where the black block letters said 'ALL THE RIGHT MOVES' were the messy red spraypainted words 'STARRING NANCY THE SLUT WHEELER'. Well, at least Bambi now knew Nancy's last name?

"Jesus..." Jonathan muttered; Bambi shook her head. She hadn't known Nancy for long, but she couldn't think of why someone would want to do this. Nancy had been so kind and welcoming. She was about to find out the answer to that question when the sound of a spraypaint can rattled through the adjoining alleyway. Having heard it, Nancy jogged over to it.

Bambi looked at Jonathan who seemed just as perturbed. With a nod to one another, they both walked down the alleyway Nancy had disappeared down. About halfway down were four teens around their age. Judging by the look on Jonathan's face that Bambi managed to catch out the corner of her eye, he knew exactly who they were.

"You don't want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?" Bambi overheard one of the girls asking as she walked up to the group. She decided it would be best to hang behind a little. She didn't know what was going on and got the sense she probably shouldn't get involved unless necessary.

"Speak of the devil," One of the boys who had been spraypainting the words Bambi could now see said 'Byers is a pervert' on the side door to the theatre, jumped down off the step. "Hi."

Well, now she knew Jonathan's last name too. What a productive day.

"You came by last night?" Nancy asked. Realisation dawned on Bambi that the boy Nancy was standing in front of was likely the 'Steve' she'd just mentioned, and he'd likely seen her and Jonathan sharing a bed.

"Ding! Ding! Ding! Does she get a prize?" Bambi already didn't like this girl. She knew her type well, the type of girl who would desperately say or do anything to make herself seem cooler than she actually was. The type of girl who would shit on someone for doing something while simultaneously doing that same thing herself.

"Look, I don't know what you think you saw, but it wasn't like that." Nancy defended herself.

"What, you just let him into your room to... study?" Steve looked between Jonathan and Nancy. His eyes momentarily landed on Bambi, who had inched slightly closer to hear better but still stood behind Jonathan. He seemed confused, likely wondering who the hell she was and why she was hanging around, but that wasn't his main focus at the moment. The boy who had been spraypainting spoke up again.

"Or for another pervy photo session?" Bambi had definitely missed a few chapters in whatever this story was. He looked over at her, and his sickening smirk widened. "And who's this? Another one of your models?" He took a couple of steps forward toward her, and Bambi fought the urge to take the same amount back. She needed to stand her ground and show that she "We were just-" Nancy stumbled over her words as she tried to figure out how to explain what they were doing last night without outright saying what they were doing.

"You were just what? Finish that sentence." Steve took some steps closer to Nancy. "Finish the sentence." They stood there in silence; just Nancy's heavy breathing lingered in the air. "Go to hell, Nancy."

"Hell sounds better than talking to these fuckers." Bambi mumbled, unable to hold back.

"What did you say, red?" The boy who had been spraypainting took some more steps forward. Despite how uncomfortably close he'd gotten, she could see every one of his freckles in more detail than she'd ever want to. Bambi stood her ground.

"Who even are you?" The girl with the attitude scoffed, looking her up and down. She was probably trying to find something she could easily insult her on. Bambi didn't bother answering since Jonathan did it for her.

"Come on, Nancy, Bambi, let's just leave." He walked forward to pull Nancy away.

"Bambi?" The girl snorted. "Like the little deer?"

"Makes sense, what with all those dots on her face," The boy who'd been inching closer and closer howled as though he'd made the best joke of the century.

"I'd ask you if you've seen your own face in the mirror, but they probably crack the moment you try." Bambi rolled her eyes at the irony that the boy who was more freckle than face was trying to make fun of her for having freckles.

"They're not worth it," Jonathan grabbed Bambi this time. He had her and Nancy's arms in each hand as he tried to pull them away.

"You know what, Byers? I'm actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer, but I guess you're just a little screw-up like your father." Jonathan stopped and let go of the Bambi and Nancy as Steve started to push him repeatedly. "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups. You know, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family."

"Jonathan, leave it." Nancy pleaded, turning around to look at him as she spoke.

"He's not worth it." Bambi echoed his own words back to him, but nothing worked as Steve continued on.

"I mean, your mom...." He was clearly trying to start a fight at this point. Both Nancy and Bambi begged Jonathan not to bite. "I'm not even surprised what happened to your brother. I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers-"

"Steve, shut up!" Nancy's words did nothing to stop Steve from continuing.

"Their family, it's a disgrace to the entire-" He finally stopped when Jonathan turned around and punched him square in the face.

Bambi groaned. She'd seen enough fights both back in the lab and at school to know this was only the beginning. The first blood had been drawn, and now it was time for the sharks to circle.

━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━

bambi said normalise being a bitch to strangers :)

likes are very much appreciated and I will give each and every one of you little kisses on the forehead for each comment you write :)

#strangerthings #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steveharrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[crescentblossom66]

Dead Bird Metro: The Tale of two Girls Chapter 16

TW: MINOR CHARACTER DEATH

“How many did we lose?” It was the very first question from the Leowle girl the moment she entered their HQ again and spotted Enrique, who helped patch up the wounds of one of their comrades.

“Haven't had the time to count all of ours, but so far we lost around 7 owls.” 7, not too great a number, but they hardly had any people to spare as it was, so any loss could potentially spell disaster. The penguin, that had entered the premises right after her, went over to Dave. The penguin saluted his boss, but he only shook his head.

“No need for that, Dave. Tell me...how many Penguiads fell?” Dave looked a bit reluctant to tell him, and shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“...They got three.” The tall penguin nodded, but now was not the time to mourn the dead. The Nyakuza would attack them again, he had no doubt that those attacks would continue.

“I see.-” He looked down for a moment, and pushed his sunglasses back up. Before he turned to Hattie. “-We have to come up with a plan, they won't stop attacking us. It's likely that their loss here will anger the Empress even more, and soon she'll take the fight to us...We have to weaken her group further, or we're done for.” Hattie returned the serious expression of the penguin and gave him a quick nod.

“You should rest a bit...DJ Grooves-” She had no idea how to properly address the penguin, she didn't want to insult him, after all he did save her life, yet, addressing him more formally was a bit...strange, he had earn her respect a bit, sure, but he was still her enemy to some extend. “-you're still injured.” She looked away awkwardly...this whole situation only got so out of control because of the gang war of her gang and the Penguiads, due to this they failed to account for the Nyakuza, due to this both bird factions were in danger of getting wiped out completely.

“You're back! Are you alright, grandpa?” The DJ rolled his eyes in exasperation, but still opened his arms for the curly-haired girl that came barreling down the stairs, overjoyed at his return.

Shrugging off that Bow calling him grandpa always made him fell extremely old, he returned her hug. “Bowie, darling, I'm alright...what happened?” He pointed at a particularly big bruise on her arm that she had sustained in the battle with the deranged cat.

“That's nothing, a small bruise won't stop me...although that battle was pretty close. If it wasn't for the Conductor of all birds, I would have been in big trouble.” The penguin visibly jolted in shock, not believing just who saved his grandkid.

Before the DJ could open his beak to question if he misheard that, Hattie's eyes that were formerly clouded in thought, suddenly opened wide, and with a smile she asked Bow: “He's awake?!” Bow just nodded, returning the smile, infected by the happiness of the other girl.

Grooves looked surprised as the Leowle girl ran past him and Bow and quickly ascended the stairs. The relief and of the girl was so unlike the way he thought she'd react. The Conductor treated all of his owls terribly, it was common knowledge among even the penguins that the owls feared him. Hattie, however, looked genuinely glad to hear that he woke up. There was no way in his mind that he treated her fairly...,maybe she was just used to it and thought that being insulted and mistreated was normal, maybe that was why she acted more calculated and shy than Bow.

“Poor girl.” He let out a sigh and looked to the ground, no kid deserved poor treatment.

“Huh? I told you I'm okay.” Bow did a spin and struck a pose to cheer him up, but his expression didn't change.

“Not you, Bow, Hattie. The girl is probably so used to that foul bird's horrid personality that she thinks it normal.”

Bow shook her head. “I don't think so-” The penguin rose an eyebrow at her, “-she's really defensive when someone speaks bad of that yellow bird, she actually told me that he's nice, and after he saved me today, I kinda understand what she meant.”

“...I hope that you're right for his sake.” Bow's upbeat smile faded as she watched the hatred of the leader of the Penguiads for the yellow bird flare up and his gaze sharpened.

-

Hattie almost tripped and fell as she sprinted up to the first floor of the building. She stopped half way in the room before the Conductor's when she realized something. How would he react to their alliance with the Penguiads? She was sure that he'd throw a tantrum about all of this, but the fact that Bow managed to talk to him and neither ended up dead gave her some hope at least.

She opened the door with some hesitation and was greeted by silence at first. Was he asleep? His ear-like feathers flicked up and the yellow owl rose his head with some effort. Any moment now, any moment he'd start to yell at her for her decisions.

“Is that ye, Hattie?” The owl seemed to have just woken up, he wiped his face with his sleeve. Hattie struggled to keep her tears at bay. She had thought that he wouldn't wake up again, and had fully resigned herself to the idea that she had to take care of the Leowles now.

To her surprise the owl sat up, gritting his beak in pain. “I-It's me...I'm so glad that you're...t-that you're...” She started to cry and turned away so he wouldn't see her tears that rolled down her face without her permission.

“It's alright, Hattie, come here.” The leader of the Leowles spoke in a soft and comforting tone, it had been a long time since she last heard him speak to her like that. When she turned back around, he had his arms outstretched and he was smiling warmly. The brown-haired girl hesitated for a second before she slowly walked over to him. Even though his wounds still ached, he pulled the little girl close to himself.

Hattie's grip on him tightened and he could feel her nails dig into his clothes. “I'm sorry g-grandpa, I-I t-tried my...har-hardest.”

He started to slowly rub her back, trying to calm her down, “I know ye have, lassie, I know. Ye did well.” She really hadn't anticipated that reaction, she thought that he'd get angry and shout at her, “I'm sorry, Hattie, so sorry that I left ye with such a heavy burden ta carry.”

“Y-You're n-not mad, because of the Penguiads?” She asked between sobs, and got a reply in form of him holding her even closer, which caused her to press her head into his shoulder.

“Cannae say that I like our current circumstances, but it beats bein' murdered by those damn fur balls. 'sides, thanks to yer actions, we still have a chance ta bounce back and show 'em that the Leowles aren't ta be messed with.” She was a bit glad that the slight anger in his voice was back, after she hadn't heard anything from him in days. That silence had been so eerie, and she had honestly thought that she'd never even hear him speak again, considering the severity of his injuries.

He continued to calm the young girl and after she had stopped sobbing, and just leaned against him he noticed that she had fallen asleep. His ear-like feathers lowered as he took a closer look and realized just how much Hattie had pushed herself. She had small circles under her eyes and he noted that she appeared to be paler than usual too. He carefully placed her down on the bed and put the blanket over her, before he got up and grabbed his cane, this time using its regular function, as his legs were still feeling like pudding.

When he exited the room, he found some of his owls who looked somewhat glad that he had returned, they gave him polite nods before they continued to carry some nails and what appeared to be a bucket with cement down the stairs, probably to fix the walls to fortify their base against the cold and the wind outside.

He carefully moved downstairs, and found just the man he'd been looking for. “Enrique, good ta see yer still kickin', lad.”

“Glad to have you back, jefe.” The eagle-owl actually showed a small hint of a smile at the sight of his superior.

“Care ta enlighten me 'bout our current situation? I've been out for quite a while after all.” He sat down in one of the chairs in the lobby, and his ear-like feathers flicked in annoyance once he noticed the penguins entering the meeting room.

Unperturbed, Enrique folded his wings and began to explain. “After you got captured, the Nyakuza started a frontal assault on our HQ-” the yellow owl interrupted him.

“Several deserted and got killed in the attack, heard that from some inmates.” The brown owl nodded.

“Hattie had the idea to regroup here, so we could avoid the Nyakuza for a while, that was when we ran right into the Penguiads, who also had to escape from their territory. So far we managed to keep those gatos from killing us by weakening them, but now we've angered their leader. She sent a small army to kill us, thanks to Hattie and that pingüino, we managed to split the army in two and drive them back. That's the current state of affairs, sir.”

“Alright, thank ye.” Enrique saluted the Conductor and went back to his business, leaving the yellow bird to think things over.

No doubt was Hattie already thinking about what to do next, and it was obvious that they had to act fast, they had angered that gray fur ball, and it wouldn't take her long to assemble her cats and start to take the fight over here.....which would result with both, the Leowles and the Penguiads, getting annihilated. They needed more information about their common enemy, someone needed to do some reconnaissance or...

“Hello, Conductor.” Bow greeted him, as she came down the stairs. Just the person he needed. “Are you okay, I don't think you should be up yet.” She gave him a worried glance that he ignored.

“Well, if I did nothing every time I was hurtin', I'd never get anythin' done..-” He got up and looked out the window toward the metro. “-One o' me owl told me 'bout our situation, and from what I could gather we need more information on those purring peck necks.” Bow cringed and looked behind her for her mentor, hoping that he hadn't heard the yellow bird swear.

“Yeah, so far we only know that they outnumber us. What are you planning?”

“We're gonna catch ourselves a small pet cat, lassie, one that will tell us all we need to know.” Seeing the sinister smile that crept onto the beak of the owl, Bow now understood what DJ Grooves meant, his methods were truly...extreme, but it was easier than sneaking into the heart of enemy territory undetected.

“You want us to capture one of those cats and force them to give us information about their internal workings?-” He nodded. “-I'm sure they're on high alert now though, this won't be easy.”

“Well figure somethin' out... Ye know how ta drive on o' those cars, right?”

“Of course, but...you're still badly hurt. I'm sure that Hattie will worry.” Bow frowned.

“Nae, she's sleepin', and this won't take long, we'll be back before anyone even notices that we're gone.”

With a sigh, Bow conceded, “Alright, gimme just a few minutes.”

-

It didn't take the two long to find some suitable targets, they had decided to get to the very edge of former Leowle territory, going near the center or the entertainment district on the other side of the Metro was obviously out of question, the former was too guarded the latter to far away. Bow parked the car nearby. They avoided the main roads, like usual until the owl told Bow to stop after spotting a pair of cats on the road ahead.

“Ye got that bat of yers?” Bow nodded, and jumped out of the car. “I'm gonna lure 'em over here around the corner, and you make sure they see stars as soon as they come 'round.”

“Aye aye, sir.” Bow saluted and hid around the corner, readying her bat. The yellow bird watched the street closely before he stepped out to make sure that those cats were the only ones in ear-shot.

“Hey ye fleabags!-” The cats focused their attention away from their conversation and started to look at who had the audacity to insult them. “-Yes, I mean ye, you smelly, fur ball-spittin', rancid-lookin' peck necks!”

“Isn't that the leader of the Leowles? There is a huge reward on whoever brings him in, dead or alive doesn't matter.” The cats started to slowly break into a run.

“Guess we bring him in dead.” After seeing that they came running, the Conductor hid around the corner and waited for Bow to hit them, which she did as soon as they turned the corner. She hit them so hard that they flipped onto their backsides after the metal made contact with their heads.

“Nice swing, lassie...good thing that bat never made contact with me head, might've straight up killed me.” He mumbled the last part, while Bow stuck her tongue out at the unconscious cats.

“I made sure to only go around half strength, would have been bad if I gave them memory loss...or brain damage.” The owl brought a rope from the trunk of the car and tied up the hands and feet of the one of the felines. He when brandished his knife. After Bow's eyes widened a bit at his action, he explained dryly;

“We only need one o' 'em, and I cannae risk this one telling his boss and givin' the Empress even more of a reason ta kill us all sooner rather than later. They're our enemies, bow lassie, better them than us.” Bow cast her eyes down and nodded. The owl aimed for the cat's heart and plunged his knife into the cat's chest.

With his injuries, the owl struggled a bit to get the cat into the car and was grateful when Bow decided to lend a hand.

The way back was mostly silent until Bow spoke in a small voice, “What...what's gonna happen after we deal with the Nyakuza? We don't have to be enemies, right?” The owl said nothing for a moment.

“We go back ta bein' enemies, lassie, too much has happened fer me ta jus' forgive that moronic leader of yers.” Putting aside the small anger she felt after he insulted DJ Grooves, and the fact that she hated how he told her that so cold and dry, like he wasn't just talking about murdering more of her and his birds, Bow kept her composure.

“Both sides have lost a lot of birds, Conductor...I understand now why my grandpa hates you, you're cold and unforgiving-” The owl next to her clenched his talons, but didn't stop looking out the window. “-but...you are not all bad, Hattie cares for you and you didn't kill me although you could have done so. Why can't we just...bury the hatchet.”

“Ye said it yerself, lassie, yer boss and I are too different from each other, it takes all me willpower ta not strangle that penguin ever time I see 'im...-” The spite and hatred in his voice vanished when he looked over at the young girl, “-I'm sorry, bow lassie, it ain't anything personal.” The next question made his feathers rise up and his breath hitch in his throat.

“Would you kill me, Conductor?”

“.....” His feathers lowered, he hadn't even thought about that, the bow-wearing lass was a Penguiad too, he'd have to...kill her eventually.....

#dead bird metro au #ahit fanfic #ahit bow kid #ahit hat kid #ahit conductor #ahit dj grooves #inspired by an au from #the confuktor

[mshexley]

Rowvember

5 - Rebuild

An Idol named Snakeskin

The Idols weren’t gone.

They were destabilized.

They were scattered.

And in that mess…things became clear to Snakeskin.

They was young when they joined.

Straight out of high school.

Between what they learned in school and what they saw online, they come to the conclusion that everything was fucked.

Politicians were corrupt.

Churches were corrupt.

The elite were corrupt.

Society…was corrupt.

But Snakesin was powerless against it.

They was alone…they felt alone.

Talking to their parents about it just resulted in them telling them that those problems were too big for them to concern themselves with and that they should just focus on themself.

Their friends didn’t really care about these things the way they did.

And the only time they found like-minded peers was online. And in this environment, they turned mentally vicious. Hostile debates on forums and blog sites. Malicious comments left on internet videos by people who were just so blatantly disconnected from reality in order to avoid looking at ACTUAL bouts of systemic oppression.

I mean, could they even be blamed? People would rather believe that reptilian aliens from 18th planet secretly control the world for the worst rather than blame the ACTUAL villains that are right in front them. The villains that were greedy and careless humans. Humans that could bleed.

They was angry…but powerless…and alone…and lost.

But the Idols, they offered them salvation.

Their version of salvation.

Snakesin…no.

Back then they was still going by their birthname: Theresa.

Theresa was desperate.

They didn’t even mind that the methods of the Idols were often questionable.

Revolutions aren’t always perfect and to want it to be was a childish wish because change…TRUE change against an institution is messy. Always has been.

And it’s to that truth that Theresa was able to suppress these reservations they had about certain plans.

But they never let them go. Even when they were wrapped in the high of life that was living among the other Idols.

It was anarchy.

When rent was due, they told them that they should live at their camp because landlords are greedy bastards.

And Theresa agreed.

Their landlord was a scumbag. Anyone who felt it was nothing to kick people out when they have nothing was a scumbag.

And Theresa had seen videos of landlords pleading their fucking cases about why “it’s ok actually” to kick out poor people because to them the rent was being paid because tenets didn’t respect them or were holding out for no reason.

Theresa’s plastered boldly worded eviction notices for everyone to see. To embarrassing people. Why else would they not slide it under the door or leave in their mailbox? It was to prove a point. That she was in control and she held the power.

When Theresa spoke of their landlord, the other Idols gave them the idea of teaching her a lesson.

And there was a part of Theresa that wanted to talk that down. Eye for an eye and all that. But they thought about it. That woman committed violence herself. Yeah, she wasn’t punching people but she was still harming them.

She was tossing people out onto the streets. Leaving them for dead and to fend on the outside while she brought him in some poor bastard that she’ll inevitably toss out onto the streets.

She’s done it to singular households.

She’s done it couples.

She’s done it a single parents.

She’s done it college kids.

She’s done it to disabled people and old people, anyone.

And society tells you to accept it because “that’s just how it is”

And that process of thought killed that part of Theresa

And then that part of them was beaten to bloody pulp…much like the landlady.

And the part that beat them…was named Snakeskin.

It was a name meant to be ironic.

And you know what?

Snakeskin didn’t feel guilty. Hell, Theresa didn’t feel guilty.

It was more like equivalent exchange.

The violence that the landlady committed would be given back to her in the form of a beating and they did not feel guilty about that.

If the landlady didn’t want that to happen, then she should’ve demonstrated more compassion.

Her apathy towards others lead her to this road.

That is not blind justice. That is karma. Karma is not some cosmic entity that just…makes bad people have accidents.

No, Karma possesses.

Karma chooses a vessel to enact.

And in that moment. Snakeskin was its vessel.

The Idols were supposed to be its vessel.

But the goal was lost.

The Collective claimed no gods or masters…but them.

They were the monarchs of the new world but they were no different.

They were nothing but cogs to the system.

Rebuilding it in their own image.

Snakeskin could tell.

The moment they realized that a mansion was in their possession…they knew.

Unless they brought about someone who owned it to the group’s cause, The Collective either owned this themselves or they stole it.

And while stealing seemed likely, you don’t steal something like that from a wealthy person without bloodshed and a large police presence.

Snakeskin didn’t trust that the Collective believed what they preached but rather saw a way for them to find worker bees that will sit when they say, crawl they say, and bark when they say.

But now…The Collective were gone.

Taken down like statues to commemorate slavers.

The Idols were scattered.

Destabilized…and lost.

The remnants of the Collective could salted and over their graves, the Idols could be rebuilt.

Not in the image of the Collective, not in Snakeskin’s image, but in the image of true anarchy and karma.

The problem with the Collective is that they wanted people to be leashed. Not to the system but to them. They focused their rage on the people and not the system.

They made purple coated enemies…out of potential allies.

Snakeskin would rebuild it.

It will be perfect.

And those that wish to enact the wills of the Collective…can join them.

#saints row #rowvember 2023

[springvaletales]

((Session 48 is wrapped!))

“I am honest (and full of Cheez-its).”

Ena’s Player: “Are we sending our interns to Sir Carl’s estate?”

Thiori’s Player: “The party is full! We need to send them to the PC!”

“NO!!! ‘Arch-Daddy’ is OFF the table!”

Sir Carl has decided to send Wayne and Zayne home to his estate for their own protection along with Thiori’s adopted kids, as he doesn’t want to put their lives at risk.

It has come about that Sir Carl believes Bagelby to be 22 years old, when Bagelby is, in fact, only sixteen.

“Oh, to be a Bagel in the Feywild…”

We left off last session with Ena noticing that a still-mind controlled Michael had disappeared along with Geraldine, and we pick up with her shaking Vashael out of unconsciousness while screaming “Where did your boytoy go now?!”

Asahi’s Player: “He’s getting kidnapped again?!”

Me: “He’s cursed! He can’t help it!”

The shouting worked, and she also slapped Vashael back to wakefulness hard enough to leave a handprint for good measure.

With Vashael in tow for back-up, Ena and Asahi followed the clue of a scrap of fabric caught in a door to chase down Geraldine, who was trying to abscond with Michael while she could. Most of the party ended up following them.

Velenna was not happy to have been left in charge of the unconscious and the dead when her son was once AGAIN in danger, but she also knows that the party is more than powerful enough to save him, and begrudgingly let them go.

Ena’s Player: “….hey Soli, if Ena and Michael are both warlocks of the Taker, then her magic can’t hurt him, right?”

Me: “That’s right! :D

Asahi’s Player: “I’m going to cast Water Whip at Michael!”

Me: D:

Ena freed Michael from the Cordypede with an Eldritch Blast at point blank range. He’s fine due to their warlock class, but Asahi got a little toasted. It was absolute overkill - the poor thing only had 1hp!

Geraldine, nervously: “You wouldn’t hit an old lady with glasses, would you?”

Ena, already charging Burning Hands: “I’ve NEVER respected my elders!”

The confrontation with Geraldine quickly turned into every party member taking a turn punching the evil flamingo lady…

….until Ena double crit her rolls and burned Geraldine to a crispy pile of feathers. Whoops.

Ena stole Geraldine’s glasses as a war trophy and mended them just because she could.

She also found a teardrop shaped pendant in the mess that she had Sir Carl identify - it’s the house seal of the House of the Wading Marshes, a once-great noble family from the continent of Cheshire across the sea.

Asahi used an enchanted acorn to contact the Taker of the Lost and ask him to wake Captain Astaroth so she could report the turn of events.

Unable to awaken Astaroth, the Taker instead dragged him by one horn down the halls to the party (in his tiny form still, as the ceiling was too low for his true form).

Ena decided to wake up Captain Astaroth by casting Thunderclap in an enclosed hallway.

Ena keeps taking points of damage for using her Eldritch Sight ability in a dragon’s palace while surrounded by powerful magic users all wielding a variety of magical items.

Ena: “Ow! That hurt. Ow! That hurt. Ow-“

Thiori collected nine dogtags from slaughtered Queen’s Guardsmen he found while returning to his room to retrieve his alchemy kit and check on the kids (the kids are alright), and Bagelby and Asahi found four more corpses while investigating Rond-El’s personal quarters and office.

Rond-El is NOT a cult spy…..but apparently he is a furry whose hobbies can be used for blackmail.

Tuck Chingle is an in-universe romance author, apparently.

Asahi gave up searching Rond-El’s room and office after needing to cover Bagelby’s eyes for the third time, and they returned to Astaroth.

After reporting her (lacking) findings to Astaroth, Asahi left Bagelby in the main hall to ‘watch over’ (aka: steal from) the incapacitated nobility, and wen to search the rooms of the royal family for anything suspicious or dangerous.

In Vashael’s room, Asahi found all the dick crystals Ena had previously placed, laundry that needed to be done, a small hoard of coins spilling out from under his bed, and a notebook filled with bad love poetry and not-so-bad sketches of Michael.

It was decided that Vashael can’t draw hands (artist mood) and that all the sketches are elbows-up only.

In Kemat’s room, Asahi found a collection of functional swords, a letter from Rond-El pleading with him to ‘think of the future’ and pick a bachelorette (every name was crossed out), and a box of magical polaroids under his bed frame.

Most of the polaroids were candids of his family (Almaea trying to eat breakfast while having a dress tailored, Maji about to slam dunk a ball through their unsuspecting father’s horns, Vashael about to jump off the guardhouse roof to fly, etc.) but a few were of Vashael and his friends, and some of the most recent were of just Michael.

“Aah, so he’s snooping!!”

In Maji’s room, Asahi found another box of hidden photos that she quickly put right back, as well as a collection of expensive hand fans on display, love letters to Maji’s fiancé, Neraagh-Aagh, and a few letters in which she complained about Rond-El pressuring Kemat to marry, Ambassador Rototol doing a shit job of faking an accent to sound more pretentious, and a not-so-secret romance she was watching between a guardsman and a palace laundress.  

The only thing Asahi found in the Queen/Prince Consort’s room was a bunch of artifacts and art from a thousand years ago, and some pieces of dragon horn.

It was decided that Manon-Val’s horns are broken not because he lost them in battle, but because he is a bottom.

“Sir Carl is having his AMV moment on the balcony outside.”

We wrapped up there because we ran out of time and people need to sleep, so we’ll set a new session date in the next few days and reconvene to cover up a massive security breach and avoid political fallout as best these disasters can!

#OOC #Quarantine D&D

[midnightunderground-npcs]

Interview: Karlha Whitlock

Dossier:

Name: Karlha Whitlock

Age: 40

Species: Werewolf

Circle: Night

Known Relationships: Tabitha Spencer (Pack Leader), Thaddeus James (Wife), Thaddeus James, Hollis Fiala, and Damian Harker (Circle Leaders), Catherine and Connor Talbot Senior (Feuding Wolf Territories)

Interview:

What's your name?

“Karlha Whitlock,” she answers simply. The sooner this can be dealt with, the sooner her poor little Tabitha can be freed, the better. Though who has a hand in this that’s framing that girl is anyone’s guess. She’s got one though.

How do you know Tabitha Spencer?

“I’m her pack leader. She’s one of my own and I trust her as my own. She wouldn’t assault another circle leader like that, especially at a party she knew I was partially hosting. Tibby is a good kid who minds her own business. Or minds her brother’s business.”

How do you know Jose Alves Cruz?

Karlha has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Mayor Cruz? You have to know him when you work in the Underground. Him and Damian work close to make sure Unaware eyes stay where they belong. I’ve known him as long as I’ve been Circle leader, since Moira became Orator. Connor, you know this, don’t be stupid.”

How do you know Hollis Fiala?

“We are circle leaders and Orator candidates at the moment. I know Hollis as well as most people know Hollis which is not at all because they prefer it that way. They’ve always kept everything close to their chest, like they’re waiting to play the perfect poker hand because they’ve been cheating the entire time. None of us trust them, because you shouldn’t trust a fae. Some advice you could due to learn.”

Did you see the shot happened/What happened that night from your perspective?

Truthfully, Connor hasn’t seen Karlha this upset since as long as she’s been with Thaddeus. Whatever storm he eased in calming was not to be tamed at this moment. And could he blame her? She’d been told she was going to die only to have one of her wolves put on trial. “I was on stage, a gunshot happened, I thought I’d been shot. I hadn’t. But now they’re saying Tabitha shot Hollis and I can’t believe that. I won’t believe that. She wouldn’t do something like that, that could jeopardize our pack’s success in the election. She’s not an idiot and only an idiot or someone with an ego would play so fast and lose. And once this all comes out in the woodwork, I’ll kill them myself from trying to frame her.

When did you get the invitation for the party/know you were going to work it?

“Thaddeus and I have this party every year as part of our Anniversary celebration. Connor, I know you’re doing your fucking job here, but these are questions everyone knows the answer too and you’re wasting your fucking time.” Karlha snarls and then, after a moment, pauses, taking a deep breath in. “I’m sorry. I lost control of my temper there. This isn’t your fault. And it’s not Tabitha’s fault either. It’s the idiot’s who ruined my dinner’s.”

Did you go with someone?

“My husband, Connor, the person’s who’s party it was.”

Do you own a gun/have you ever owned a gun?

Karlha nods gently. “Yes. I owned a gun once, a long time ago. I didn’t really think much of it. I was a wolf so I didn’t need it but it felt safer sometimes. I lived in a very rough part of town and I thought if I had a gun I could make it look like self defense more than if an intruder had their throat ripped out. I got rid of it a decade ago now. I certainly never had one that could shoot silver bullets, or even iron. Iron bullets aren’t even typically maid unless it’s by a skilled hunter. They’re hard to get, harder to get in a place that isn’t like the Black Market.”

#karlha whitlock #trial of tabitha spencer: interviews

[eaudecrow]

Portrait practice with one of Vallentin’s top 10 trauma moments

#tw eye trauma #vallentin #d&d #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d character #d&d oc #my art #digital art #poor kid lost an eye due to mind control #freak force

[zivazivc]

Pinocchio AU

Okay people want the explanation for this comic so here it goes. It’s long and complicated and MESSED UP because of course it is, this is me. I’m going to write in points because my small tired brain can’t handle good english atm but basically to sum up the Adrien was a sentimonster theory or Pinocchio AU as I like to call it:

Young married Emilie and Gabriel can’t have kids. Gabriel reluctantly accepts this fate and even brings up adoption as a possibility once, but Emilie doesn’t want to hear any of that. She’s a bit of a Marinette in the sense that she pictures this romanticized ideal life for herself and a child—her flesh and blood—HAS to be in it.

They keep trying to get a baby while other young families Emilie knows keep growing. She feels left out and hurt and depressed, then her newlywed twin sister announces she’s expecting a baby too and something within Emilie just unhinges.

She eventually lies to some of her friends, who she was out for coffee with, that she’s pregnant too. She mostly does it just to see their reaction and feel what it would be like but it quickly spirals out of control where she just starts pretending she’s pregnant until you can’t even tell if she believes it herself.

Gabriel is confused at first because he hears the news second hand (a friend/family member congratulating him) so he’s apprehensive when he approaches his wife but she convinces him that they really are getting a baby and Gabriel is ecstatic.

It’s only later at a doctor’s check up that Gabriel learns that she indeed is not pregnant. The doctor even speaks to him alone explaining that his wife is in denial and that he should make sure she goes to see a psychiatrist, something she definitely wouldn’t do alone.

Gabriel is unsuccessful with that because he’s not entirely persistent, doesn’t want to be the guy with the crazy wife having to tell everyone she lied about being pregnant, and hopelessly believes she’ll just get over it eventually.

That is until her “pregnancy is near due”—her sister already had Félix in England a few months ago—and he stumbles on her transformed with her peacock miraculous (they already have both of them) creating a sentimonster newborn.

They have a huge fight about it but because Emilie refuses to destroy it, won’t tell Gabriel where the amok is, and Gabriel can’t just hurt the baby with his hands, Emilie just… wins. Fucked up, yeah?

Now she tried creating kids before this one, using her imagination to try and blend her and Gabriel’s looks but it just wasn’t working. So she decided to copy of photos of baby Félix because he already looked almost like a copy of his mother, and Amélie and Emilie already looked alike so it’s not so weird?—is what her mind was telling her.

She didn’t dare alter his looks but she decided to give the baby Gabriel’s eye color to include the “father” in some way. (Yes in that comic I made I gave Adrien a mix of green and gray but that was mainly to get the point across to the perceptive readers)

Now we got Adrien, a normal baby boy to the whole world except for Gabriel who’s forced into his wife’s fantasy through social expectations.

Why are we only at this point and this post is already so long AAAAAAAA!!!

Adrien physically basically grows in a way where Emilie just keeps changing his appearance to match what Félix looked like a few months prior.

Mentally he’s like a robot just taking in information without really needing to learn it. So Emilie decides when he says his first word, she decides when he learns to walk,… He knows how to walk, he just wasn’t given the command to do so yet.

But even so he does develop a personality over time, just slower, because unlike a normal child who’s always testing his boundaries, how far they’re allowed to go until they’re in real trouble, Adrien just can’t misbehave. At all.

But he does have his favorite foods and favorite toys, and jokes that make him laugh the most. The problem is just that Emilie could just decide that his favorite food is strawberries and he’d just start acting accordingly, rewiring his belief. 

He also isn’t allowed to argue or be mean to others which is why Félix thinks he’s a goody two-shoes weirdo while Chloé the brat adores him.

This behavior isn’t so hard to hide with a toddler who’s fickle but it’s harder and harder as the kid grows. Which is why the family becomes very secluded over time.

Gabriel always keeps distance with his “son”. He’s not Dad, he’s Father, he doesn’t do hugs and cuddles, he doesn’t say I love you. But Adrien knows he loves him because his mom told him so and he loves him back unconditionally because Mom said that’s what families do.

Now even though Gabriel is traumatized by this whole ordeal and knowing Adrien “isn’t real” freaks him out he does soften a bit over time. I’m going to give an awful example but like someone who hates cats softening for a cat that their partner/roommate decided to get/had from before. Continuing with this example: But still becoming appalled when the cat starts acting odd/unusually.

Okay I think you get the gist. Let’s move on…

Emilie loves her son more and more as he grows and his sentimonster behaviours start bothering her more and more too. She hates being reminded that he’s not a real boy by people mentioning he looks young for his age because Emilie forgot to make him grow for a while. She hates when he does everything like he’s told. She hates that he has no real friends because they’re afraid to expose him to the outside too much and without supervision. She hates to think about his future.

Her desire for him to be real keeps growing and is what drives her to search for a solution in the miraculous spellbook.

She cracks the script after years, when Adrien is nearly a teen, and finds a way to transfer the creators soul into a sentimonster.

It’s a long process that takes time and while she falls ill to everyone around her, Adrien becomes more real.

Gabriel starts realizing what’s happening when he notices Adrien hesitate for a second when he’s playing a video game and Gabriel wants him to do something, groan when he gets bothered watching TV, huff, complain, have slightly opposing opinions to his and Emilie’s, when he argues with his mother when she tells him she’s feeling fine; when he notices his son’s eyes are greener. Or is it all in his head?

He confronts his wife too late, when she’s extremely ill already, her normally vibrant eyes dulled match Adrien’s bluish gray, and he pieces together in his head what she’s doing.

Before Gabriel could properly think what to do to stop the love of his life from turning into a lifeless doll, in a fit of panic he tries to take her wedding band (where he knows Adrien’s amok is) to get rid of Adrien instead, but is unsuccessful in getting it off her so he snatches her peacock brooch instead (which she needs to complete the spell obvs) and breaks it. (Heyoo! broken peacock miraculous. things are coming together)

Because the spell was almost complete anyway it’s Emilie who falls unconscious. But she doesn’t disappear because she’s not a real sentimonster, she just becomes dormant like one.

This is the point in the story where Gabriel makes it seem like Emilie ran away or something like that—basically disappear. Now he’s living knowing he has an almost sentimonster wife in the basement, knowing he almost killed his son (or her), and having to care for a son that suddenly became much more alive, questioning, arguing, angry, screaming, not accepting, crying, grieving, staring at him with Emilie’s eyes.

Instead of becoming a real parent, Gabriel shuts him out.

Soon Adrien evolves desires for socializing, company, getting away from the suffocating home which eventually leads to him going to a public school.

He slowly starts to live life freely without the restrictions that were put around his thoughts.

Gabriel has an even stranger relationship with Adrien now because he still loves him in a way but also holds resentment toward him. But mostly he sees him as something valuable.

The show happens here…  And now finally we get to the comic…

Gabriel gets a hold of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses. (There’s no epic fight in his lair as you see there’s no Ladybug in the comic but that’s not really important)

What’s important is that Gabriel had deciphered the miraculous spellbook with the help of Emilie’s notes and had decided to use the unification’s “wish” power to awaken Emilie.

He’s aware he’ll need to sacrifice something for the wish to come true and he’s certain Adrien should be enough because the soul inside him is literally the one thing Emilie is missing.

✨Adrien (poor boy just lost his miraculous) is taken to Gabriel’s lair, where he finds out his father is Hawk Moth, sees his mother, learns he’s a sentimonster, and that he’s going to become a sacrifice ✨

Of course the last part is not what happens. It’s Gabriel who ends up being sacrificed.

I can’t decide if Gabriel ends up sacrificing himself because he changed his mind in the last moment while Adrien was screaming for him to stop, OR  because he didn’t love Adrien enough for him to be considered an equal exchange for his wife… O.O

But anyhow…

Emilie wakes up with Gabriel’s soul within her (hence the bluish gray eyes in the comic).

Adrien is traumatized for life.

This took me hours to write… I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to do it. I hope I didn’t forget anything and my brain made sense of it all

Well there you have it, peeps. The Pinocchio AU. It’s as messed up as my sleep schedule. Good night. 

#and they all lived happily ever after. the end #ml #miraculous ladybug #sentimonster adrien theory #sentimonster!adrien #adrien agreste #emilie agreste #gabriel agreste #pinocchio au #answered #my art

[absolutepokemontrash]

Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•

:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!

MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-

Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.

All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-

…

What peculiar eyes this human had…

Oh… oh dear…

Dad-volo

The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.

“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”

After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.

Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.

MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!

“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”

Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.

Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.

Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.

Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.

They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.

This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.

Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…

Tired Uncle Lucifer

No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.

He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!

He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.

When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.

“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”

The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.

It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.

What the fuck.jpg

The things he does for his prince boyfriend…

Cool Uncle Mammon

Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.

Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!

And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!

It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…

Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.

And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)

Reclusive Uncle Leviathan

Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.

And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!

… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…

Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.

Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.

Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.

Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.

Cat Uncle Satan

Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.

Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…

But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.

His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.

Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.

Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)

And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo

…wut

Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.

This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]

Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!

But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!

Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.

The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3

Hungry Uncle Beel

Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.

So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?

Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…

The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.

Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-

Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.

Beel finds that very sweet 🥺

Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie

Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…

When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.

Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.

…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.

After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒

But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.

Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua

:0 friend!

MC: *speaks*

>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*

#obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #obey me Diavolo #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor

[bostonbashers]

Hear me out.. How do mercs behave around a person they have a huge crush on?! :D

AAAAAA this one is so cute, i’m in love!! 🤩❤️

-

Scout:

literally a fucking DORK around you. tries to impress you constantly with anything and everything he has, ranging from his skill set to his appearance to his personal belongings and much more.

always finds excuses to spend time with you and it can be the most asanine ones in existence. oh? you have free time tomorrow? let’s go take a run down the street. you miss your puppy that got lost when you were a kid? let’s go to the ends of the earth to find it.

made you borrow his jacket/shirt once because he accidentally spilled a drink all over your shirt. once he saw you in it, he nearly died and didn’t want it back. takes it back anyway due to his pride and though he seems outwardly okay with it, he secretly doesn’t wash the clothing for a long while.

his flirtatious behavior around other people goes down immensely. scout becomes strictly loyal to you once his crush grows stronger and can’t bear the thought of talking with someone else, even if you don’t like him back. it just doesn’t sit with him right.

Soldier:

soldier is much softer and kinder around you. he restrains himself from using any harsh words that could hurt your feelings and tries to slow down on your training.

shows you his pets!! one of his prized possessions that he won’t allow anyone else to touch, like ever. he trusts you to love and take care of them the same way he does.

everyone has to respect you. if they even give you a slight problem, he’ll get on their case about it and probably give them hell before they could even mutter out an apology. you deserve respect and he’s gonna make sure you get nothing less.

lots of supportive comments from him! even if it’s something small, he’ll grin at you proudly and yell out a, “good job, cupcake! you did great!” while giving you a strong pat in the back or an approving nod.

Pyro:

pyro is usually sweet and kind with a certain crowd and tries to do the best they can for others, but with their crush? it’s a whole different story. they’re absolutely head over heels for them.

like a lovesick puppy; they will follow you wherever they go with a skip in their step. like, i mean they’ll follow you everywhere. “no, pyro you can’t follow me to the bathroom-!” they don’t really listen but patiently wait outside anyway.

one of the many mercs who won’t hesitate to show affection and sees nothing wrong in it. runs up to them and holds their hand firmly with a happy hum, hugs them more than usual, and just straight up gives you all their attention.

Demoman:

oh boy, if tavish has a crush on you, he’ll show it when he’s absolutely wasted. demo will literally smother you with affection regardless of where you both are and literally latch onto you every second he gets a chance to.

lots of drunk ramblings; he’ll lay his head on your shoulder or lap while he mindlessly slurs about how amazing you are, what his favorite thing is about you, and so much more.

it’s pretty obvious at that point demo likes you so you admit your liking to him pretty quick and it’s funny how shocked he gets. “ya knew i liked ya?!” yes, demo, they did.

when he’s sober, he’s much more shy with it and controls his actions a lot more. apologizes for his behavior while drunk. tavish exhibits more gentleman behavior, from opening doors to making you a decent dinner and just basically ensuring your comfortability.

Heavy:

heavy is very mature and will accept his feelings pretty quick compared to the others. it’s a 50/50 chance with him; if they feel the same, that’s great! if they don’t, then.. he’d have no choice but to move on. that’s how life works.

once he does accept it, be expecting a lot of mother hen behavior; he literally watches your every move to make sure you’re safe and healthy. even if you are, he goes out of his way to give you things whenever he knows you’re around; a homemade meal, a blanket, probably some candy. your smile is already more than enough to make up for the little things he does for you. 

no one will ever dare to hurt you around heavy (or just in general, really). he senses danger and issues pretty quickly, so it’s easy for him to detect any bad intentions. he’s like that scary bodyguard who looms behind you, glaring at anyone who radiates rancid vibes to scare them away.

Medic:

probably takes a while to accept or realize it cause he’s always so preoccupied in his lab, being busy and all. but once he does realize it, it’s sort of foreign to him at first, so of course, he goes to heavy to speak about his emotions. after being told it was a crush, he pays attention to you a lot more than usual, sometimes even without him noticing.

he gets all giddy when you’re around and although it’s not the jumpy, squealing giddy, it’s certainly one shown through happy greetings and continuous conversations that seem to be never ending. (you don’t mind though)

makes up random appointments and checkups for the smallest things just to see you and gets very, very excited whenever you decide to come to visit him without his knowledge. nearly drops everything just to attend to you.

he talks to archimedes so much about you that his precious pet basically knows who you are based off his owners reactions and automatically flies to you whenever you enter his lab. that bird is a lot smarter than you think. they get along with you pretty well and medic melts whenever he sees you talk to his birds like he does and play with them.

Sniper:

bless his heart, the poor man will literally faint around his crush. just the sight of them flusters him to his core, and don’t even get me started on their little habits and that godforsaken smile. [hes literally almost died when they grinned at him]

he’s already so reserved and quiet as he is, but around them, it’s even worse. he’s always so scared he’s gonna scare them away or say something stupid, but he eventually lets go of the fear and tries to muster up the courage to talk to you.

once he does, he spends a lot of his time with you, often inviting you out to drive around with him or just simply sit outside and enjoy the breeze. he talks a lot more than usual and though he doesn’t completely open up about his past just yet, he does indirectly hint that he trusts you more than anyone in his life.

lots of sleepless nights when he realizes he’s in love. he does everything to take you off his mind but all fails in the end and he’s kept wide awake thinking about what you two could be. from then on, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep his cool around you and silently begs you’ll confess one day or he’ll lose it.

Engineer:

sweetheart mode: activated. like it’s not a big switch up, since he’s naturally a gentleman but it’s noticeable enough. you’ll notice that your nicknames will start slowly forming to more romantic ones and how he blushes with a smile everytime it leaves his lips.

the other mercs can tell when dell has a crush; he blushes a lot more than usual and they catch him smiling more than once by himself. they realize it when you approach him and he automatically fixes himself to look presentable without a second breath. his voice also changes to a much happier and giddy tone, it’s so cute!

stares at you from a distance a lot or whenever you’re distracted with something. half of the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing so but once he catches himself, he blushes and looks away, silently telling himself to quit it. often you’ll catch him staring at you, but you ignore it for his sake and laugh to yourself when he smiles back and waves shyly.

Spy:

takes a long while before he actually accepts the crush, seeing that he’s a very secretive and reserved person but once he does, you best believe you’ll be spoiled and loved by this man. lots of gentleman behavior!! opening doors, buying you gifts, giving you his coat, and all that fancy stuff.

teases you a lot more than he should; he enjoys your reactions. he’ll lean in close enough where your fingers brush slightly, tilt your chin up when he talks to you and makes intense eye contact while doing so. whenever he gets too close or the moment gets too tense, he backs away with a smirk and pretends as if nothing happens.

he listens to you and anything you have on your mind. his door is literally open for you 24/7 and even if you come knocking at 3 am, he’ll let you in and listen to what you have to say. you think he’s not listening cause he’s very unresponsive but when you’re finished and about to leave, he gives really good advice and tells you quietly that he’s there for you in an indirect way. depending how close he is to you, he’ll let out an experience or two about him to put you at comfort and as thanks for confiding in him. he then walks you back to your room with a simple nod and goodnight.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #team fortress 2 headcanons #team fortress 2 imagines #team fortress 2 scenarios #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 demo #tf2 demoman #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #tf2 scout #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 engie #fluff #tf2 fanfiction

[tomhiddelstonandzaynmalik]

Love at first sight?

Chapter 5

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Word count: 1340 words

Warnings: Language, suicidal thoughts.

prologue chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

"[...] I wish I was a heavenly angel

For I would always cling to my sword

But I am no heavenly angel

Hence I must fight the pain of my fault [...]".

-Heavenly Angel by an unknown author.

"Don't you have a life or something?". Warren teased Hank. It was 3:49 AM when the young man awoke from his slumber. "Not really, thanks to you". Hank's intentions had been good. To return the teasing only. But the purpose got lost when he saw Warren looking down in shame, shifting in bed as he seemed to try to make himself disappear.

It was a touchy subject for him, Hank had forgotten. He knew just how much he felt like a burden to everyone at Xavier's. It was clear Warren was not much of a talker himself. But when those sleepless nights came, where he would jump out of bed covered in sweat and breathing harshly after a particularly awful nightmare, that the idea of staying awake with his companion was more inviting than to go back to his made-up Hell.

Only then Hank had learned about the extravagant life, filled with luxurious items and exotic vacations Warren had grown in. Hank also found out about Warren's handsome but cold-hearted-control-freak father, about his loving but impotent mother, about what it was to have it all only for it to be having it taken away. The lonely days and lonelier nights that followed after, the age-inappropriate behaviours, one bad decision after another, and mostly, Hank realized just how worthless the "poor rich kid" deep down felt.

"It makes no sense". Warren said softly, looking down at the cup of freshly-made tea he was holding in his hands. "What?". The older man asked him while pouring some of it on his mug. "Me! Me being here makes no sense!", "I'm nothing but an inconvenience". Warren let out with sight. Although he was referring to him being at the mansion, the hidden meaning of it sent a shiver through Hank's spine. "Hey, stop saying that! You are NOT an inconvenience, Warren. You should be here!". Said Hank as he got closer to the boy, placing a reassuring hand onto his shoulder. There was some absolute concern in Hank's voice as he saw a glimpse of a tear peeking through Warren's eyes. "Oh! bullshit!". "You more than any other person should be pissed off with me!". "You're working extra hours on a lost cause!". Hank's heart hunched. It was true Hank had been depriving himself a lot so Warren could have the best treatment. Yes, he attempted to kill him and his friends before. But the more time he had spent with the kid, the more he had realized: Warren had been a pawn, manipulated only by the true villain, Apocalypse.

"Hey! Look at me, Warren." He said firmly. "Yes, you are right. I should be taking better care of myself. But I'm only doing so because I'm not willing to slow down until you're heald". He said, with such convincement, it made Warren believe there could be someone being finally genuinely kind to him.

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

"I- I was only, umm, you know it was just a joke, right?". Hank nervously stated. "Sure, man". Even though Warren seemed to pay no mind towards Hank's comment, his voice had failed him, having it come out on a lower pitch rather than his usual vigorous one.

in an attempt of changing the topic, Hank pointed at your still sleeping figure. "So... An old friend of yours?".

It was somehow painful for Warren to see you there, resting at the infirmary room connected to all those noisy machines. In the end, your near-death encounter, in theory, had been Warren's fault. Hank's question had rumbled within the blond's mind. You weren't friends. He didn't even know your name. And honestly, he was more preoccupied with the atrocious first impression he believed he'd made in front of you. "You are the biggest idiot on earth if you think she'll ever want to even see you after what you've put her through". Warren's inside voice scolded him.

"No". The young mutant finally answered. "oh! I see". Hank teased again. Even though what Hank was implying: The real reason You were there was because of Warren's attraction to You, was nothing but the truth. Warren couldn't stop the blush from tinting his pale cheeks." It's not what you think, okay!". "Well, your face says otherwise, Romeo". The older man was grinning at him in amusement. "Shut up!". Warren's effort of sounding threatening failed due to his face heating up impossibly harder. His natural porcelain-white face was now a deep shade of red, making his facial tattoos stand out even more. Hank was having the time of his life. While Warren was acting like a teenage boy, he couldn't stop the laughs from coming out. "You done?". Warren said from behind one of the wings he'd been using as a cover. "Hey, take it as payback from running away".

"[...] I wish I was a heavenly angel

For my heart shall always be in joy

But I am no heavenly angel

Hence I must behave just like a boy".

The atmosphere remained comfortable. After an hour or so, Warren fell asleep again, not after convincing Hank to do the same. Who after, some reluctance, finally gave in and left to his room.

"Wakie, wakie, sleeping beauty". A hoarse grunt came from Warren's sleeping form as Ororo was poking his cheeks to get his friend out of Morpheus' grip faster. "Come on, Dollface. You have to get out of bed! It's almost 9 PM!". "What the hell?" Warren shifted in bed, reading the big clock on the wall. "You little shit, it's only 9... AM!".

Ororo's giggles were resounding through the room. "Oops". "Well, now that your up, we might as well get breakfast. Don't you think?". He was going to argue about how unholy early his friend had decided to show up when his stomach gave him in. It had been more than 18 hours since the last time he'd eaten, which was why he decided to let it slip. "Fine! But you'll have to give me your bacon to make up for waking up a man who almost died in a fire at 9 AM".

"Yeez, you sure are a Drama Queen, Warren". Ororo was walking toward your bed, peeping at the monitors. "Hank said she was the one who got it bad". "Your problem was only exhaustion, which reminds me of: Hank told me, to tell you that you're free to go".

Warren zoned out the moment Ororo mention you. Under the morning's light, it was easier for him to examine You. Your H/C locks were stiff from all the dirt and ash from the fire; Your face, which had been whipped clean when you arrived, allowed him to scrutinize every inch of it. Nothing was going unnoticed. Even the tiniest of your scars located under your left brow had been seen. He was so lost on himself taking your features in he'd forgotten he was in the middle of a conversation. "Earth calling Fallen Angel, do you copy, Fallen Angel?". Ororo raised her voice. "Uh? Yes, what?". "Dear Lord, you didn't hear a thing, did you?". Ororo was irritated but decided against scolding Warren. Him showing interest in people was an odd sight. "I said if you wanted me to get you your breakfast so you could spend more time with her before your appointment with The Professor?". He only wished his friend wasn't able to see his excitement from such an offering. "That would be ni-, wait which appointment?". "What? Your pigeon brain didn't register that either? The Professor said he had something to tell you. Be at his office at 11 sharp". After that, the girl stormed off the room while yelling something along the lines of "not being people's secretary".

It had been only then, as he stood in the middle of the room when Warren heard a muffled voice behind him.

"I'm I dead?" You said.

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #archangel x reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #xmen x reader #xmen #ororo munroe #hank mccoy

[yuzukult]

from home 02 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 8.1k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: ;n; wishing this was longer than i made it... please expect the next one to take a bit of time! but you never know. i’m unpredictable.

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed!  taglist: @scalubera​ @strugglingartistno16-2​

← previous chapter || next chapter →

Waking up on an unfolded futon is no comparison to a deluxe California King bed with pearly white satin sheets.

For one, it meant that he wasn’t actually on the futon itself rather on the floor instead. Jungkook has been having an exertion amount of time trying to not fall off the limited dimensions of his now mattress. In addition to that, even after going grocery shopping, he feels like he’s spending an endless amount of money on a daily just to keep his fridge stocked because every time he pulls that door open— there’s nothing in the fridge. How is that even possible?

At times like these, he missed the personal chef. Sure, he couldn’t remember the gentleman’s name, but he made a mean grilled cheese sandwich. Instead, Jungkook enjoys a sad and limp piece of string cheese for breakfast.

For once, he’s grateful that the distance from home to work is short, really being an approximate 10 minute walk, meaning that he didn’t need to take an Uber or possibly buy a car? How did poor people transport from one place to another? He thinks of you on his route to work; the things you yelled at him the night on Hoseok’s yacht, how he purely innocently asked if he could pay for your future endeavors and the reaction he pulled from you that could only be described to be full of resentment. You really didn’t like him.

True be told, the feeling of hatred is mutual.

Jungkook dreads coming into work, mostly because the sight of you is a constant and the current impression he has of you is that you’re just plain mean and bossy. He hates that whenever he’s in the midst of a task, you manage to always slide in to critique every action he performs. How old did you think he was? Some thirteen year old with an adult job? While at the end of the line at the cashier’s station, Jungkook places the bread at the bottom of the brown bag but before he’s ready to drop the jug of milk on top, you shove his hand away. “You’re going to flatten the bread if you do it like that. Heavier duty items are at the end of the pile. Lighter and fragile items on top.” He scowls. Or when he’s in the parking lot, while lost in his thoughts, he nearly propels one of the carts directly into a moving car, and surprisingly enough, you’re standing outside beside him, swooping in with your fingers wrapped around the handlebars with sweat dripping from your forehead while halting the motions. “You almost dented that guy’s car!” He wants to tell you ‘and so what?’ but he refrains from saying anything because when he turns to look at you, you’re already halfway down the lot, making your way back indoors.

Then when he’s stacking the canned goods on the shelves, you approach him from behind and tell him that he’s doing it incorrectly. “What’s wrong about putting stuff on shelves?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “The labels aren’t facing out. How are the customers supposed to know what it is?”

“Turn the can around?” He says matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, so do it.” 

When you walk away, he’s tempted to grab the canned corn he’s restocking and chuck it at the back of your head, but he holds himself back. This is for his mom, for the development of himself, to prove to his brothers that he wasn’t just some useless, spoiled kid. You didn’t believe in him anyway which is probably why you’re being so difficult— oh how he wished he could ask for a replacement trainer. So why waste his time trying to please you when he really just needs to sway his parents? The main goal is to get the money back into his pockets anyway.

Once finishing his list of tasks, he advances toward Hoseok who’s in the middle of mopping a spill in one of the aisles. Apparently, someone had dropped a jar of pickles, filling up the place with the stench of vinegar, scrunching up Jungkook’s nose. “Is she always this mean?”

Hoseok glances up from the pile of pickles on the ground, chin resting on the handle of the mop, discouraged to clean the mess. “Who?” 

Jungkook skims the area to confirm that the coast is clear before he whispers your name discreetly. “I feel like she’s looking over my shoulder 24/7. It’s like she’s out to get me. Maybe she wants to catch me doing something stupid and get me fired.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes in response before finally crouching down to throw the scattered pickles into the trash bin beside him. “No, she doesn’t. You’re her responsibility, so if any higher ups saw you fucking around or fucking up and find out that she’s the one who’s supposed to train you, she’d lose her job. She can’t afford that, Kook.” Jungkook sighs, observing Hoseok as he’s trying to gently pick up the piece of glass that’s drenched in the juices. “Well? Are you just going to stand there and watch after what I just told you? Help me!”

Abiding by instruction, Jungkook still sighs heavily, bending his knees to grab the pickles cautiously between his index finger and thumb. This is rancid, and the way his face contorts in disgust when he flings it into the trash can says it all. He can’t believe that he’s in this position right now when he could be sitting in the middle of a golf course on a Wednesday morning, enjoying his fifth glass of merlot, with a pretty girl by his side, complimenting him every time he swings his golf club. “I miss the rich life. I don’t know how you do this everyday. Is this even worth it for you?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he grabs the last piece of glass on the floor as Jungkook tosses a handful of pickles he grabbed previously. “I just didn’t want my parents controlling where the money was going anymore. And I got tired of being called a prodigal. I wanted to be someone who could do things themselves without having my parents giving me money.”

“But how could you hate that! Isn’t that their job as parents? Taking care of you, giving you more than you need? That includes money. We’re just lucky because our parents are rich.”

Standing up from his position, Hoseok brushes his hands off on his apron as Jungkook follows in suit. “But that’s what I mean. Do you hear yourself? The ‘we’re just lucky because our parents are rich’ thing is getting old. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be just as rich but I want to be wealthy myself, not because my parents gave me the means to be.”

Hoseok makes a point but not one that Jungkook can fully grasp onto. He understood where the older male was coming from, but truth be told, Jungkook still wanted his parents’ wealth in the end. Hoseok had dreams he was chasing, ones where cutting ties from his parents would be beneficial but to Jungkook, he didn’t have any aspirations of his own to obtain like that.

“Anyway, I digress. She means well. She needs this and that café job too. Her parents don’t have any type of money, if anything, she purposely cut herself off from them so that they wouldn’t have to pay for her. Moving back home is her personal embarrassment, just like how being kicked out of your home is yours.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Hoseok pulls his lips into a tight line, dropping the mop into the bucket to extract the vinegary liquid out. “Work with it. Be better than what she’s asking for. I learned a lot from her and I’m sure you can too. Who knows? Maybe she’ll pick a couple things from you along the way.”

That’s when he tests the waters.

For the past two hours, that’s exactly what Jungkook does. He tries. Harder than usual. When you walk by, he is especially polite to customers with the brightest smile his cheeks will allow. Or when he’s back to organizing cans on the shelves, he’s attempting to show all the labels, but you’re back, questioning why he’s even stacking cans with dents in them. Then there’s the time he’s standing at the station for the self-checkout... but he gets distracted while playing on his phone and you nearly smack the living shit out of him. 

“Why do you freaking hate me so much?” He exasperates, arms dropping at his sides from frustration. The shift is finally over, thank god, but he’s still on edge as to why you always have something to say, so he chases after you into the locker room. “All you do is attack me the entire day and it’s already difficult for me to adjust to being here.”

“Listen, I get it. It’s hard. Well, I don’t really get it because I’ve been working most of my life, but this is completely new territory for you. Regardless, you still have to learn how to do this, Jungkook. Your parents aren’t going to be supporting you anymore.” Wrong. Wrong because in his mind, his parents are going to welcome him with open arms when he proves his capabilities. This situation is only temporary. “So, I want to help you. If you really need anything, here’s my number. Call me.”

“Is this a way for you to get my number?” Jungkook raises a brow suggestively. Clicking your tongue, you circle back into your locker, grabbing your bag of items. “Trust me, you would’ve known if I wanted to get in your pants. Plus, I’m giving you my number, not asking for yours, dumbass.” Flinging a crumpled piece of paper at his forehead that so happens to have your number on it, he pouts after rubbing his head. “Rude.”

“Jungkook,” You’re speed walking out of the supermarket with Jungkook trailing behind you as quickly as he can keep up with. Did you run track before? “I really don’t want to hear your excuses about why you were snooping on me while I was changing my shirt.” He didn’t see you changing, he merely caught a glimpse, but even so, it was only a bit of your tummy that he saw.

Nonetheless, he knows you’re just joking because of the light laughter that escapes from your lips afterwards that sounds like the melody of his favorite song. Maybe you weren’t so bad after all. Maybe it was just a facade you had to put up at work most of the time. “I wasn’t—“ 

“Jungkook.” 

You freeze at the sound of his name; Jungkook’s reaction is delayed as he bumps into you from behind while his head turns to the voice. “Jungsik Hyung.” 

Jeon Jungsik. Also labeled as the 3rd child or middle son of the Jeon Family. He’s known to be the philanthropist, the humanitarian of the Jeons, donating his percentage of the earnings from his family’s corporation to a different charity each time he’s the headline of an article. Jungsik in person is even more handsome than the pictures you’ve googled online; simply breathtakingly beautiful just like his personality and heart. Undercut hair with a navy blue suit that compliments his figure, he has a clean appearance with a demeanor that is nothing more than a calm and gentle nature. Despite all the greatness he possessed, he unfortunately had to go through the loss of his late wife, who the doctors had discovered she had cancer, later choosing to spend her last days in Africa, teaching the children English.

You may have looked up the prettiest Jeon brother on every search engine on a random Tuesday night, sitting on the floor with your laptop perched on the coffee table, glass of moscato in hand. Dating a guy like him would be a dream— yet, there you were, getting shit-faced drunk on moscato with a mud mask that was hardening on your face. 

Your thoughts are interrupted at the tail end of Jungkook’s introduction between you and his brother, bowing abruptly at the realization. “... She works here. Currently occupied with training me.”

Jungsik grins, pearly whites blinding your eyes. “Admirable. Thank you for looking out for our little Kook. He’s not the best at working, so I figure he must’ve made things difficult for you.”

“Occasionally,” You joke, replicating the contagious smile on his face. “But don’t worry, Jungkook will get there. Once his training portion is over, I’m sure he’ll manage.” That’s not what you said at Hoseok’s yacht, is what he wants to say, but definitely not in front of the angelic brother. Jungsik chuckles deeply at your response, tips of his ears flushing pink at your interactions, and it makes Jungkook cringe.

“That’s great. I’m sure that you two have had a long day, so is there any way I can treat you guys to dinner?”

You can feel Jungkook’s hot breath down your neck, fuming with anger with smoke probably whistling out of his ears. “Why, why, why did you agree for us to have dinner with Jungsik? This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me!” He whispers aggressively beside you but you only ignore his reaction by flipping another piece of pork on the grill. “And why the hell would you suggest coming to this dump? He said he would take us out to a five-star restaurant!”

Admittingly so, a Korean BBQ joint located in some-what of an alleyway is far from a fancy restaurant, but this place was good, your favorite, and why not introduce Jungsik and Jungkook to food that doesn’t need caviar for it to be considered delicious? 

Jungsik excused himself, looking kind of out of place in this low-ceiling location, but he forced a smile anyway before looking for the bathroom. “We can just tell him that we have to go or that you’re not feeling so well. He’ll let us make a run for it, trust me.”

You glance over at Jungkook. “You can do that. I’m staying.”

“But why!”

“Because he seems nice.” You’re adding more meat on the grill again. “Plus, I’m starving. I was going to come here anyway.” Jungkook pauses, watching as you casually maneuver the food with the prongs. “... You were going to eat alone?”

Dropping the prongs, you pick up your set of chopsticks to grab yourself a piece of kimchi. “Well, yeah. Who else am I supposed to eat with?” You shake your head, jumping back on topic. “If you want to leave, feel free. I’m still going to be here.”

“Hell no. I’m not leaving you with Jungsik hyung.”

Tilting your head with narrowed eyes, you blink. “What’s wrong with Jungsik? He’s literally an angel. Like I actually can’t believe that you guys are brothers.”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip anxiously as if he’s holding back. “I just think he’s not a good guy. So I’ll stay.”

“Sorry I took so long,” Jungsik places his blazer on the seat beside him, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up. “I just needed to wash up. So... how long have you been working at my mother’s supermarket?”

You hum in thought, counting the months from when you first started. It was during University, possibly around the time you were starting your second year... “Probably around three years? And the café... maybe two? I think I’m approaching two.”

Jungsik’s mouth gaps open. “Wait, you work at my mother’s café as well?” Nodding in response, you place a couple of the meats onto Jungsik’s plate as Jungkook eyes you carefully. “Tuition doesn’t pay itself. And I plan to start a business one day, so two jobs is the only way to get to that finish line.”

“I—I offered to pay,” Jungkook interjects into the conversation, feeling like he’s the third wheel suddenly. “I told her she didn’t need to work the two jobs and I’d help her pay for the bakery.” That’s when Jungsik’s gaze meets Jungkook’s; his stare is unreadable and Jungkook can’t place a finger on what’s running through his mind. “Are you two... dating?”

“Why does everyone ask that?” 

“Well, Jungkook is offering to pay for your business,” Jungsik begins, watching the expression on his younger sibling’s face who reciprocates the action, “and he never does that.” He pauses for a moment before breaking the staring competition with Jungkook, fixating back onto you. “But then again, Jungkook spends the family’s money heedlessly, so that’s expected. I’m sure your business is legitimate, but Jungkook probably didn’t even do any research before gifting you that proposition. And I don’t really see Jungkook in a relationship, let alone someone like you, anyways. No offense. I think you’re great, hence why I don’t think he could even land you.”

Cheeks flushing pink, you dip your head. “Thanks.”

There it was. Even when in front of a stranger, Jungsik is just like his other brothers, shamelessly speaking about Jungkook in a condescending manner. Jungkook confesses that Jungsik’s hypothesis is right— Jungkook did exactly do all those things he listed, but that doesn’t mean anything. It was a kind gesture, one that he figured Jungsik would’ve done himself, and he couldn’t see what was wrong with the decisions he had made. You were passionate about a dream, realistic with the expectations, and had mutual friends with him. He felt like despite the constant bickering, he still trusted you. More than his own siblings, at least.

The silence between the three of you was swelling, tension predominantly between the two males, so you shatter that glass by placing some beef on Jungkook’s plate. “Try that.”

“... You want me to try that? I don’t eat regular grade beef.”

“Well kid, you do now because you can’t afford any of the kobe stuff. Come on, Jungkook, just give it a shot.” Grabbing a bed of lettuce, you place a piece of garlic, swipe of gochujang paste, and drop a slice of beef onto it before wrapping and bringing it close to his mouth. “Here, try it like this.”

Jungkook can feel it. The way Jungsik studies the actions between you and Jungkook was a test. Jungsik traveled far and wide, spent time in first and third world countries, eating things that Jungkook can only imagine of eating... well, he doesn’t want to imagine some of those things, but ultimately enough, he’s testing the waters. Jungsik would go home later that night, report this to the other four siblings and to his parents in the luxurious dining room where they’d have their meetings, which meant one thing: he had to eat this concoction that you’ve created.

You lift the lettuce wrap up, gesturing him to open wide. Slowly, he parts his lips, just enough for you to thrust it into his mouth as he winces, the juices from the meat spilling out from the sides. As you wipe the spill with a napkin, his eyes dilate with a sparkle. "Holy shit. That's good."

Jungsik lets go of a breath he's been holding. "I didn't think you'd actually eat that. Don't think I've seen you eat anything without caviar, gold flakes or truffles."

Jungkook turns to his older brother, cheeks full of the lettuce that you've fed him. "Well, you thought wrong. I'm different now, hyung, and it hasn't even been that long since I've left home."

"Correction, since mother kicked you out." He retorts, attention turning back onto you. "Anyway, thank you. This amount on my plate should be enough for me tonight as for I already had a very large dinner before stopping by the market. I'm going to have to leave after this— but feel free to order as much as you like, I'll keep my card on the tab."

"Oh," Face crimson, you wave your hands in front of you in disagreement, "Don't do that. I don't mind paying."

"No, no," Jungsik says, taking a mouthful of the meat into his mouth. "It's the least I could do since you're looking after my little brother. After all, he needs all the help he can get."

When Jungsik says goodbye and exits the store, Jungkook found it inevitable to ponder why his brother decided to come by anyway. Despite his common reputation of being the sweetest and most caring Jeon, he was known to be devious to those who were close to him, shady majority of the time, and every step he made had a reasoning behind it.

The moment Jungsik steps out of the restaurant, he spits out the chewed up beef behind the door, eyes meeting with Jungkook through the windows before a mischievous smile stretches from cheek to cheek. What was he up to?

Inhaling sharply, he shoves it under the rug for future thought. "Enjoying the food?"

"Mmm," You hum, cheeks full of rice and kimchi, an unrecognizable amount of joy written across your face. "So good. Definitely worth dealing with you and your brother's weird relationship. Is this what it's like with all of your siblings?" In spite of the grain of rice stuck to your chin, he oddly thinks this sight of you is... cute. 

"Usually. They aren't really fans and disagree with almost all of my life choices except for going to University. I graduated with all honors and on the Dean's List multiple times yet I'll never be up to their standards."

"Well, to be fair, those gossip magazines talked a lot about your scandals." You grab a napkin to wipe the area around your mouth and he suddenly misses the rice that rested on your face.

"What? A twenty-three year old guy can't sleep around? What's wrong with that?"

You shake your head in response, leaning back against the metal chair that begins to bring discomfort to your tailbone. "Nothing wrong with that, but your choices on who you decide to bed is definitely controllable. You keep luring in those rich girls who do nothing all day but spread rumors and make it their life goal to assure your life is a living hell." Tapping your fingers against the table, your lips purse up in thought before resting your arms beside your plate. "Wanna order some drinks? It's on your brother's tab and you seem like you need to loosen up a little."

Five shots of charm soju in, Jungkook's supple skin is flushed red. 

"I only sleep with those types of girls because I think they have somewhat potential in dating me. But in the end, they're all the same. So I just end the night with a quick bang and go home." Strangely enough, even with Jungkook's history with drinking, he's actually a lightweight. You'd think he had a better tolerance with his constant intake but you've been proven otherwise.

Eyes hooded and face pressed against the palm of his hand while his elbows rest against the wooden table, he hums to an unfamiliar tune. "I just want to get through this part of my life. Bring home someone who's steady, realistic, and liked by my entire family where they actually have hope in me again."

"You can, just don't bring any of those girls home again." Alcohol doesn't hit you as hard as Jungkook does, or at least, five shots doesn't, but you admit you're a bit tipsy. "I'm sure someone like that will fall for you. You're like... pretty and with money."

He scoffs. "Hoseok would frown at that response. He hates when people associate him with his parents' wealth. I don't understand it."

"It's like when your family thinks you're incapable of working hard. People think he's incapable of working, too. In this case, associate him with his parents' money, and for you, they just think you won't make it out here alive because of your choices. You're both on the path of proving yourselves competent." 

There's silence between the two of you, Jungkook deep in thought. 

If Hoseok was on the same route as he was, why was Hoseok's approach entirely different? Why didn't he feel the same drive and motivation as Hoseok does, and why does it make him believe that there was another way to solve this issue? Instead of trying to make enough money to move out, he could just feed off of his parents' money and use it towards something else, earn money off of that and spend that newly collected money that was now truly his. Which brings to question, how can he hit two birds with one stone? Both introduce his parents to someone who was totally out of his league yet loved by them and demonstrate his ability to work?

Bingo. The answer is sitting right there in front of him. You.

You were a hard-working middle class citizen. From juggling two jobs to being a graduate at some University, you knew what it felt like to be poor. You hated people who bathed in wealth, especially when it's claimed to not be their own and stood for your beliefs. If Jungkook brought you home to present to his parents, they'd be so jubilant that he could imagine his stubborn, stone-cold face father doing cartwheels, mother's cheeks in pain from all the grinning, and brothers looking defeated, envied erroneously. 

"Tell me a bit more about yourself, I feel like I don't really know you." There. If he studies you enough, maybe you'd be willing to jump in on his plan. After all, he still has to determine what he can offer you in this portion of his scheme to convince you to deceive his family, especially since you seemed to be fond of both Jungsik and his mother. "... Why are you suddenly interested?"

He shrugs. "I just wanna know. Where did you go to school, why did you choose a bakey, etcetera. If I'm going to be working with you, I should probably get to know you a bit better. Maybe I'll feel more inclined to cooperate." It was like in mere seconds, Jungkook wasn't intoxicated anymore— completely sober.

So you play his little game, it wouldn't hurt, right? "Got a scholarship to study abroad, so I was in New York for a couple years. Don’t get me wrong though, since it’s the US, it wasn’t a full scholarship, but I didn’t have any other opportunities that I wanted. Then graduated with a degree in Food Science. Then parents needed some money so I had to come back right after graduation and pick up a job at your mom's supermarket, paid off their debt and now I'm just trying to pay off mine. I also needed to put some sense to my degree and well... I loved baking in my free time. It was all I did when I was stressed from exams."

"You studied in New York?" If he wasn't sober a couple minutes ago, he was now.

You nod in response, finishing the last portion of pork that sits idly on your plate. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"But you started working at the market three years ago?" He asks, the space between his brows crinkle, trying to count the months in his head. He also takes note that he's older than you and that it'd come in handy later. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I finished high school early." The sizzle of the grill dies down, the ventilator shutting off from the lack of smoke. "I jumped a couple grades."

"A... couple grades. A couple grades, it doesn't sound like just 'a couple,' you literally graduated college at the age of what... fifteen?" He heaves, completely taken aback by this new information. "And then graduated college at eighteen? Yet you're working at a grocery store and some coffee shop when you could be running an entire company." 

"Well, when you say it like that—"

"Okay, I have a proposition for you. Let's date." You nearly choke on the water you're drinking. "What?"

"Fake date, really. Be my fake girlfriend. You're a year younger than me, got a college degree at eighteen with attainable aspirations that I could cater to once my parents give me access to their money again. The entirety of this conversation is only giving me more reasons to invest in our relationship, to invest in you, and it'll benefit me in return." You squint your eyes at him suspiciously, but he continues. "My mom already likes you. Jungsik even thinks you're too good for me and that there's no way that you'd ever date me. If you actually did, imagine the look on his face!"

"Jungkook," You sigh, running your fingers through your loosen strands of hair. "I don't know. This seems wrong, lying to your family. They only want the best for you."

"Absolutely not. My brothers want to see me fail. If you agree to do this, I can show you what I'm talking about." 

Hesitant, you nibble on the hardened dry skin on your lips, heart racing in uneasiness. "But you'd be giving up a lot. No more flings, no more getting wasted... you'd have to be completely serious and on board if you do this. It has to be convincing. But at the same time, how long and how are we going to keep this up?"

"Maybe until you get your shop up and running so that you're able to stabilize it yourself. I'm sure that wouldn't take long anyway, and it would be a great business deal if we go through with this. You'd be out of debt, starting your own bakery, all in a shorter span of time than intended. And all you have to do is come home with me to see my parents occasionally, attend some events, hold my hand, maybe exchange a couple kisses— but nothing out of your comfort zone though, I respect boundaries."

With how his hand gestures move, and how the ideas flow from his mind so effortlessly, you could've sworn that Jungkook was a con-artist. His words were a shell of plausibles and credibility— up to the point you had to tell yourself to stop and take a breather because all this material was starting to sound reasonable, and from your lack of experience with Jungkook, he wasn't the most reliable person you've met. "I'm going to have to think about this. As great as it sounds for me, it doesn't seem like much of a character development path for you."

"But it would," he asserts, putting emphasis in the way he speaks, "I'm investing in something I believe in. A business, one that I see potential in, in a person that I see potential in."

"Jungkook, you met me last week."

"Which is why it makes it even more impactful!" He exclaims, arms thrown in the air. "I know you hate me. But you have the qualities of what would help me get myself back into the estate. I'm not even sure if I'm written out of the will yet, and I'm praying that this whole 'changing' thing won't take so long that the idea is going to be thrown out the window." 

"I really don't hate you, I just want people like you to be more aware of what's going on in the real world. They all view the lives of people like me through a sheer shower curtain with diamonds and pearls wrapped around their bodies, laughing away. It's like you don't see the problems we face everyday."

"And as much as I don't want to do that, let that be part of the deal. Get one 'ignorant' rich guy out of that stereotypical pool, and teach me how to be better. Then, I'll also be on the road to being a more... empathetic and educated man."

Puffing up your cheeks, you look away for a brief moment. “I still want some time to think about this.”

“That’s fine. But also, one more thing.” You turn your gaze to fixate back onto him. “Yeah?”

“Don’t eat alone if you don’t have to. Call me, I’ll keep you company.”

"... So I asked her to be my fake girlfriend." Jungkook ends the story of how your ‘fake love’ blossomed under the fluorescent lighting and smoke from the grill at a barbecue shack hidden in an alleyway.

Hoseok's jaw drops to the floor. "W-What?" He stutters, appalled by Jungkook's proposal for you. How could Jungkook just bring up an arrangement like that so effortlessly? Without even a second thought? "And what did she say?"

"That she needs to think about it a little more."

He sighs of relief, pushing his hair back through his fingers. "Good. Because she has a horrible history with guys. It always seems to go down in flames. I could only imagine what it means if she dated you."

"It's a fake relationship, what could possibly go wrong?"

"You might fall in love with her. Or worse, she'll fall in love with you. Literally every fanfic and romance movie trope that has to do with fake dating. Plus, imagine if she fell in love with you." He shivers at the thought.

“What’s wrong with me? Why are you making it sound like it’s the worst thing ever if she even so likes me like that? I don’t even think she’ll fall for me anyway. The mere thought of me seems to disgust her.”

Grabbing another box of cereal to restock, he rolls his eyes. "You really don’t get it, do you? It’s more like... you're not going to be serious about her if she did. You don't even know what it means to be in a committed relationship, let alone know how to handle a fake one. If she falls in love with you, she's done for. Then her guy streak really is horrible. You’re putting her in a tough spot, Jeon."

Tearing open another cardbox box full of inventory, Jungkook frowns in thought. What if you did fall in love with him? How would he go about that? Would he still invest in your business then? Taking a moment to let the ideas sink in, he’s already decided. "I'd still invest in her." He concludes. "Isn't that part of the journey? Learning how to be professional? If she falls in love with me, I'll give her space. But I still believe in her business and her goals to open one."

"But you don't even know her," Hoseok reminds him, stopping in the midst of his actions. "She really needs this. If you so much have any doubt of leaving this plan, she'll be devastated. Everything that she has worked hard for has to be halted because she trusts you. You can't play with people's lives like that."

"It's just a business," Jungkook clarifies, but Hoseok shakes his head in dismissal. "This is her life's work, Jeon. Have you even really talked to her about this? You need to either call this off or have a written contract or something because you're not only diminishing her love life, but her dreams too. So really think about this."

Jungkook slouches, body barely standing up against the shelves. “She still has time to decide. Trust me, Hobi, if she does fall in love with me, I’ll take care of her and make sure that she’ll still be able to have the business.” Hoseok eyes Jungkook in disbelief. “You found out she’s younger than you, didn’t you? I can already hear it in your tone. Don’t overlook the age, she’s still lightyears of experience ahead of both of us combined.”

unknown [6:22PM]: so, what’s the verdict? unknown [6:23PM]: my fault, it’s jungkook.

Letting out a large exhale, you shut your lids, phone in the palm of your hand after viewing the texts, allowing your body to fall against the wall behind you.

It’s another late shift at the coffee shop, one that ends around 2am before the cycle of waking up for an additional eight hours at the Jeon market. Although the bags and dark circles that begin to reside underneath your eyes are evidence to your exhaustion, gradually taking a toll on your body. The days were getting shorter, nights stretching longer, and you weren’t sure when your next day off would even be.

Then the thoughts of your loans come to mind. There was another email sent to your mailbox, reading that the next bill was approaching and due soon, causing the weight on your shoulders to inflate. If only the figurative load built your muscles because then you’d be able to pick up a job on a construction site, possibly making a bit more money than you do now with both jobs combined.

You glance at Jungkook’s text again. 

The belief that you were independent goes out the window if you cave into Jungkook’s premise. You were practically selling your body at that point... but your personality was part of the package as well. Then there was the lying— you admit, being yourself around the Jeons was easy, but having to lie to them about dating Jungkook seemed... difficult. They were relatively smart people, what if they’re able to see right through your act? And what about Jungkook’s past? Would it continue to haunt you during the relationship?

For instance, what about the women he dated? Rephrase: slept with. There’s pretty much a guarantee that scandals would arise with the announcement that Jungkook was going steady with someone who wasn’t an aristocrat, a child of money. What about you stood out that Jungkook would fall for you to convince other people that you were good enough to be part of their world?

But you go back to your debt.

The biggest regret yet also your biggest accomplishment was going to college in New York.

The expansion of knowledge you were able to obtain during your years there was irreplaceable. If anything, really, it molded you to the person you are today. But at the same time, the debt was like a dark, rainy cloud that followed you around wherever you went. 

Having to plan your every expense week by week was draining. 

Declining meetings with friends because you couldn’t afford to pay for your portion of the meal, let alone for everyone else.

Jungsik offering to pay for dinner despite your inclination to decline and pay for yourself was a blessing. Veritably thankful that he didn’t take your ‘no’ as answer and left his credit card, if you were being completely honest, you wouldn’t have picked that location if you knew he wasn’t going to pay for it. It’s been a while since you were able to afford KBBQ.

You weren’t poor, no, or at least, you believed yourself not to be. Just... all your money seemed to go toward your debt and savings account for the bakery.

Feeling demoralized, you’re tempted to text Jungkook to let him know you’re surrendering, but he beats you to it.

unknown [6:30PM]: i just want to be able to help the both of us. you can lead the relationship, i’ll follow. i know how much your independence means to you, so... i’ll bottom. unknown [6:31PM]: be mine? you [6:31PM]: 🏳️ (white flag)

Sliding your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans, you make your way back behind the counter with two girls who studied at the university nearby, giggling and slapping each other’s arms elatedly. You’re slightly envious of their lighthearted laughter, wishing that you could do so freely without this heavy feeling in your chest, yet you push those feelings aside anyway, a smile tugging on the edges of your lips. “What are you two laughing about?”

“Jiwoo has a crush!” Injae exclaims, pushing the aforementioned girl to the side with a cackle. “She saw him working at the supermarket you worked at the other day and I swore I saw her staring at him in awe, a river of drool coming out of her mouth. Should’ve put a wet floor sign—“

“Injae!” Jiwoo whines, bottom lip jutting out. “Stop embarrassing me in front of Unnie. She probably thinks we’re immature.” Not really. You kind of wished you had a crush too. The butterflies in your stomach, hands palmy and cheeks flushed pink. Eagerness to see the person; each touched exchange making your heart race faster... “Who’s the guy?”

Injae glances over at you mischievously as you watch her prepare to get hit by Jiwoo. “Jeon Jungkook—” Slap slap slap. Injae’s arm is definitely going to be red tomorrow morning if not right now. But oh, Jungkook? The one you just agreed to date about 5 minutes ago over text?

“I think he has a girlfriend.” You respond uneasily, chewing on the nail of your thumb anxiously. “Who?”

“Hey,” The three of you turn to the customer, quickly straightening your postures and aprons until your eyes meet his, halting your breath. Jungkook has a knack for timing because there he stands, hair disheveled from probably rushing over, in a grey hoodie and baby blue jeans with tears at the knees. “What’s good here?” Yet his gaze doesn’t shift from you. Legs rooted into the ground, mouth parted in surprise, you finally shake yourself out of ice before clearing your throat. The girls seem to be just as stunned as you are because they haven’t moved an inch.

“Cold brew is my personal favorite. But if you want a safe option, americano is great too.” Logging into the iPad, you’re ready to tap in his order but grabs onto your wrist and you grimace. “Can we talk?”

“... You could just say that and not grab me, Jeon. Not everything has to be a K-Drama moment.” In all honesty, you were kind of embarrassed of the girls knowing your newly found relationship with Jungkook. He was definitely not your kind of guy, his brother Jungsik probably being closest to your ideal type and even the girls knew that.

Sitting by the window and across from Jungkook with your fingers tapping against the plastic cup with your cold brew inside, he continues to observe your face briefly while drinking a sip of the americano. You don’t even take a second to look at him, rather your attention is glued to the crescent moon out the window. “White flag? That’s all you can say?”

“How did you want me to respond?”

“Yes or no? Are you usually such a dry texter?” He rebuttals, prepared for anything you throw his way. He’s learning, you take note, because he usually just stands there dumbfounded whenever you’d shoot back with a response.

“Yes, it means yes, I surrender and I agree to your terms. We can date, I’ll be your girlfriend, you can be my boyfriend, blah blah.”

“Not my terms,” He says, rephrasing his text. “Your terms. You’re leading this relationship, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable just because I suggested the idea. I’m not a jackass, you know. I don’t even sleep with women who say no.”

“Are you supposed to get a ‘congrats’ or reward for that? Because that’s the bare minimum, Jeon.”

“You know what I mean,” He retorts back. “I respect women.”

“But lead them on and sleep with them even though you know that you don’t want a relationship with them but they want a relationship with you—“

“Now I have you.” Jungkook interrupts firmly. “I’m having a serious, committal relationship with you. No more of those girls anymore.” You nearly felt your heart swell out of your chest cavity but you remember that he’s just saying it to convince you to date him, despite the fact that you’ve already agreed to it.

“I don’t get where you’re going with this conversation. If you got the answer you wanted and expected to hear, I’m leaving. I’m still on the clock, you know.”

“Quit then.” You scoff at his swift resolution. He’s too impulsive. “I can’t just quit. I need the money.”

“I said I’d help you pay for those things, did you already forget? That’s what this arrangement is all about.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stand from your seat, snatching your drink along with you. “In case you forgot, you don’t have the money yet. I agreed to be your girlfriend, happy?” He looks like a puppy with his round eyes peering through his shaggy hair, grin stretching from cheek to cheek. “I am. This means you have to let me do boyfriend things for you.”

“Fine.” You respond through your gritted teeth. Truth be told, you want him out of the café as soon as possible because the college kids behind the counter were starting to whisper. “But you still have to treat this professionally when we’re at work.”

“Deal, love.” His teeth are peeking from his excitement. You squint your eyes at him. “Jungkook.” You warn.

“You’re at work, I’m not.”

You’re going to strangle him.

Walking out of the supermarket after another long night shift, you’re stuck between Jungkook and Hoseok as they exchange stories of parties they previously attended, emitting a sigh from you.

“Tired of our old shenanigans, baby?” Jungkook teases, tugging on the sleeve of your jacket. Hoseok shoots Jungkook a glare. “You’re going to die tonight if you keep that up, man. She’s scary when she’s mad.”

“Oh please. She likes it when I play around.” The innocent smile on his face makes you want to punch it in. “No,” Hoseok says, pulling Jungkook over to his side and looping his arm with yours. “She’s hungry. Let’s go tame this beast.”

Jungkook just stares.

The three of you are at a 24 hour convenience store just outside his house, three bowls of ramen prepped at the table while you all sit on the stools provided. “What’s this? How was it made so fast?”

“It’s ramen, dumbass,” You hiss, breaking the wooden chopsticks that Jungkook watches in reverence. “It’s literally called instant ramen. You’ve never had it before?”

“I’ve had ramen in Japan.”

“Oh, dude, you’re going to be so disappointed when you have this then.” Hoseok laughs then winces when you kick his shin underneath the table. Gesturing the bowl and Jungkook to Hoseok, he frowns, tearing the paper wrapping off the chopsticks and hands to the younger male. “Do what she just did. Break it.”

“Break... this? Chopsticks? Who invented these?”

“Does it matter?” You chime in. “Just break it. Hurry up, we’re trying to show you how this works so we can eat. Why are you acting like an alien? You’ve seen chopsticks before.”

“Well, honestly, at the Jeon estate, we only use—“

“Fuck what you use at the Jeon estate. We’re at the...” Turning to look at the sign above the store, you point to the logo. “... KTH 24 CONVENIENCE. They’re telling us to quickly break our chopsticks so we can go nomnom.” Rapidly, he attempts to snap the chopsticks, only for it to crack unevenly and you stifle a laugh.

“... Good try,” Hoseok shakes his head, tearing the rest of the lid off of the bowl. “Maybe you’ll be better next time. You’re stuck with your screw up now, but least you can still enjoy your shitty bowl of ramen noodles.”

Jungkook swallows. The sight of the noodles floating in soup that looks painfully diluted with water, the aroma from the bowl was still alluring. Stirring the soup, he finally picks up a portion with his wonky chopsticks, blowing on it before taking a bite.

It’s... actually not bad.

“How is it?” Your voice is calmer and much more soothing than it had been a minute ago, but he makes the assumption that it’s because you’ve finally gotten food in your stomach. He takes note of this for future reference. “Oddly enough, not bad. I kind of like it.”

“Well, get used to it. It’s cheap and efficient. You’re part of the broke squad now, Jungkook.”

Broke Squad. Feels nice to be part of something.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gyukultfics

[itsclydebitches]

I was once more thinking of vol 8 and other works to compare it to. I hit Harry Potter, specifically Order of the Phoenix. Literally all that happened there showed a much better "proactive Hero" and "Big Bad vs Big Good" battle that it feels unfair to compare. What say you Clyde?

It's been a very long time since I read Order of the Phoenix, but putting aside that and the series' problems with representation (something that always feels like it needs to be acknowledged when discussing HP nowadays), Rowling did a good job of setting up both motivation and justification for Harry's actions. Which isn't to say that he was never wrong — quite the opposite, especially in OotP — but that Harry's involvement in this war is justified in a way that Ruby's involvement is not. He's not just generally active (no tea sipping equivalent scenes), but we understand why he's the one taking that action.

Harry is an unwilling participant forced to fight due to a prophecy, so when he stumbles along the way, we as the reader are understanding because jeez, what else what he supposed to do? Literally no one else can do this and he's trying his best. Ruby, in contrast, is not necessary to this fight. We might have gotten that with her silver eyes, but we didn't, so when Ruby willingly steps up — or, in Volume 8, forcibly takes control — and then gets upset because things didn't go well, the viewer (or at least some viewers: us) are far less forgiving because she demanded this responsibility and then found she didn't like having it. When Harry rushes off to the Department of Mysteries, endangering many of his friends in the process (even if they volunteered) we understand that this action is done out of love. We've spent five books establishing Harry's desire for a family, it's literally his greatest wish according to the Mirror of Erised, so going after Sirius, while reckless, is such an in-character, relatable, human decision. It's integral to who Harry is as a person. Compare that to the lack of work done surrounding Summer and the unanswered question of why Ruby is fighting Salem. Because it's the right thing to do? Great, fantastic, but uh... that doesn't really explain or justify why she's leading the charge when all these other huntsmen — with the same goals, more experience, better plans, etc. —are trying to do The Right Thing too. When thinking about HP vs. RWBY, my mind always goes back to that moment at the end of the first book when Harry tries to tell McGonagall about the stone and she brushes him off. "Ah," I thought later. "That's why three 11yos are going off to save the magical artifact when there are adult, full-fledged wizards around to do it instead. The kids tried to turn hand this off to the adults and the adults failed them." Now, combine this with Harry's growing tendency to go it alone, the implication that Dumbledore may have been allowing him to face certain threats to get stronger, each book's individual situation like a hidden chamber that only Harry can enter, his Godfather being on the run, a magically binding contract that keeps him in a competition because the bad guys are specifically after him... Harry is at the heart of the story. He's integral to it, his part in the fight inevitable, so all that's left is to see how he bears that burden.

Ruby is not integral to this fight, her presence and even her silver eyes are not necessary, her facing down Salem is only inevitable from a meta perspective regarding expectations for a protagonist (and then, in Volume 8, Ruby didn't face her.) There's no clear personal motivation to drive her. There's not even a Guardian's of the Galaxy-esque motivation in the form of, "We'll step up because no one else will." Others do keep stepping up and Ruby keeps forcing them to follow her instead, insisting that her way is better. Only problem is, it's arguably not and that's when she has a plan at all. It's like if instead of going after the stone because his professors won't, or going after Sirius because he loves him, or going after Voldemort because a prophecy and a life of having a saving-people-thing has pushed him to that, Harry made his way to the front of this war Just Because, rejecting everyone else who fought in the first war, has more experience, and actual plans along the way. Why does he do this? Because his name is in the title of the book, I guess.

RWBY throws in lost of classic ideas and setups, but doesn't seem to understand their point. Even something as simple as that Big Bad vs. Big Good conflict in Volume 8. Putting aside how muddied this has gotten between the Gods' involvement and Salem's dip in the grimm pool, Volume 8 took the threat of our Big Bad arriving with an army and... ignored it. Instead, they ran with Ironwood as the primary antagonist of the volume, the guy trying to stop Salem, a previously established ally, the guy who just gave up his arm to capture another clear-cut villain, and who throughout Volume 7 demonstrated none of the manipulation we would attribute to a Dumbledore-like figure. Rather than running with their Big Bad's arrival, RWBY asked how they could force one of the good guys to become a bad guy instead, hence the sudden shooting of Oscar and murder of the councilman. This is a far from perfect comparison (and I take my virtual life in my hands bringing up another controversial character lol), but it's a little like if after we learned about which side Snape was truly on, he suddenly tried to kill Hermione, succeeded in killing a minor character like Professor Flitwick, and then made plans to destroy all of Hogwarts. Meanwhile, everyone is ignoring Voldemort standing on the front lawn because the narrative randomly made Snape the biggest problem instead. So a lot of the fanbase is like, "Yeah he's absolutely a dick and his horrific past/contentious choices are the point of his character... but he's also supposed to be one of the good guys at the end of the day? And the Big Bad is right there? We can argue about how 'good' Snape is until we're blue in the face, but he's no Voldemort. Why did you feel the need to chuck the morally gray character off the deep end for our heroes to oppose when our primary antagonist is literally right here, trying to kill them?" From this, to introducing a dead mother that in no way motivates our cast, to having Oscar face down Salem with an improvised weapon instead of Ruby with her eyes, to giving Penny an arc about accepting her android body only to rip it away, etc. etc. RWBY continuously throws out ideas without understanding what they're meant to accomplish. There's a lot to criticize about Harry Potter nowadays, but a lack of logical development isn't one of them.

And just to chuck in another text — because I too think about what has done Volume 8 themes better lol — consider: Loki. Stop reading now if you don't want spoilers, but a couple episodes in Loki and Sylvie end up on a dying planet that is only evacuating the rich. That's said overtly in both the dialogue and visually in the mise-en-scene, with poor people screaming that only the rich are getting tickets for the rocket and elaborately dressed elites enjoying the comforts of that ride. Then, just as they're about to escape, leaving the rest of their world behind, a piece of the moon hits the ship, either killing them instantly or stranding them with the people they abandoned. And I thought to myself, "See, this makes sense in a way RWBY never did." Evacuation was never about wealth in RWBY, despite what the fandom continually claims. Ironwood was trying to evacuate everyone and only stopped because they all assumed Salem would be killing them momentarily. This situation included Relics and a Maiden that would easily turn the tide of the war, meaning their safety influenced the whole world, not just these people. Mantle was not necessarily about to be destroyed — indeed, we find out later that Salem had no interest in it — and it was always a bad faith (and OOC) assumption that Ironwood was leaving his kingdom for good. The story doesn't even acknowledge the huge number of Mantle citizens already on Atlas when the attack begins. I was just sitting there thinking, "This two episode mini conflict in an insane show with alligators and time shenanigans somehow holds up better than RWBY's 27 episodes that are trying to be deep. How does that happen?"

#rwde #rwby #Harry Potter #HP #mymetas

[digitalstowaway]

No Winners: Chapter Three (Mia & Miles AU)

Read on AO3 | After failing to win a guilty verdict at his first trial, Edgeworth is denounced as von Karma's protege. Mia finds him, alone and traumatized, and decides that befriending him is like picking up a lost, wounded puppy on the side of the road. But it turns out they're connected in more ways than Terry Fawles' death. 

--

It was Friday afternoon by the time Lana knocked on Miles’ front door, holding a thermos of soup and smiling. 

Miles stood in his doorway, squinting at her. He wore his pajamas still—a comfortable set of flannel bottoms and a large t-shirt that hung off of his scrawny frame—and his hair was ruffled and messy. Lana could see how it stuck up in the back while the fringe had become frizzy and laid flat against his face. 

“I thought I’d check up on you,” Lana said. “And bring you soup.” 

“That was… thoughtful.” His voice was hoarse, and it sounded like he strained to get the few words out.

He would have looked adorable if there wasn’t a worrying flush to his face and glassiness over his eyes. But he did look younger than Lana had ever seen him. And smaller. If Lana didn’t know any better, she would have assumed he was a teenager taking a day off school. 

She just had to take care of him. She couldn’t leave a sick child home alone. 

“Mind if I come in?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Lana pushed past him and was walking into the house. His home was cute but definitely belonged to a 20-year-old boy. There was hardly any decor, and all of the curtains were drawn shut—though, the latter could have been due to the poor thing looking like he had just crawled out of bed—leaving the rooms to be dark and stuffy. The kitchen was bare, most notably. The only items on the countertops were an electric kettle and decorative containers that Lana suspected held nothing in them.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Miles asked, standing behind her as she unscrewed the top of the thermos. 

“If you don’t eat the soup now, it’ll get cold.” 

If I don’t watch you eat right now, I don’t think you’ll eat at all. 

“I’m capable of taking care of myself.” 

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter if you’re capable of it or not, it’s just nice to have someone with you.” 

She began rifling through his cabinets. She was happy to see full sets of plates and bowls and cups. She wasn’t very happy to see, though, the lack of food on his shelves. 

She motioned for him to sit at his island. He did, looking like he was obeying the command of a superior. 

“I can make you tea as well,” Lana said, pouring out the soup in front of him. 

“Are you always in the habit of inviting yourself into people’s homes and invading their kitchens?” 

“I’ve been known to do so on occasion. But usually, people are more accepting of it than you because I’m also known to be a good cook.” 

Miles looked down at his soup. He stirred it, mixing up the vegetables and noodles in a whirlpool, and then set his spoon down.

He was tucked into himself, arms discreetly wrapped around his middle. Lana recognized the position as someone who couldn’t stomach the thought of food. 

And all of her forged maternal instincts that came from taking care of Ema rushed forward. Really, a 12-year-old girl and Miles Edgeworth couldn’t be too different to look after.  

Lana pressed her hand to his forehead. He allowed it, closing his eyes. 

“You’re really warm,” she sighed. “Do you have a thermometer?” 

Miles shook his head. Lana tutted. 

“Do you have cold medicine? Or any medicine?” 

“I have aspirin.” 

He was barely old enough to take aspirin. Lana prided herself on her knowledge of over-the-counter meds, and she clearly remembered the warning label on the back of the aspirin bottles to not give any to a person under 20. And god, the kid was just old enough to take such a simple drug? He was just entering the final stages of his coming of age?  

Lana had had a thought or two upon first meeting Miles that he was truly too young to be in a prosecutor’s office. Not for the uptight, snooty reasons her colleagues had. But because she couldn’t bear to think of the toll it would take on someone so young—so bent on perfection. 

“Do you have anything else?” she asked.

Miles shook his head. His eyebrows raised as if he was in trouble and scared of being scolded. It was always the subtle things that made Lana worry.  

“Well, lucky for you, I carry everything in my purse.” 

As she dug through her purse for her trusty bottle of acetaminophen, he coughed harshly into his elbow. It sounded worse than the night before. Like his lungs were trying to come up his throat. He winced and grimaced and struggled to breathe through it. Lana forgot about the pills and pulled out her phone. 

“I’m going to have Mia pick up a few things for you,” she said. 

“No—”

“Miles, you’re not going to get better like this. I’ll have her drop off something for your cough and a thermometer at some point today, okay?” 

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure you finish your soup.” 

—

By the time Mia arrived with a little bag from the pharmacy, Lana was waiting in the doorway with her phone in hand. She tried to smile when Mia met her, but she looked tired and worried. 

“Is he okay?” Mia asked. 

She tried not to care. People got the flu. People lived through the flu. Miles was going to be fine in a week. 

“He’s in rough shape,” Lana said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.” 

Mia passed her the bag with the highly specific requested items inside. Two types of cough syrup—antitussives and expectorants. Whatever those were. Lana had said a balance of both was necessary. A bottle of acetaminophen and another of ibuprofen. There was something about alternating between the two that wasn’t explained well over text. And cough drops (of which Mia had bought three kinds), acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and a thermometer. Any thermometer, Lana told Mia. 

The shopping list had been followed by a notification that Lana had sent Mia more than enough money to cover it all. There was a note in the money-sharing app that said and buy yourself something nice ;) xo Lana 

It had been a nice break from her anxiety-ridden text messages. Mia had bought herself a pack of gum and two lollipops.

“That’s for you,” Mia said when Lana pulled out the second lollipop. 

“How sweet,” Lana said. 

“Can I see him? I want to look at the scary prodigy all sick.” 

“Yeah, but be quiet. He just fell asleep.” Lana led her in. “Why do you want to see him like this?” 

“Blackmail. In case he ever tries pulling something, I’ll have a picture of him all snotty and gross.” 

“Mia, don’t take a picture of him.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s mean. And isn’t your whole thing being anti-blackmail?” 

This was different. There would be no one to truly show the picture to. And Miles would catch on to that. The threat would be superficial and empty. 

The living room was dark and quiet, and Mia nearly missed Miles on the couch. He was curled up under a blanket, blending into the upholstery. But looking closer, Mia could see how pale his face was and the light layer of sweat covering his forehead.

Lana unpacked the pharmacy bag on the coffee table, careful to not make a sound to disturb Miles. But he woke himself up anyway, his uneasy breathing turning into a coughing fit. A hand emerged from the blanket, and a crumpled tissue in his fist was pressed to his mouth. His cough sounded awful. Mia nearly gagged in sympathy when she heard something deep in his lungs get stirred up. 

“Miles, Mia brought you some stuff,” Lana said. “Can you take your temperature real quick?” 

She assembled the thermometer. Mia had picked one up with multiple tips in hopes that the fancier it looked, the better it would work. 

Lana handed the thermometer over, and Miles laid it under his tongue. Mia was surprised by the lack of fuss he made, and he did close his eyes immediately and seemed close to sleep by the time the thermometer beeped. 

Lana slid it out of his mouth for him as a mother would. 

“103.5,” she read. 

Mia grimaced. That wasn’t good at all. 

Miles’ eyes opened, but they didn’t react to what Lana had said. Instead, they fell on Mia with a glare nastier than what he usually served. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“I delivered you half of a pharmacy,” Mia said, gesturing to the table. “Be grateful.” 

Lana interrupted them. “Miles, if your fever gets much higher, I think I’m going to take you to a hospital.” 

And the glare towards Mia immediately changed to a scared look to Lana. He shook his head. 

“I’m fine,” he said. 

“But if you get any worse, I think you’ll need help and there’s no clinics open at this hour. It doesn’t sound like you’re breathing very well, either.”

It didn’t. Every other intake of breath was raspy.  

Miles shook his head again. Lana sat next to him on the couch and brushed his hair back from his face. It was absolutely out of character to allow himself to be coddled in such a way. 

How childish he looked, Mia thought. He certainly always carried the air of a brat, but he had never looked so small. So helpless. So in need of a person like Lana Skye. 

“Only if you get worse, okay?” Lana said. “And Mia brought you a lot of medicine, so hopefully you start feeling better by tonight.” 

But Miles still looked scared, and Mia wondered what his damage was with hospitals. Not that anyone particularly liked having to go into hospitals. They were genuinely acknowledged as places no one ever wanted to be. 

“Let’s try to get this cough under control first,” Lana said and reached for one of the bottles of cough syrup. 

Hours passed, and Mia stayed. She felt bad about leaving Lana alone with the possibility of Miles needing to be taken to a hospital hanging in the air. 

It was also nice to see Lana mother Miles, waking him so often to take a different pill or to press the thermometer into his mouth one more time. When she wasn’t doting on the prosecutor, they snuck into the kitchen to talk like children. 

“He really needs a doctor,” Lana said. “But it’ll be best if I can get him to a clinic tomorrow instead of putting him through the emergency room tonight.”

 “You’d go with him?”

“Do you think he could drive himself?” 

Mia rocked against the countertop. “No.” 

“Then, I’d have to go with him. Or someone would have to go with him, and I don’t really see anyone else lining up to escort him.” 

Lana picked up her phone and, looking over her shoulder, Mia could see her texting Ema and then Damon Gant. One a reassuring conversation and the other a semi-desperate beg to ask anyone at all if they could do her a favor. 

“You know,” Mia said, “if someone needs to watch Ema tonight, I can do it.” 

Lana looked up, perhaps embarrassed that she had been caught in such weakness. “Would you?” 

“Unless you need someone to wrangle Miles to the hospital.” 

Lana smiled. “We’ll see which child needs the most supervision. But if I did ask you to watch Ema tonight, you wouldn’t mind?” 

“Of course not. I have nothing better to do.” 

“And if I asked you to help me get Miles to a hospital?” 

Mia tilted her head back. She had little reason to say no. “Sure.” 

— 

As the sun was finally setting, coughing turned to choking. 

Miles struggled to pull himself up. He rested on his elbows, his head bowed, coughing too hard to take in any fulfilling breaths. 

Lana tugged him up so that he was sitting against her. His shoulders heaved and with his coughs, small strings of bile spilled from his mouth. 

“Can you get towels please?” Lana asked Mia. 

Mia ran down the halls until she found a closet and stacks of towels. It was an unnecessarily large house for one kid. Mia had a one-bedroom apartment with barely enough room to accommodate Maya when she visited. And there was Miles living in a house with, if Mia counted right as she passed them, two bathrooms and a bedroom on the first floor alone. 

But she couldn’t be mad at him if his sleazy mentor gave him the money to buy the house. If anything, it was good for Miles to keep whatever that man had already given him. 

Mia grabbed all the hand towels and wash clothes she could, wetting a few down, and ran back to the sitting room where Lana was trying to keep Miles up. 

“It’s okay,” she was repeating, and Mia could hear Miles mumbling apologies as she handed over the towels. 

Lana got to work cleaning up his face and then his clothes. Miles’ thin hands were limp on his lap, only being moved by Lana to scrub at the bile that hand landed on his sweatpants. 

“Do you want to change?” Lana asked. 

Miles shook his head. He was usually so pristine, Mia was surprised he didn’t want a fresh pair of clothes. 

“Okay. We can lay back down for now.” Lana helped him shuffle around until he was lying back down. 

She covered him with his blanket again and left one of the damp cloths over his forehead. Mia stood awkwardly off to the side. 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Lana said. 

“If you want me to watch Ema now, I can,” she said.

“I don’t know. I think I should really get Miles to a hospital, but I think it’ll take at least the two of us to get him anywhere.” 

“Is there anyone else who can watch Ema?” 

Lana didn’t say anything. Mia didn’t know many people who could really be left alone with a child. Not any that could be called at the last minute. 

“What about Diego?” she asked. 

“Ema’s never met Diego before. I’ve barely met Diego.” 

“Yeah, but he’d probably be willing to stay with her for the night. He mentioned to me once that he likes kids.” 

“Miles is a kid, and he doesn’t seem to like him.” 

“Miles is 20.” 

“I’m 20,” Miles agreed sleepily. 

“And Ema isn’t Miles,” Mia said. ��She’s… less difficult.” 

“Okay,” Lana said. “If he doesn’t mind, tell him I can give him our house key if he meets us here and helps us get Miles into my car.” 

Mia didn’t hesitate to grab her phone and begin texting Diego, her newest message harshly juxtaposing her previous, half-flirty ones. Miles whined next to her, telling Lana that he would be okay. That he didn’t need to go anywhere. And Lana gently cooed to him that it would be alright. He needed more help than she could give him, and she and Mia would stay with him. 

Mia didn’t remember when she volunteered to stay with Miles in the hospital. She thought that she would be there long enough to get him inside and moved on from the waiting room before going back to her own apartment. She watched Miles cough into his pillow and Lana brush his damp hair back from his forehead and knew that she was well past the point of any further negotiations.

#mia & miles au #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #mia fey #lana skye #my fics #no winners #finally chapter three!!!

[hiddendreamer67]

Giant Mers are Good Mers

That's right, it's MerMay baby! Introducing my new bois. Caspian is a giant siren with influences of Mediterranean monk seals and leopard seals. Beckett is a lil' human who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. This piece is a completed oneshot, but I've got a couple ideas for more oneshots with this pairing, including a few ideas for alternate universes (especially after seeing all the fun @ibis-gt seems to be having with AUs of their bois).

Word count: 6,001

Initial prompt idea: human was taken by a giant siren but then let go (on a whim / siren got bored) but human doesn’t know why they were spared so they come back to thank the siren. The siren doesn’t even remember doing that because it was such an insignificant event to them, but now it’s interesting because humans never came on their own.

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

Beckett had always been a simple fellow. He grew up in WhiteBridge, on a small town farm with his three older sisters picking on him ceaselessly. While he loved WhiteBridge and its quaint charms, Beck found his true passion in books, and studied at Oxford for several years before scouring the globe for his passion. In his quest for knowledge, Beckett chose to join a month-long excursion out at sea, and found himself regretting that decision a few weeks later.

“Steady on there.” One of the sailors, Michelle, handed him a pair of earplugs. “You’ll need these where we’re going.”

Beckett eyed the little pieces of foam dubiously. “And just where might that be?”

“Siren territory.”

Beck hardly believed in such fairy tales, but to calm the sailor’s superstitions he inserted the plugs as instructed. Siren tales aside, Beckett found himself growing as twitchy as the sailors. The coastline hadn’t been visible for ages due to a large amount of fog accumulation. The stormy skies were foreboding as well, indicating that proper precautions would need to be taken. This far north, the weather reports often indicated rocky waves far beyond what should be normal.

Would Beckett sink, out here in the middle of nowhere? Was that to be his fate? The young man began to fret, hastening to make himself useful as the first rolls of thunder sounded off and the waves grew steadily higher.

And then, he heard it. Beckett paused, arms slack on the rope as he attempted to hear that haunting melody. Was the weather playing tricks on him, or was someone calling out to him.

“BECK! EARS!”

Beckett blinked, stunned to find himself standing on the slippery railing. When did he get up here? Beck hastened to climb down, noticing the rest of the crew had their hands firmly clasped over their ears, even with the ear plugs inserted.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Even with the double protection, the voice grew in volume, its booming voice penetrating into their heads. Every single person on board fell victim to its call, the ship’s captain turning the wheel to head towards the beckoning beast. Beckett climbed back up to the railing, plunging overboard into the crashing waves.

With a sputter, Beckett fought to keep his breath, legs kicking desperately against the current. Even in his desperate survival state, the voice called to him, and instinctively Beckett swam in the right direction to answer its call.

Every time the voice paused to take a breath, Beck would regain control for only a moment, his heart pounding as his fate flashed before his eyes with nothing to be done about it. Between one blink and the next, the sky grew darker, a looming shape breaching in the distance. Another blink, and Beckett’s face lost all complexion staring up at his demise.

A great sea serpent, half man half beast, towered with its human half over the pitiful human. With a single shift of its body, the beast created waves that threatened to pull Beck under. Those sharp features and piercing blue eyes were unforgettable, and subconsciously Beck realized this was the last face he would ever see.

Another blink. This time, when the serpent let out a hum, Beckett remained conscious but still out of his own control. His body was lax but his mind manic. The siren reached for him, slimy claws surrounding his form and making Beck shudder as he was raised 50 feet in the air in seconds. Beckett whimpered, coughing out sea water as his gaze was drawn down to the siren’s lips. The creature grinned and revealed its razor-sharp fangs. Taking a deep breath in, the siren revealed the cavernous depths beyond as it prepared to inhale its next meal.

Beckett pleaded nonsense pitifully, tears pouring down his cheeks as the haunting nothingness washed over his mind yet again. Would he even wake once more? Was the beast merciful enough to let Beckett go in his sleep?

When Beckett woke up, he thought he was dead.

He squinted, the sun too bright for his eyes. The sun? What happened to the storm? Stranger yet, the water that had soaked him to the bone was no more. Beck was dry, wrapped in blankets in a stranger’s bed.

“You’re awake.”

Beckett turned his head, his sore muscles protesting the movement. Beside him sat an older looking fellow, hair greying with age. “Who’re you?”

“The name’s Seymour.” Seymour introduced himself. “And who’re you?”

“Beck.” Beckett’s voice felt like he hadn’t spoken in days. “Am I dead?”

“No, but you tried awful hard.” Seymour assured him. “Found you passed out on the shore two days ago. Guessin’ you were part of some shipwreck? Though there wasn’t much wreckage to be found. Awfully impressive for you to have swam that far.”

Is that what happened? Beck frowned, trying to parse out the details. His body ached something terrible. He did remember swimming for a great distance. Had the siren all been a strange vision of his adrenaline-infused thoughts?

“...huh.” Beck settled back into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

“Well that, or an angel saved you.” Seymour chuckled. “You’re one lucky soul.”

Beck squinted in thought. If that’s what angels looked like, he could understand why all biblical depictions had humans cowering in fear.

(...was it an angel?)

Beckett spent some of the most confusing weeks of his life recovering from the shipwreck. Even as his physical form healed, Beck couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the events that transpired that night. He couldn’t get the notion out of his head that the giant sea serpent was real. It had all felt so lifelike, the claws and the fish breath and the dark melodious tones that haunted his dreams…

Seymour was kind enough to open his home to Beck, offering the traumatized lad a position maintaining his lighthouse while Beckett still fought to gather his wits. “Yer’ not the first.” Seymour assured him with a chuckle. “It’s no water off my back if you want to keep me company while you figure things out.”

You’re not the first. Beckett had cleared his throat, wanting to address that thought. “The other people who wash up on shore… did they ever… see anything?”

Seymour raised a patient eyebrow. “What do you mean, seen? Figure you lot have all seen a lot, what with the wreckage.”

“No, I mean, out at sea.” Beck felt foolish, twiddling his thumbs a bit. “Like a… like a merman.”

To his credit, Seymour did nothing more than a slow blink. “A merman.” He repeated.

“But, not a regular merman.” Beck winced at his own words. Just what was a regular merman? “A big one, like a hundred feet long, and pale white skin, and white locks of hair, and piercing blue eyes-”

“Kid.” Seymour cut him off. “I’ll tell it to ya straight. No, I ain’t ever heard nothing like that.”

Today, Beckett found himself on the cliffside, safely back from the edge as he watched the distant waves. His knees were tucked up to his chest, chin atop them as Beck sat lost in thought. Somewhere out there, Beckett’s giant captor- and later savior- was out there.

Why did the beast let him go? Even further than that, the siren had gone out of its way to give Beck a chance at life. There’s no way Beckett could have made it all the way to the shore on his own, disoriented as he had been.

Despite his better judgement, Beckett had to know the truth. With this foolish notion in mind, Beck set out a few months later, having rented a boat from one of the local fishermen. It took a lot of practice for Beckett to learn how to guide such a vessel, as every crest of a wave made the poor lad jump.

Seymour must think he was mad. Often the kind old man reminded Beckett that he didn’t have to conquer his fear of the waves directly, but Beck had just shook his head. Seymour couldn’t understand the debt Beck felt to the creature that had saved his life, and his curiosity kept him captive. Beckett wouldn’t be free until he had answers.

Of course, once he was out on the waters, Beck realized how foolish of a plan this truly was- he knew nothing about aquatic navigation. Every part of the ocean looked the same to him. Even worse, his memories of the last sea journey were extremely muddled. How on earth was he going to find the same location?

And even as Beck drifted in waters that may or may not be similar, the human realized he had no surefire way of gaining the siren’s attention. He settled for calling out often, hoping his carrying voice would be enough. Did the beast understand english? It was deceptively human-looking.

Beckett’s throat grew parched, and Beck sat down a moment to take careful sips of water from his dwindling bottle. The sky was growing darker, and a familiar fog had begun to roll in. An eerie chill began to creep up the back of Beckett’s neck. Suddenly, this plan wasn’t feeling so wise.

That’s when he heard it. The familiar song of his dreams was echoing across the water. Beck had forgotten the feeling, his limbs stiffening against his will like a marionette pulled taunt.

Blink. A gigantic fish tail, just the tip cresting the waves. Blink. Beckett found himself in the waves, gasping as he kicked frantically to keep his head above water. Blink. All too soon, Beck found himself clasped between those claws, water dripping from his locks as he stared at those terrifying chompers.

Oh god. This was a terrible idea. What should he do? What was there to do? All the blood left Beckett’s face, watching the siren lick its lips. It raised Beck higher, dangling the human by the back of his shirt above a now gaping maw. Beckett let out an unholy screech, realizing he had made a terrible mistake.

Beckett squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the words out of his lungs before he never got the chance again. “WHY DID YOU SPARE ME?!”

To Beck’s great relief, he didn’t find himself lowered onto the beast’s tongue. Instead, after the longest pause of Beckett’s life, he opened his eyes to see the siren’s mouth had gone slack.

“What?”

Beck’s eyebrows shot up into his scalp, shocked to hear the siren actually speak. Guess that meant it understood english, too. Beckett cautiously raised his gaze, meeting the siren’s eyes instead of its teeth. The creature looked confused, to say the least.

“You-” Beck cleared his throat, knowing he had to keep the siren’s attention lest he become a meal. “You spared me.” The siren’s brow furrowed further. Beckett frowned. “You… you saved my life? I mean, first you threatened it, but… 3 months ago? You- our ship, and the song, and… I woke up on the shore…”

Unfortunately, despite being the most momentous occasion of Beckett’s life, the giant sea serpent didn’t seem to have given the night a second thought. Beck couldn’t stop the sinking feel in his chest, knowing this whole journey was pointless after all.

The siren slowly shook his head. “That sounds unlike me.”

“It’s true!” Beckett insisted, especially because his life seemed to be on the line. “I was baffled too, but for some reason you spared me, and-and I don’t know why either! It’s been driving me insane. Why else would I sail all the way out here trying to find you?”

“You came looking for me?” This, at least, caused the siren to raise an interested eyebrow. “That would be a first.”

Beck nodded quickly. “Yes! I’ve been shouting for you all day. And before that I’ve been training for weeks, saving up for a downpayment to borrow Ben’s boat, which I’ll probably be losing now that I have no idea where that ended up…” Beckett grimaced, once again meeting the siren’s gaze. “Sorry, I’ve been told I have a tendency to sidetrack conversations in uncomfortable situations. Boat’s not important. Please don’t eat me.”

To both of their surprise, the siren let out an amused snort, the hot fishy air rustling Beck’s hair.

“I apologize for that.” The creature had the decency to look sheepish, even as its words curdled Beckett’s blood. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Wait, what?!” Beckett immediately began screeching, attempting to squirm out of the claws still holding him captive.

“Stop!” The siren hissed, his grip tightening painfully around Beck’s ribs. “You will fall with that behavior.”

Beck winced, continuing to struggle against the crushing appendages. “That was kind of the idea. I choose waves over teeth.”

“Waves over…?” The siren shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. I will not eat you.”

Beck found that hard to believe. He squinted, judging the gigantic face before him even as the pressure stayed tight around his chest. “So, you were going to?”

“Yes.”

“But now you’re not.”

“Yes.”

“...why?”

“Because you’re quite interesting, little human.” The siren admitted. “Your question confuses me. Do you want to be eaten?”

Beck chose wisely to avoid that question. “My name’s Beckett.” He said instead. “Beck, for short. Not little human, or anything.”

The siren blinked. It must be strange putting a name to your not-food. “My name is Caspian.”

Caspian. For some reason, Beck hadn’t actually pictured the siren having a name. Or talking. Or generally possessing much humanity at all… the self-reflection made him feel a bit guilty.

“It’s nice to meet you, Caspian.” Beck greeted. He glanced around, realizing the sun had finished setting. “Can we circle back to the boat issue? I mean, I’m glad this hasn’t ended fatally, but it is getting late.”

“Hold on.” Caspian frowned. “You spent all that effort to reach me, only to leave? Little Beck, your story has holes.”

“No, no no no.” Beck quickly shut that down, hastily trying to avoid any possibility of a vengeful siren. “No that’s not it at all. It’s just, your time must be very valuable, and I don’t want to intrude. And also, contrary to popular belief, I'm not a great swimmer. Hence the boat.”

“Hmm.” Caspian seemed to consider this for several moments. The giant seemed to reach a conclusion, but Beck was uncertain what it was as he was raised up above Caspian’s head. “Climb on.”

“Climb on?” Beck repeated, confused.

“And hold on tight.” Caspian advised, opening his palm and tilting it so that Beck slid off with a yelp. “I was under the impression you need air to survive?”

“YES! Yes, that is- yes, I need that.” Beckett confirmed, quickly grabbing onto Caspian’s hair as best he could. Not the easiest task in the world with how everything, including himself, was soaked. Nevertheless, Beck was wise enough to prepare himself for whatever a massive sea serpent might have planned.

Without further warning, Caspian lowered himself into the water, only keeping the top of his head above the waves for Beck’s benefit. Beck hastily lowered himself onto his stomach, not wanting to slide off Caspian’s head as the mer began to swim through the ocean faster than a speedboat.

“Where are you going!” Beck shouted above the wind whipping at his face. He squinted, trying to see where the siren was headed but having no luck. Were they swimming to the boat? Had Beck really gotten so far away from it?

Unfortunately, the siren himself offered no answers. The night sky and fog did not help Beck’s visibility. In these conditions, he was practically blind.

After several minutes of this less-than-ideal water travel, Caspian came to an abrupt stop. Beck frowned, finding himself staring at a rocky cliffside shore. Was Caspian trying to return him to the lighthouse again? But none of this looked familiar…

Caspian raised his head above the waves, sending Beck scrambling to keep his hold. It didn’t matter, as those familiar claws came up and plucked the human from Caspian’s hair.

“Hold your breath.” Caspian advised. This was Beck’s only warning as he was cupped between Caspian’s hands, the mer diving beneath the surface.

Thankfully, Beckett was intelligent enough to take the warning to heart. He held his breath, eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid getting saltwater in them. The pressure became quite intense as Caspian dove several dozen meters down with ease. It made Beck feel like his head would pop at any moment. Was Caspian trying to drown him? But why go through all the effort of telling Beck to hold his breath, if only to drag it out?

Just as Beck could take it no longer and felt on the verge of passing out, Caspian breached the surface. Immediately Beck began to suck in large gulps of air, snorting to get the water that got stuck unpleasantly up his nose.

Despite being above the surface, Beck couldn’t see anything. He tried not to panic, heart racing thanks to all the uncertainties of the situation. “Where- where are we?”

“Home.”

Caspian’s answer only brought on further questions. Home? What kind of home did a gigantic merman have, anyway? Slowly his human eyes began to adjust to the darkness, noticing that bioluminescent moss seemed to give the space just enough light to see the outlines of shapes. It appeared they were in some sort of underground cavern, the water lapping against a craggy water-worn shore.

“Ah, yes. Of Course. Home.” Beck tried not to think about the several deadly reasons a wild animal might welcome him into its living space. But thankfully, Caspian wasn’t just an animal. He could talk, he seemed half human- that had to amount to something, right?

Of course, Caspian had still planned to eat him. So. There’s that.

“You’re still not gonna eat me, right?” Beck asked, not about to leave something so important to chance.

“Right.” Caspian sighed, as if the question were a mild annoyance and not tied to Beckett’s entire livelihood. “But you have disturbed my hunting time. I’m hungry.”

“Not sure that’s entirely my fault…” Beckett murmured to himself.

Caspian lowered his cupped palms to the rocky shore, setting Beck down away from the water’s edge. “Stay here.”

“Wha-? Stay here?” Beck became alarmed, taking a few nervous steps to catch his footing on the slippery slope. “Where are you going?”

“Do not worry.” Caspian assured Beck, easing himself back into the water. “I’ll bring you back something to eat as well.” With that, Caspian dove back into the water, leaving Beck alone in this dark murky cave.

Beckett blinked, shocked to find himself alone in this enclosure. “I don’t think he knows what humans eat.” Beck grimaced, not eager to see just what Caspian would be bringing back for him. Would it be wriggling? Slimy? Would it be human? The thought made Beck want to throw up.

Beckett shivered, feeling chilly now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. He found himself in an unknown underwater cave off the coastline somewhere, still soaked to the bone in his wet rags. The icy temperature in here was freezing, and the water wasn’t any warmer. Was Beck going to die of frostbite here? How long was Caspian planning on keeping him prisoner?

Beckett walked up and down the shore, looking for any driftwood or materials to make a fire. He had no luck, of course, but even if he had Beck didn’t know the first thing about starting a fire. So with nothing to warm himself, what should Beck do? Beckett knew from all the books he’d read on environmental conditions that staying in his wet clothing was one of the worst strategies for survival, but standing around naked in the freezing cave didn’t sound any more appealing. Not to mention, Beck had no way of drying his clothes even if they left his person. He would just have to put the soaking wet rags back on eventually.

Making a foolish decision, Beck kept his clothes on in the hopes that his own body temperature would help dry them eventually. Coming from the man who went out to sea to search for his would-be murderer all day, perhaps Beck shouldn’t be treating himself as a good source for advice.

“What was I thinking?” Beck murmured, pacing back and forth to try and keep the blood flowing to his extremities. His fingertips were growing numb, and Beck shoved them in his armpits to try and keep them warm.

Should he try and escape? Beckett guessed there must be some underwater entrance to this cavern, but there was no way of knowing how deep he would have to dive to reach it, how long the tunnel itself was, nor how high he’d have to swim to reach the surface on the other side. Beckett wasn’t known to be a particularly decent swimmer. Even just the idea of getting in the water right now made Beck shudder, not eager to get soaking wet once more.

Beckett let out a yawn, the excitement of the day catching up to him. He was cold, and tired. Nothing sounded better than stripping off these clothes and lying down in a warm, dry bed back at Seymour’s.

Oh gosh, Seymour. What was the old man gonna think when Beck didn’t return home like he claimed? He knew Seymour had little faith in Beck’s sailing abilities, but Beckett had foolishly promised to be careful. Would Seymour mourn him? Worse yet, would Seymour try to send out a rescue? What if Caspian found him and wasn’t so merciful?

Beckett was dead on his feet by the time the water began to shift. Beck slapped himself out of his stupor, standing to attention in his semi-dry clothes as the giant merman emerged.

Caspian pulled himself partially up onto the shore, holding out one hand to Beck. As expected, none of this looked edible in its current form. There was a live octopus, still wriggling around, a half dozen oysters, a few slimy eels, and a few other squirming entities Beckett wasn’t certain how to classify.

“Oh, thanks.” Beck tried to keep the disgust off his facial features. Even with not eating all day, Beck didn’t have much of an appetite. But would Caspian be mad if Beck didn’t eat it? It’s not like Beckett asked for it in the first place...

“I was uncertain what you would like.” Caspian admitted, a soft frown gracing his features as he nudged the human with his fingertips, encouraging Beck to eat. “Will this be good for you? Do not be shy, I ate my fill already.”

Beck cleared his throat. “Well, uh, some of this is what humans can eat, but we don’t eat it… raw. Or alive, usually.”

“Hmm.” Caspian considered this for a moment, taking one of the eels between his claws. Caspian raised the creature to his lips. In one swift motion, Caspian used his fangs to tear off the eel’s head, sending a small spurt of blood spattering down.

Beck cried out, quickly covering his head with his arms to try and avoid getting caught in the rain. “COOKED! IT NEEDS TO BE COOKED!” Beck hastily corrected, turning a bit green as Caspian tried to once again offer him the bloody corpse. “It needs to be prepared right, too, I don’t think I’m supposed to eat a lot of stuff found in live fish, they usually gut ‘em and stuff, and I’ve never been one for sushi in the first place.”

Caspian licked his lips, clearing away the blood stains as he tilted his head like a pup. “What do you mean, ‘cooked’?”

Beck slowly uncovered his head, thankful Caspian seemed to have backed off for a moment. “Right, cooked.” Beck nodded to himself. “Guess you wouldn’t know what that is, living in the ocean and all. Um, do you know what fire is?” It was Caspian’s turn to nod. “Wait, you do? How?”

“Fire chokes out life.” Caspian explained. “It creates the smoke and the ash that destroys the shores.”

“Well… yeah, I guess it does do that, sometimes.” Beckett admitted. “But we use it in smaller, healthy doses. You use it to cook your food, usually heating it up and changing it to be healthy.”

Caspian seemed more confused the further this conversation went on.

“Unfortunately, there’s no fuel here anyways.” Beck gestured to their surroundings. “And I don’t know how to make a fire anyways, so-”

“No fire.” Caspian said sternly. He sounded more like a stern parent, banning experimentation with firecrackers in the house.

“No fire.” Beck confirmed. He glanced at the ceiling. “Probably wouldn’t have been the best idea anyways, all enclosed like this. But anyways, no. I can’t accept your fish. Thank you, it was very kind of you, I’ll be forever grateful, but if I eat that I will be sick.”

“...hmm.” Caspian looked- disappointed? Frustrated? It was hard to tell the mer’s emotions, but Caspian at the very least seemed to understand Beck’s meaning, as he pulled his handful of fish back to himself. With a thoughtful expression, giving Beck one last option to protest, Caspian tilted the whole mixture into his mouth, chewing it into a paste and swallowing with ease.

Gross. Beck kept this thought to himself, grateful he was not on the other side of Caspian’s abs himself as the pleased merman gave his stomach a few pats.

“Then what will you eat?” Caspain asked, laying down to be more at eye level with the little man.

“Well, uh, I suppose I can always eat after I get home.” Beckett chose his words carefully, still uncertain what Caspian’s intentions were. “My friend would usually make meals with me. Stew, most of the time.”

Caspian’s eyebrows furrowed. “I can make stew with you.”

“No, you can’t.” Beck corrected. Gently. “No fire, remember? Fire’s needed for stew, too. And we don’t have any of the other ingredients. Vegetables, seasonings, broth, cooked meat… stuff like that. And any we got in here would be soaked with sea water, and that’s not great for humans either.”

The giant siren seemed displeased with this answer, obviously intent on keeping the human alive. This, at least, was one positive note in a storm of negativity for the evening.

With a displeased hum, Caspian reached out his hand towards Beckett. Instinctively Beck flinched away, worried the siren had gotten bored and wanted to do away with him, but all that happened was a giant digit began carefully stroking the top of Beck’s head and down the length of his back.

“Uh...what are you doing?” Beck asked, still stiff as a board.

Caspian didn’t seem inclined to answer. Instead he tilted his head, curious blue eyes intently studying Beckett. “Can you sing?”

Beckett blinked. “Can I what?”

“Can you sing?” Caspian repeated, and after Beck gave a nod: “sing for me.”

“Oh, well, I can sing, but not very well, mind you.” Beck admitted, looking a bit sheepish. The stage had always been his sister’s forte. “Certainly not to your caliber. I don’t think you want to hear me sing at all, actually.”

“Yes I do.” Caspian insisted gently. “Sing.”

Beck let out a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for such a task. What song does one even use to serenade a siren? After careful consideration, Beckett selected an old nursery rhyme from his childhood, both for its brief length and easy melody.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star-” Beckett began, his voice shaking. He cleared his throat, trying to project a bit more even as Caspian leaned in to hear. “How I wonder what you are. Like a diamond in the sky, up above the world so high…”

Beckett had shut his eyes, trying to forget about any pressures to perform. A nice benefit to this impromptu concert is that Caspian had paused his petting to allow Beck to focus. “Twinkle twinkle, little star… how… er, ...up… ah…y’know what? I’ve forgotten the last line, actually.”

Beck grimaced, opening his eyes. Caspian was as difficult to read as ever, the siren’s face passive as Beckett awaited any sort of review.

“That was it?” Caspian clarified.

“Yeah, not a very long song.” Beckett agreed. “Meant for children, y’know? Just to… well I don’t know the point of it, actually, I guess it’s just something to sing.”

“Ah.” Caspian drummed his fingers along the rocks. “It was…”

Beckett waited not so patiently. “Well?” He spoke up. “I told you I’m a lousy singer.”

Considering the siren made no effort to disagree, Caspian held the same opinion, yet he wore a pained expression. Perhaps Caspian had held out hope for Beck after all? But then again, even if he were a renowned opera singer, how could a human voice ever possibly appeal to a siren?

“I thought everyone could sing.” Caspian admitted quietly.

For some reason, this bashful admission is what finally set Beck roaring with laughter. Beck clutched at his sides, doubled over with mirth as a concerned siren watched. Caspian let out a noise of concern, reaching out his hand to prod Beck in the side.

“No- I’m good!” Beck hastily assured him, pushing away the finger as if he had any chance of telling the siren what to do. “It’s just- ah, fuck. What a day, you know?” And with that, tears began to pour down Beckett’s cheeks, the poor exhausted boy helpless to stop them as he alternated between laughing and sobbing.

Now Caspian let out a whine, the trill noise echoing across the cavern walls as Caspian scooped the human up into his hands. Beck gasped, momentarily without air as he was forced against Caspian’s chest. “Shh, shhh.” Caspian hushed him, patting his back like he was a child.

Well, what did it matter? Beck felt like a child. He was tired, and hungry, and cold, and he just wanted to go home. Unable to work on any of those things, Beckett tried instead to take the comfort that was given to him, so overwhelmed by the day that this might as well happen.

Beck hiccupped, his tears still coming but too exhausted to keep wailing. Beckett leaned into Caspian’s chest, the smooth seal texture feeling surprisingly warm and dry for a creature that spent most of its life in the ocean. If he focused, Beck could hear a rhythmic thumping. It was Caspian’s heart, just on the other side of this ribcage.

“I wanna go home.” Beck murmured, more to himself than the siren who wouldn’t listen. “I just wanna go home.”

A rumbling sensation filled Beck’s ears, which he slowly recognized as Caspian’s singing. Beck closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to the call.

…

“...Beck?”

---

“-OI! Wake UP!”

Beck coughed, startled awake as he found himself once again doused in sea water. He blinked, disoriented to feel the surface beneath him was rocking like a boat. Before Beck could ponder that out, a bright light shined directly in his eyes, making him squint.

“Blimey, you look half dead.” Seymour whistled, taking stock of Beck’s appearance.

“I...what?” Beck frowned, looking around. They were on a boat. What happened? Last thing he remembered, Caspian had been coddling him like a wounded babe. “Where’s Caspian?”

“Who?” Seymour didn’t have a clue.

“Caspian! I- the giant siren!” Beck looked around, trying to spot anything in the darkness of night.

“Boy, I think you swallowed too much seawater.” Seymour shook his head, easing Beck back down. “Take it easy, you’re lucky to be alive.” Seymour pulled out an emergency orange blanket, wrapping it firmly around Beck’s shoulders. It was only then that Beck came to the startling conclusion he was naked, stripped of his wet clothes entirely. At least he could see them lying on the deck as well.

“The voice.” Beck insisted, staying down only because his head felt dizzy. “You must have heard him singing? He was singing. What’d I miss this time?”

Seymour had no answers, as far as giant sirens went. Instead, he explained his side of things. “When you didn’t come back yesterday, I came out to look for ya.” Seymour explained. “You must have a guardian angel after all. Caught you in my sights only by change with the spotlight, adrift in the waves. No idea how the hell you’ve got a speck of life in you, jumping in without a liferaft or lifejacket or nothin’. Holy hell son, ya got a death wish, there’s easier ways of going out.”

“I- what?” Beck frowned. “No, that… that’s not what happened.”

“Hypothermia can cause hallucinations.” Seymour swore under his breath. “Shit, you’re in a worse state than I thought. Never should have let you come out here alone in the first place, nevermind with Ben’s boat. He’s gonna kill ya, y’know, if you do manage to survive the night.”

“Didn’t mean to lose the boat.” Beckett rubbed at his eyes. “Got left behind on the way to the caverns.”

“To the caverns, he says.” Seymour rolled his eyes, handing Beck a warm thermos. “Drink. Sit. And don’t fall asleep.” With these last instructions, Seymour moved over to the captain’s chair, starting the motor and steering the boat back towards shore.

Beck stared at the waves passing by, sipping gently at the contents of the thermos. Tasted like hot lemon tea. Beck would have preferred hot chocolate, if shipwreck survivors were allowed to have preferences.

Was it a shipwreck? Did he jump in? No… no it was Caspian, wasn’t it? Dumb seal’s fault for it all. That, Beck was certain. Too bad he couldn’t charge the siren for Ben’s boat.

Before, Beck had barely escaped with his life, lost and confused about his potential giant savior. Now, he knew so much more than he had before. Caspian was real. Caspian’s name was Caspian. Caspian had intended to eat him, didn’t, and then let him go. Caspian had forgotten him.

Would Caspian forget him again? Why did that notion make Beck feel so uneasy?

It wasn’t like Beck owed Caspian anything, truly. The guy had saved his life twice now, but only after endangering it in the first place. But why did Caspian let him go this time? It seemed as if Caspian was intent on keeping him around like some sort of amusing lil’ pet. What had changed?

Beck’s mind was too tired to process through such things. He sipped more of the tea, growing drowsy.

“No sleeping!” Seymour yelled.

“Yes sir!” Beck jolted upright, regretting it when his head pounded. The sound of the waves had changed. Beck could hear them crashing against the shore, indicating they were almost to the dock.

Seymour expertly steered the ship into the harbor, a feat which took a good deal of skill in the middle of the night. Once securely fastened, Seymour offered Beck a hand, hauling the boy to his feet and keeping Beck steady all the way up to the lighthouse.

“Alright, in you get.” Seymour instructed, easing Beck into bed. He piled more blankets onto Beckett, disappearing briefly to grab a warm compress which he placed on Beckett’s forehead.

“I really did see him.” Beckett murmured, closing his eyes as the warmth lulled him into a deep slumber.

Seymour let out a low sigh. “I’m sure you did.” Seymour murmured, patting Beck’s arm.

#g/t #giant/tiny #giant mermaid #giant mers #giant siren #OCs #Caspian #Beckett #giant!siren!caspian #human!beckett